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a WILL JTJRN jpmmjvtev run BlOOHl'® 1 0 TERMS OF SUBSCRIPTION. nnllttr* Per otmum in advanee 2% Sol""a,ld Flftu Cf 'lt* jgW-g§ws Slnntiuj, IN ALL ITS VARIOUS BRANCHES, ibucl) as BOOKS, PAMPHLETS, THICI'LARS, HASH-BILLS, CAUDA, RESPECTFULLY practice in the several courts of the Ter ritory, rnd particularly in the counties of Johnson. Cedar, Linn and Washington. QC^Col lections in any part of the Territory punctually at tended to. 16-ay Feb 12, 1841 LAW PARTNERSHIP. A S I N S & I A N HAVE associated themselves in the practice of Law, and will practice in conjunction, in the •ouuties ot Muscatine, Cedar, Linn, Washington and Louisa. Business entrusted with either will receive tile prompt attention of both. 8. t. HASTINGS, J. SCOTT HICHMA*, Bloomingtcn, z Cedar county, ADAM OGirrfV?, Fort/carding and Commission Jlcr chant, BLio/iiitiir/o'i, Iowa. W. F. I)EVEBl.K, Forwarding and Commission .Merchant, BLODMIXKTOX, I. T. tj* Having been appointed Public Auctioneer for Muscatine county, he is at all times leady to attend to sales in that way. O V E S U E O N A N Y S I I A N WVOMING,!. T. DOCTOR M'KEE, Ornrs ON HKSM S TIU.KT, HKTWKEN HONT AND S ECO.MI. A. jr. I I E, Tailor. (J^SHOP ON SECOND STUEET v a w a n HEBALD 19 PUBLISHED WEEKLY, Y O A S U E S in 8,X montk Four 0otl«r8 at the end of the year. -TERMS OF ADVERTISING. nne square of 1* lines,first insertion, One Dollar and for each utibaequent insertion Fit- llib'ra! discounts allowed to those who adver wy ^hc yc3r» ir?L?ttcr4 addressed to the Editors, in order to re attention, MUST BE POST-PAID. JOB PRINTING. Thk office of the Herald being well supplied with „eat variety of Job Type, the Proprietor is pie pared to execute in the neatest style, LABELS, BILLS OF JLMMSG, BALL TICKETS, JCSTICES' BLANKS, BLANK DEKIS, A. G. BEESON, Tailor, informs the citizens of Bloomington and vicinity, that he continues to carry on the Tailoring Business in all its branches, with neatness and despatch. 0Cj"All kinds of coun try produce taken in exchange for work. lie is a*cnt for and in regular receipt of T. Oliver's Fash ion*. 21-tf March 10, 1841. JXO. G. DESHTER, ATTORNEY & COUNSELLOR AT LAW, Bloomlngfon, Iowa, Territory. 22 O N A A V I N Commfsst'oit at* jhrjDirftf.u ittcrcfrant, BLOOMINGTON, IOWA. 19 6. S. HAMPTOV. W. N. HARRISON. HAMPTON & HARRISON, A O N E Y S A A W IOWA CITT, I. T. HAVELaw, associated themselves in the practice of the under the above style they will at tend to the business of their profession in the second juds,-ial district, anil to criininai cases in any county in the Territory. Business committed to their care, or either of thein, will receive the joint attention of both. February 25, 1841.-19-ly W I I A E A A N ATTORNEY & COUNSELLOR AT LAW, Iowa City, Iowa Territory, OPPOSIKH RUN 0,1 POST OFFICE. WM. G. WOODWARD, A O N E Y A A W BLOOMINGTON, IOWA. I A A Y A TORNEY AT LA W*, BLOOMINOTON, IOWA TEH. Ct-O'Kcc Second Street, third door lelow the Post Olliiv. lvecovdtr's Office in the same building T. G, PARVIN, A O N E Y A A W BLOOMINGTON, I. T. GEORGE GREEXE, Attorney and Counsellor at IAMB, MARION, LINN CO., I. T. J. W. PARKER, A O N E Y A A W DAVENPORT, I. T. WILLIAM R. RANKIN, ArTOKNEY AND COUNSELLOR AT LAW TIPTON, CEDAR CO., I T. Jj" Practice in the several courts of the Territory. WM. B. TYSON, O W A K I N & O I S S I O N EBIBBKMBIAiJlf's WHEELING, VA. SwjseTsigx and ornamental E. HARURAVES will attend to the above Uslliess,in I-IT" all its various branches withneat- acfUUcy an^daspatch. attentlon Also, Glazing anu Gild- ro'nnt business entrusted to him will receive ar)d aer be executed in a workmalnikc Kington, ML 1% Perchance she met her Joved of all, You'd think that nothing met her glance Between her and the wall, Her eve around is thrown so f'ee, Her laugh rings out so merrily How soon a slighted woman IcarM To hide that pang, however deip* Though in her tortured heart it burns, Her bosom-thoughtsseem all asleep You'd think that peace was resting there, With her light shawl upon her breast, That exercise "and healthy air, And day-dreams that be wondrous ftif, With hopes that "sweetest fruitage bear Had caused the slight unrest Know you that young heart bleeds— That in this laughing mood. The Pelican of Passion feed* Hei ever hungry brood— The two extremes approach wctmow And therefore often .aughs our woe Hers tells, that laugh which stung so loud, Of withered hopes within theii shroud. tTJVEQUJiLIj1i YOKED* BV REV. J. KFCNNADAV. VYIiy don't you hurry, woman Sure it 19 no wonder that the child sleeps in your arms. And yourself will be asleep next, if you walk at this creeping rate." A bend in the road, ai.d the rapid walk of my horse, soon led me so far in advance, that I ceased farther to hear a dialogue, which, as far as it was heard, intimated the unfeeling character of the one, and satisfied ine that the other tiad ample opportunity to manifest her piety in the perfect working of her patience. In the progress of another mile of ihe as cending road. 1 came to a pass, where, in a close of about half an acre of level land, there stood a little hut, immediately on the side of tlie road. The building was formed of large unhewn logs, interlaid with clay. The door, swinging upon hinges made of the soles of worn-out shoes, being partially open, disclosed the scanty and mutilated furniture within.