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The ALEXANDRIA Q AZETTB, for

the country, Is printed on Tuesday. Thurs-

day, and Saturday. ___

MONDAY, JULY 18, 1842.

THE INFANT’S DREAM.

Oh ! cradle me on thy knee, mamma, And sing me the holy strain

That soothed me last, as you londly prest My glowing cheek to your soft white breast,

For I saw a scene when I slumbered last

That 1 Tain would see again.

And smile as you then did smile, mamma,

A.,d weep as you then did weep; Tnen fix on roe thy glistening eye. And gaze and gaze, till the tear be dry. Then rock me gently, and sing and sigh.

Till you lull me last asleep.

For I dreamed a heavenly dream, mamma.

While slumbering on thy knee, And I lived in a land where forms divine

In kingdoms of glory eternally shine. And the world I’d give if the world were

mine, Again that land to see.

1 fancied we roamed in a wood, mamma,

And we rested as under a bough; Then near me a butterfly flaunted tn pride, And 1 chased it away through the'forest wide, And the night came on and I lost my guu.e,

And I knew not what to do.

My heart grew sick with fear, mamma,

And Jloudly cried lor thee, But a white robed maiden appeared in the air, Aod she flung back her curls ofgolded hair. And she kissed me softly ’ere I was aware.

Saying “Conte pretty babe with me.”

My tears and fears she guiled, mamma,

And she led me far a war; We entered the door of the dark, dark tomb; We passed through a long, long vault of gloom: Then opened our eyes on a land of bloom,

And a sky of endless day.

And heavenly forms were there, mamma.

And lovely cherubs bright; They smiled when they saw me, but I was

amazed, .... ,

And wondering around me I gazed, and gazed; And songs t heard and sunny beams blazed

All glorious in the land of light. But soon came a shining throng, mamma,

Of white winged babes to me; Their eyes looked love, and iheir sweet lips

smiled. ,

And they marvelled to meet with an earth born child.

And they glored that 1 from the earth was ex-

iled, ......

Saying “Here, love, blest sbatt thou be.

Then I mixed with that heavenly throng, mamma,

A cherube and seraphin fair; And saw as l roamed thro1 the regions of peace, The spirits which came the world of distress, And there was the toy no tongue can express,

For they knew no sorrow there.

Do you mind when sister Jane, mamma.

Lay dead a shoit time agone? Ho** you gazed on the sad and lovely wreck, Witn a full flood of woe you could not check, And your heart was so sad you wished it

would break, But it loved and you aye sobbed on.

But old bad you been with me, mamma.

In the realms unknown to care, And seen what 1 saw you had ne'er had cried,

Though they buried pretty Jane in the grave when she died;

For shining with the blest and adorned like a

bride. Sweet sister Jane was there.

Do you mind ol that sickly old man, mamma.

Who came so late to our door, When the night wasdark.and ihe tempest loud

And his heart was weak but his soul was proud, And bis ragged old inar.tle sc»ved for hisshroud,

Ere the midnight watch was o’eif

And think what a weight of woe, mamma,

Made hcav>\each long drawn sigh, As the good man sat in papa's old chair While tire rain dropped from his thin gray hair, And fast as the big tear of speechless care,

Run down from his glazing eye.

And think what a heavenward look, mamma,

Flashed through each trembling eye, As he told how he went to the Baron’s strong

hold , „

Saying, uOh! let me in for the night is so cold. But the rich man cried MC»o sleep in tire wood,

For we shield no beggars here.”

Well! he was in glory too, mamma.

As happy a* the blest can be; He needed no aims in the mansions of i:ght For he sal with the paliiarchs, clothed in

white, And there was not a seraph had a crown

more bright Nor a costlier robe than he.

Now sing, for I fain would sleep mamma.

And dream as l dreamed before, For sound was my slumber and sweet was

my rest, White my spirit in the kingdoms or lne was a

guest, And heart that lias throbbed in the realms

oi the blest Can love this world no more.

Extract of a letier dated Washington, July 14.

“To show the state of feeling now pervad- ing the country, I mention the fact that a

member of Congress received a letter this

morning from a very worthy, substantial per- son in Massachusetts, an Abolitionist, who

says he had made up his mind never to

vote for Mr. Clay, on account of his being from a slave state; but. the times are such

tod the Riateof the country, such, that we

must look lor the pilot who can weather the torin. That pilot is Henry Clay. Another emieman who was once elected by the Le- slature to one of the highest offices in the ate, but refused to accept it, says, .in a let* r to a friend, for Mr. Tylet, he is a

.. inch in our nostrils and we must bury him ” the same letter he speaks of Mr. Clay as

? man to whom the country looks, and must

>k to save her. This is the language which »,mes sphere from the north and the south,

: m the east, and from the west. It is the ce ofan indignant and an outraged people, oare heaping their maledictions upon the

Ddofhtm in an evil hour for himself as '[ as for his country, gave ear to the whis

,-rings of an unholy ambition, and flattered ..nseif that because accident had tihrown m upon the top of Oljmpus, he surely must

* Jove himself, and therefore” “Assumes the God. affects to nod,”

