Tri-Weekly State Times. (Austin, Tex.), Vol. 1, No. 9, Ed. 1 Saturday, December 3, 1853 Page: 1 of 4
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TRI-WEEKLY STATE TIMES.
CITY OF AUSTIN, TEXAS, SATURDAY DECEMBER 3, 1853.
N O. 9,
i t)n Post Mortem ex-
, read before the Med-
io of Texas, on the
16th altfmo, by JOSOT R. SIMMS,
9K. jDt, of Wtebberville.
With
difficulty
of the
to dilate upon, the only
le where we shall begin.—
s court our se-
of affording the purest
minds hungering after know-
tch delight in exploring those
of nature that are veiled from the eyes
but may always be advanta-
by those who tread in the
ith enlightened reason for
we shall content
before you a general
i, decline and de-
j, preparatory to some
which "we are solicitous^.at
_ _ ^ becomes "Lord of
Creation," by iifc superiority of intellectual
endowment, enters upon the field of his fu-
ture greatness the most feeble and helpless of
all living'beings. He is too delicate ^sus-
tain thé changes of the air he is to breathe;
his hands, those| admirable instruments, the
makers of all other instruments, are useless
and unmanageable.
The capacious head, the future throne of
his intellect, is too heavy to be supported by
his own strength, and his inexpressive eyes
are incapable of being advantageously direct-
towards any object.
Witness the loving and unweaned assidu-
of his tender mother; death would speed-
_ silence his feeble wailings—for the flow-
er of the fields, which blooms but for an
hour, and then withers away, is not more
delicate or susce
is the life of the
ed by maternal
tenance,
cred, from
le of destruction, than
_ infant. But, clasp-
that fountain of sus-
justly be termed sa-
. -q. 5— first and most
link in parental and social feeling,
sin life and warmth; his eyes soon
learn to distinguish objects, his strength is
increased, his senses begin to demand his at-
tention, and that education commences which
is to fit him for assuming his rank among ra-
tional and intelligent iieiagB.
These successive changes very gradually
he requires parental attention and as-
he his - ceased to nestle in
At this period his senses are susceptible and
vigorous j his mijid begins to expand; it is
capable of receiving knowledge, but is not
yetan active instrument.
Memory is now retentive, and predominates
over the other faculties It is the season
when the mind requires most judicious
direction, in order thafe things may be learned
by their right names and in their right pla-
cea; it is the period whet tie dawning intel-
lect demands the most scrupulous superinten-
dence, that the earliest indications of pecu-
liar lúas may be detected, and encouraged or
repressed, as circumstances may require. It
is the tíMáni all others when the most sacred
or as op-
which
.JTr, nomys-
et" correct exam-
states no
teries:
action, word and loo
T— condition of
cence, is the springtide
scenes are invil|ng; e
of gratification to curi
tinual Recession of
one so immediately
whether painful or
ppear; the horn fleet a
not counted, but
j, , r. Of w^,
but forever after tr
like timps of
or adoles-
I ristence. All
ct is a source
The number
ep up a con-
and
other that
ry soon dis-
ith winged
If felt; not
kable con-
jred in the
happiness;
'' — ~T r 1 7
iayB long gone by; as tfce golden age
■ - forever fled.
*0 this period succeeds fhatrof beginning
finty, when the body acquires its full
and the slender and Wtward boy
. Wy changes to the - porous and
man. His piping and j.eb]-" voice,
ag through various irrealities, as-
••is that sonorous strength> of intonation
oil befittine his condition IrKo t-nriiioa
The approach of his sister to the same pe-
riod of existence, i¡? marked by analogous
changes in external appearance, not so strik-
ing for their magnitude aff from their pecu-
liar character. The whole expression is won-
derfully altered; there is a singular addition
of lovliness to features which may have pre-
viously been considered uninteresting, and
even repulsive. The form, the voice and
gestures, all declare that "Nature's last, best
work" has assumed all her charms, and is no
longer to be approached except with that ho-
mage which her lovliness and innocence nev-
er fail to inspire, especially when their natu-
ral power is augmented by that cultivation
of mind which imparts vigor to intelligence,
and ten-fold attraction to beauty.
We next consider our race in their maturi-
ty, or summer. The faculties of the mind
are advancing to their perfect state; judg-
ment, or the power of deducing conclusions
and principles from observation, predomi-
nates over the memory, and the mind is ca-
pable of most intense application to any pur-
suit. This is the season for providing for
the future, and discharging the many debts
we owe to society.
