II
11
N, Editor.
8. r. ILO,
VOLUME
Islett Vat*.
Tun AROSITZOTI3.
37 33NR7 W. LONQICL.LOW
All are Architects of Fate.
Working in Om walls of Time;
Some with massive deeds and great.
El into with ornaments of rbymo.
Nothing useless is or low;
Each thing in its place is besl.
And what seeing but Idle show:
Strengthens and 'supports the rest
For the structure that we raise,
Time to with material filled;
Our to days and yesterdays
Ate the : blocks with which we build
Truly abet* , and fashion these;
Leave no yawning gaps between;
Think not, because no map sees,
duch things will remain unseen.
In the elder days of Art,
Builders wrought with greatest care
Eseh minute an unseen part;
For the Gods see everywhere.
Lei us do our work as we H, •
Both the unseen and the seen; ••
Make the house where gods may dwell ,
' Beautiut, ent to and clean.
Else our lives are incomplete,
Standing in these walls of Time,
Broken stair ways, where the feet
Sttinible an they seek to climb.
II illd to-day, then strong and sure!,
With a nun aid ample base;
And ascending and securo
Shall to-morrow find its place.
Thus alone can we attain
To those turrets, VI here the eye •
Bees the world as one vast
And one tounttless reach of sky
liilP 31irillnuq.
CANTATRICE,
A TALE OF THE CREVASSE
From the New York Tin.es
Tho coast, as it has always been called since the set
tlement of Louisiana, is that part of the . rich bottom of
the Mississippi which commences with the ' first farm
from tho Beline—say forte mile, below Now Orleans—
and extends above the city one hundred and fifty. This
belt of matchless soil is secured through out', its whole
length by a Levee, or artificial embankment of solid
earth thrown up at immense cost and labor. The Levee
is from six to eight feet high, and sufficiently broad to
furnish a beautiful way, where, in fine weather, the car
riages of the opulent planters may be seen rolling swiftly
along, as if in some gay procession. lyere this protec
tive wall removed, the river, even in ordinary floods,
would cover the coast eve'rywhe re to th depth of from
two to ton feet, while in niany instanc it Would be far
deeper, as the bottom uniformly slopes back, descending
gradually from the batik like a glacis. This alluvial belt,
by common consent deemed the most fertile on the globe,
has long been converted into a girden, white i ll with cot
ton,
green with sugar mind, and gleaming blight with
the golden apples of countless groves of ora n ge. The
Levee is the great chain which has been forged by hu
man art to defend it, nor does that strong defence at all
times avail: for once every year its old enemy', the
mighty river—loath to be robbed 'pl . so fair a pitiy—mus
tors all his forces, and comes roaring, mad with the wrath
of torrents from a hundred mountains, to re-assort his
ancient reign. Ho assaults its chain of bastions with
the thunder of all his waves. If the open attack be re
pelled, he sets to work his insiduous under-mil:rents—a
host of miners hnd eappers—that gnaw away into his
heart. Then, perhaps, suddenly - the wall topples down
—it breech is effected— a crevasse, or •.gap,'' occurs—
and the headlong stream pours through with the hoarse,
triumphant shout of a cataract, bearing a deluge of des
truction to the blossoming fields for two or three hundred
miles below. •
Such calamities have frequently happened, but' the
history of the coast has preserved none more horrible
than that of May, in the present year—submerging, as
it did, a large section of the island of New Orleans, end
menacing the city of the Crescent itself with wreck and
ruin.
It was Sunday, not many years ago, whon a Stranger,
whom wo shall call Peter Ellis, wandered forthlfrom the
St. Charles to witness, with his own eyes, the approach
es of that inundation, which then formed the staple of
discussion among oil classes. He had another i ,object in
strolling from his hotel, at the early hour of eight in the
morning, as will very soon appear. Peter Ellis was about
forty years of age, a noble figure, but proud, gloomy face,
with a fore-head seamed by many and deep wrinkles,
as if Fate had some time dealt him sharp blows, the
wounds of which had healed over, leaving, hoWever, on
his visage those enduring scars. 'His dress Was rich,
after the fashion of the southern aristoirrity, hut worn
negligent, and somewhat soiled with the stains if recent
travel; for ho had, in truth, arrived only the
evening.
