Philadelphia-Phila_Colonization_Record09191838-0149; The Colonization herald and general register |
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Colonic atiott craft AND GENERAL REGISTER. CONDUCTED BY THE PENNSYLVANIA COLONIZATION SOCIETY. WHATSOEVER YE WOULD THAT MEN SHOULD DO TO YOU, DO YE EVEN SO TO THEM. Vol. I.—NEW SERIES. PHILADELPHIA, WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 10, 1838 NO. 38. From the Religious Magazine and Family Miscel¬ lany. THE CHRISTIAN PATRIOT.* Tiic social relations of man are a necessary condi¬ tion of his being, and the basis of obligations which environ him from the commencement until the close of his probation. At its successive stages he is met by the claims of a new economy, introduced to a sphere of new responsibilities and duties, for which the ante¬ cedent state was designed and admirably adapted to prepare him. Of the various characters which ho is thus called to BOSUin, and for which a previous train¬ ing has been provided, that of Me citizen is not the least interesting or important. The origin of his connection with the Etate, and the ground of its obligations, have been to the curious and the wise of every age, themes of ingenious specula¬ tion. A class have resolved it into an original com¬ pact between the governor and the governed, binding their descendants to all ages ; and others, who ascribe its origin to fortuitous circumstances, allow to prescrip¬ tion an authority equally paramount. By some it is considered the result of a voluntary, but irrevocable surrender on the part of each individual of personal right?; of a tacit consent on the part of the governed, by others, to be withdrawn al any moment that conve¬ nience or caprice may dictate ; while others still trace it directly to the divine will, and clothe the functions of the magistracy, however administered, with the permanent sanctions of Heaven. Leaving these theories and conjectures for the amusement or instruction of the philosophers who have raised them, it may be profitable to dwell for a few moments on some of the plain and obvious duties of the civil and social relations as we actually find them. The liability to overlook them in the pursuits of a*i engrossing selfishness, always and every where calls for a suitable exhibition of them. Under a government, iind in times like our own, they need to be presented and urged with tenfold emphasis. The object of human government is to meet a de¬ mand of the divine government. If the connection between the violation of law and its penalty were as immediate as it is sure; if at the guilty instant of transgression the sword of divine justice flashed retri¬ bution in the face of the offender, there would be neither occasion nor room for human laws. But the execution is deferred, and a world is left to the work¬ ings of unrestrained and unmitigated depravity. Amid elements so discordant and centrifugal, civil regula¬ tions are essential, not to the well-being but to the tolerable existence of society. The strong arm of Irgal power must be able to arrest and restrain by ponal inflictions the bold transgressor, whom the hopes and the fears of the future and the infinite cannot reach. Such being the occasion of government, its only legiti¬ mate object is the greatest good of the greatest num¬ ber of its subjects. The man who faithfully labours to secure it, is the true patriot. To Christian Patriotism 1 do not attach a shade of meaning, which dims the lustre of the native feeling. The man ceases not to be a man when he becomes a Christian ; the citizen ceases not to love his country when he begins to love his God. Religion has ap¬ proached bis selfish and baser affections, and transmu¬ ted them into ministers of blessing. The morally wrong it has transformed; the constitutional and na¬ tural it has strengthened, and secures their safe and beneficent exercise, substituting fixed principle for in¬ stinct and impulse. It is then an axiom with him, that in pursuit of the object named he is in every capacity to yield unquali¬ fied allegiance to the Supreme Ruler. An action in¬ consistent with his revealed will, the general good not less than personal safety forbids him to perform. If war bo an infraction of the great law of love, patrio¬ tism commands him to abstain from it. Relations, however interwoven with Hie fabric of society, in their essence sinful and which cannot continue without guilt, he knows cannot find a termination too speedy for na¬ tional safety. The line of rectitude is before him, and though it seemingly cross the path of his country's prosperity, he will not swerve. He is guided by lights which never flicker and cannot mislead, and the cuckoo note of fear doth not alarm him. When the law and the testimony do not decide, he is left to the dictates of an enlightened expediency. Let us now consider some of the duties which de¬ rive an indisputable sanction from one or both of these sources. The end of all is the same that has been stated, but their character is twofold, as they have for their immediate object government itself, or the sub¬ jects of government. The Christian patriot aims to secure for the govern¬ ment of his country, efficiency and success at home, respect and influence abroad. For this purpose he endeavours to place its admin¬ istration in the hands of safe and competent nun— men of religious principle, or in their absence those whose political affinities afford the strongest presump¬ tion of the correctness of their policy. The lists of partisan warfare he does not enter, but his post at the ballot box is never vacant. The turbulence which dis¬ gusts and annoys him, convinces him that his presence is needed to overawe it. Outvoted by venal patriots imported and indigenous, he feels that there is greater j occasion for his name and services, remembering that the history of the republic is interspersed with signal instances of the power of a virtuous minority. He farther upholds government by manifest respect for its officers and obedience to its laws—a practice essential to the stability of a constitution like our own. The despots who can enforce his edicts with the bayo¬ net, may dispense with it. His purposes move steadi¬ ly on lo tiicir consummation amid the deepest execra¬ tions of his subjects. But among ourselves, an unpop¬ ular law is nugatory without it. So important an ele¬ ment of influence has it been regarded, that in other countries the administration of justice is encircled with I factitious splendor. The grades and titles, the badges ! and retinue which impart it, are favourable to a class,' of feelings which have their merits and their uses—j less doubtless than result from our own system. But OOr good sense must compensate for a deficiency which is real; must teach us that an equal, invested with the insignia of power, is no longer an equal; must eradi- j cafe the bitter defamation of public character—that | besetting and fatal sin of the nation—calling to its aid the divine injunction not to speak evil of the ruler. In its ordinary acceptation, the " vox populi vox Dei" is a term of blasphemy ; but in an important sense it is literally true. Whenever the will of the people has deputed to one of their number the administration of a righteous law, authority higher than the popular suf¬ frage enjoins fealty and homage. With personal deference and obedience to govern¬ ment, the Christian citizen unites active co-operation in its maintenance. The ealvation of our country is staked upon the supremacy of her laws. Contingency here is insecurity every where. It is endangered by the prevalence and power of sinful practices, which, * Delivered at the Annual Meeting of the Porter Rhet¬ orical Society, Theo. Seminary, Andover, Sept 183T. from the known impotency of legal enactments to fet¬ ter the progress of moral sentiment, have towered above them, and enlisted their authors in the fool-hardy attempt to gain by violence what is denied by law. There is danger in an opposite direction from the same disposition to sacrifice righteousness on the altar of seeming expediency—in efforts for the extermination of actual evil, danger of countenancing the heresy that the end sanctifies the means. It is a mistake which good men among us have committed, who have found to their sorrow that they have roused a demon which they cannot lay—that the appetite which has been stimulated by a single repast, like the fabled Mi¬ notaur calls for a slated oblation—not the refuse and the base, but the noble and the worthy. The rage of an excited multitude is too awful, too potent to be the agent of a peaceful economy like ours. If it has hurl¬ ed from their deep foundations thrones and dynastiee, if Bnstiles and standing armies have been crushed be¬ fore it, if barricadoes and bolts cannot restrain or with¬ stand its impetuosity, what is to become of your guar¬ antees of parchment, your paper ordinances, your Con¬ stitution and Bill of Rights—a wreath in the grasp of the populace ! Be assured that our patriot will not remotely encourage a despotism, the most irresponsible, wanton and cruel, the most odious and insufferable that ever cursed humanity. I mention a remaining obligation to government which engages his special attention, that of watching its machinery, of insisting that its policy be regulated by principles of immutable rectitude. He recognizes the law of conscience as binding alike on the indivi¬ dual and the community. Penetrated with the con¬ viction that the nation's dignity and welfare are con¬ sulted, not by craft and strat3gem, but by an open and steadfast adherence lo the rules of equity, he will not tolerate a violation of them in her representative. He will call to account for abuse of trust the miscreants who have dishonored her