J in doing 60, makes himself ridiculous.

ggK 1_—r — =-—

From the N. ^ • American. 6ANKS OF THE POTOMAC.- j

Yod tfil! recollect, my dear Mf. ftdltor, ih« j

arguments that l used, to induce Vuu t° make

a short tourney toilte South Wifi) me last sum-

mer ; and youf ettswer, -‘1 cart’t leave the pa-

per.'' You well recollect that 1 urged that we

were not boru to work alone} that lile wSj (

shert; that sixteen or sixty, its term is but a

flash } that we were rushing on wuh increas- j ed velocity to that bourne, whose sands are j marked by no returning loot-p»int-that borne

where the sceptre and diadem of the monarc i

lie contemptuously hurled with the goa an

chain of the slave-where, their service ende ;

the broken wain of the yeoman, and the gnm

cannon of the soldier, interlock their shatter-

ed wheels ; the bayonet and pruning hook—

the sword and the ploughshare rest without a

name. You well recollect that 1 reproached you,*he rather, with too great love lor the

green fields and giant elms around your cot-

tage at Elizabethtown, that 1 swore by my

faith!and I believed the doctrine ol Pythago- ras, that 1 should look to see thy immortal

part transfer red on its exit, from its present habitation to one of those huge trees tower-

ing into the blue ether. That there in the sun-

ny mornings of summer* for sonnets which do

enliven thy columns, I should hear the joyous

call ot the robin—the shrill whistle or the scar*

let oriole. For sparkling wit,—the dew or

night glittering on thy leaves in the early sun-

beams \ for wise old saws, and dreamy le-

! gends, venerable moss gathering upon thy trunk and branches, while alike in the evening wind or howling blast, thou shouldest stand

firm against cat uistry or dictation. “Will

go?” “Wilt join me ?”—with soft persuasion murmured I. “The paper—the paper—the pa

per,” quoth thou. “Presto,” quoth I—and

without more ado started in my usual heels

over head fashion, alone on my journey. I swept over the broad breast of the Dela-

ware—dashed down the enemy insulted Ches- apeake—bounded through the city of riot and beauty, and come down on my feet at the cot-

tage ot my whole souled friend, Torn B., on

the banks of the Potomac. The afternoon of

my arrival was warm and still, and every

thing in nature, even the birds, seemed wrapt in indolent repose. Slowly sauntering through the long vistas of sycamores and elms, which adorned the grounds in picturesque avenues, the airy East indiad cottage of my friend sud- denly broke upon my sight, peering from a

whole load of flowering vines and sweet bri- ars, tall white lillies, and moss roses from thick beds of myrtle at their feet, climbing in-

to the half open lattices, while two towering pines almost crossed their extended branches above its lowly roof. I stole qu ietly through the open door, examining the choice Italian landscapes hanging upon the wails of the airy grass matted hall,—slid through the drawing room9, stopping for a moment to scan the

crouching Venus and dying Gladiator, on their pedestals, to admire the exquisite Magdalen of Carlo Dolce—the lovely Claude, theCencil, and Flora beneath their silken tassels,—snd coming out upon the verandah overlooking the river, suspended in his grass hammock found master Tom, enjoying his luxurious siesta.— His double barrelled gun and game bag—his liunen shooting jacket, huge sombrero, and hunting boots, were tumbled promiscuously in one cornerof the piazza,—while threecan-

! vass backs, turning up their white breasts, a

I pat ridge, and some dozen yellow-leg snipe with the powder flask and shot belt, were

thrown across the back of the rustic settee,

trophies of his morning’s sport, beneath which with their noses extended between their legs

; in like luxurious repose, lay the huge old Ncw-

j foundlander,“Bernard,’* and his favorite poin- ter, * Soho”

The mild bree/e bore in tne sweet penume of the honey suckle from a neighboring arbor, and the broad Potomac, stretched tranquilly onwards, undisturbed save by the occasional gibe of the boom, or lazy creak of the rudder of some craft, reflected with her white sails

upon its surface. The garden, with its white

gravelled walks, bordered with box,descend- ed in parterres to the river’s edge, an embroi- dered carpet orflowers; and lemon and orange

trees, released from their winter’s confine- ment, displayed their golden fruit, hanging amid the green leaves in tempting profusion I bent over, and looked into the ha minor k, and could not hut admire the serenity of the manly features, the measured heave ol the broad chest, and the masses of raven locks, playing around the while forehead of the sleeper, as they were slowly lifted hv the play of the passing wind. I thought it were a sin to disturb him, so drawing out my cigar case, l stretched myself on the settee at his side, complacently reclining my head upon its arm — wlnies watching the blue smoke of my “Re- galia,” as it slowly wreathed and floated a-

hove my nose—whiles watching the still drea my flow o! the river—and whiles—if l must confess it—cogitating which had been the

wisest, myself the bachelor, or Tom the mar-

ried man,- Tom, myself, the dogs, forming a

tolerably correct picture of still life. A still life that remained unbroken for some half hour, when though the glass door of the drawing-room a beautiful boy of three or four years came galloping into the piazza, and bounding towards the dogs, threw himself fell length upon the shaggy Newfoundlander, manfully striving to pull open his huge jaws with ins little hands. The Newfouulander. opening his eyes, saw me,and raising himself on his legs, gave, a low growl;whi!e the child, relinquishing h'n hold upon the ears to which he had clung, as the dog rose to his feet, came