The etrangor passed groups of people, gathered on
every corner, all engaged in earnest conversati o n; and
sell here in the streets, as back yonder at the tavern, the
crevasse, the crevasse, spoken in English, French, Span
ishJ Italian, en patois—woe the topic that seemed to 1110.
ttop hr.., every thought. Ho had.almost reached the old
•baai , whore the water was Said to be rising With fearful
rep' ity, when his ears were assailed by an incles i cribable
noise which issued from a point a few rupiare i r to the
left.
"What infernal din is tilati Ie pandenioni
loose?" asked Potor Ellis, interrogatinga litqe
um, who chanced to be gliding by with a d
smirk at his holiday finery, •
"Morisieur is a stranger in the city?!' said the
nun. bowing to the very knees
EEO
"Has hoard of tho Sunday dance on Congo' G,
"Yes."
"Never had the pleasure to see it?"
“Na.,,
"Then Monsieur will be delighted, charmed. se
t e d with the apectacle," exclaimed the volatile
P "''• onillUsiestically; adding, with another deq
"but 1 beg Moneieurea pardon-for the
,remark—l
be careful to respect the Africans. The Green 1 1
to them—is their theatre, I might say—and the
'Tient is under the strict surveillance of the police.
"Does any body:else go there besides
s negroes
quired E.11i.„ abstractedly.
"Oh! yes; every body attends some time or oth ,
the ladies who have had the serious misfortune
their character, go always."
The wrinkles on the brow of Peter l Ills grew black,
as if darkened with the gloom of a thunder cloud. The
tint answer of the Frenchman appeared to call hp the
ghost dime horrid memory that had power to shake
'fary mucole of his frame. and with a scowl at his ea
the 10. 4 interlocutor, he hurried onwards and entered
-C Congo Green. This large, level square.
dozen scree, ituated net fir from
TGIF ,
•.
,
ERIE
,
, ,
. OBSERV ER .
previous
ium let
trench
eliciotts
COI
reef?"
iichim
son of
bow.
o will
belonge
*muse-
MEI
.r. and
o logo
the basin, was set apart by an ord
the Sunday amusements of the A
It is enclosed in strong iron railing
same metal on each of 14e four ai l
with many beautiful trees, acitterel
irregular intervals, which gave it ti
forest rather than a park.
Although it was scarcely nine in the forenoon when
Peter Ellis reached the drain, it w - already quite sup
plied with dancers, and their sport rogreesed with infi
nite spirit. The scene was such as to 'defy all attempts
at description, by either pen or pen il. A huge negro,
taller; and blacker. and'uglier, than any other, in the im
mense concourse, had been chosen general director of
the day. He was called, indifferen tly,
ly, "King of Con
go." or "King of the Wake." and ore on his head, as
a crown, a great pyramid of printed paper boxes, fasten
ed together. which had the effect of nearly doubling his
natural height. This monarch and all his subjects ware
tricked out in a manner so inconcei ably grotesque that
it was impossible to behold them without laughter.—
Hero was one furnished with hoofs There wont an-
other brandishing enormous horns. A third clapped his
wings, crowing like chanticleer. A fourth strutted maj
estically. spreading behind him the !untoa of a peacock;
while a fifth displayed the' tail o a monkey. Their
sable features were decked with all t e colors or the rain•
bow; and their necks, waists, ar s, angles, literally
bristled with innumerable little bell_, diat jingled and
chimed as they moved, like millions of fairy tongues.
The dancers imitated the different cries of every ani
mal described in natural history. TI ey crowded; barked,
bellowed, neighed, hooted, bleated, a milled and howled,
while, without ceasing, the little
,bell jingled and chim
ed. And, as if this deafening din ere not sufficient to
keep pace with theltrlwind of their passionate excite
ment, they called in aid of all soi is of musical and
un-musical instruments. The fiddle uttered its silvery
laugh; the drum thundered; the trumpet roared; the
fife squealed: while the boatman's hagle, like an angel
of gladness, flung its winding notes into the sky; and
still the little bells jingled and chimed. They increased
the clamor by thumping pans, kettles, tubs, and empty
barrels. They shuffled, waltzed, and flew the polka,
but yet, over all the now evolution, the genuine Congo
deuce maintained its undisputed pre-enNence. •
It was the saturnalia of animal passion—the jubilee of
joyous insinct. Every eye gleamed with rapture; every
countenance was radiont with wild light. The whole
burning heaving mass of - vitality was worked up to a
height offeeling, intense as tho emotions of madness.—
Even many of the spectators caught the contageous fury
and joi led in the savage glen; but there was one behold
er that gazed on the scone" with a grim look of tiorror,
as if the happiness of others were a species of implied
insult to him.