— There was only one window, consisting of a slender sash, designed for four small panes of glass but in which only two remained. Notwithstanding the poverty indicated in the appearance of every thing presented to my view, there was a general nearness with which I was forcibly struck. A thrifty honey-suckle climbed up the little hut, and the garden was much enlivened by a variety of lovely flowers. I know not how correct the criterion may be found by other, but my observations have long since confirmed me in the accuracy that, how ever humble or elegant a country dwelling house may be, wherever there is a choice col lection of flowers in the garden, there is usual ly taste and clenline&s within the dwelling.— The approach of a little boy and girl to the door of this humble hut, with coarse but well mended apparel, and the sedate and polite manner in which they expressed their obeis ance -as I passed, satisfied me that the mistress of this cot possessed feelings worthy of a bet ter home. The manners of the children were the more perceptible, as they could not have been acquired at school, in as much as in tnis sectiuu of the mountain schools are seldom heard of. I know of but one school-house within a distance of three miles from these children, and that was open only during three months in the year, and when those wno at tended must wade through highland snows. Another mile brought me to my place of destination, the glass-works, consisting of a low, spacious sombre frame building, standing in a field, every where studded wit!i the most formidable 6tumps of the hemlock, a tree the most common in these mountains, and the most majestic in its growth. With a trunk measuring from five to eight feet in diameter, and rising more lhan a hundred feet high, this tree seems the fitting plumage of the mountain it adorns. Scattered at various distances frum the glass factory were a few buildings, which, from their dilapidated appearance, evidenced that their inmaies would never suffer persecu tion for belonging to a suspected aristocracy. Perhaps, howevei, 1 oughi to except one build ing which stood in palace-like contrast with the rest, and adjoined the factory store."— TMOMA He patient, William. You know that the mountain is steep ihe child is heavy and it s but little strength I have any way." This was part of a dialogue 1 chanced to hear, while passing the parties, who were cl.mbing op one of the most rugged roads in the Catskill mountains a road so steep in deed, tint my horse puffed at every step, and my saddle creaked beneath me as I grasped the pummel. The man was some twelve or fifteen feet in advance of the woman, and at the so.ind of my horse's feet, paused till I passed, when he turned the hasty glance of his eye from me, in a hasty frown upon her whom he upbraided. A light brealh of wind touching the hood, to gether with the effort of the woman to step aside from the road till passed, laid open the face of the sleeping child, and gave evidence, in the fullness of its face, of the weight of its frame, and of health, derived almost at the expense of the one upon whose bosom it re posed. Possessing an enormous and hardy framp, the man trude the mountain path almost with the step of an elephant, and appeared to re quire nothing but a palanquin upon his huge shoulders to enable him to carry both the moth er and the babe. The mother was of small and delegate form. Her face was round and very fair, over which was cast the mildness of a bright but modest eye. Although her agr was about thirty, she appeared at least fifteen years younger lhan her husband. Phis was the ma'isioii of my friend, Dr. •, physician, agent of the glass-work*, justice ot li.e peace, keeper of the store, and frequently member of the legislature. Here, with as much authority, a From Graham's Magazine. A SLIGHTED WOMAI. And Helen, not neglectful she Of her proud sex's dignity, If, in the mazes of the dance, as is some- times possessed by a continental prince, the Doctor resided, enjoying the eharatef %T- people's-man." Strange as it might appear, yet it is certain that the glass-blowem and wood-choppers seldom removed from under his "agency," without having a balance against thein on the Doctor's boi k, ether for rent, medical attendance, justice, groteries or gin. He, it is true, got rich, yet no »ne ven tured to question his integrity, or to doubt his