In a few minutes the inmates of these wretched brothels were turned into the streets, and the windows of the buildings, and every particle which the buildings contained destroyed, and scattered to the four winds of Heaven.

Here, by the peaceable interference of several citizens, the progress of the mob was arrested (as was supposed, finally); every body, apparently, promised to disperse and go home.

An hour or two afterwards, two or three hundred again collected together, and demolished the windows and all the furniture of six or seven small negro houses of bad character on and near the corner of Columbia and Elm streets, in the part of the town commonly called the Swamp. In the course of this attack a gun was fired from a window of one of the houses, and a young man by the name of Kinsey was severely shot in the hip and leg with large-sized pigeon-shot. The wound, we believe, is not considered very dangerous, though he was perforated with twenty odd shot.

The mob having accomplished all they intended, finally dispersed about three o'clock on Sunday morning.

We hold the opinion that the South should alone have the settlement of questions relative to its own domestic institutions, and that, above all, the question of Slavery within their own limits should be left to the control of the slave-holding States; but we cannot suffer the last resolution of the Cincinnati meeting, and the results which manifestly flowed from its adoption, to pass without expressing our deepest abhorrence of both, as at once disgraceful, tyrannical, and dangerous. A principle has thus been avowed and enforced, which places every one who may chance to utter an unpopular opinion at the mercy of a mob, to be dealt with as its blind fury may dictate. It is formally declared, under the sanction of men whose standing gives them influence, that, if no laws exist controlling the liberty of speech and silencing the press upon certain subjects, which any assemblage of men may think it improper to discuss, riot and violence [why not arson and murder?] form the rightful remedy!

Upon precisely the same principle might a dominant political party destroy the presses of their opponents, tear down their houses, and subject their persons to brutal outrage; and if this tyranny and oppression be submitted to in its incipient stage, men must either become abject slaves, to speak in the "bondsman's bated key," and square their speech to the sentiments of the riotous; or force must be opposed to force, and he whose opinions vary from the orthodox stamp, must stand ready to vindicate his right to express them, by means as violent as those employed to silence him. Who can contemplate such a picture with composure? Yet it is the natural consequence of the supremacy of mob-law, and to this it must come at last, if a firm stand be not taken against its further progress.

From the Philadelphia Herald and Sentinel, 1837.

ALTON MURDER.

THE following is a more particular account of the murder of the Rev. Mr. Lovejoy and Mr. Bishop, at Alton, Illinois-an act which casts a shade of the blackest dye upon our country, and which ought to call forth an

unanimous expression of indignation, sorrow and shame, from the whole people of the United States. Do we live in a country of laws, or do we live among heathens, savages, and murderers? Let us settle this point before we longer boast of our freedom, independence, and libertyliberty of speech and of the press.

From the St. Louis Republican, Nov. 10.

EXCITEMENT AT ALTON.

Copy of a letter from a friend at Alton :

Alton, Wednesday evening, Nov. 8.

THE curse of Abolitionism has again fallen upon our town. Yesterday morning at 4 o'clock, P. M., a fourth abolition press was landed from the Missouri Fulton, and put into Godfrey, Gilman & Co's warehouse. under guard of the friends of Mr. Lovejoy. During the day of yesterday much excitement prevailed, and during the evening many individuals collected with a full determination to destroy it. The warehouse was again guarded by some eighteen or twenty friends of the cause, and when the attack was made, Mr. Lovejoy fired from a window and shot down a Mr. Bishop. The populace, infuriated at this, and not being able to make entrance, set fire to the building. The individual who applied the torch to the roof was about to be fired upon (or was fired upon) by Mr. Lovejoy, when he, Mr. L., received a mortal wound from some one of the assailants. Two others inside received wounds, but not dangerous. The press was then given up and destroyed. To-day, we have peace and quietness, and trust in God that it may continue.

In addition to the foregoing, we learn that the crowd attacked the house of Messrs. Godfrey, Gilman and Co. about eleven o'clock in the night, but finding it defended, they retired. In a short time afterwards the attack was renewed. At each time no violence was manifested, except to demand the press. Those in the house having refused to give up possession, and having expressed their determination to resist, it was resolved by the assailants to set fire to the building. For this purpose a ladder was raised and a fire kindled on the roof. The fire, when first kindled, did not burn freely, and a second person ascended to add fuel to it. While he was in the act of ascending the ladder, the Rev. Mr. Lovejoy came out of the house and stood opposite the S. W. corner of the building. He fired from this position several times at the man ascending, but without effect. A man from behind a pile of lumber on the wharf below fired at Mr. L.; the gun was charged with two balls, both of which entered Mr. L.'s body near or in the chest. Mr. L. dropped the gun he was in the act of firing, ran up into the house: as he reached the clerk's room, fell on the threshold, and expired instantly.

