Bloomington herald. [volume], April 23, 1841, Image 1

About Bloomington herald. [volume] (Bloomington, I. T. [Iowa]) 1840-1849

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VOL. I.
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.