This period endures for a variable lapse of
time, modified by temperance, exercise, cli-
mate and occupation.
Next, autumn comes, the season of the
"sear and yellow leaf." The suppleness and
mobility of the limbs diminish, the senses
are less acute, and the impressions of exter-
nal objects are less remarked. The fibres of
the body grow more rigid, the emotions of the
mind are more calm and uniform; the eye
loses its lustrous keenness of expression;
the skin hangs loosely; the teeth generally
begin to fail, if they have not previously, and
the digestion proportionably declines. The
mind no longer roams abroad with its original
excursiveness, though it is still capable of in-
tense and advantageous application to partic-
ular studies. The power of imagination is in
a great measure lost. Sad experience has
robbed external objects of their illusiveness;
the thoughts come home—it is the age of re-
flection.
The flight of time is also marked by the
change of the finer tone of manhood for an
occasional jarring and dissonant note, and the
head either exhibits the venerable shows of
age, or the hair falls off from the place it has
so long protected and adorned.
At this season we reap the full fruit of our
early labors, and live over again in the per-
sons of our descendants.
It is the period in which we receive the
just tribute of veneration and confidence from
our fellow-men, if we have lived to deserve
it, and are entitled to the respect and confi-
dence of the younger part of mankind, in
exact proportion to the manner in which our
own youth has been spent and -our maturity
improved.
"Last, comes the lean and slippered panta-
loon." The marks of decline and decrepi-
tude become more perceptible.
The teeth are all gone—the jaws approach
each other—the face is sunburnt—the eye
quenched in rheum—the voice feeble, une-
qual and whistling—the sight and hearing
rapidly fail, and the other senses are almost
obliterated. The mind lives not in the pres-
ent—:the memory acts not upon things of the
day. The green hills, the joyous gambols, the
pure friendships of childhood, all thrill through
the heart.
The ancient man sits in the midst of a gen-
eration thrice removed from his own; he ap-
pears insensible to those around him; he is
deaf, and participates not in their joys; he
beholds their sorrows with a cold, unfeeling
eye.
But why d&cs he, at times, convulsively
grasp his staff—and why does an unheeded
tear occasionally trickle down his furrowed
cheek ?
He is looking back beyond the existence of
the present generation; perhaps the image of
her who has slept in the dust for half a cen-
tury—she in whom his youthful heart was
"garnered up,'* appears before his memory as
on«e she bloomed. P^rchanee the mother
who watched or wept over his cradle, and en-
hanced the joyousness of early life, is breath-
ing in his ear; or the bosom friend and com-
panion of his youthful wanderings, smiles up-
on him, with the mirth and ardor he has so
long been a stranger to.
Where are thei/? Another people has
crown to maturity since their graves were
Death is not feared, because to the young it
seems distant and improbable.
In maturity we are more cautious, having
learned something of the true value of life,
and feeling more convincingly the probabili-
ty of loosing it.
But in extreme old age, when all enjoy-
ments are at an end, we cling to the cup to
the last, and drain it to the bitterest dregs—
even then relinquishing it solely from ina-
bility to retain it still longer to our lips.
Yet we are not to suppose that every sear
son of life, except that of extreme decrepi-
tude, has not its peculiar pleasures. Those of
youth and middle-age most of us are acquain-
ted with: Cicero has left a delightful descrip-
tion of those of advanced life, which Erasmus,
a learned a pious Christian, says he could not
at any time read, without having his eyes to
overflow with pleasure.
It is not from man alone that nature exacts
this tribute of decay. If we extend our ob-
servation throughout the universe, we shall
discover analogous changes going on in all
animate and inanimate matter.
There is in all things belonging to our
globe, a perpetual tendency to change of
form, without the distinction or annihilation
of any one principle.
Whenever animation is finally suspended,
the chemical affinities of the mass come into
operation. The forms which lately withstood
all external changes, become affected by the
slight vicissitudes of heat and moisture, and
speedily putrify.
Thus, all things must change, according to
their nature, from the granite mountains to
the mushroom on the dung-hill.
It is the attribute of God alone to be "with-
out variableness or shadow of turning"—to
be immovable, while all else is in unceasing
motion.
Yet, notwithstanding that the-All-wise has
ineffaceably impressed the character of mu-
tability on all matter, human pride and affec-
tion have, in various ages and countries, at-
tempted to give an artificial permanence to
forms, sealed for destruction by the very laws
of their composition.