Those in the house now proposed surrendering, if the fire was put out. The crowd without ascended, and carried water in their hats to extinguish the flames. The doors were then thrown open, and as the crowd rushed in, two guns were fired by some of those entering. The ball from one of the guns lodged in the ancle of a Mr. Roff, one of the defenders of the house, and it is yet doubtful whether he will not lose his leg. The other ball lodged in the foot of Mr. Weller. Several other persons

in the house were injured, in attempting to escape. As soon as the crowd had gained possession, they took the press, broke it up into many pieces, and threw it into the river. All then dispersed, and by two in the morning the town was again quiet.

The Mayor, we learn, was on the ground, attempting to arrest the disturbers, but without any effect. He narrowly escaped being wounded or killed, as a ball perforated his hat.

Mr. Lovejoy and Mr. Bishop were both interred yesterday, and every thing seemed to indicate that the storm had subsided. Report states that Mr. L., on the evening preceding his death, had agreed to leave Alton and remove his press, but was dissuaded by Dr. Becher and some others, from doing so, on the ground, that the war had been commenced there, and must be terminated there.

If the press had not been surrendered, a large amount of property must have been destroyed, as the stone-house in which the press was contained more than one hundred thousand dollars' worth of goods, exclusive of the value of the building.

THE ALTON MURDER.

The right of free discussion-Liberty of the press-Obligations of Civil Government-American citizenship-The rights of conscience-The American character-The cause of the slave-The liberty of the North -the rights of man, and the laws of God.

THESE are some of the interests in defence of which the martyred Lovejoy fell. Be it especially remembered that he struggled not for himself alone-not for personal interest-but for the essential principles of civil and moral justice. He began in defence of the violated right of free discussion. This brought the liberty of the press, its organ and bulwark of his own press particularly, with all its objects and interests, into jeopardy. He cast himself on the civil authorities, on the oath administered government of his country, for protection. It would not protect him--it beheld the right of free discussion and the liberty of the press trampled under foot. Did it repair his loss? Not at all. Did it lift its arm in defence of these rights, hurled as they were into the river? By no means. He came forth, then, a helpless American citizen, abandoned by his government, and made his appeal to his fellow men-to Americans, philanthropists, and Christians. That appeal was heard-but again and again the press, that glorious engine of truth and freedom, was destroyed. He rose in the high purpose of a man, a patriot, and a Christian, and resolved on liberty or death. He was forewarned, it is said, of the consequences. He was imprudent, it is said, because he went steadily onward, notwithstanding a perjured government refused to shield him. Imprudent! that's the question! Imprudent! for an American citizen to establish a press ! He brought it upon himself, it is said. How? By fearlessly asserting his own rights-by asserting principles which involved the rights of all men. On this he resolved, and in this he was imprudent, because he might have known that he could not do this without exposing himself to be murdered. We repeat it-that's the question!-a question affecting every freeman that has a sentiment to utter in our whole land. Must