"I must have been distracted to think of finding UER
in such a place as this. lam distracted to harbor a hope
of finding her at all!" murmered PeterlEllie to himself,
as he threaded his way, painftilly, thfough the press,
tvhisperii g malisons against Congo Green.
,At length the misanthrope gained the iron gate to
wards the north, and Was in the act of going out, when
a vision of the most extraordinary and dazzling beauty
arrested his attention and chained his very feel to mho
sod. This was a young girl habited in white, with a
crimson zone around her bosom, secured by a massive
cletsp of gold that lay opposite her heart like a star. Her
head was bare, or only covered with its'own veil of ring
lets, softer than silk and black as midnight. Her com
plosion was dark, it is true, but it was the beautiful gold
eu tint loft there by the wind mind the sun beam—this
kissing her with fire, and that cooling the fire-tyith
sighs.
Peter Ellis was so unaccountably fascinated by the
first sight, that he'did not remark for more than a min
ute the companion in attendance on his angel, elf, or
fairy, as his intoxicated fancy had spontaneously named
her the instant her image flashed like lightning into his
soul. At last, however, he w,forced to perceive that
bh o had a companion and such a companion as filled him,
not with jealousy, but with fear!
This was an old m.in, hideously hunch-backed, with
snow-white hair, piercing grey eyes, and a dirty shrivell
ed face that wore the double expression of theft and mur
der. 'He was muttering angry words in a low voice,
while the girl's dark eyes were swimming in tears.
"Oh! spare me that shame!" Ellis heard her entreat,
"for heaven's sake spare me! I cannot go there."
"Do as I bid you,. this moment," replied the old hunch •
back, in a whisper at . otice sharp and hollow as if emit
ting from the burn ing throat of a devil. "Go, or to-night
—," the sentence was completed by ti gesture that
made the very marrow creep in the spectator's bones.
"1 will go," answered the girl, shuddering and tur
ning deadly pale; and she opened the gate, and hurried
on towards the centre of the sable crowd—the old mon
ster following and eyeing her at a distance with his
fiendish smile, while Peter Ellis, in spite of 'is pride
vanity, and the Warning voice of reason, felt himself
borne by an irresirtable impulse in the same direction.
Presently the fascinated man heard, above all the
tempest of tumult;the voice of a singer; but whether
human or angelic he could not decide even in thought
It was loud, sweet singing, and yet mil&and Wondrously
winded, sweeping more octaves than that of the night
ingale, sounding clearer and souring higher than the
sky-larks, while its music was rich and' beautiful as e
dream! , .
The effect on the mad dancers was like magic.—
Horn, drum, bugle and violin, were instantly silent.—
The vast throng swayed to and fro. as "a sea tossed by
the storm, and then gathered in a great circle around the
voice, while one shout shook the Green like thunder—
•"La Cantatricel The singer! The beautiful!"
"It seems she is well known among the Africans of
New Orleans," said Peter Ellis with a shudder. but stilt
ho could not forbear pressing forwards till he gained a
point in the circle of black faces whence he could again
see the denting apparition.
She sang., with the accompaniment of most appropri
ate gestures, a merry bacchanal song, and the !Wooers
cheered wiihshoute of laughter. At a signal from the
old hunch-back, she took up a martial lyric, and every
eye gleamed with the red light of battle. Then she
trilled a mournful dirge—a wail of love and death; and
a thousand ebon cheeks were wet with tears as with
summer rain, while sobs and even shrieks resounded as
at a funeral. In truth, she could not have selected a
more impressible audience;' for the southern negroes
have an insatiable passion for music, and sing them
selves almost continually.
At length she paused, and turning very pale, glanced
beseechingly at the old hunch-beck. who frowned and
waved a fierce iperirius gesture. She then drew from
her bosom a larg open•inouth puree, and passing around
the dusky circle, held out her hand for pennies, which
were showetsd down with extreme liberality. When
she came Hear Ellie. she glanced up in his face with her
wild black eyes. wondering no.doubt at the presence of
one so elegantly attired as he in such ,company. She
started with surprise as he dropped a pica in her palm;
it was a gold eagle.
..Monsieur had made g mistake." she said. in her
soft, silvery tone. holding up the, glittering coin near his
lace.