slowly up tome,and placing his plump little hand upon my knee, locked curiously and in-

quiringly into my face, his golden locks falling in a profusion of ringlets down his superb sun-

burnt shoulders. I was charmed with the confidence, and innocence, and sweetness

beaming from his gaxe, and took him upon my knee, his hand playing with my watch guard, while his beau’iful blue eyes remained fixed in the 6ame look of curious inquiry on mine. I said it was a picture of still life.— Tom,aroused by the dog, slowly lifted his head over the edge of the hammock, rubbed his eyes as if uncertain whether he were in a

dream, as 1 calmly and silently returned his astonished gaze, and then, with a single swing, was at iny side, both of my hands clasped in his. The next moment, I fancy the picture was other than still life.

Why should I tell you or the lea-table, load ed with delicacies in the matted hail, as the soft evening sun-set poured its last rays through it? of the symnietrea! figure clad in sn owy whiteness—the Grecian features, the dark An rialusian eyes, beaming with kindness from behind the glittering^ifver at its head? Why that the youngster tied by the handkerchief in the high chair a t his mother's side, pertena- ciously kicked>bis tiny red shoes about him in frolic glee, while my little knight of the gold- en locks,did the duty of the treneher at his father’s elbow? Why that as the shades of evening faded into twilight, that the young gentry were snugly ensconsed .in.their little bed, the mother's soil cheek pressed against the forehead of the eldest as he lisped hia eve- ning prayer? and why, *« soon "liltetwo twin rosea on one stalk," as they were wrapped in innocent s.umtier, we sat in the fading twilight talking over old scenes and boyish recolitc { tions, retracing our steps back to those days which softened by the lapse of time; appear divested of every thing save brightness mid sunshine? why but to tel! you that «e were aroused from those retrospections, by the aotmd aTifcc cocecb-gamg bell, musically chi- cmgia the distance. Ttte slow-tolling—now almostdying away, and now striking more

strongly upon the ear—arose from the church in the neighboring town, where my f friends were in the habit of worshippingrand where

they were to have the opportunity on thateve- ning of hearing ttie voire of their time-honor- ed pastor—an opportunity-which his great age ; ar.d increasing infirmities had made equally j rare and valuable. 1 gladly availed myself (A

the invitation to join them, as aside from a i

desire ter see the aged man, of whom 1 had so

often heard, if there is a time for devotion ; more consonant to my feelings than another, it is when the quietness and serenity of a sum- j mer’s evening dispel all external impressions, and every thing appears in Unison with harmo-

ny and benevolence. As tve walked the short half mile between

the cottage and the church, the stars shone in 1 beauty amid the still rosy tints of the west, the night-hawk stooped towards us, ns he

j wheeled in his ary circles—the %v hip-poor- > will in the adjoining meadows sounded his ‘mournful note, and the crickets, with the

chicping frogs in the neighboring ponds, sus-

tained a ceaseless chorus. Arrived at the

church-yard, we picked our way among the :»|<| brown tomb stones, ibeir quaint devices, contrasted here and there with others of more

! modern pretension in white marble, and en-

tering the church, look our seats in silence, i We were early ; but as the church gradually ♦ filled, it was interesting to watrh group after

j group, as U noiselessly measured the aisles, and sunk quietly upon the cushioned seals. Now and then, a pair of bright eyes would glance curiosly around from beneath a

gay bonnet, and a stray tress be thrown has-

tily aside; but alas! those clad in the habili- ments of woe, ton, too often, moved, phan- tom like, to their places; the lights, as they threw a momentary glare on their pale,care- worn laces, making more dark the badges which affection has assumed as a tame, index of the inward grief. The slow toll of the bell ceased, the silence became more deep—an occasional cough—the rust-

ling of a dress—the turn of a leel alone breaking ihe perfect stillness.

The loud tones of the organ rose gently and

sweetly, and the voluntary floated softly and mist like over ihe assembly; now rising, and tailing and undulating, with like dreamy har-

mony, as if the JEolian Harp, were answering with the passing airs playing among its strings the Ocean gently leaving her pebbly shores; then gradually rising and increasing in depth, it grandly and solemnly ascended upwards, till thrown back reverbrated from the walls of ihe circular dome above us, jt rolled away in deep and distant thunders. All became

again silent. The venerable form of a man

of fourscore years, his hair bleached with the shows of eighty waters, rose slowly in the

pulpit, and a3 with eyes closed, yet lifted to

Heaven, he feebly supported hm'-flf with out-

stretched arms npon its cushions, we heard almost in a whisper, ‘‘Let us pray, mv breth- ren,” fall tremulously from his lips. Nought but the perfect stillness, enabled us at first to

hear the sentences pronounced with evident and painful effort; bill as he advanced in

prayer, that almost whisper, became firm and distinct, and his pallid cheek lighted up with a

hectic flush, os he waxed eloquent in the pre- Bence ol his maker.