protection of the poor. It was not until the following day that 1 was able to gratify my curiosity by going into the factory." The blower, ht the furnace nearest to which 1 stood, soon gave his instrument to another, and kindly tendered his services to accompany me through the works, and give me the information respecting the process of glass-blowing, of which I was inquest. We had passed only one or two men before I per ceived, at one of the furnaces, ihe man whom 1 passed in ascending the mountain. Who is that man said I to my guide. "That is Bill Hunter," said he "and agre»t bear lie is." "Then you know him weWI** 1' faith I do," said the man, whose broad dialect had shown befoie this that lie was an Englishman. "I have known him many a year. A fine wom in is she, his wife, but a dog's life it is, she has with him." He drinks, 1 suspect." Yes, he does hut he's a bad man when sober and it was a dark day for her when she left her father's bouse for such a dolt as Huu ler." "Then you know something of their histo ry, I presume. Mr. Shaw for admitting him under his roof.— About three years since, he came to this place poor enough. For Margaret's sake, poor girl, whom I knew when the whole town was proud of her, I gave hiii an ii sight into this busi ness. He scratches a scanty living, having five children, and lives in the hut that you passed down the mountain a piece. He is hut a brute her, who sliaies a hard life on it, poor thing and must ever repent leaving a father's house for one so unworthy of her." With this simple narrative I was much in terested, and not the less so because it was to me an additional evidence of what I had often thought to be the ease, that in the humbler walks of life, and in some of the scenes of poverty and suffering, there are those often who spend years of pain in weeping over the inadvertence of the hour ill which their affec tions were misplaced. E U 1 V U S A "The painful vigil may I never know, That anxious watchcs o'er a wandering heart." It was past midnight, and she sat leaning her pale cheek on her hand, counting the dull ticking of the French clock that stood on the marhle chimney-piece, and ev«r and anon lift ing her weary eye to its dial to mark the lapse of another hour. It was past midnight, and yet he returned not! She arose, and tak ng up the lamp, whose pale rays alone illumina ted the solitary chamber, proceeded with noise less slep to a small inner apartment. The cur tains of his little bed we e drawn aside, and the young mother gazed on her sleeping child What a vivid contrast did that glowing cheek and smiling brow present, as be lay in rosy slumber, to the faded, yet beautiful face that hung over him in tear* Will he resemble his father? was the thought that passed foi a moment through her devoted heart, and a sigh was the only answer 'Tis his well known knock—and the steps of the drowsy porter echoed through the lofty hall, as with a murmur on his lip, he drew the massy bolts and admitted his thoughtless mas ter. Four o'clock, Willis, is it not?" and he sprung up the staircase—another moment he is in her chamber—in her arms Julia, 1 have been a wandering husband." But you are come now, Charles, and all is well." And all was well, for, from that hour, Charles Dar.vers became an altered man. Had his wife met him with frowns and sullen tears, he had become a hardened libertine but her affectionate caresses, the BLOOMINGTON, I. FRIDAY, APRIL 23, 1841. Did y-u know her lather? What, John Miaw, of Spittlefields In deed 1 knew him well, and it's all good E know of him. Sure, a better man there never lived." My curiosity is quite awake my friend," said I, "and you will gratify me by giving me a little of their history." but it is a sorry history for her, poor woman," sain he. Do you see, then, her father was a wealthy uianuf.iturer, and much thought on. When Margaret was about four teen years of age, he took this same Hunter into his factory and store to e a kind of por ter and runner. For the purpose of aiding family errtnds, he hoarded in Mr. .Shaw's house. At the end of a year, the father dis covered that Margaret treated Hunter's ad dresses with favor, and in chagrin and disgust dismised him from his employ not because he was poor, but because he was so nuld. We wIto knew him, thought that it was strange that the poor wench could think any thing of such surly sellish fellow. But then he was good-looking, and as slender as ye. It was not long belure the whole town was in a stir, when it was said that Shaw's Margaret had gone to the States with Hunter. Sure enough, it was true for it was found out that under pretended names, they had sailed from Liver pool for Philadelphia. The vessel, however, went into W ilmington, in the State of Dela ware, where they were married and went into the country, and found employment in a facto ry. He was ever a low fellow, and a fool was