• "No—keep It." he answered, Ins choking voice, and
she felt another drop in her open paha. She hlushed
ed as scarlet—for the last drop nu a tear of ere•
The girl returned to her station in the human ring.
and again glanced au imploring look at the 'old hunch
back. Ho scowled as before and waived another angry
gesture. She then took from thofolds of her dress two
small gilt cloth:Vs, poised them an instant above her
bead. then whirled them around her with a motion
gracefully rapid as the Bight of wings. starting away in
n dance so airy. buoyant and incredibly swift. ttiat she
actually seemed to float like a sylph lu pure sunshine.
But at that moment an event occurred to interrupt the
general enjoyment. A dull,,booming noise was heard—
the rush of a torrent of water; and a loud scream of terror
arose:— I
"The crevasse! The crevasse! The levee of the
Basin,has broken! We shall all be drowned!"
IMO° of the city for
Hoene exclusively.—
, has a gate of the
es, ana is adorned
Ihere *and there pit
le- appearance of a
The King of Congo tore otr hiccrown. and king and
subjects alike attempted a grand charge towards the gates
The flood came roaring after them, and in i three of four
minutes overspread the green, but, fortunately, as yet
to no considerable debt!).
There were two persons ooly•in the crowd who did
not fly—Peter Ellis and the poor singer. The former
approached the girl with a fooling of strange interest
"Why do you not fly, my pretty one?" he asked.—
"Are you not afraid you will be drowned?" •
Oh! God, I wish that I were!" she rejoined, with a
look of such hopeless sorrow that it thrilled through his
inmost heart in a pang keen as the wound of a dagger.
"Than it seems you do -not like your present pro
feseion?" Ellis inquired. I
"Like it!" the girl exclaimed, in a tone with proved
the very question itself to be torture.
"Why, then do you not leave it?"
•"Itionsieur. I have no other." She uttered the answer
ih a voice indescredibly mournful, folded her hand on her
bosom, and up to heaVen.
"Has no ono proffered assistance to enable you to rise
above your degraded condition?"
'Molly, very many," she replied, sadly.
"Why, then, did you not accept such benevolent aid?"
"Because Monsieur," faltered the girl, blushing deeply
and letting her dark oyes fall to the ground. "1 would
rather suffer his cruel harted than endure their' wicked
lova."
"His hewed? The hunch-back, you mean?"
""Yes."
"Is he not your father?"
"No, Monsieur, he brought me up ever since I was a
little child, but he is not my father."
“Where is the hunch beck now?”
"Gone to his pawn-broker shop, beyond the basin.—
He team it is overflowed."
"Have you no mother?"
"None in this world:" And ogain the darkeyed girl
glanced through her tear towards heavon.
"Do you ramomber your parents!"
"I remember my mother. I have at least a faint
maga of her. She had black eyes, such as mine, and a
smile like an angel, it was so much sweeter than any
'starlight."
Pater Ellis started as if to rush forward and seize iha
gir}but immediately checked himself, murmuring—"No,
it cannot bo!" and prociteded with his interogatione.
"Do you recollect your mother's name!" He put the
question in a tone grasping with dreadful earnestness,-
"No, Monsieur, I knew her only WI mother."
"What is your own name!"
"They now call in. Cantatrice, but my mother did not
so call me."
"What did your molhor call you?"
"Man•."
Peter Ellis started as if Ito had been shot in the heart,
but once more calmed himself and continued—
"Have you any recollection of your father?" • m
"No, Monsieur; but I havo a memory of my home ore
they brought me to the city."
"Can you describo it?" 1
"Oh! yes," she answered, clasping her small hands
tightly across her forehead, as if to press the feeble images
from their old dark niches in the brain. 'Then she
added—'The pictures are dim, Monsieur, very dim and
very beautiful—like deep dreams. There, I see it all
In the sunny air now—the tall white house, with the
stone chimney at each,end--the two great trees in the
yard, with die big red painted gate before them; the blue
lake beyond the gate; I can never forgot it for I slipped
into it once, and was drawn Out half dead, by an old one
eyed nogro.
The face of Peter Ellis was pallid as that of a corpse,
as he put the last question, in a voice hciarse as the rattle
in a dying man's throat:
"Have you any relic—a handerchiaf—a bit of cloth -
ing.--anything left by your mother!" '
. have her miniature, Monsieur."
"Where? Where?"
"Here, in my bosom, close beside my heart.'
"Let me see it!' cried Peter Ellis, leaping forth wild
ly, and grasping the girl by the arm.
