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1 On the day before that of the choice of Presidential Electors by the people, the writer met an old friend whom he had not before seen for years, but whom he had formerly known as an ardent and active Whig. Speaking to him of the morrow's contest, in the undoubting confidence of a political compatriot, he was met at first by blank reserve, and then a frank assertion: “I shall not vote this year as I formerly did.” “What does that mean?” “Why, I have been down South since I last saw you, and I don't think Slavery so bad as I once did.” No question of Slavery had ever been broached between us; and there was now no Slavery issue between the great National parties; yet an instinct stronger than logic had taught him that, if he would uphold and maintain Slavery, he must vote the Democratic ticket.
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