joy Thus the first thiee years of their wedded life had passed—to him MI fevered and restless pleasure, to her in blighted hope, or unmur muring regret. But this night crowned the patient forbearance of Julia with its just reward, and gave ihe death blow to folly in the bosom of Danvers. Returning with di gust from the losses of the hazard table, her meekness and long suffering touched him 10 the soul the film fell from his eyes, and vice, in her own hideous deformity, stood unmasked before him. Ten years have passed since tha* solitary midnight, when the young matron bent in tears over her sleeping boy. Behold her now still in the pride of womanhood, surrounded by their cherub faces, who are listening ere they go to rest to her sweet voice, as it pours forth to the accompaniment of her harp and evening song of joy esting group. Youthful matrons! ye who watch over a a wandering, perhaps an erring heart—w hen a reproach trembles on your lips towards a tru ant husband, imitate Julia Danvers, and re member, though hymen has chains, like the sword of Harmodius, they may be covered wiih flowers that unkindness and irritability do but harden, if not wholly estrange the heart —while on the contrary patience and gentle ness of Manner (as water dropping on the flinty rock will in time wear it into softness) seldom fail to reclaim to happiness and virtue the Truant Husband. lhan MRS, TIC.HIK. that danced in her sut.ken eye, the hectic Hash that lit up her pallid cheek at bis approach, were argnu enis he could not withstand. Married in early life, while he felt all the ardor, but not the esteem of love possessed of a splendid fortune, and having hitherto had the enure control of his own pleasures, Danvers fell into that common error of newly married men—the dread of be ing controlled. In vain did his parents, who. beheld with sorrow the reproaches and misery he was heaping up for himself in after life, remonstrate Charles Danvers turned a deaf ear to advice, and pursued, with companions every way unworthy of his society, the path of folly if not of absolute guilt. The tavern, the club-room, the race-course, too often left his wife a solitary mourner, or a midnight watcher. U E S A E E I I A S E Y Y U O V U S S E U O W I S U E S E I O S and melody while a manly form is betiding over the music page to hide the tear of happiness and triumph that springs from a swell ng bosom, as he contemplates the inter From the Washington Globe. The following correspondence between the late President and Governor Reynolds,has been politely placed in our hands by Governor Mil ler of Missouri, with pcrmis»ion to publish it. Th« address of the Legislature, and proceed ings of the members in convention, by which they presented the name of Mr. Van Buren as candidate for re-election, have alieady ap peared in the Globe. E XECI RIVK DKEARTMKNT, City of Jefferson, (Mo.) Feb. 18,1811. SIR :—In obedience lo a resolution ot the General Assembly of the State of Missouri, I have the honor to transmit to you the enclosed address. On the part of the State of Missouri—a State which has been free from the delusions that have brought your opponent into power, a,id which, in the hour of peril, has nobly sustained her Democratic faith —I feel honored in being selected to offer you this tribute of unabated confidence in the wisdom, virtue, and patriot ism that have marked your administration. W ith sentiments of high regard, 1 have the honor to be, etc. TH. REYNOLDS* Governor of Mls.sMli* To his Excellency M. VAN BUREN, Prcbideut of the United States. WASHINGTON, March 6, LMI. To his Excellency »v. REYNOLDS. SIR:—Your friendly letter, accompanied by an address from the General Assembly of the State of Missouri, came to my hands yester day. I shall not attempt to disguise the great sa tisfaction I have derived from this honorable testimonial of respect and regard, rendered doubly valuable from the source whence it pro ceeded. Coming, as it obviously does, from the hearts of its authors, you may be assured it appeals directly to my own. it is given at a period when its motives cannot be misinter preted, and conveys the feelings of a majority of the Representatives of a Male second lo none of this union in the integrity of iis politi cal principles, its present prosperity, and future prospects. No w here has a strict and invariable adhe rence to the great principles of government been attended with more beneficial consequen ces in the Slate of Mis -ouri. Founding their political failh on the simple, self-denyi.ig doctrines of the great apostle of liberty, and firmly res'sting all the delusive seductions of systems which have only resulted iu a sudden evanescent prosperity, as suddenly followed by disasters and ruin, the inhabitants of Missouri have steadily pursued their course through all ihe vicissitudes of conflicting parties and anta gonist principles, without