These laws, irresistible in their operation
and certain in their effects, are infinitely per-
fect and beneficent; for, when life is prolong-
ed to its latest time, they secure the greatest
abstraction of all the senses connecting us
with the external world, and when death en-
sues, cause a speedy removal of materials,
which might prove noxious to other beings.
Seeing, then, that man must die—that the
sentence must be accomplished—"dust thou
art, and unto dust thou shalt return"—what
are we to think of those who ye so restricted
in their modes of thinking, at to feel and ex-
press towards the cultivators of our glorious
science, prejudices worthy of the most un-
enlightened times ?
Well informed upon almost all other sub-
jects, vast numbers of men appear to shun
information upon this; like children, who
shuddering all night at a shadow upon the
wall, fearing to approach it closely, and dis-
pel their idle terrors.
Such persons associate the idea of anato-
my with barbarousness and cruelty.^
They regard the man who strews the plain
With thousands of dead immolated for the
gratification of his ambition, as a hero, wor-
thy of laurels and applause; while they view
the devoted student of our science almost
with disgust, and are ever ready to join in
the clamor against him as a violater of the
repose of the tomb—a disturber of the dead.
Strangest of all, this happens in a christian
land—where devout and faithful ministers of
the gospel are daily engaged in declaring
that the soul is immortal, the body corrupti-
ble and evanescent, and the Creator Omnipo-
tent
The finest sand washed by the surf on the
shore, once formed an integral part of moun-
tains, which might in their day have been
called everlasting, but which nature forbade
to be immutable.
The object which we wish to accomplish is
to dispel the prejudices which now prevail in
this place in regard to the investigation of the
dead body.
All of our great men who have died in the
last year or two (Calhoun, Clay and Webster
among the number) have offered up their bo-
dies to the investigation of science.
We wish to display the curious and won-
derful structure of man; to investigate the
causes of disarray and disease, in order to
minister to the afflicted; it is to examine the
dead before their first great change of form,
in order that we may successfully bind up the
wounds and mitigate the sufferings of the
living.
It is not mere curiosity that leads us to
endure all the privations and unpleasantness
of making such investigations.
We come with the respectful and serious ear-
nestness of men aware of whose presence we
are in; we study the instruments of motion,
that we may prevent it from being suspend-
ed; we associate with death that we may pre-
serve life; we submit to a sad and solitary si-
lence, that we may speak peace and health to
tha diseased; we breathe noisome, sepulchral
vapours, and drive the life-blood from our
pallid cheeks to stagnate round our hearts,
that we may give the only knowledge which
can efficiently aid us in warding off the thou-
sand ills that frail mortality it heir to-
Surely we have enough to endure, we suf-
fer enough in feeling and health, in forego-
ing the enjoyments of social life, and in en-
countering the stupid misrepresentations of
the ignorant; might we not be permitted to
hope that we should escape the prejudices of
tho sewho would fain be estimated enlightened.
The man who devotes himself to a life of
trial and privation for the benefit of his
friends and country, is lauded for his self-de-
denial, his benevolence and patriotism; but
he who transcends the influence of prejudice
and ignorance, who. separates himself from
his fellow-men in order to serve them; who
schools his own feelings to endure what oth-
erwise would be as repughant to him as ta
others ; and submits, without complaint, to
all the accidents connected with a study so
generally misunderstood; instead of being
considered, as he actually is, a beneficiary to
his race, is too often regarded as something
unnatural—insensible to all human emotions,
or worthy of reprehension and injury for the
very conduct which gives him the strongest
claim upon public gratitude and respect.
Enough, we hope, has been said on this
subject, to induce those who are not of the
profession to feel the importance of aiding
U3 in correcting public sentiment, and giving
that freedom to our science which will secure
its benefits to all the world.
FIFTH LfiGISUTItftK.
DEBATES TN THE SENATE.
J. T. FliKVT, Reporter.
Mov. 25, 1853.
The bill to be entitled An act to prevent
vice and immorality on the Sabbath, with
report of committee recommending the pasr
sage of the substitute to the original bill
offered by them, came up under the orders
of the day.
M. McANELLY said that he could not
vote for the bill for various reasons, one was
that he did not see any provision in it for
thfl siiKhntVi nf t.he Jewbut that, the bill
7
would compel him to conform to the chris-
But, as to the repose of the tomb—the dis- tian Sabbath, or be liable to the penalty fix-
have when on committee of the whole, a
right to debate and vote upon questions, and
when the Senate is equally divided to give
the casting vote. In case of the death, res-
ignation,. removal from office, inability or re-
fusal of the Governor to serve, or of his im-
peachment or absence from the State, the
Lieutenant Governor shall exercise the pow
ap
oka. learns
y* • X'VMI 11IUO i WV ~— n —'
ly unma \ exter-j sodded. Their memory is perished, except
now expand. 5f brow be-1 in the aged man, whoee long-dried fountains
more <i ^ph eated I of sensibility gush forth afresh, as su#h recol-
hrm*A. * nn,i 1 lections rise within his mind.