name by shuffling and in¬ trigue, and compel them to give place to men imbued with the true spirit. Let us pass to the consideration of that class of du¬ ties, of which the welfare of the community is still the end, but of which its members and not its rulers car the objects. Aiming at the greatest happiness of all, he uses his influence in an individual and legislative capacity to promote their intellectual, moral and reli¬ gious improvement. Judicious labour hero saves the necessity of much in other departments. The remark would not be so trite if it were not so true, that however self-interest or mutual benefit may for a time cement our govern¬ ment, the intelligence and virtue of the people are its only safeguards. There are too many means of cor¬ ruption within the reach of unprincipled nmbilion, to render our liberties safe in the hands of those who can be seduced by the blandishments of power, or awed by its threats. Hence, appreciating the office of govern¬ ment as a remedial function, he appropriates its revo- nue to the diffusion of useful knowledge. Hence as a private citizen he yields an active support to those voluntary associations' of bencvolonoo, which teach the people the true objects, and train them to right habits of living. He need not be clothed with official patronage. The burden of our country's destiny rests upon men who appear not on the noisy arena, who in secluded and tinhnnoured retreats cherish the true feeling, and regulate the secret springs and sources of healthful influence. The hero of the tented field inflicting on his country's prosperity blows more fatal than on the hostile army, the politician aiming at the mere correc¬ tion of vice, have too long received the meed of praise from communities who forget that its prevention is the nobler duty, and the faithful Sabbath School teacher is a better citizen than either. In pursuit of his object, he guards the liberties of his countrymen against the encroachments of power. The freedom of speech and of the press are his birth¬ right—a citadel which he never surrenders. The in¬ solence of authority which attempts a restriction of this or a similar franchise, will effect its object only by the fetter and the gng. The lictor who is commission¬ ed on such an errand, will need the fasces and the axes. The obligation to defend the rights of others suggests lo him the duty of a temperate, but fearless and manly exercise of his own—a full investigation of all matters which atl'ect the public weal, and the free avowal of his sentiments. It is the glory of our system, when untrammelled, that it leaves him so directly responsi¬ ble to his Maker ; and observing how speedily among us principles are translated into action, he will feel the weight of a no ordinary responsibility. But his judg¬ ment cautiously formed is stable, and his course unde- viating. Not that concessions are never called for, particularly in a republic. Personal feeling may, and often must be surrendered. Clashing interests may, and should be compromised. But a compromise of principle—what is it, but its abandonment and sacrifice? Not by 6uch treachery will he seek to advance the in¬ terests of truth. But while he shields his country's liberty from usur¬ pation, he will be not less anxious lo save it from na¬ tional corruption, whose inroads are insidious, and require it, like the golden fruit, to be watched with sleepless jealousy. He is on the alert to detect the first symptoms of danger, and utters a distinct and timely note of warning. The exposure of faults, though an ungracious duty, he feels to be yet a duty. Among the prognostics which darken our present sky, the spirit of faction would doubtless arrest his attention; which, inconsistent by its definition with the end of government, and deaf to the calls of reason and humanity, tramples on feelings and rights, and hesitates not to enthrone its idol on the ruins of the constitution. Another indication, to him of alarming import, would be the love of gain which has seized the nation—the eager chase of riches. I need but allude to it at a lime when, through the length and breadth of the land, the altars of Mammon are smoking with its victims. From the barren selfishness of this passion he would aim to save us, and would feel himself impelled by no trivial motive, when he saw his fellow-christian, both laymen and clergy, hurried headlong by the rage of speculation; speculation ! the Legion which is rending us. I mention a single omen more, which would both alarm his fears and enlist his services—the existence among us of a domestic institution, inconsistent with the principles of civil liberty and the precepts of the Christian religion. As a patriot and a Christian, he would labour for the removal of a stain, which as an American and a Christian, he could not but feel. I stood on the wharf of a western city, as the boats were leaving, freighted for the southern market. Their upper decks were lined with the subjects of a traffic, which I will not name. They stood in mute and sul¬ len gloom, occasionally softened to an aspect of piteous and forlorn grief, at the sight of a company of their relatives and friends—their wives and husbands, their children and parents, their sisters and brothers—assem- bled on the bank to snatch a parting and final glance. I watched that group, and sure I am that tears and j looks of dumb agony found their way to heaven, with j which tlieyeaw the objects of their love wafted slowly j from their sight, consigned to the living death of a Louisiana, plantation. As I reflected that in the sor¬ row so eloquently depicted on those countenances, I witnessed the yearnings of a natural affection prover¬ bially strong; as I thought of the delicate and endear¬ ing ties so ruthlessly sundered; as I saw the sacred attributes which I had been taught to revsro and love trodden under the heel of insolent despotism, every in¬ stinct of my nature arrayed itself against the perpe¬ trators of this outrage on humanity. I had but too re¬ cently breathed the free air of New England, to re¬ strain the mingof indignant and virtuous hate towards the system, which had conjured up the spectacle be¬ fore me. But it was with humbled and subdued emo¬ tions that I called to mind the image of my country; recollected that under the aegis of her protection this anomaly of evil had flourished in sheltered security; that through so vast a territory overshadowed by her wing, scenes of as tragic interest, of as moving pathos, might be daily witnessed ; might be and were, because in many places the life-blood of a system which allow¬ ed them every where. And to what, let me ask, does the spectacle appeal 1 As he turned from such a scene, not loving his country less, but hating her faults more, would he not devote himself with emphatic earnest¬ ness to the work of redeeming political freedom from glaring inconsistency, the blessings of religion from foul and damning taint, from barbarian rudeness and ferocity the nineteenth century of the Christian era ? As a means of saving both government and people from dangers like these, the Christian citizen aims to present objects worthy of national ambition. The line of a nation's policy is the thread of a nation's des¬ tiny. The genius of our own people has not yet re¬ ceived a decisive bent, and is waiting for a formative agency. Pre-eminence in the arts and sciences, or a literature which should give new Miltons and Shak- speares to a renovated language, would be to many the acme of national renown. Greatness and glory are associated in the minds of others only with the strength of armies and the pride of navies. A less dazzling but to his rye a nobler exhibition, is power dispensing blessings—a nation laying the foundations of its fame in the gratitude and joy of distant ages and climes, and by deeds which keep its functions in healthful activity, expelling that corroding ambition which would destroy its vitals. But the patriot and the Christian shine conspicuously in his steadfast attachment to country, under disap¬ pointment and trial. Gratitude for her cornucopia of blessings is the predominant feeling, and his mind dwells on the objects which enkindle affection and zeal. The motto of patriot statesman of old—never to despair of the Republic—is engraven on his heart. Ho has no sympathy with the men, whose evil fancies are disturbing the peace of the present, and blighting tho hopes of the future, with dark forebodings; who witness in every moment an expiring throe, and revel in scenes of anticipated disaster and infamy. The gift of second vision has not enabled him to look down the vista, and the phantoms of terror whit h throng it do not Imunt l,i«. iU»wghta Ho L-nows th'„- nrinciple3 in the highest degree conservative, often, pernapo «....