despondency and \iihoul compromise, thus securing the uniform asceud^icy of Democratic men, as well as the adoption of Democratic measures in her coun cils. from the period of her admission into the Union until the present lime. The beautiful effects of a course so w'iserand so consistent are happily exemplified in tl e condition of the State. Free Iroin the embar rasments of a public debt, and a consequent subjection to banking institutions and foreign capitalists, her unbounded resources remain unimpaired, and her means are fully adequate lo all her wauls, without the infliction of new burdens on her citizens, ur the anticipation of future resources to meet the present exigencies. With a mixed currency, coinposcd of a well balanced and harmonious co-operation of the standard of value and its paper representative, the latter always redeemable on demand, (villi light taxes, and no necessity for iucreasirg them, and with a population extensively agri cultural and mechanical—wise enough to know that industry, frugality, and temperance, are ihe only true sources of public and private pros perity, the only safeguards of Republican prin ciples—the Stale of Missouri presents at this moment a most strikii example of the wisdom and efficacy of the Democratic policy when stead'ly maintained, without the occasional in terference of a contracting cuunler influence, interrupting its salutary course, snd sowing the seeds of difficulties which occupy years to over come. Should the friends of Democratic prin ciples wuh lo point out lo the world au exam ple of the results of their steady and practical application to the Government of mankind, they may turn to Missouri, with gratification and triumph. The legislative address which yon have con veyed to me in such obliging terms, and most especially the resolutions subsequently adopt ed by the members in Convention, speak of me, in connection with the next President.al election, in a way whicb makes a more parti HERALD* cular notice of the subjects on my part, conso nant with that unreserved communication of my opinions and wishes in relation to public -affairs which I have always maintained with my poli'ical friends. iving for years been nnceasingly assailed with the imputation of intriguing for the Pre sidency, 1 felt it as due to myself, when first nominated, as well as those by whom that nomination wns made, to put these charges to test, by declaring, in the face of my fellow ci tizens, that I had neither solicited the aid nor sought the support of any man, for that high and responsible station unless my frank re plies to the interrogatories of my countrymen in relation to public measures and political principles, together with my constant and sin cere efforts to make myself worthy of their re gard and confidence, were liable to that con struction. For the truth of that declaration, 1 appealed to the hundreds of honorable men who composed the then recent Convention—to the numerous editors and politicians through out the Union who had distinguished me by their preference—and to my personal corres pondet ts and friends, not excepting the very coiirdderahle number of persons once my inti mate associates who, in the fluctuations of po litics had been converted into opponents. I affirmed that in none of these classes, or in any other, was there a man who could truly say that 1 bad solicited bis political support, or with whom I had entered or sought to enter into any arrangement to bring about the nomi nation I had then received, or to secure my ele vation to the office of Chief Magistrate of the Union. I took occasion to add, that I trusted I should be excused by the liberal minded cf all parties for thus speaking of my own course of conduct in reference to a point on which I had been «o frequently assailed, and had hith erto continued silent—most especially as 1 alone could answer for it in relation to all my countrymen, though thousands might be ready to answer for themselves. The result of this appeal was such as might confidently be expected from the truih in which it was founded and n a voice was heard in contravention of the position I had assumed. It did not however relieve me from the assaults of my opponents: and in this I was not disap pointed for I bad sufficient experience in such matters to satisfy me that, as long as 1 contin ued to meril ihe confidence of my friends, 1 should receive the condemnation of my foes, and that few political men are praiced by the latter until they are about abandoning the for mer. It however compelled ibem to change their position and adopt new weapons of war fare. The feelings and principles by which my conduct was regulated, will also guide it in the future and my friends may rest assured that I will never place it out of my power to repeat, with perfect truth, the declaration 1 at that time felt myself called on to make. I did not on