His venerable features appeared to glow almost with inspirations, as he drew near the throne of the Holy One; and the hearts of the mourners beat more calmly,as they felt them- selves carried into the presence of Him that suffered. More thoughlles than the swallow that skims the summer skies, must he have been, who could have heard that prayer, and not have joined with reuerence in its solemni- ty. His chising words still ring upon my ear, and long will retrain stamped upon my mem-

ory. “My children—Your fathers, and your fa-

thers’ fathers have listened to my voice —

Generations have passed by me to their long account,and still I have teen left, and still my voice hath arisen from this holy place —

Woe! woe is me, ii my Master hath looked upon me as a slack ami unworthy servant to

people. My Children—but a few short days, and this trembling voice that still strives to teach his blessed will, shall be hushed in that sleep which the Archangel’s alone shall break —this tottering form be laid beneath the mould from whence it came, there to remain

till that trump shall demand i*s presence at

the Judgment Seal. Hut with the last tones

of that voice, with the last grasp of these tumbling hands, l extend to you this sacred volume, as your guide to happiness in this, your only light into the world to come.

The sneers ol human reason and vain phil- osophy shall desert you assuredly, my children as you stand upon the edge of that awful pre- cipice, where each of you alone must take the lated plunge into thedeepdarkness of the fu- ture—but this, shall make clear your passage •is brightest noon-day. My child en—I look back upon you as 1 speak—my hand is on the door latch—my foot upon the threshold—oh! when your short days like mine are numbered, may you with the same reliance in his eiercy, say,Lo, Master, we vStaml without—receive us

into thy Kingdom.” As the service ended, it was good to see the

kind hearted feeling, with which the congre- gation gathered around the good old man—lor he was pure, and sincere, and true; and of a

variety as he said, his voice had arisen among them above the infant’s wail, at the baptismal font—had j >ined them with cheerfulness at ihe

marriage feast, and still been heard in solrnn sympathy nt the side of the dark and silent grave. It was the last time that he address- ed them. Not many days, and another voice pronounced the burial service of the dead in ihat green churchyard, and the form of the venerable man was covered from their sight beneath its sod.

As we returned to our cottage home, the cresent moon was streaming iri silvery bright- ness, the constellations and galaxy resplen- dent with “living fi es,” and the far, far worlds rolling in immeasurable distance, ns

twinkling stars tienibled upon our human vis- ion. The dews of night were moist upon the grass, as we remeasured the lawn that led to

the cottage, where, alter planning our visit for the following morning to Mount Vernon, we soon were wrapped in contented and grateful repose. S.

The New York Tribune says, that Mr.

Clay is now substantially nominated for the Presidency by Whig Stale, and other Conven-

tions, so that he may be deemed the candi- date of the whole Whig Party. ‘‘Such being the notorious fact,” 3dds the Tribune, “it seems to us that the idea ofholding a Nation- al Convention to nominate is mistaken and

preposterous. Such a Convention, as things aie, could do nothing but declare what every one already knows. Of Gen. Scott, says the Tribune; “though a 'few Whig Journals hold up his name in Pennsylvania, it Is manifest that Mr. Clay is the choice of the majority.”— The Tribune,however, anticipating reverses

to come for tome time yet upon this new issue

says:— •‘Let no friend, of Henry Clay or the Whig

cause be lor one moment depressed by the re- verses which are very likely to befall us in

those Stales where Elections are belt! this summer, before the Whigs have lime to rally and recover from the effects of the treacher- ous blows which have been dealt them, the keen disappointments and unmerited reverses by which they have been overtaken. The

great battle of 1844 is notto be fought between our now betrayed and temporarily broken squadrons and the compact ranks and even front our of opponents, bu: the contrary.— Every month will add to our organization and strength, while it developes their inevita- ble division aud consequent weakness. Then whatever may be our immediate fortunes; lei us remember the contrast of 1839 with 1840.

%

From the Philadelphia Evening Journal. JOHN G. CALHOUN. j

The dl&overy of a gold mine on the plan- tationol a statesman, is naturally calculated to attract the attention of those who are not

so readily excited by the more precious jewels of the soul. No man could so well dispense with the adventitious lustre of this brilliant ore, as John C. Calhoun; who, amidst great faults, mingles such splendid talents, as to*

command respect where he cannot excite

love; and survive denunciations whose mere

echoes would overwhelm men of the common j order of creation.

This meteor of the South—whose glare has

terrified, ami whose explosions have shaken

| the Union to the centre—John C. Calhoun—

| still lives to draw around him die hopes of

friends, and to excite the fear3 of rivals; a

; wonderful example ol the unconquerable po-

wer of genius, to resist oppression, repel injus- tice, and brave the peliings of the popular

I storm, sustained only by conscious energy,

j and an invincible spirit, impervious to the lava i of the political volcano.

1 No man lias been so fiercely denounced by ! the rancour of ul tra parry hatred, as Mr. Cal-.

; houn. His genius and bis position make him

! a prominent mark lor delamaiion, as well as

intrigue. Combining the elements ol great- ness, in their more energetic and terrific forms, he became, in proportion, an object ol

fear, as well as a source of ‘‘agitation.” His

position always made him formidable—his geniu3 always rendered him invincible.