„. sally, in their practical operation occasion partial and temporary inconvenience, as the tempest which ravages the land and strows the ocean with wrecks, is the min¬ ister of a wholesome provision for the freshness and purity of the atmosphere, and the fertility of nature. If he entertained well-grounded fears, he would cau¬ tiously avoid an expression of them which would only hasten the catastrophe he dreaded. A feeling of sadness, a sense of shame may steal over him as he enters the halls of legislation, and looks at the seats of the Ilainiltons and the Henrys of a former day. The ostracism of party may have banish¬ ed from the nation's councils the men who guided her through trying emergencies; who spake, and the wel¬ kin rang with their plaudits. But, he reflects, they are not lost to their country, and a crisis will prove it. On smooth waters, beneath serene heavens, the vessel may dispense with seamanship in the mariner, or skill at the helm ; but let a storm threaten, and tho instinct of self-preservation will summon to her management the tried crew and the veteran pilot. Wc open tho writings of Fisher Ames, the Edmund Burke of America, with a pensive regret that the even¬ ing of his brilliant life should have been clouded by political despondency. The ascendancy of the demo¬ cratic party is a death-blow to his fond hopes of the republic. The dangers of French Jacobins are gleam¬ ing before his vision. Sick with the eight of corrup¬ tion, chafed and wounded in the contest with evils which he cannot subdue, he retires to brood in bitter¬ ness over the wreck of his earthly schemes, over the deep profligacy and the deeper prospective ruin of his country. Yet he cannot abandon her to her fate, and from his Sibyl retreat scatters to the winds prophetic strains—mournful, but thrilling with such eloquence of expostulation and warning and entreaty, as the world has not since listened to. The apathy of the good stings him with the poignoncy of despair, and he welcomes the messenger of release from a trial, the greatest conceivable. Vainly was this mighty spirit thus sorrowfully wasted. The youthful republic sur¬ vived the fears of her patriot, and promises to outlive them long. Turn we to a model—even Washington. Amid the perplexities of the cabinet, the wiles of faction, the cries and complaints of universal distress; in the din of battle and the confused retreat, behold the patience, the courage, the fortitude, tho serenity of the man. In the moment of deepest gloom, while stout hearts are trembling and 6trong men are bowing before the storm, his voice is heard above the warring elements, in tones which cheer the fainting spirits and rally the broken energies of a disheartened nation. The patriot may despair; the Christian patriot, never. He knows the way to the mercy-seat, and when the heavens are shrouded with the signals of dismay, the power which calmed Gennesareth will again be invoked, the fiat which created light will again be uttered, and the bow of promise shall gild the retiring tempest. As we press forward to assume responsibilities like these, we cannot be too deeply sensible of the delicacy and the magnitude of the trust; treading on no com¬ mon theatre, guardians of no common interest, arbiters of no common destiny. The dwellers on the earth gazed with no ordinary wonder and expectation, when this new sphere was hung in the firmament. Amid worlds and systems time-worn and crazy and lagging, its mighty orbit was spanned, and it rushed on its path¬ way of splendor, a signal to the universe—the admira¬ tion and the joy of all lands. But not alone by its bright example was it to beckon the nations to freedom and to happiness. It started at an era when the true relations of man were beginning to be understood, and his obligations to his fellow and to his Maker acknow¬ ledged and felt And while the nations of the Old World were groaning under a load of ills which centu¬ ries had accumulated and which are crushing them still with mountain weight, our nation, in the freshness and elasticity of youthful vigour, was left unshackled to develope her mighty resources, and free to employ them for the welfare of the race. To aid in securing this glorious original design, is the pleasing and weigh¬ ty service committed to our hands. To those of us who have come up, for the last time, to share the festivities of our Society, the subject ad¬ dresses itself with peculiar interest. We are reminded, gentlemen, as we close a relation of mutual improve¬ ment and endearment, that it is to enter on a broader, that the bond of common country still unites us. The eve of enlistment in the service is a fitting season for self-consecration to its duties. Some of us are to labour in New England, on soil hallowed by the graves of our fathers. It will be to us a delightful office of filial piety, to perpetuate the monuments and tho memory of their worth ; to aim to restore and preserve the simplicity of anc;ent manners, the primitive integrity of New England character; to ward off assaults on her honoured institutions ; to ren¬ der her, what to a great extent she ever has been, the nursery of all that is benevolent in feeling, and holy in purpose, and sublime in action—a name of hope aud of promise to the world. Others of our number will enter the "Great Val¬ ley"—that beautiful expanse, beaming with one broad smile to heaven. To assist in training its infant nation, whose giant tread will soon resound through the halls of the Capitol, will be our arduous and responsible duty. And a gracious Providence shall we account it, which stations us amid those teeming millions, with an instrumentality so direct and powerful on the destinies of our own land, and through her on the world's des¬ tiny. Nor will those of us, who by self-banishment may be guilty of a seeming parodox, be denied interest and co-operation in the cause of country. As the familiar and loved objects of our native land are receding; when its last blue line shall have faded forever from the view—in the silent passage, on the distant strand, in lonely wanderings and amid the peopled solitude; in success or defeat, in sorrow and in joy, the heart will point with unerring polarity to the country of its birth. Her fair form, enshrined in its affections like the image of the departed, will be a constant memento of duty ; and while honouring her institutions by trans- plantiug them beneath a foreign sky, will prompt the endeavour to rouse herself to high thoughts and wor¬ thy deeds. And thus, in our several spheres faithful to this relation, when the lines of country shall have been merged and forgotten, we may indulge the hope of participating in tho dulie3 and privileges of celes¬ tial citizenship. TRAVELS IN THE WESTERN CAUCASUS, dec. By Edmund Spencer, Esq. 2 vols. Colburn. In these volumes Mr. Spencer continues the narra¬ tive of his former work on Circassia, and adds an ac¬ count of his tour homewards, through some of the Turkish and Austrian provinces, which are rarely vis¬ ited by travellers. The interest attached to the strug¬ gle between the mountaineers of the Caucasus and the gigantic power of Russia, has not yet abated. Russia has prepared to put forth all her strength to crush the jndeoondence of the Circassian tribes; and while the issue is yet uncertain, «« ^v,»i mnuxaily curious to learn every circumstance which may illustrate the na¬ ture of the war, and the character of the combatants. Mr. Spencer was present at one of the scenes so fre¬ quently repeated in this war—the advance of a Rus¬ sian detachment, its apparent certainty of success, its entanglement in a defile, and its fatal defeat. The news of the invaders' approach was brought in the midst of festivities: "It seemed as if amusement were the only occupa¬ tion—as if the campaign were already concluded, at least for this year. How delusive was the calm ! In the midst of this apparent security, all at once numer¬ ous lights gleamed through the dense foliage on the mountain-top with a fiery redness (prophetic of the ap¬ proaching struggle) which was soon followed by a crash of cannon fearfully reverberating from valley to mountain, from glen to hill. ' Urus! Urus !—the Russians! tho Russians!' burst at onco from the im¬ mense multitude; and in a few minutes several scouls, on their foaming steeds, galloped down the dizzy height. The Circassians, without waiting to hold a council of war, instantly galloped forth to the assist¬ ance of their comrades—some to the valley of the Ze¬ roes, and others to the pass of the Bakan, where it was ascertained that the combat had commenced, leaving, however, a strong body of veterans to guard every ap¬ proach to their villages, in case of surprise." The Seraskier placed the Circassians in ambush along the gorge through which the main body of the Russians was likely to pass; and tho author gives a picturesque account of the strength of his position : "About day-break the silence was interrupted for a few minutes by the arrival of the scouts, as they burst through the almost impenetrable thickets, with the in¬ telligence that the enemy were already in motion. At this instant the scene was grand and imposing. There was the foaming surge of the mountain stream swelled to a torrent by the late rains—the beetling rocks, in all their varied and grotesque forms—the dark foliage of the gigantic trees—and the summits of the encircling hills crimsoned with the roseate blushes of the rising sun. Nor were the athletic forms of the highlanders, in all their varied and picturesque attitudes, the re¬ turning scouts spurring their horses up the almost per¬ pendicular sides of the terrific glen, less striking aud novel." The Russians, unable to force this position, were driven back with great loss; and their retreat was se¬ verely harassed by the Circassian cavalry. The charge of the Circassians, mounted on their fleet steeds, and armed with the sword and rifle, is almost irresistible: " Unlike Europeans, they never fight in a line, but in bodies of about twenty or thirty at a time—their common practice being to fall unawares upon the ene¬ my, and harass them day and night during their march. After making a charge, they disperse, then rally, and return again to the charge, when their exhausted foe supposes them to have fled ; and as they are certain to kill immediately, or wound mortally, those whom they hit, and never fail to avail themselves of a good posi¬ tion, these circumstances combined with their despe¬ rate bravery and perseverance, render them, perhaps, the most formidable antagonists to bo found in any country." The triumph which awaits the Circassian warriors, at the end of the campaign, is pleasingly exemplified in the reception given to the sons of tho