American freemen hold in their words, because they have no law to protect their lives against a band of midnight ruffians? Has this become a question in these United States? Who then shall sleep until it be settled? Lovejoy saw it, felt it, and was prepared for the issue. Undaunted, unflinching, he went on with his glorious work. His home, the castle of his safety, was assaulted-but he turned not back. The affectionate wife of his youth hovered over him in the hour of peril, and beat back his foes with a woman's hand. Devoted wife! heroic woman! glory of her sex! she too deserves the honour of being a martyr—probably she will be, for her strong heart will break down her physical frame. But no matter-such a heart is its own reward. Lovejoy turned not back. He gathered up the falling branches from the tree of American independence, strewed them in his path, and passed on. The right of self-defence, of a husband to defend his wife and his offspring, of a wife to defend a husband with a woman's energy of intense love-all this was periled. The crisis came. The press had arrived, a press which once permitted to speak again, would tell the whole story of his wrong, and thunder with the voice of the jeoparded rights of man. It must not be! The press must again be destroyed. The voice of these vital and essential rights must be hushed. This was all understood.-The authorities of Alton knew it-'the breathing holes of hell' in Alton understood it-the friends of liberty knew it, and were ready. Where was the government? According to the statement of his enemies, his danger was so notorious that it was fool-hardiness for him to persevere. Where were the civil energies of Alton? Where was their regard for American character? Where their regard for the cause of the slave, the liberty of the North, the rights of man, and the laws of God? Where was the Mayor in this hour of peril? According to his own self-condemning evidence, waiting with imbecility or connivance to behold the sacrifice; siding with the assailants, and meanly asking the property to be given up as the only price of peace. But where was the victim ?-where the devoted Lovejoy? In his place, ready to be offered. He stood forth, an American citizen, and in the assertion and exercise of all the great rights of man, he fell a martyr to the liberty of the press, and to the cause of the slave, in the land of the free! Was it for this that Washington, Hancock, Franklin, Jefferson, Adams, Henry and Lafayette (peace to the ashes of the Frenchman! he died in season) toiled and bled? Was it for this that the declaration of independence was signed? and a government organized, which guarantees to every citizen the inalienable rights of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness?

There is one aspect of this affair, which, with all its horrors, is indicative of good. It is a case, which brings out in full life the rights and privileges of an American, all in jeopardy. They are universal rights. Every editor, every minister, every man in all the land is personally interested in it. The great question whether we have a civil government or not is involved in it. It is time for all men who are not prepared to be slaves, to demand whether they can be protected in their lives and property, and domestic enjoyments, and in any of their rights. If the government will not protect our hearths and altars, and our right to breathe and speak, it is no government at all. It loses all claim upon our confidence, obedience, or respect. This will be understood, and we hope that the nation will awake. We believe that the South herself will give many noble responses to the

northern cry; many a minister, many a Christian, many a child of song, many a patriot and philanthropist, will hear in the story of this affair the voice of God," Thy brother's blood crieth unto me from the ground."

The old Puritan principles here shine forth in their unsullied brightness. They exercised their accustomed privilege of furnishing the first martyrs to every noble cause. They have stood, the great bulwarks of civil and religious liberty, and to their action England and America are indebted for their national exaltation. Under their legitimate action, when the Indian was oppressed, Jeremiah Evarts gave the whole strength of his great intellect to their defence. The noble-hearted Butler and Worcester bowed amid the hard service of a southern prison, inflexible, undaunted, morally gigantic. Under their action, Lovejoy wrapped every great truth of human existence around him, and triumphantly died. We wish that after the press had arrived he had made a distinct and formal demand upon the Mayor for protection, that if it were not afforded the impression of his high sacrifice might have been the deeper; but it is easier to sit at home, and calculate afterward how we might have acted had we been in the same circumstances, than it would have been to persevere as faithfully and die as nobly as he did.

Extract from a Letter, dated Philadelphia, Aug. 18, 1835, from David Paul Brown, Attorney-at-Law, to his "Fellow-Citizens," showing cause why his house ought not to be burnt down and himself tarred and feathered, for being an Abolitionist, and more particularly for his having acted as Counsel for the Abolition Society."

"IN my whole life I never was present at more than two meetings of any abolition or anti-slavery society, and one of those was more than ten years ago; to the other society I was invited, but did not belong. The meeting at New York (which at the time was much spoken of by the journals) was of a society with which I had no connexion, and with not one member of which was I personally acquainted. I was appointed, without either solicitation or expectation on my part, to deliver their annual discourse; and it is perhaps worthy of remark (and I am not ashamed to acknowledge it), that the speech then prepared was rejected by them upon the very footing of its having abandoned the doctrine of immediate emancipation, and that they expressly declined recognising it as containing those principles for which they contended. In consenting to deliver it, I never pledged myself to any set of opinions, and really hoped to be productive of some advantage, or of some little reconciliation between the high contending parties of the north and the south. On the evening of the meeting referred to in the paper, I was out of town, and did not return to my home until those who had assembled had separated. Had I returned in time, it is highly probable that I should have attended, as I had been solicited to give my opinion upon the subject in debate, and indeed designed to do so; but I should not have, upon that occasion, as I never have upon any, contributed to produce undue warmth or hostility or feeling (for such I never entertained) against the slave-holding States. At the same time, let it be understood, while I neither am an enthusiast nor incendiary, that I am not to be terrified from the judicious exercise of my rights by the fulminations