A Statesman, when he started tor the Pres-

idency, he had more dignity than attends an

ordinary politic.an, to give him weight and

importance in popular estimation. A member of the cabinet, under Madison and Monroe, he shared too largely in the political fame of

; those fathers of the republic,to he lightly dis i posed of, in the allotment ol national dignities by a free and generous people, when their

: credulity wa8 not abused by the mendacity of a venal and sordid press. But this artificial strength, as a powerful minister of a republi- can cabinet, did not avail Mr. Calhoun, in the

, “agitating” limes which succeeded the term

of Mr. Monroe. A strength of olFicial posi- tion, held in common with Mr.Crawford, was

j weakness to him. The caucus naturally ral- I lied around the “Treasury minister,’’ as bees cluster on flowers that yield the most honey. The caucus nomination of the treasury chief,

; left Mr. Calhoun to the great resources of his

resplendent genius. For the first nITi", he novv

fell the sublime emotions of soaring on eagle- pinions to dazzling heights,

i Throwing ofl all the trappings of official dig- nity, he now mixed among the people, joined in the “agitation” of the hour; and lent his voice to swell the loud huzzas, that made the welkin ring with “the Hero of New Orleans!” Mr.Calhoun wasa Jackson man, from that time, up to the installation of Mr Van Buren, as the official heir of he “Hero.” Rivalry never lacks cause of dissention. The warm embers ol the intrigues of Mr Mon- roes’s secret cabinet councils, were raked up by Mr. Crawford’s friends, to dislodge Mr. Calhoun and his adherents from the confi

! deuce and councils of the “Hero.” A lady’s fame and caste, were brought in, to ignite the semet mine; and the cabinet exploded on the alleged pretext of want of “unity.” The con

sequences were fatal to Mr. Calhoun, as the heirol the purple; and the Northern Star re-

mained in the ascendant—*'n northern man

with southern principles,” “treading in the footsteps of an illustrious predecessor.”

Cut ofF from all the artificial aids of official influnce, Mr. Calhoun noiv felt, and reiied on

his own strength—it was that of oeoius, ener-

gy, power, versatility—fertile in expedients— ingenious in sophistry—inventive in principles —lor which he had a wide field in a new the- ory ol Llepuolican Government—consolidated in the centre, by independent sovereignties working on the pivot of central union, oq{> for specified objects. Consistency has »o

affinity to genius —much less to ambition—if it even has any to a progressive age, and an

improving people —a government yet to he per fected in practice, and a country yet to be re

pleted by population. With die glorious privilege of Genius, Mr Calhoun invented •nul- lification;’ die startling doctrine of legal trea-

son, covered by the beautiful theory of ‘Re- versed rights:” yet so specious.a ml so formid- able, as to compel the whole Union to bow to one man; and a majority to sirike Hie Hag ol

“protection” to “compromise;” and succumb to the just doctrine of ‘‘imposts for revenue; ’

and no taxes on one portion of the people, to

be bestowed as counties to another! The moral effect of this conquest was tremendous. Its political consequences have been, and will continue important Mr. Calhoun has fre- quently since received the vote of his own

State for the Presidency; a trilling tribute paid to ins genius, when compared with the tremendous direction he has given to the Federal Constitution—as a Government ol compromises, for objects exclusively national, by States absolutely sovereign. The impress is one only to be made by a mind of stupen- dous power. It now agitates the country, and convulses parties The feud of the Whigs, is the fruit of his success; and the ve-

toes of John Tyler, proclaim that the seed of a government, of compromises, has blossomed and borne font, even among those who were

originally opposed to their author. No sooner had the whigs succumbed to his

newly invented principles, than Mr. Calhoun abandoned them, and returned to the demo- crats. Here again, he scorned the straight path of consistency, for the glorious aberra- tions of genius. Having vanquished the con

soiidation ol political power, lie now declared war against the consolidation of the money- power. From being the special champion, tie became the unrelenting foe of paper money

and hank monopoly. Again he waved tht Constitution over his head, and shouted “gold and silveras the legal money of the nation.

A whig Presicent responded; and the “veto” on the Bank bill by John Tyler, was another bnlliai t victory decreed to John C. Calhoun!

As a member of all parties—a leader of ev-

ery doctrine—a preacher ol the school of Ham- ill on—and also ol the school of Jefferson—at another, a free trade nulhfier—now, a nation ai bank advocate—and then, an enemy to its grinding monopoly—at one period recom-

! mending a standing army, a splendid govern- i ment, and a lavish expenditure—at another

opposed to them—we behold in Mr. Calhoun, a course of vacillation as extraordinary, as,

the vigor and corruscations of his genius. Ve-

rily, has Mr. Calhoun Ins faults; but who will deny him his perfections t With less ambi-

tion, he might be more perfect; but with less ambition, he might also have less genius; and j the planet that now blazes in its brilliancy, ;

would be obscured beyond the reach ol vi- ] sion, in the fogs generated by its own feeble- ness.