patriarch of Pchad: " When the train of warriors entered the little ter¬ ritory of the prince, they were met by numbers of young women from the neighboring villages and ham¬ lets, who strewed their path with branches of trees and flowers, while the old men and women, in eroups, im¬ plored, with uplifted arms, the blessings of Heaven on tho defenders of their country's independence: at the same time the song of the bhxd and the strain of the minstrel were raised to celebrate their deeds and im¬ precate curses upon their unprincipled invaders, whom they branded with a variety of epithets, which, I trust, for the honor of the Russian Eoldier, were more poetical 4 than true." But bravery in war is not the only honorable charac¬ teristic of this interesting pe-ple: according to Mr. Spencer, they equal the Spartans in their respect for old age, and the Paladins in their courteous behaviour towards women: "The man enfeebled by declining years, instead of becoming an object of scorn and contempt to thought¬ less youth, as is, unhappily, too often seen in Europe, is here respected and venerated by all classes of so¬ ciety. Wherever he moves, the crowd opens a path to his progress; all the little attentions that a kind people are capable of exercising, are certain to bo his. In winter the warmest corner of the fire is assigned; in summer, his cushion is arranged under the shade of the veranda, while the beautiful hands of his lovely daughter are employed in fanning away the insects that might disturb his repose; presents of sweet-meats and all the little delicacies usually given to children in other countries, are bestowed upon him. In short, they act fully up to their own proverb—■ Doubly ac¬ cursed is the man that draweth down upon himself the curse of tho aged.' With regard to the respect paid to women, I have frequently seen the gallant chief of thousands of warriors descend from his charger, and place on it some lonely damsel who might be trudging along through the deep valleys to visit a distant friend, and protect her safely to the next hamlet." The age of chivalry, indeed, seems almost to be re¬ vived in tho meeting between a Barrakai chief and a Karatchai princes, the affianced wife of his brother: " I could not sufficiently admire the courteous bear¬ ing of the fine youth who had been delegated by his brother to conduct his bride to her future home. He leaped from his horse, and, after respectfully saluting her, in a manner that would have done honor to any of the most gallant knights of the middle ages, drew his sword, and proceeded to make a long, and I dare say eloquent, oration; but, as it underwent a double translation, I have no doubt its force and spirit wero proportionately injured. He commenced by praising her beauty, comparing her eyes to diamonds, her cheeks to the roses of Ariano', (Persia") and her form to the graceful antelope. Neither did he forget to eulogiso the virtues and bravery of the bridegroom, his brother —the number of enemies he-had slain in battle, the courage of the hands of warlike clansmen who caiied him lord, the fertility of the country she was to adopt as her own, and the vast flocks and herds of which she was to become the sole mistress. Then turning the point of his sword alternately to the four quarters of the globe, swore he would protect her safely till he could deliver her to his brother, even at the sacrifice of bis life and of the lives of his escort, should it become ne¬ cessary—a declaration responded to by the whole band, with loud acclamations." Like most mountaineers, the Caucasians ore invete¬ rate in their vengeance; and an act of treachery com¬ mitted against them never goes unpunished. This well-known trait in their character has proved of great advantage to them during the present war. When¬ ever the Russians have invaded Turkey or Persia, they have found the Armenians ready to act for them as guides, spies, and agents; and to execute any act of Baacbssy ■ duplicity which their policy required. But notwithstanding the proverbial cupidity of the Ar¬ menians, the Circassians always employ them as their ambassadors to Turkey and Persia, and as guides when they have occasion to pass through the Russian domi¬ nions. The Armenians are faithful from sheer terror, for they know that perfidy would be punished by the extermination of their family, and that no place will shelter them from the revenge of a Circassian : "A catastrophe, exemplifying this feeling, occurred not long since in Constantinople. A Turk betrayed a Circassian knight of the Eastern Caucasus int* the power of the Russian general; and as the bravery of the chief had been very troublesome, he was shot. The Turk escaped, with the reward of his treachery, to Constantinople, where, having changed his name and place of abode, he hop»d to enjoy his ill-gotten wealth in security; but no! One morning, after a few months had elapsed, the dead bodies of himself and family, dreadfully mangled, were found in the atroets of Constantinople, with a Circassian dagger stuck in the throat of the delinquent. Who had done tho deed none could tell, nor in what manner the assassin had escaped; the weapon, however, indicated that in all probability the hand of the avenger had been that of a Caucasian." The change from the mountain to the plain wsa keenly felt by Mr. Spencer, when on his descent from the Caucasus he entered Imcritia, one of the provinces reluctantly subject to Russia. Kuthaissi, the first town on his route, looked fair in the distance: " But on arriving there, the illusion of its beauty en¬ tirely disappeared, for we found nothing but narrow streets and dirty bazaars, nearly blocked up by stalls of every description, from the cobler's and the tinker's to the venders of cashmere shawls and gold embroi¬ dered muslins. In one place, pyramids of corn and fruit were offered for sole—in another, mutton and sturgeon were being sold by greasy-looking fellows to the half-starved, squalid peasants; nor were the weights and scales lees noticeable for their novelty the one being made of wood and ropes, while round stones were employed as a substitute for the others The greater number of the buildings were nothing bet¬ ter than wretched huts, intermingled here with a low shed as a stable for the cattle, and there with a house the painted exterior of which denoted that it had seen better days. The owners of these comfortless habita¬ tions, for the most part miserable in appearance, were either basking in the sun, or squatted, enjoying the tchibouque, under a sort of verandah, the shreds of whose tattered canvas awning waved like dirty ban¬ ners floating in the wind." The condition of the rest of the province was found equally wretched; that of Mingrelia, which possesses greater natural advantages, was still worse. One cir¬ cumstance mentioned by our author tends to prove that, bad a9 was the condition of the Mingrelians un¬ der the Turks and Persians, it was worse under the Russian government: "The rivers of these provinces, abounding as thev do, not only with the finest sturgeon, but witha varietv of smaller fish, open sources of immense wealth in thei fisheries. During the period when they were subject to the rule of Turkey, and caviare was fashionable at Constantinople, and exported by the merchants of that city to every part of Europe, thousands of industrious fishermen were employed; and so numerous were the sturgeon then taken, particularly at the period of their migration, that myriads were accustomed to be thrown into the rivers after being deprived of the roe and the air-bladders. At present there is not a single fishing boat to be seen on the river, and, according"to the ac count of the natives, the fish now proceed higher ud in shoals, when, on arriving in shallow water thev am killed in thousands by the women and children with the blows of staves. l On entering the Turkish territories, Mr. Spencer and his Circassian companions received a gratifvi™ proof of the interest which all the noma*K Rutins! g8 6 bCtWeen the *****r3
Object Description
Title | The Colonization herald and general register |
Replaces | Colonization herald (Philadelphia, Pa. : 1835) ; Colonization herald (Philadelphia, Pa. : 1849) |
Subject | Colonization Pennsylvania Newspapers ; Back to Africa movement Newspapers ; African Americans Colonization Africa Newspapers |
Description | A newspaper of the Pennsylvania and New York Colonization societies, covering immigrant issues, African American affairs, religious tracts and tract societies, and various other issues, such as the Apprentices’ Library company of Philadelphia. Contains advice and informational columns on household affairs and farming. Also reports on the Back to Africa movement and African affairs in other countries, such as Haiti. Published fortnightly at first, then weekly, in 1838, then published monthly in at least January-June 1839, beginning with the New Series, which restarted numbering. Issues from March 14, 1838 to December 26, 1838. |
Place of Publication | Philadelphia, Pa. |
Contributors | Pennsylvania Colonization Society |
Date | 1838-09-19 |
Location Covered | Philadelphia, Pa. ; Philadelphia County (Pa.) |
Type | text |
Digital Format | image/jp2 |
Source | Philadelphia Pa. |
Language | eng |
Rights | https://creativecommons.org/publicdomain/zero/1.0/ |
Contact | For information on source and images, contact the State Library of Pennsylvania, Digital Rights Office, Forum Bldg., 607 South Dr, Harrisburg, PA 17120-0600. Phone: (717) 783-5969 |
Contributing Institution | State Library of Pennsylvania |
Sponsorship | This Digital Object is provided in a collection that is included in POWER Library: Pennsylvania Photos and Documents, which is funded by the Office of Commonwealth Libraries of Pennsylvania/Pennsylvania Department of Education. |