She raised the miniaturety the slight silver chain and
held it op befote his gleaming eyes.
"It is she!--it is she!" he shouted,'and then caught
the young , girl to his bosom, murmuring "Mary, oh!
Mary—my daughter!"
Let a half hour of the scene pass. It never should be
profaned by iso poor a pen as mine! And yet I cannot
end without recording one closing incident.
When the find outburst of excitement was ovorthe
glimmering doubt, the sure explanation—the question
solved by the caress, and the gush of feeling that sweet
ened and illuminated everything; when a sacred calm
followed, deep as the sea, stable as the earth, and bright
as the sun; when the arms of the two wero entwined
more gently, as if no longer afraid of losing each other,
then the girl said, in a seraph-like whisper—" Thank
God! I have now two fathers—one here and another
yonder!" and she pointed her Supra to the sky. And
thrice happy are all the poor girls of the great city who
can say as much. But alas: for the many orphans with
out a father,. and a darker woe for the wretches that
show Own no pity!
CURIOSITIMI OT vita EARTH.—At the city , of Modena.
in Italy, and about four miles around it ; wherever it is
dug, whenever the workmen "My: at the distance of
sixty-three feet. they come to a bed of chalk. which they
bore with an augur five feet deep. They them withdraw
from the pit before the augur is removed, and upon its
extraction. the water burst up from the apperature with
great violence, and quickly fills this new made wall,
which continues full, aad Is affected by neither rains nor
droughts. At the depth of fourteen feet are found the
ruins of an ancient city. paved{ Streets, houses, doers,
and pieces of mosaic. Under this is foUnd a soft oozy
earth, made up of vegetables; and at' twenty-aix fpet
deep, large trees entire, such as walnut trees, with the
walnut sticking ou the stem, and their leaves and branch
es in perfect preservation. At twenty-eight feet deep. a
soft chalk is found. mixed with a vast quantity of sheik,
and this bed is eleven feet deep. Under these. vegeta-
Mee are found again with leaves and branches of trees
as before, and thus alternately chalk and vegetable earth,
to the depth of eizty.throo feet: •
/114vx nu rum or.-. The editor of the Syracuse Re"
collie has determined au paying some lady's board—
which is the modern defirdtion of marriages. as soon as he
gets ableas the following will show:
Jupiter! How we do envy our young married Mods.
when we look in the quiet enjoyment of their vat hap
py are-sides. Wield and weathet-vandfundi=lerratit-
Ong, we are bound to get '4utsTicedo f orthvdtti.
SATURDAY MORNING,. SEPTEMBER 1, 1849.
Mr ONWARD .1/3 I
MINIZARIA4I irifnErZINDZINCIE.
GREAT SPEECH OFISIR. COBDEN AT A MEETING HELD
IN THE CITY OF LONDON, ON THE 23d OP JULY
LAST. FOR TILE PURPOSE OF SYMPATHISING WITH
THE NOBLE STRUGGLES OP THE HUNGARIANS.
We could pot give our readers more acceptable read
ing than the speech of WILLIAM CODDILS, the celebrated
English economist.
Portraying. as it does. the true state
of the resources and physical abilities of Rimer's. It will
dissipate the ides, sOprevalent in this cluantry. of the ex
aggerated and stupendous military and financial condi
tion of that empire. l l lThis speech has attracted the notice
of the hired prate of Europe who seek to disparage the
views therein set 60; and l nothing, that has yet been
said in regard to the great Cruz& for liberty in the old
world, has received TOM attention:
Mr. Comm, was received with great cheering. He
said—Mr. Obairmenland gentlemen, I think, after this
demonatration to-lay, no paper will have the audacity to
deny that the inhabitants of this great city are indifferent
to the fete of Hungary, or favorable to the despote who
are trying to fetter her independence. I I appear to-day.
anxious to add my mite of sympathy to that which you
are prepared to exprees for the Interests of Hungary. and
I think it right to explain exactly what my sympathies
are. and what my objOcts are in coming here. If I have
one principle more than another firmly implanted in my
mind, and which I think it is 'for the interest of this
country, and of all other countries, to recognize. it is,
that separate and independent countries should be allow
ed to regulate their own alFeirs in tiler way that seems
best to them, without the interference of any other for
eign'power whatever.; .1 make no exception' to this rule.