Mr. Calhoun is now a candidaie for the ! Presidency, not in virtue of his consistency hutofhis principles, worked out of an untried ■

Constitution, by the powers or a great intel- lect, through: the events, agitations, and rev-

olutions of a new age, emerging from the con-

structive powers of an old party, which forged !

fetters to the progressive advancement of new

generations. “Slate Rights,”opposed 10 Fed- eral consolidation—Metallic Money,” oppos- ed to boundless credits and bank ^monopolies —Limited Expenditures-^ Tariff for Revenue :

—and a liberal construction of the National ! Charter for national objects!

There is much splendour to captivate us, in such a man as Mr. Calhoun—but there is also much to cause us to pause—meditate—dis- trust—and avoid. We feel the importance o! the confidence inspired by unwavering fi-

delity to fixed principles, when we gaze upon

character ofstatc&man, who has made a rev-1 olution in the principles of the Constitution ; without disclosing the evils avoided, or the j good attained hy it. An ultra in all parties,' could hardly he a conservative in any.

Mr. Calhoun wants nothing hut the nomi- nation of the democratic P-rtv to rally all Ins

strength. The chivalry of his character has never been tarnished hy ridicule, or sarcasm:

for men never laugh at a volcano ; or satirise a giant. He combines ail the elements for

popular enthusiasm, without wanting any of the more substantial qualities whose graver character conciliates the esteem of the reflect- ing, the judicious, and the severe.

House of Representatives, July 15, 1342.

1 am aware that little or no importance is

attached by any body to the childish and

inonsensical |btufr that appears daily in the

columns of the Madisonian; and I should ne-

ver think it worth ill*1 tune it would occupy to

correct its misstatementsand falsehoods, were

they not sometimes copied into other papers

of more respectabiity and extensive circula-

tion; and lor this reason only I now undertake

the correction (/I an assertion that has been

| seve ra! times made, and is again repeated this i morning. It is “that 1 had submitted my

charges against Mr.Tyler to a Whig caucus

and the proposition to impeach him received only seventeen votes.”

i Where or by whom this unqualified fa!se- | hood was fabricated, I know not; but. in the absence of other evidence, it rests exclusive ly on the Editor. The object is palpable

j enough, and it has not failed entirely to ue-

;coruplish its purpose, which was to weaken ihe posi’ion 1 have taken and to enlist a por- tion of the *etier writer and Whig press a

gainst the proposition as one disapproved by ihe party. By the way I would fliere remark that when the letter writers, who, in manv in-

srances, are worthy and respectable men, are sent here by the people to legislate on so

important a subject, a will be time enough for them to undertake to control it

£o jar lrom there hemg any tounuauon tor

this story, I have not attended a Whig caucus

for several month?, nor lias one bten heid since these charges were committed to wri-

ting, to my knowledge. Tney have not been submitted for approval or disapproval to ar.y

portion of the party, arid are now published to

give an opporiunity t*> the House and ibe coun-

try to consider them in ail their bearings* In my remarks in the House on Monday

lasti exonerated the Whig party from any

participation in the proposed movement, it is

wholly and solely my own, concluded on after mature and anxious reflection, from a solemn conviction of duty to my constituents, to the

Constitution, the country, and *o my own in-

uiviu-j:! y" American c::::cr., resc!- ved to resist the encroachment of power in

evejy constitutional form. Let tfi• >se submit who choose, my disposition is to maintain tiie rights of the People and of the Legislative branch of the Government against the as-

sumption of Executive power. i concluded to prefer those charges when

the proper lime arrived, with a due sense of ihe|responsibility, trusting to others to dis-

charge their duties according to their senseoi

propriety. As to "the sufficiency of cause lor impeach-

ment, as far as 1 know, there is lut e differ- ence of opinion as to the mere question ol ex-

pediency. There may be some honest t ut

timid men, who fear a sympathy may be cre-

ated in behalf of Mr. Tyler bv the cry of per-

secution; but to my mind it would be quite as

reasonable anil sensible tosuller a mad dog tu

escape that had run through the public streets biting every living thing be met with, from an

apprehension that it might excite a sympathy for him by the cry of kill hirn Mr. Tyler lias

persecuted too many, and has been the cause

of too ranch suffering in the country, to talk about persecuting him.

Ino^der to correct this, fine of the many

gratuiious and groundless assertions connect

ed with my name on the part of the Editor n*

the Madisonian an! bis correspondents, I must request the publication ol this letter.

Respectful! v, JOHN M. H >TTS.

Correspondence <d the Express. Washington, July 1 1.

The artiee in the Express of Tuesday in irn-

iug, as to “the progress of the nego'iatioii' now going on beiwee'' Lord Ashburton am!

Mr. Webster,’’ though m ’he mam eoriect.

does injustice to Mr. l'i> -E*. one nl tjie ! • r

CoimniNsomer:; from I *;C IS’. i o! '• a?ne. i »e—

'or** Mr. Preble an 1 veil in me «*11 \, it t\, tear-

ed tr ';n f*is ageim* in for me: ut guti** t;oas, re-

sulting not altogether credit < *iy t * .vm-r E

.-liul not at all satislac.t .riy to Maine, In <1 h<s

present position w ml 1 prn/e i it her an hmd- ranee than omerwi>e in the conclusion ol any negotiations I am assn.ed upon the contra*

ry, and Bom good autnoriiy, that Mr. JEch.e has been as anxious’o <»mciuie a treaty a>

any ol his aesociales, and that ne ha s !a bored with as much earnestness as any ol them m

accomplishing a result so desirable. riius much in justice to fhe man.