Description
Title | Philadelphia-Phila_Colonization_Record09191838-0149; The Colonization herald and general register |
Replaces | Colonization herald (Philadelphia, Pa. : 1835) ; Colonization herald (Philadelphia, Pa. : 1849) |
Subject | Colonization Pennsylvania Newspapers ; Back to Africa movement Newspapers ; African Americans Colonization Africa Newspapers |
Description | A newspaper of the Pennsylvania and New York Colonization societies, covering immigrant issues, African American affairs, religious tracts and tract societies, and various other issues, such as the Apprentices’ Library company of Philadelphia. Contains advice and informational columns on household affairs and farming. Also reports on the Back to Africa movement and African affairs in other countries, such as Haiti. Published fortnightly at first, then weekly, in 1838, then published monthly in at least January-June 1839, beginning with the New Series, which restarted numbering. Issues from March 14, 1838 to December 26, 1838. |
Contributors | Pennsylvania Colonization Society |
Location Covered | Philadelphia, Pa. ; Philadelphia County (Pa.) |
Type | text |
Digital Format | image/jp2 |
Source | Philadelphia Pa. |
Language | eng |
Rights | https://creativecommons.org/publicdomain/zero/1.0/ |
Contact | For information on source and images, contact the State Library of Pennsylvania, Digital Rights Office, Forum Bldg., 607 South Dr, Harrisburg, PA 17120-0600. Phone: (717) 783-5969 |
Contributing Institution | State Library of Pennsylvania |
Sponsorship | This Digital Object is provided in a collection that is included in POWER Library: Pennsylvania Photos and Documents, which is funded by the Office of Commonwealth Libraries of Pennsylvania/Pennsylvania Department of Education. |
Full Text | Colonic atiott craft AND GENERAL REGISTER. CONDUCTED BY THE PENNSYLVANIA COLONIZATION SOCIETY. WHATSOEVER YE WOULD THAT MEN SHOULD DO TO YOU, DO YE EVEN SO TO THEM. Vol. I.—NEW SERIES. PHILADELPHIA, WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 10, 1838 NO. 38. From the Religious Magazine and Family Miscel¬ lany. THE CHRISTIAN PATRIOT.* Tiic social relations of man are a necessary condi¬ tion of his being, and the basis of obligations which environ him from the commencement until the close of his probation. At its successive stages he is met by the claims of a new economy, introduced to a sphere of new responsibilities and duties, for which the ante¬ cedent state was designed and admirably adapted to prepare him. Of the various characters which ho is thus called to BOSUin, and for which a previous train¬ ing has been provided, that of Me citizen is not the least interesting or important. The origin of his connection with the Etate, and the ground of its obligations, have been to the curious and the wise of every age, themes of ingenious specula¬ tion. A class have resolved it into an original com¬ pact between the governor and the governed, binding their descendants to all ages ; and others, who ascribe its origin to fortuitous circumstances, allow to prescrip¬ tion an authority equally paramount. By some it is considered the result of a voluntary, but irrevocable surrender on the part of each individual of personal right?; of a tacit consent on the part of the governed, by others, to be withdrawn al any moment that conve¬ nience or caprice may dictate ; while others still trace it directly to the divine will, and clothe the functions of the magistracy, however administered, with the permanent sanctions of Heaven. Leaving these theories and conjectures for the amusement or instruction of the philosophers who have raised them, it may be profitable to dwell for a few moments on some of the plain and obvious duties of the civil and social relations as we actually find them. The liability to overlook them in the pursuits of a*i engrossing selfishness, always and every where calls for a suitable exhibition of them. Under a government, iind in times like our own, they need to be presented and urged with tenfold emphasis. The object of human government is to meet a de¬ mand of the divine government. If the connection between the violation of law and its penalty were as immediate as it is sure; if at the guilty instant of transgression the sword of divine justice flashed retri¬ bution in the face of the offender, there would be neither occasion nor room for human laws. But the execution is deferred, and a world is left to the work¬ ings of unrestrained and unmitigated depravity. Amid elements so discordant and centrifugal, civil regula¬ tions are essential, not to the well-being but to the tolerable existence of society. The strong arm of Irgal power must be able to arrest and restrain by ponal inflictions the bold transgressor, whom the hopes and the fears of the future and the infinite cannot reach. Such being the occasion of government, its only legiti¬ mate object is the greatest good of the greatest num¬ ber of its subjects. The man who faithfully labours to secure it, is the true patriot. To Christian Patriotism 1 do not attach a shade of meaning, which dims the lustre of the native feeling. The man ceases not to be a man when he becomes a Christian ; the citizen ceases not to love his country when he begins to love his God. Religion has ap¬ proached bis selfish and baser affections, and transmu¬ ted them into ministers of blessing. The morally wrong it has transformed; the constitutional and na¬ tural it has strengthened, and secures their safe and beneficent exercise, substituting fixed principle for in¬ stinct and impulse. It is then an axiom with him, that in pursuit of the object named he is in every capacity to yield unquali¬ fied allegiance to the Supreme Ruler. An action in¬ consistent with his revealed will, the general good not less than personal safety forbids him to perform. If war bo an infraction of the great law of love, patrio¬ tism commands him to abstain from it. Relations, however interwoven with Hie fabric of society, in their essence sinful and which cannot continue without guilt, he knows cannot find a termination too speedy for na¬ tional safety. The line of rectitude is before him, and though it seemingly cross the path of his country's prosperity, he will not swerve. He is guided by lights which never flicker and cannot mislead, and the cuckoo note of fear doth not alarm him. When the law and the testimony do not decide, he is left to the dictates of an enlightened expediency. Let us now consider some of the duties which de¬ rive an indisputable sanction from one or both of these sources. The end of all is the same that has been stated, but their character is twofold, as they have for their immediate object government itself, or the sub¬ jects of government. The Christian patriot aims to secure for the govern¬ ment of his country, efficiency and success at home, respect and influence abroad. For this purpose he endeavours to place its admin¬ istration in the hands of safe and competent nun— men of religious principle, or in their absence those whose political affinities afford the strongest presump¬ tion of the correctness of their policy. The lists of partisan warfare he does not enter, but his post at the ballot box is never vacant. The turbulence which dis¬ gusts and annoys him, convinces him that his presence is needed to overawe it. Outvoted by venal patriots imported and indigenous, he feels that there is greater j occasion for his name and services, remembering that the history of the republic is interspersed with signal instances of the power of a virtuous minority. He farther upholds government by manifest respect for its officers and obedience to its laws—a practice essential to the stability of a constitution like our own. The despots who can enforce his edicts with the bayo¬ net, may dispense with it. His purposes move steadi¬ ly on lo tiicir consummation amid the deepest execra¬ tions of his subjects. But among ourselves, an unpop¬ ular law is nugatory without it. So important an ele¬ ment of influence has it been regarded, that in other countries the administration of justice is encircled with I factitious splendor. The grades and titles, the badges ! and retinue which impart it, are favourable to a class,' of feelings which have their merits and their uses—j less doubtless than result from our own system. But OOr good sense must compensate for a deficiency which is real; must teach us that an equal, invested with the insignia of power, is no longer an equal; must eradi- j cafe the bitter defamation of public character—that | besetting and fatal sin of the nation—calling to its aid the divine injunction not to speak evil of the ruler. In its ordinary acceptation, the " vox populi vox Dei" is a term of blasphemy ; but in an important sense it is literally true. Whenever the will of the people has deputed to one of their number the administration of a righteous law, authority higher than the popular suf¬ frage enjoins fealty and homage. With personal deference and obedience to govern¬ ment, the Christian citizen unites active co-operation in its maintenance. The ealvation of our country is staked upon the supremacy of her laws. Contingency here is insecurity every where. It is endangered by the prevalence and power of sinful practices, which, * Delivered at the Annual Meeting of the Porter Rhet¬ orical Society, Theo. Seminary, Andover, Sept 183T. from the known impotency of legal enactments to fet¬ ter the progress of moral sentiment, have towered above them, and enlisted their authors in the fool-hardy attempt to gain by violence what is denied by law. There is danger in an opposite direction from the same disposition to sacrifice righteousness on the altar of seeming expediency—in