The Weekly Panola Star

It is painful to witness the civil strife that rages in our fair land, from Canada to Mexico. Faction is arrayed against faction, North against South. Men allied in the nation, and when necessary, perjurers of trust and honor are guilty, arraigned and traitors to their country and politics! Jealousy, and their mutual characters painted in black that we cannot but conclude that private and work horses were fitter places for them than high seats in our political synagogues. Men, who but a short time since, stood high for national honor and firm integrity, are drawn forward and minutely analyzed by party quacks, and screened of a varied course of party pandering and back north plotting. If the South do but raise its voice to shout 'justice' It is drowned in the Northern halloo, If the American bugle is but heard for a moment above the confusion, it is immediately answered by a peal of defiance from the Democratic ranks. If one party assert a truth, however palpable, it is immediately damned and denied by the opposing faction. If Andy Johnson rises with his political organ to grind to the tune of Anti Distribution or Alien Suffrage, the American Addle is immediately stewed up in opposition. Abolitionists, Sharpe's rifles, and Southern bowie-knives untrammeled through our Territories, and the next gale that sweeps from Kansas may bring to our ears the clash of resounding arms. To what are we tending? Whither is this ship of State driving? are questions with an echo for the answer. Who is the pilot of our ship? A man accused of being a 'hoary hypocrite,' a pedlar of political emoluments and an enemy to the South. Who are we to look to in this hour of trouble? No Clay, no Webster, stands at the helm of State, dignity and order have fled our Congress halls, Each party in accusing the other of advocating principles treasonable to our republican interests. The echo of the November trumpet had scarcely died away in the distance, before it was discovered that he whom it had heralded into the presidential chair was not exactly the man for the South or the crisis either. Then to what are we tending? If the present commotion continues, if fuel is still to be added to the fire which burns so fiercely now, we are most certainly tending to dismemberment, that fatal rock upon which so many governmental fabricks have struck and broken. What is our position with the North? She is already beginning to despise us. She knows our chance for more slave States is slim. The last southerner has sat his term in the white house. The terrible truth will soon startle the South that she is confined in her present limits. The time is not far distant, if present things are not remedied, when there will be no longer a Union. Oh ye! who are helping with unholy hands to sap the foundations of the temple left us by our fathers. Ye of office seekers and political panderers, who sacrifice the dearest interests of country for private ends, and the wherewith to grease your ambition and pockets; when you succeed in striking the fatal blow upon the tocsin of unionism, if you have conscience you will feel the recoil and know that the bones of Washington, Clay and Webster stir uneasily in their coffins, and like Richard you will be hold the ghosts of patriots whose peace you have murdered, walk before your startled gaze at night in mournful procession. Men may smile and say there is no danger, but there is great danger. In the rapid panorama of the world's existence there never was a government that stood firm when civil strife and intestine warfare was jarring the land, and we have no way of judging the future but by the past. And when we look back to times and things past and behold the thousands of Empires proud Kingdoms and Republics, the ramparts of national pride have been broken down, and whose very names have been blotted from the roll of nations by the iron hand of Civil Discord, count we will find many delineating parallels on our own case, hundreds of immense coalitions produced but few that could be compared to our own. AMERICUS.