In regard to the progress made in the nego- tiation, l am sorry to say that, as tar as

known, it is not a progress to a conclusion —

No one, however, despairs, and many more

eliorts will probably be made before negotia- tions are broken off. Do you not over

rnafe ihe importance of ihe tree iih vigalion <d

the St Johns,as a n e«jui vn lent to t he sunender of the territory asked by Great Britain.' It i>. 70u know,but little more thana tree navigation for logs. A high duty to be sure, is imposed upon them, and the navigat on is solely un-

der the control of the British Government.— To remove these duties would 1 e someth ng hut hardly an e,u valent !or the ri^ht of w»y

lover the disputed territory. Great Briia n

I through her Special Minister here may and to

this perhaps. House's Point and the strip ui

Ipiid on another border 1 his witn the expen- ditures incurred hv Maine, might he equiva- lent to the surrender ol the territory east n| the St. John. But fur instructions;, fc is wou’d no doubt be proposed, and with them it may be accepted under a fair construction of the instruction? given. Do not despnr as yet that

I this legal question may nut be settled by the

■present Commissioner?. II not arbitration .vill be resorted to by general consent.

Extract of a letter Jated

Nashville, July 4, 1812.

“As you are officially advised of the move-

ments of our Banks, it would be superfluous for me to offer any opinion respecting resump-

tion, but must remark that I feel assured that this measure will go into effect without excitement, and without any extraordinary demand for coin. The Banks are anticipat- ing the first of August, by paying specie now, when called on, for moderate sun s, which is

a most public mov^, and is rapidly giving con-

fidence to the public mind. “The prospect for crops of every kind has

never been more encouraging. The impor- tations for the fall trade cannot he heavy, and I think we may reasonably expect a great im-

provement in the times in 1813. And it is most devoutly to he hoped,that when we have compassed a sound state of things, that we

may profit by our experience, nor again soon

become involved in the difficulties under which the country has been for some lime

laboring._ The best Joke Afloat.—A State Com-

mittee of the friends of Gen. Scott, in Penn- sylvania have put forth a call for a State Con- vention, at Harrisburg, the ‘26th of July, in

which they remark, “The present executive ha vmg committed himself to the principle of a single term, and being inflexibly tenacious of his personal consistency, cannot he expect- ed to yield to any persuasion to become a can-

didate for a re-electiop. That will do. a <

[communicated. J FOURTH OF JULY AT UPPERVILLE, VA.

The late anniversary of our National Inde- pendence was celebrated by the citizens ot

Upperville and its vicinity, with an enthusi- asm characteristic of that spirited people. At an early hour in the morning, the village was

vocal with strains of martial music, anima-

ted with the presence of a large numberof the

sovereign people, .and illuminated with ihe

bright eyes and beaming faces of manif ot

our fair maids and matrons. At 11 o’clock, anj imposing procession, consisting of the Orator,! Chaplain, Reader of the Declaration of lnde-1 pendence, Capt. Vanhorn’s Volunteer ComJ pany, the Teachers and Children of the seve*j ral Sunday School*, the Temperance Sorie-1 ties with appropriate banners, invited gucsisl and citizens, was formed by Mr, L. P. Bayn$H the Chief Marsha!, and marched to the nmsicl

nf the Snickersville hand to the Methodistl Church, which had been kindly tendered fori the occasion. Letter? were now read Horn

several gentlemen of reputation, who had

been expected to deliver addresses. The ei*

ercises were then commenced by Mr. Foste*j and the choir, and an appropriate prayer by

'the Rev. Mr. Phelps, the Chaplain of the day. Duct. S. K. Jackson then rea l the Declara-

tion of Independence, prefacing it with a brjef and chaste address. The band now struck

up Hail Columbia, after which, an oration

was pronounced bv Duct. A C. Smith. replete! with sound, patriotic v*ews. and hiyh moral; sentiment* wnMbv of tne occasion.

The President of the IVmrierance Society, the Rev Mr >*! a lighter, then ro^e, and .alter

paying a brief tribute to the men an 1 even s

of the revolution, called the attention ol tne

j people to the fact that we were in the midst

'ofanother revolution—a great moral retalu-

tion, that since the establishment of our civu

independence, our people have become the slaves of a moral despotism far more degrad- ing in it* nature, and ruinous in its consequen-

ices than the civil tyranny o! which ive were

lonce the subjects—that the people impatientuf ihe;»* sufferings were now rising in a mass,—that