efforts for the extermination of actual evil, danger of countenancing the heresy that the end sanctifies the means. It is a mistake which good men among us have committed, who have found to their sorrow that they have roused a demon which they cannot lay—that the appetite which has been stimulated by a single repast, like the fabled Mi¬ notaur calls for a slated oblation—not the refuse and the base, but the noble and the worthy. The rage of an excited multitude is too awful, too potent to be the agent of a peaceful economy like ours. If it has hurl¬ ed from their deep foundations thrones and dynastiee, if Bnstiles and standing armies have been crushed be¬ fore it, if barricadoes and bolts cannot restrain or with¬ stand its impetuosity, what is to become of your guar¬ antees of parchment, your paper ordinances, your Con¬ stitution and Bill of Rights—a wreath in the grasp of the populace ! Be assured that our patriot will not remotely encourage a despotism, the most irresponsible, wanton and cruel, the most odious and insufferable that ever cursed humanity. I mention a remaining obligation to government which engages his special attention, that of watching its machinery, of insisting that its policy be regulated by principles of immutable rectitude. He recognizes the law of conscience as binding alike on the indivi¬ dual and the community. Penetrated with the con¬ viction that the nation's dignity and welfare are con¬ sulted, not by craft and strat3gem, but by an open and steadfast adherence lo the rules of equity, he will not tolerate a violation of them in her representative. He will call to account for abuse of trust the miscreants who have dishonored her name by shuffling and in¬ trigue, and compel them to give place to men imbued with the true spirit. Let us pass to the consideration of that class of du¬ ties, of which the welfare of the community is still the end, but of which its members and not its rulers car the objects. Aiming at the greatest happiness of all, he uses his influence in an individual and legislative capacity to promote their intellectual, moral and reli¬ gious improvement. Judicious labour hero saves the necessity of much in other departments. The remark would not be so trite if it were not so true, that however self-interest or mutual benefit may for a time cement our govern¬ ment, the intelligence and virtue of the people are its only safeguards. There are too many means of cor¬ ruption within the reach of unprincipled nmbilion, to render our liberties safe in the hands of those who can be seduced by the blandishments of power, or awed by its threats. Hence, appreciating the office of govern¬ ment as a remedial function, he appropriates its revo- nue to the diffusion of useful knowledge. Hence as a private citizen he yields an active support to those voluntary associations' of bencvolonoo, which teach the people the true objects, and train them to right habits of living. He need not be clothed with official patronage. The burden of our country's destiny rests upon men who appear not on the noisy arena, who in secluded and tinhnnoured retreats cherish the true feeling, and regulate the secret springs and sources of healthful influence. The hero of the tented field inflicting on his country's prosperity blows more fatal than on the hostile army, the politician aiming at the mere correc¬ tion of vice, have too long received the meed of praise from communities who forget that its prevention is the nobler duty, and the faithful Sabbath School teacher is a better citizen than either. In pursuit of his object, he guards the liberties of his countrymen against the encroachments of power. The freedom of speech and of the press are his birth¬ right—a citadel which he never surrenders. The in¬ solence of authority which attempts a restriction of this or a similar franchise, will effect its object only by the fetter and the gng. The lictor who is commission¬ ed on such an errand, will need the fasces and the axes. The obligation to defend the rights of others suggests lo him the duty of a temperate, but fearless and manly exercise of his own—a full investigation of all matters which atl'ect the public weal, and the free avowal of his sentiments. It is the glory of our system, when untrammelled, that it leaves him so directly responsi¬ ble to his Maker ; and observing how speedily among us principles are translated into action, he will feel the weight of a no ordinary responsibility. But his judg¬ ment cautiously formed is stable, and his course unde- viating. Not that concessions are never called for, particularly in a republic. Personal feeling may, and often must be surrendered. Clashing interests may, and should be compromised. But a compromise of principle—what is it, but its abandonment and sacrifice? Not by 6uch treachery will he seek to advance the in¬ terests of truth. But while he shields his country's liberty from usur¬ pation, he will be not less anxious lo save it from na¬ tional corruption, whose inroads are insidious, and require it, like the golden fruit, to be watched with sleepless jealousy. He is on the alert to detect the first symptoms of danger, and utters a distinct and timely note of warning. The exposure of faults, though an ungracious duty, he feels to be yet a duty. Among the prognostics which darken our present sky, the spirit of faction would doubtless arrest his attention; which, inconsistent by its definition with the end of government, and deaf to the calls of reason and humanity, tramples on feelings and rights, and hesitates not to enthrone its idol on the ruins of the constitution. Another indication, to him of alarming import, would be the love of gain which has seized the nation—the eager chase of riches. I need but allude to it at a lime when, through the length and breadth of the land, the altars of Mammon are smoking with its victims. From the barren selfishness of this passion he would aim to save us, and would feel himself impelled by no trivial motive, when he saw his fellow-christian, both laymen and clergy, hurried headlong by the rage of speculation; speculation ! the Legion which is rending us. I mention a single omen more, which would both alarm his fears and enlist his services—the existence among us of a domestic institution, inconsistent with the principles of civil liberty and the precepts of the Christian religion. As a patriot and a Christian, he would labour for the removal of a stain, which as an American and a Christian, he could not but feel. I stood on the wharf of a western city, as the boats were leaving, freighted for the southern market. Their upper decks were lined with the subjects of a traffic, which I will not name. They stood in mute and sul¬ len gloom, occasionally softened to an aspect of piteous and forlorn grief, at the sight of a company of their relatives and friends—their wives and husbands, their children and parents, their sisters and brothers—assem- bled on the bank to snatch a parting and final glance. I watched that group, and sure I am that tears and j looks of dumb agony found their way to heaven, with j which tlieyeaw the objects of their love wafted slowly j from their sight, consigned to the living death of a Louisiana, plantation. As I reflected that in the sor¬ row so eloquently depicted on those countenances, I witnessed the yearnings of a natural affection prover¬ bially strong; as I thought of the delicate and endear¬ ing ties so ruthlessly sundered; as I saw the sacred attributes which I had been taught to revsro and love trodden under the heel of insolent despotism, every in¬ stinct of my nature arrayed itself against the perpe¬ trators of this outrage on humanity. I had but too re¬ cently breathed the free air of New England, to re¬ strain the mingof indignant and virtuous hate towards the system, which had conjured up the spectacle be¬ fore me. But it was with humbled and subdued emo¬ tions that I called to mind the image of my country; recollected that under the aegis of her protection this anomaly of evil had flourished in sheltered security; that through so vast a territory overshadowed by her wing, scenes of as tragic interest, of as moving pathos, might be daily witnessed ; might be and were, because in many places the life-blood of a system which allow¬ ed them every where. And to what, let me ask, does the spectacle appeal 1 As he turned from such a scene, not loving his country less, but hating her faults more, would he not devote himself with emphatic earnest¬ ness to the work of redeeming political freedom from glaring inconsistency, the blessings of religion from foul and damning taint, from barbarian rudeness and ferocity the nineteenth century of the Christian era ? As a means of saving both government and people from dangers like these, the Christian citizen aims to present objects worthy of national ambition. The line of a nation's policy is the thread of a nation's des¬ tiny. The genius of our own people has not yet re¬ ceived a decisive bent, and is waiting for a formative agency. Pre-eminence in the arts and sciences, or a literature which should give new Miltons and Shak- speares to a renovated language, would be to many the acme of national renown. Greatness and glory are associated in the minds of others only with the strength of armies and the pride of navies. A less dazzling but to his rye a nobler exhibition, is power dispensing blessings—a nation laying the foundations of its fame in the gratitude and joy of distant ages and climes, and by deeds which keep its functions in healthful activity, expelling that corroding ambition which would destroy its vitals. But the patriot and the Christian shine conspicuously in his steadfast attachment to country, under disap¬ pointment and trial. Gratitude for her cornucopia of blessings is the predominant feeling, and his mind dwells on the objects which enkindle affection and zeal. The motto of patriot statesman of old—never to despair of the Republic—is engraven on his heart. Ho has no sympathy with the men, whose evil fancies are disturbing the peace of the present, and blighting tho hopes of the future, with dark forebodings; who witness in every moment an expiring throe, and revel in scenes of anticipated disaster and infamy. The gift of second vision has not enabled him to look down the vista, and the phantoms of terror whit h throng it do not Imunt l,i«. iU»wghta Ho L-nows th'„- nrinciple3 in the highest degree conservative, often, pernapo «....