that occasion, nor do 1 DOW, pro fess to be indifferent to a station to which every citizen of the United Slates may aspire, by just and honorable means, without interfering in the least with the rights of others and that because I did not then nor do I now, cherish such a feeling. To make myself worthy of ihe office of Chief Magistrate of the most power ful confederation of states that ever existed, and occupy the highest station among men, if it could be gained without the sacrifice of my principles or my integrity, was, on the contra ry, the object of my most earnest desire, as it may properly be that of every worthy member of this great community, where no man is pre cluded from obtaining the highest honors in the gift of his fellow citizens. The present occasion seems to me one which not only justifies but renders it incumbent oil ine to express myself with that perfect frank ness, by which communication!! of this kind between friends and brethren of the same prin ciples, should in mj opinion, always be char acterized. I will, therefore, with your per mission, prcceed to state my sentiments on this last head a little more at large. That 1 am deeply and gratefully impressed with the zeal and consistency of that regard and confidence, so fully manifested by the General Assembly of ihe Slate of Missouri, as well as by many others of the Union, under circumstances apparently so discouraging, you cannot doubt for a moment, it is, on the con trary, in the unfeigned respect I cherish for those who have offered me these testimonials of continued attachment, that I find the stron gest motives to meet them at the threshhoid, by a free and frank expression of my views nnd feelings on the subject, indicated in these declarations of my friends. I beg yon, therefore, to believe me when I inform you that the personal interest which I feel iu the selection of a candidate for the next presidency, is restricted to a consideration of the ultimate influence it may have on the final success of those great principles on which 1 have earnestly labored to administer this go vernment—which 1 have ever believed, and still believe, essential to the freedom and hap piness of our common country, and with which I have always been content to stand or fall. Although I might never feel myself at liber ty to shrink from any and every responsibility which it may please the Democracy of the United States to impose on me, and which is consistent with the respect due to the people on account of the high station 1 have held by their choice, I should, nevertheless, be not merely as well but better, satisfied at seeing those areat objects accomplished under the auspices of some one of the numerous names to be found in the ranks of Democracy, whose talents, character, and services, though they richly merit, have not yet received, the highest re wards of the people. My political friends every where will, I hope and believe, do me the justice to regard this declaration, made in the fullness of a grateful heart, as indicating with absolute sincerity the feelings by which I am actuated. They are madetipou a consideration of the subject, so full and so mature as to exempt the views and opinions they express, as far as belongs to human determination, from all liability to change. No one can expect or should desire to be always in the office under a Government and institutions like ours and I have enjoyed that privilege long enough to satify my utmost am bition. HO. 26. With regard to that vital consideration* which, in the estimation of a well organize# rnind and honest heart, will always bo morir deep and impressive than the mere trappingf of office—I mean the consciousness of recti lud* of purpose and the estimation of friends—$ think I cannot be mistaken in believing that could, nnder no circumstances, hepe to do bet ter. If, therefore, there be any political sup porters who are or who may hereafter be inda ced by any consideration personal to myself, by a respect to my feelings under a supposition that they may have been wounded or embitter red by a defeat incurred in defence of their principles, to bring rne forward again as a can-" didate for re-election, I beg them, in justice to myself, to dismiss all such motives from theif minds. I cherish no such feelings, and require' no new proofs of the confidence and good will of those who have sustained me in success ans rallied around me in defeat. The circumstari^ ces under which the Democracy of my native' country, of my native state and of the sistcp States, have raised me from the first to this last step of advancement, the opportunities they have afforded me to exemplify to th£ world the principles by which I have been go verned, and the idomitable spirit with whidt they have sustained me in the late struggle ti? baffle the exertions and appliances of selfish and political interests combined against me, and agiinst the measures which I have uni formly advocated, and in part succeeded in e#. tablishing, have imposed upon me an obligation?