‘the spirit ol ’70 was again pervading all ages

sexes, and conditions,ami that there could not

be a more fit time than the present to declare

our independence ol this moral Despot. He

! then brougfit forward aTemperunce Devia- tion, personifying Alcohol as a moral tyrant, and running a parallel between the wrongs in-

flicted by him and the King of Great Britain

upon the people of these States. This pa.er was received with many demonstrations o;

approbation; whereupon Mr E. Hall in an en-

ergetic address proposed its unanimous adop- tion by the meeting, when there was a simul-

taneous rising of a large majority of the as-

sembly. The company then proceeded to a

neighboring grove, where several addresses were delivered, and a Cold Water festival provided by an excellent Committee of Ar-

rangements, and superintended by Major Ar-

mislead who performed h;s office with tlie

blended dignity and ease peculiar to the few

j surviving idies of the Old Virginia gentrv.— Thvs passed our first *J?h of July Celebra- tion under the auspices of the Temperance S •

ciety — Not a drunkard was seen among the

multitude imr did any event occur 10 mar the

beauty amt order u| tt;e scene.

Correspondence oT the Counei &. Enquirer. WashiToM July !J, |S42

The Senate are industriously engaged in

bringing up the arrears <d il.t.r Executive

business. Another private seSMOti oj consul*

[er.ible length was heid to-day, ui winch Geo. ■ W. (’iinton, F.q.. iiom nate i by Hie President

: h e a pu i • t •; it ii t y C »lleciur o! the Port*' j », i> :i s ri n*«* t vl by a Cn»>e vote

There were i ;i:i *r o reprev iHitions ma ’e

j r») toe fin-q.ie of hu!! tl », req tring the ret* ■

j ! i »:i ui »ii * s n nnina on, many n! which cm.-e

.0111 person, oil.erw i*e Iriendly to Mr Chr-

j ton. an * wh * h * ! Vo'eU hr linn as .Mayor

I I s.Viii jitnhaMy s » i lr. ve Uie f>lea>ure of g;v;;j ion s one p i ct. ai*s :s to the CHC an-

i s,,ince*’ iiite.'iling .Mr. Graham’s noinmati u

:,s Po .Master m your c iv. Some of the-e ! ;ri;t;ru!ars are excee ingiy tad,, and hive but Irecenti) come into rnv possession, Had thev Nren kiiii'vn at tin* tme be was before the

i Senate, M is rather more titan doubtful wheth* ler he wouM ever lo ve been confirmed.

\ir. Koosevelt, the Loco Foco repre»ei ta-

tive from your city, said in the I Jouse to nay, in the course o! a lew remarks, rli 11 “the nrX:

Congress will lie a Democratic free gde Cr di-

gress.’* From this we are to inter that thv Coctrirt

lofjreetrade is to he the watch word yf Loco

j Focusm. How will this agree with the views

jatnl interests of the mercantile an i niapufac- inruig p ipulalion of the North and Fist.2

j rite Loco Foco, m Congress are making I great exertions ami large offers tojmlure liig Whigs to give up Hie Land l hstnbution clout of tlie iaritt Bill, These efforts, however, wiil be without success. The Whigs aie de- terminer! :n the course which consistency aid n due regard to the great principles lor winch tney have contended requite Even though' the Tar Ii Bill he vetoed they will not rclin* qiish tins principle; hut bv passing a Bill at the ratio of 2d percent h.vsed on home valuation it may be possible to avoid the embarrasstnen of a veto, and establish a system of revenue which wiil be adequate to; reasonable prouc lion. A. Z.

1 PROMOTIONS IN TIIK ARMY RY THE PRESIDENT.

Ihj and with the advice and consent of th' Senate:

Brevet <'olone! J. B. Wa!bach,to be Colonel !of the 4th regiment of Artillery, March 19 1 Is 12, vice Fenwick, deceased, i Brevet Lieutenant Colonel B K. Pierce, to

be Lieutenant Colonel of tlie 1st regiment ol artillery, March 19, 1912. vice Waibach,pro-

| inoted. I Brevet Major Levi Whiting, to be Major of the 1st regimmeni of Artillery, March 19,13421 vice Pierce promoted.

First Lieutenant W. P. Bainbridge, to be Captnioof the Bh regiment «»f Artillery, Maich 19, 1842, vice Whiling, promoted.

Second Lieutenant J. C. Pemberton, to be First Lieutenant of the 4th regiment of Artille- ry, March 19, 1912, vice Bambndge promoted.

First Lieutenant James R Irwin, to be Cap- tain of the 1st regiment of Artillery, May 16, 1312, vice F. Whiting, deceased.

Second Lieutenant Henry C Wayne, be First Lieutenant ol the 21 si regiment oj Art die

ry, May 16, 1812, vice Irwin, promoted. Brevet Second Lieutenant John M Brannan

to be Second Lieutenant of the I*t regiment of Artillery, May 16, 1342, vice Wayue, pro- moted.

Second Lieutenant Charles F. Wccstcr, to

be First Lieutenant of the 4ih regiment of A r-

tillerv, June 10, 1842, vice Jones resigned. George Hoist, of the State of South Caroli-

na, to be Assistant Surgeon, July 12, 19!-' Charles C. Keenev.of the Staieof Michigan

to be Assistant Surgeon. July 12, 1812.

TEMPERANCE FANS. DOZ. just opened, by July 4—2w C. >1. & F. TAYLOR