We have thus, in a cursory manner, fol-
lowed man from the cradle to the grave; but
we are well aware that few persons are per-
mitted to experience all the seasons and
changes we have described.
Accident and disease are daily destroying
vast numbers of our race in every stage of ex-
istence ; bidding us to look for more endur-
ing happiness than can be founded on so frail
a tenure as human life.
It is, however, a fact that our fondness for
life increases in exact proportion as it dimin-
ishesdfe/value.
In the early part of our existence, death is
braved add danger courted as if life were of
slieht ¿count, or could not readily be lost.
,es elevated;
in their soekete; _ PHI
uigher, and the passions and wor|ings of his
mind become imprinted on his C< í* n to n n/>o
Tho rosy, unmeaning and frol^
f his visage are gone; his air
and serious. Those who were
him as a Child, experience an ¡
aintin addressing him;- his
'onseioTia «f * nlxnm. wi'thrmt
•«ssions
htful
with
rtBS-
are
T_e able to
™arsed and
.tilo f*A!l_
-Jb his
to him with respect, and
reverence.
--TTX' «asumes his station as a
ember of the great human farad?, respon-
sible ffer his actons §olely to his country and
hiaGod! . P
t - - -- - - ¿ ^
turbance of the dead—it is mockery of com-
mon sense, and totally absurd; it impugns
the verity of the religion we believe most ho-
ly; it is an indignity offered to the character
of the Supreme.
What avails your profound interments—
your six feet of earth, or iron coffins, or lead-
en shrouds?
The moment life departs, every breeze that
blows wafts myriads of insects to the feast;
they deposit their eggs unseen by the friends
who watch at the side of the corpse; com-
mitted with the body to the earth, they are
dormant only till sufficient heat is evolved by
chemical laws to call them into activity; and
then they feed to fatness, and when ready to
assume their perfect shape, work their way to
the surface, and wing their flight to repeat a
similar process upon other dead.
-j £ V
ed in the bill-for a violation. He t thought
that their rights in matters of conscience
ought to be respected, as much as those of
the christain; but the bill so far from res-
pecting the rights of the Jew actually in-
fringed upon them. He said the Jew has
his sabbath, and the Gentile his, and that
the one observes his sabbath quite as consci-
entiously as the other.
MR. GUINN offered an amendment,
providing that the bill should not conflict or
repeal former laws upon the subject of gam-
bling.
Some remarks were made here by Mr.
Hart, after which Mr. Jowers arose to a
point of order.
MR. JOWERS—Mr. President: I would
make a point of order; it is in regard to the
right the present presiding ofHcer (Mr. M
KkitM VK-WW VVMV1 UVUVI* j * O I' VUlVVi • a'X «
Tell us then of the repose of the tomb— D. R. Taylor being in the presidents chair,)
when the bodies we so carefullx depotit in ¡ has of voting at any time, or upon any ques-
earth are not ont only dissolved by the chem- , tion, except in cases where it is a tie, or of ca-
ical affinities of their own elements, but serve j ses when the Senate is setting in committee
as food for myriads of insccts, and are, sooner of the whole. Iam of the opinion
or later, carried abroad upon the four winds
of heaven.
Grant that every precaution be taken, and
that we pile defences around these perishing
relics, heaping brick, or marble, or granite
upon them; it is but deferring the disturb-
ance of their repose a few years longer, until
the monuments themselves perish and are no
from the uninterrupted operation
mnwi
—
those laws
chancre form.
rvimmanH all moltiir tn
•* — ——— — ■ ■ — m ■■ v* nuv *'" vu VMMV
has no right to vote at any other time than
those last named. If the presiding officer
is now Lieutenant Governor, exercising his
functions; it seems to me that he must be
possessed of the same rights and no more,
which the constitution gives that officer in
.regard to voting. lean put no other con-
struction upon the constitution. I will here
read from section 12th, Article 5th of it,
" the Lieutenant Governor shall by virtue of
his office, be president of the Senate, and
eri
Governor, until another be ohosen at the pe-
riodicH election, agüite duly qualified, or un-
til the Governor impéached, absent, or disa-
ble, shall be acquitted, return, or his disabili-
ty be removed." That settles the . question
of the right of the Lieutenant Governor to
vote. J&fow the question isy^4oeg the fwi .