„. sally, in their practical operation occasion partial and temporary inconvenience, as the tempest which ravages the land and strows the ocean with wrecks, is the min¬ ister of a wholesome provision for the freshness and purity of the atmosphere, and the fertility of nature. If he entertained well-grounded fears, he would cau¬ tiously avoid an expression of them which would only hasten the catastrophe he dreaded. A feeling of sadness, a sense of shame may steal over him as he enters the halls of legislation, and looks at the seats of the Ilainiltons and the Henrys of a former day. The ostracism of party may have banish¬ ed from the nation's councils the men who guided her through trying emergencies; who spake, and the wel¬ kin rang with their plaudits. But, he reflects, they are not lost to their country, and a crisis will prove it. On smooth waters, beneath serene heavens, the vessel may dispense with seamanship in the mariner, or skill at the helm ; but let a storm threaten, and tho instinct of self-preservation will summon to her management the tried crew and the veteran pilot. Wc open tho writings of Fisher Ames, the Edmund Burke of America, with a pensive regret that the even¬ ing of his brilliant life should have been clouded by political despondency. The ascendancy of the demo¬ cratic party is a death-blow to his fond hopes of the republic. The dangers of French Jacobins are gleam¬ ing before his vision. Sick with the eight of corrup¬ tion, chafed and wounded in the contest with evils which he cannot subdue, he retires to brood in bitter¬ ness over the wreck of his earthly schemes, over the deep profligacy and the deeper prospective ruin of his country. Yet he cannot abandon her to her fate, and from his Sibyl retreat scatters to the winds prophetic strains—mournful, but thrilling with such eloquence of expostulation and warning and entreaty, as the world has not since listened to. The apathy of the good stings him with the poignoncy of despair, and he welcomes the messenger of release from a trial, the greatest conceivable. Vainly was this mighty spirit thus sorrowfully wasted. The youthful republic sur¬ vived the fears of her patriot, and promises to outlive them long. Turn we to a model—even Washington. Amid the perplexities of the cabinet, the wiles of faction, the cries and complaints of universal distress; in the din of battle and the confused retreat, behold the patience, the courage, the fortitude, tho serenity of the man. In the moment of deepest gloom, while stout hearts are trembling and 6trong men are bowing before the storm, his voice is heard above the warring elements, in tones which cheer the fainting spirits and rally the broken energies of a disheartened nation. The patriot may despair; the Christian patriot, never. He knows the way to the mercy-seat, and when the heavens are shrouded with the signals of dismay, the power which calmed Gennesareth will again be invoked, the fiat which created light will again be uttered, and the bow of promise shall gild the retiring tempest. As we press forward to assume responsibilities like these, we cannot be too deeply sensible of the delicacy and the magnitude of the trust; treading on no com¬ mon theatre, guardians of no common interest, arbiters of no common destiny. The dwellers on the earth gazed with no ordinary wonder and expectation, when this new sphere was hung in the firmament. Amid worlds and systems time-worn and crazy and lagging, its mighty orbit was spanned, and it rushed on its path¬ way of splendor, a signal to the universe—the admira¬ tion and the joy of all lands. But not alone by its bright example was it to beckon the nations to freedom and to happiness. It started at an era when the true relations of man were beginning to be understood, and his obligations to his fellow and to his Maker acknow¬ ledged and felt And while the nations of the Old World were groaning under a load of ills which centu¬ ries had accumulated and which are crushing them still with mountain weight, our nation, in the freshness and elasticity of youthful vigour, was left unshackled to develope her mighty resources, and free to employ them for the welfare of the race. To aid in securing this glorious original design, is the pleasing and weigh¬ ty service committed to our hands. To those of us who have come up, for the last time, to share the festivities of our Society, the subject ad¬ dresses itself with peculiar interest. We are reminded, gentlemen, as we close a relation of mutual improve¬ ment and endearment, that it is to enter on a broader, that the bond of common country still unites us. The eve of enlistment in the service is a fitting season for self-consecration to its duties. Some of us are to labour in New England, on soil hallowed by the graves of our fathers. It will be to us a delightful office of filial piety, to perpetuate the monuments and tho memory of their worth ; to aim to restore and preserve the simplicity of anc;ent manners, the primitive integrity of New England character; to ward off assaults on her honoured institutions ; to ren¬ der her, what to a great extent she ever has been, the nursery of all that is benevolent in feeling, and holy in purpose, and sublime in action—a name of hope aud of promise to the world. Others of our number will enter the "Great Val¬ ley"—that beautiful expanse, beaming with one broad smile to heaven. To assist in training its infant nation, whose giant tread will soon resound through the halls of the Capitol, will be our arduous and responsible duty. And a gracious Providence shall we account it, which stations us amid those teeming millions, with an instrumentality so direct and powerful on the destinies of our own land, and through her on the world's des¬ tiny. Nor will those of us, who by self-banishment may be guilty of a seeming parodox, be denied interest and co-operation in the cause of country. As the familiar and loved objects of our native land are receding; when its last blue line shall have faded forever from the view—in the silent passage, on the distant strand, in lonely wanderings and amid the peopled solitude; in success or defeat, in sorrow and in joy, the heart will point with unerring polarity to the country of its birth. Her fair form, enshrined in its affections like the image of the departed, will be a constant memento of duty ; and while honouring her institutions by trans- plantiug them beneath a foreign sky, will prompt the endeavour to rouse herself to high thoughts and wor¬ thy deeds. And thus, in our several spheres faithful to this relation, when the lines of country shall have been merged and forgotten, we may indulge the hope of participating in tho dulie3 and privileges of celes¬ tial citizenship. TRAVELS IN THE WESTERN CAUCASUS, dec. By Edmund Spencer, Esq. 2 vols. Colburn. In these volumes Mr. Spencer continues the narra¬ tive of his former work on Circassia, and adds an ac¬ count of his tour homewards, through some of the Turkish and Austrian provinces, which are rarely vis¬ ited by travellers. The interest attached to the strug¬ gle between the mountaineers of the Caucasus and the gigantic power of Russia, has not yet abated. Russia has prepared to put forth all her strength to crush the jndeoondence of the Circassian tribes; and while the issue is yet uncertain, «« ^v,»i mnuxaily curious to learn every circumstance which may illustrate the na¬ ture of the war, and the character of the combatants. Mr. Spencer was present at one of the scenes so fre¬ quently repeated in this war—the advance of a Rus¬ sian detachment, its apparent certainty of success, its entanglement in a defile, and its fatal defeat. The news of the invaders' approach was brought in the midst of festivities: "It seemed as if amusement were the only occupa¬ tion—as if the campaign were already concluded, at least for this year. How delusive was the calm ! In the midst of this apparent security, all at once numer¬ ous lights gleamed through the dense foliage on the mountain-top with a fiery redness (prophetic of the ap¬ proaching struggle) which was soon followed by a crash of cannon fearfully reverberating from valley to mountain, from glen to hill. ' Urus! Urus !