* lasting as life, and leaving on my heart a debt of gratitude I can never discharge. It will be time enough hereafter for the De mocracy to designate its candidate. It is ndl to be disguised thai feelings of personal kin& ness towards myself, and for which I cannot be too grateful, have been among the motive* for thus early designating me for the slatiof^ from which I have just retired. This fedingf constitutes a dangerous ingredient in political operations and ftom no one could an attempt to check it proceed more properly than from my self. Preparations for the next Presidential election are not, on this occasion, and at this crisis, liable to the ordinary objection of pro* judging the conduct of the incumbent for lh& time being, inasmuch as he will, at all events retire at the expiration of the constitutiohaft term. The most appropriate as w?ll as most usefdl exertion which can be made at this time by our friends, is in adopting the best measures and means in their power for the explanation and" diffusion of iheir principles, the detection eft falsehoods, and the dissemination of truth* among the great body of the people, leaving the selection of their candidate to a more suit able period. In the latter, the Democracy never had less to apprehend from dissension among its members, since there has not, ac cording to my best judgment, ever been a mo ment when the noble and patriotic sentiment advanced by your distinguished representative^ Every thing fur the cause—nothing for men** —was so universal among the supporters of our principles. In the efforts to be made by the great Demo^' cracy of the United States for the re-establish ing the ascendency of their principles in the administration of the General Government, I shall be placed in many respects, by the sta I have occupied and the known sentiments of the people in reference to the conduct becoming the position in which I stand, in the situation of an observer oulj. Hut it will not, I assure you, be that of one indifferent to the result, can never, while I live, look on an unconcerned spectator whore the great principles, to the ea* tablishment of which I have devoted the beifc years of my life, and the success of which, I am assured, is esseulial to the welfare of my country, are at issue, and my friends arc strug gling for their preservation with the stern ert* ergies of men conscious of the justice of tliehf cause, and animated' by the full assurance of its ultimate triumph. I cannot close this eommontcation Without expressing my sincere acknowledgments fyf the friendly expressions of regard and conA* dence conveyed in your letter, and assuring you that they added much to the gratification# received from the honorable Mtflimonikt* bf which it was accompanied. Respectfully your friend and-fellow-citizen, M. VAN BUREN. FARMINO.—If one half the zeal, energy, and expense which have been exhibited for elec tioneering purposes, were bestowed upon agri culture—if the people were half as angry with thrir thistles, thorns, and bad fences, as thejjf are with their political opponents, we siiouNI have more productive fields, less complaint of poverty, more ability for charity, and abtin dantly more good feeling. From Maine t®f Georgia, the son ploughs as his father dkf 'bjp fore him, and the great mass of farmers are sjf' stationary in theory as they are in practice#' nine in ten believe a: this moment lhat book farming is the mere useless, visionary dreanV ing of men that know nothing of practical agri culture. The real benefactor of mankind is ho who causes two blades of grass to grow whei$ one grew before his fields are his morn an# evenino theme, and to fertilize and iinprovo his farm is his prime tempcrial object. Alicc'» national aggrandisement, power and' wealth may be traced to agriculture as its ultimate source—commerce and manufactures are only subordinate results of this main spring. We consider agriculture as every way sub sidiary not only to abundance, industry, com fort and health, but to good morals and ulti mately even to religion. We regard the far mer, stripped to his employment and cultiva ting his lands, as belonging to the first order of noblemen we wish him bountiful harvests, and it.voke upon him the blessings of God in all his undertakings may peace be within bis walls—Selected. The Arabs trace their descent from Isbmael, the son of Abraham and Hagar.—These chil dren of the tent have always preserved their ancient name, for the word Arab signifies a robber, and robbers the Arabians alwayo wew, and still remain so. GREAT Loss.—The original commissTon of John Hancock, as first Major General of tlio Continental Army, dated May 29ih, 1776, is advertised in the New York papers as lost u) that city or Brooklyn.