ding officer of this body become Lieutenant
Governor, upon the Lieutenant Governor's
being called upon to act as Governor on ac-
count of a vacancy having occurred in thin
latter office ? It seems to me that the same
section which I have read, puts this last in-
quiry to rest; for it names the contingencies
under'Vhich the Lieutenant Governor shall
exercise the powers and authority appertain-
ing to the office of Governor, under one of
the contingencies therein named, our lieu-,
tenant Governor has become Governor; and
section 13th, of same "Article provides that,
" whenever the government shall be admin-
istered by the Lieutenant Governor, or he
shall be unable to attend as president of the
Senate,' the Senate shall elect one of
their own members as President for the
time being." The section further provide
that under a certain contingency that the
President elected for the time being, 'may
become Governor. Now will it be claimed
that the President of this Senate after be-
coming Governor as above named, still has
a right to vote as when he was a Senator up-
on this floor? I think not. Then what
right by a parity of reasoning, has the Pre-
sident. of this Senate elected for the time
being to vote as a senator after he has bo-
come Lieutenant Governor? Does not the
President of this Senate now occupy the
same position that the Lieutenant Governor
did before being called upon to exercise the
powers and authority appertaining to the ofc
fice of Governor? Is h® not actually Lieu-
tenant Governor? If so, it is clear that he
is not entitled to a vote except in cases of a
tie, or when the Senate is sitting in commit-
tee of the whole.
The President (M. D. K, Taylor,) here
called Mr. Hart to the chair, and remarked
that he would not have taken the position so
kindly tendered to him by his fellow Sena-
tors, if he had thought Oy accepting it, It
would deprive him of the right of represen-
ting his constituency, nor did he believe thai
a Senator could be found out ef the whole
body who would be willing to accept the
same position under those circumstances-
He had certainly not intended to accept ,of a
position which would disfranchise the peopla
of Cass and ,Titus as far as they had a right
to a vote in the Senate through their repre-
sentative ; he could not have been so recre-
ant to the duty which he owed to his con-
stituents. He thought that he still had the
right to vote upon all questions the same as
other Senators.
MR. SUBLETS—Mr. President:! am
constrained to concur with the gentlemad
from Anderson, in regard to the right which
the presiding officer of this body has to vote
It does seem to me that he has not the right
to vote with other Senators. The Honorable
President has a chance to represent his con-
stituents as much and perhaps more than as
if he were upon this floor. He still has the
right to give the casting vote in cases of a
tie, and in some cases he might by that
means serve his constituents much more ef-
fectually than he could as a Senator. It oc-
curs to me that every senator who may enter-
tain the opinion that he is now Lieutenant
Governor instead of being a Senator; must
also conclude that he has only the same
right to a vote in this body that is given' to a
Lieutenant Governor. I do not rnat-o these
remarks because I would wish to prevent the
Senator from voting; but simply because I
conceived that when his Honor took the chair, '
he was no longer to be a Senator. There is
no doubt upon my mind in regard to this
principle; that when his honor is acting tem-
porarilyTas President of the Senate he has
the right to vote as a Senator; but there is
another principle equally as clear to me, and
that is, that when his Honor ex officio be-
comes acting Lieutenant Governor he is no
longer Senator. Those are plain principles
and must govern us, unless there is some-
thing to be found in the constitution or our
rules to contravene them. Again if those
principles be established by the constitution,
rules of the Senate cannot change them.
MR. KYLE—Mr. President: has
Senate the right to disfranchise any of t
citizens of this State ? I hold that it has not;
yet if President Taylor is not entitled to a
vote as a Senator, it disfranchises a portion
of the citizens of this State.
MR. JOWERS—Mr. President ; I would
be glad to be convinced of the fact that .Mi.
Taylor is still entitled toa rote as a
upon this floor. I did not speak of
ter because I wished to raise a
Senator from Cass has p%*_ ^
by accepting of the office tendered'lmte *,,,1
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Ford, John S. Tri-Weekly State Times. (Austin, Tex.), Vol. 1, No. 9, Ed. 1 Saturday, December 3, 1853, newspaper, December 3, 1853; Austin, Texas. (https://texashistory.unt.edu/ark:/67531/metapth181714/m1/1/: accessed April 26, 2024), University of North Texas Libraries, The Portal to Texas History, https://texashistory.unt.edu; crediting The Dolph Briscoe Center for American History.