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Fer I ollers hev strove (at least thet's my impres

sion) To make cussed free with the rights o'the North,”

Sez John C. Calhoun, sez he ;-
“Yes,” sez Davis o' Miss.,

“ The perfection o' bliss
Is in skinnin' thet same old coon," sez he.

Slavery's a thing thet depends on complexion,
It's God's law thet fetters on black skins don't


Ef brains wuz to settle it (horrid reflection !)
Wich of our onnable body'd be safe ? ”
Sez John C. Calhoun, sez he ;-

Sez Mister Hannegan,

Afore. he began açin, “ Thet exception is quite oppertoon,” sez he. “ Gen’nle Cass, Sir, you needn't be twitchin' your

Your merit's quite clear by the dut on your knees,
At the North we don't make no distinctions o'color;
You can all take a lick at our shoes wen you

Sez John C. Calhoun, sez he ;-

Sez Mister Jarnagin,

They wunt hev to larn agin,
They all on 'em know the old toon,” sez he.


“ The slavery question aint no ways bewilderin. North an' South hev one intrest, it's plain to a

glance; No’thern men, like us patriarchs, don't sell their

childrin, But they du sell themselves, ef they git a good

Sez John C. Calhoun, sez he ;-

Sez Atherton here,

“ This is gittin' severe,
I wish I could dive like a loon,” sez he.

“ It'll break up the Union, this talk about freedom, An' your factry gals (soon ez we split) 'll make

head, An' gittin' some Miss chief or other to lead 'em, 'll to work raisin' promiscoous Ned,” Sez John C. Calhoun, sez he ;

Yes, the North," sez Colquitt,

“ Ef we Southeners all quit, Would down like a busted balloon,” sez he.




“Jest look wut is doin', wut annyky's brewin'

In the beautiful clime o' the olive an' vine, All the wise aristoxy is tumblin' to ruin, An’the sankylots drorin'an'drinkin' their wine," Sez John C. Calhoun, sez he ;

Yes," sez Johnson, “ in France

They're beginnin' to dance
Beelzebub's own rigadoon,” sez he.

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“ The South's safe enough, it don't feel a mite

Our slaves in their darkness an' dut air tu blest
Not to welcome with proud hallylugers the ery
Wen our eagle kicks yourn from the naytional

Sez John C. Calhoun, sez he ;-

“ 0," sez Westcott o’ Florida,

66 Wut treason is horrider Then our priv'leges tryin' to proon ?” sez he. " It's 'coz they're so happy, thet, wen crazy sarpints Stick their nose in our bizness, we git so darned


We think it's our dooty to give pooty sharp hints,
Thet the last crumb of Edin on airth shan't be

Sez John C. Calhoun, sez he ;-

“ Ah,” sez Dixon H. Lewis,

“ It perfectly true is Thet slavery 's airth's grettest boon," sez he.

[It was said of old time, that riches have wings; and, though this be not applicable in a literal strictness to the wealth of our patriarchal brethren of the South, yet it is clear that their possessions have legs, and an unaccountable propensity for using them in a northerly direction. I marvel that the grand jury of Washington did not find a true bill against the North Star for aiding and abetting Drayton and Sayres. It would have been quite of a piece with the intelligence displayed by the South on other questions connected with slavery. I think that no ship of state was ever freighted with a more veritable Jonah than this same domestic institution of ours. Mephistopheles himself could not feign so bitterly, so satirically sad a sight as this of three millions of human beings crushed beyond help or hope by this one mighty argument,- Our fathers knew no better! Nevertheless, it is the unavoidable destiny of Jonahs to be cast overboard sooner or later. Or shall we try the experiment of hiding our Jonah in a safe place, that none may lay hands on him to make jetsam of him? Let us, then, with equal forethought and wisdom, lash ourselves to the anchor, and await, in pious confidence, the certain result. Perhaps our suspicious passenger is no Jonah after all, being black. For it is well known that a superintending Providence made a kind of sandwich of Ham and his descendants, to be devoured by the Caucasian race.

In God's name, let all, who hear nearer and nearer the hungry moan of the storm and the growl of the breakers, speak out! But, alas! we have no right to interfere. If a man pluck an apple of mine, he shall be in danger of the justice; but if he steal my brother, I must be silent. Who says this? Our Constitution, consecrated by the callous consuetude of sixty years, and grasped in triumphant argument by the left hand of him whose right hand clutches the clotted slave-whip. Justice, venerable with the undethronable majesty of countless æons, says, SPEAK! The Past, wise with the sorrows and desolations of ages, from amid her shattered fanes and wolf-housing palaces, echoes,-SPEAK! Nature, through her thousand trumpets of freedom, her stars, her sunrises, her seas, her winds, her cataracts, her mountains blue with cloudy pines, blows jubilant encouragement, and cries,-SPEAK! From the soul's trembling abysses the still, small voice not vaguely murmurs,--SPEAK! But, alas! the Constitution and the Honorable Mr. Bagowind, M. C., say,- BE DUMB!

It occurs to me to suggest, as a topic of inquiry in this connection, whether, on that momentous occasion when the goats and the sheep shall be parted, the Constitution and the Honorable Mr. Bagowind, M. C., will be expected to take their places on the left as our hircine vicars.

Quid sum miser tunc dicturus?
Quem patronum rogaturus ?

There is a point where toleration sinks into sheer baseness and poltroonery. The toleration of the worst leads us to look on what is barely better as good enough, and to worship what is only moderately good. Woe to that man, or that nation, to whom mediocrity has become an ideal!

Has our experiment of self-government succeeded, if it barely manage to rub and go ? Here, now, is a piece of barbarism which Christ and the nineteenth century say shall cease, and which Messrs. Smith, Brown, and others

say shall not cease. I would by no means deny the eminent respectability of these gentlemen, but I confess, that, in such a wrestling-match, I cannot help having my fears for them.

Discite justitiam, moniti, et non temnere divos.

H. W.]

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