—the Russians! tho Russians!' burst at onco from the im¬ mense multitude; and in a few minutes several scouls, on their foaming steeds, galloped down the dizzy height. The Circassians, without waiting to hold a council of war, instantly galloped forth to the assist¬ ance of their comrades—some to the valley of the Ze¬ roes, and others to the pass of the Bakan, where it was ascertained that the combat had commenced, leaving, however, a strong body of veterans to guard every ap¬ proach to their villages, in case of surprise." The Seraskier placed the Circassians in ambush along the gorge through which the main body of the Russians was likely to pass; and tho author gives a picturesque account of the strength of his position : "About day-break the silence was interrupted for a few minutes by the arrival of the scouts, as they burst through the almost impenetrable thickets, with the in¬ telligence that the enemy were already in motion. At this instant the scene was grand and imposing. There was the foaming surge of the mountain stream swelled to a torrent by the late rains—the beetling rocks, in all their varied and grotesque forms—the dark foliage of the gigantic trees—and the summits of the encircling hills crimsoned with the roseate blushes of the rising sun. Nor were the athletic forms of the highlanders, in all their varied and picturesque attitudes, the re¬ turning scouts spurring their horses up the almost per¬ pendicular sides of the terrific glen, less striking aud novel." The Russians, unable to force this position, were driven back with great loss; and their retreat was se¬ verely harassed by the Circassian cavalry. The charge of the Circassians, mounted on their fleet steeds, and armed with the sword and rifle, is almost irresistible: " Unlike Europeans, they never fight in a line, but in bodies of about twenty or thirty at a time—their common practice being to fall unawares upon the ene¬ my, and harass them day and night during their march. After making a charge, they disperse, then rally, and return again to the charge, when their exhausted foe supposes them to have fled ; and as they are certain to kill immediately, or wound mortally, those whom they hit, and never fail to avail themselves of a good posi¬ tion, these circumstances combined with their despe¬ rate bravery and perseverance, render them, perhaps, the most formidable antagonists to bo found in any country." The triumph which awaits the Circassian warriors, at the end of the campaign, is pleasingly exemplified in the reception given to the sons of tho patriarch of Pchad: " When the train of warriors entered the little ter¬ ritory of the prince, they were met by numbers of young women from the neighboring villages and ham¬ lets, who strewed their path with branches of trees and flowers, while the old men and women, in eroups, im¬ plored, with uplifted arms, the blessings of Heaven on tho defenders of their country's independence: at the same time the song of the bhxd and the strain of the minstrel were raised to celebrate their deeds and im¬ precate curses upon their unprincipled invaders, whom they branded with a variety of epithets, which, I trust, for the honor of the Russian Eoldier, were more poetical 4 than true." But bravery in war is not the only honorable charac¬ teristic of this interesting pe-ple: according to Mr. Spencer, they equal the Spartans in their respect for old age, and the Paladins in their courteous behaviour towards women: "The man enfeebled by declining years, instead of becoming an object of scorn and contempt to thought¬ less youth, as is, unhappily, too often seen in Europe, is here respected and venerated by all classes of so¬ ciety. Wherever he moves, the crowd opens a path to his progress; all the little attentions that a kind people are capable of exercising, are certain to bo his. In winter the warmest corner of the fire is assigned; in summer, his cushion is arranged under the shade of the veranda, while the beautiful hands of his lovely daughter are employed in fanning away the insects that might disturb his repose; presents of sweet-meats and all the little delicacies usually given to children in other countries, are bestowed upon him. In short, they act fully up to their own proverb—■ Doubly ac¬ cursed is the man that draweth down upon himself the curse of tho aged.' With regard to the respect paid to women, I have frequently seen the gallant chief of thousands of warriors descend from his charger, and place on it some lonely damsel who might be trudging along through the deep valleys to visit a distant friend, and protect her safely to the next hamlet." The age of chivalry, indeed, seems almost to be re¬ vived in tho meeting between a Barrakai chief and a Karatchai princes, the affianced wife of his brother: " I could not sufficiently admire the courteous bear¬ ing of the fine youth who had been delegated by his brother to conduct his bride to her future home. He leaped from his horse, and, after respectfully saluting her, in a manner that would have done honor to any of the most gallant knights of the middle ages, drew his sword, and proceeded to make a long, and I dare say eloquent, oration; but, as it underwent a double translation, I have no doubt its force and spirit wero proportionately injured. He commenced by praising her beauty, comparing her eyes to diamonds, her cheeks to the roses of Ariano', (Persia") and her form to the graceful antelope. Neither did he forget to eulogiso the virtues and bravery of the bridegroom, his brother —the number of enemies he-had slain in battle, the courage of the hands of warlike clansmen who caiied him lord, the fertility of the country she was to adopt as her own, and the vast flocks and herds of which she was to become the sole mistress. Then turning the point of his sword alternately to the four quarters of the globe, swore he would protect her safely till he could deliver her to his brother, even at the sacrifice of bis life and of the lives of his escort, should it become ne¬ cessary—a declaration responded to by the whole band, with loud acclamations." Like most mountaineers, the Caucasians ore invete¬ rate in their vengeance; and an act of treachery com¬ mitted against them never goes unpunished. This well-known trait in their character has proved of great advantage to them during the present war. When¬ ever the Russians have invaded Turkey or Persia, they have found the Armenians ready to act for them as guides, spies, and agents; and to execute any act of Baacbssy ■ duplicity which their policy required. But notwithstanding the proverbial cupidity of the Ar¬ menians, the Circassians always employ them as their ambassadors to Turkey and Persia, and as guides when they have occasion to pass through the Russian domi¬ nions. The Armenians are faithful from sheer terror, for they know that perfidy would be punished by the extermination of their family, and that no place will shelter them from the revenge of a Circassian : "A catastrophe, exemplifying this feeling, occurred not long since in Constantinople. A Turk betrayed a Circassian knight of the Eastern Caucasus int* the power of the Russian general; and as the bravery of the chief had been very troublesome, he was shot. The Turk escaped, with the reward of his treachery, to Constantinople, where, having changed his name and place of abode, he hop»d to enjoy his ill-gotten wealth in security; but no! One morning, after a few months had elapsed, the dead bodies of himself and family, dreadfully mangled, were found in the atroets of Constantinople, with a Circassian dagger stuck in the throat of the delinquent. Who had done tho deed none could tell, nor in what manner the assassin had escaped; the weapon, however, indicated that in all probability the hand of the avenger had been that of a Caucasian." The change from the mountain to the plain wsa keenly felt by Mr. Spencer, when on his descent from the Caucasus he entered Imcritia, one of the provinces reluctantly subject to Russia. Kuthaissi, the first town on his route, looked fair in the distance: " But on arriving there, the illusion of its beauty en¬ tirely disappeared, for we found nothing but narrow streets and dirty bazaars, nearly blocked up by stalls of every description, from the cobler's and the tinker's to the venders of cashmere shawls and gold embroi¬ dered muslins. In one place, pyramids of corn and fruit were offered for sole—in another, mutton and sturgeon were being sold by greasy-looking fellows to the half-starved, squalid peasants; nor were the weights and scales lees noticeable for their novelty the one being made of wood and ropes, while round stones were employed as a substitute for the others The greater number of the buildings were nothing bet¬ ter than wretched huts, intermingled here with a low shed as a stable for the cattle, and there with a house the painted exterior of which denoted that it had seen better days. The owners of these comfortless habita¬ tions, for the most part miserable in appearance, were either basking in the sun, or squatted, enjoying the tchibouque, under a sort of verandah, the shreds of whose tattered canvas awning waved like dirty ban¬ ners floating in the wind." The condition of the rest of the province was found equally wretched; that of Mingrelia, which possesses greater natural advantages, was still worse. One cir¬ cumstance mentioned by our author tends to prove that, bad a9 was the condition of the Mingrelians un¬ der the Turks and Persians, it was worse under the Russian government: "The rivers of these provinces, abounding as thev do, not only with the finest sturgeon, but witha varietv of smaller fish, open sources of immense wealth in thei fisheries. During the period when they were subject to the rule of Turkey, and caviare was fashionable at Constantinople, and exported by the merchants of that city to every part of Europe, thousands of industrious fishermen were employed; and so numerous were the sturgeon then taken, particularly at the period of their migration, that myriads were accustomed to be thrown into the rivers after being deprived of the roe and the air-bladders. At present there is not a single fishing boat to be seen on the river, and, according"to the ac count of the natives, the fish now proceed higher ud in shoals, when, on arriving in shallow water thev am killed in thousands by the women and children with the blows of staves. l On entering the Turkish territories, Mr. Spencer and his Circassian companions received a gratifvi™ proof of the interest which all the noma*K Rutins! g8 6 bCtWeen the *****r3 |
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