I Include in it the right of the Roulette. 1 include within
the benefit of that principle, the poorest, the humblest,
the 11103 t degraded coUununity;fpr it is.no answer to My
principles to tell me, that certain countries are not in a
condition to govern. themselves properly. Tho fact that
a country is unable to govern itself properly, is no reason
why you should go and govern it according to your own
notions to What is proper. I come now to the question
before as,—ithe osttleeki Hungarian independence. If
this had been a quostiOn simply between Hungary and
Austria, would it have bean necessary for us to have ap
peared here to-daff o long as the Hungarians were
left to settle their affairs with the government of Vienna,
they were perfectly clpotont to do it, without the inter
ference of the citizens f London. They have, I believe
twice driven the Austran aimies frern ' their territories,'
and to all intents and urposes, therefore, they stand now /
in the position of an i i dependent nation. Bo far, they
1
have proved their pow Anstria. My bject in coming here to-day is to
r to maintain their independene
against'
si
protest against an arm d intervention, as unjust, as ini
quitous. and as infamous as was ever perpetrated. I
come here to protest eiainst the Russian horde's pour
ing down upon the plains of Hungary. and I do it upon
the principle that I haye already laid down. and as 1
would have protested against England sending an army
to Hungary to fight oni l the other side. I come here to
protest against foreigners being upon the Danube or the
Theism at all. I have seen with some astonishment—for
I was not in my place in the House of Comm -as on Bs
turday, having had a fieree weeks Mvitation to accom
pany your Lord Mayor in a pleasant excursion up the
river—that Lord Palmerston .defended himself against
some ridiculous and unjust attacks made upon him in
the House of Lords, but that in his speech there is not a
word of comment, or at grave rebuke, or the most mod
erate disapprobation expressed upon the conduct of the
Rnssians. But that i the whole question before us—
Russian interference. I have told you that lam not for
allowing the governm e t to aend Englishmen to fight the
battles of Hungary against the Austrians. and I come
hero to protest against Russia going to the assistance of
Austria. We may be asked why we do not follow out
this meeting by some measure for actively aiding the
Hungarians. We corns hero, in the first place. to ex
press our opinions e which will at all events show to the
despots of tlie.north, Mint sofar as the- weight of these
free opinions go. we throw them into the scale. and tell
them that they may, ecloin on our hostility. and let
them not believe those organs of the press who have been
so properly denounced to-day, when they tell them that
nay government in this country can possibly lend its aid
to the cause of despotism. I belong to the peace party.
though I cannot claim for myself the views which my
friend who preceded' ru l e has expressed. I am afraid,
however, if we teat his 'views by the New Testament.
that he is right and I alai wrong: What lam bare to-day
for, is to rouse the feels gad of the peace party In this
country against the eggietutions of Aussie. We may be
asked, bow can you bri g moral force to -bear on these
armed despots? I will ea you. We can stop, the sup
plies. Why, Russia caul carry on two campaigns be
yond her owo frontiers without coming to western Europe
for a loan: She never hiss 'done so. without being either
subsidized by England, ' r borrowing money from Am
sterdam. I tell you I h ve paid a visit there, and I assort
that they cannot carry n two campaigns in Hungary
without either borrowin money in western Europe or
robbing the bank of St. etorsburgh. (A laugh; and a
cry of "question.") That must be a Russian agent or
spy, for this is a questiH. I know that the Russian
party here and abroad, • ould rather that I should send
against them a equadro
non, than that 1 should
to tell yon. I say. then'
loan. In 1829, Russia was
'urkey; but after ono compaign,
(Hope, of Amsterdam, and bor
ftlearry on a war of two years
uption here arose from the name
11 ,4 turit him out" ensued.) Per
/amain% we may be able to eon
s. 1 have told you that in 1829,
trate, and having lost her fleet at
obliged to borrow 40,000,000 flo.
ilia war with Turkey. In 1931.
nsurrection against Russia, if it
intone° of Hope; of Amsterdam,
Russia, could not have carried on that nine months' war.
two campaigns without
engaged in a war with 5
sho was obliged to go till
row 49,001:1.000 florins it
duration. (Some intorrp
voice, and a loud cry oil
haps, if the gentleman
vort him to our principles
Turkey being then pros t i
Navarino, Russia was p)
rine to carry on 'a tivo yel
when the Poles rose in
had not been for the assn
The loan, I understand, was called in England the Pole
murdering loan., Well, now, I want to know, can't we
as a peace party, do something to 'prevent Russia or Aus
tria raising h loan In western Europe again! The whole
contest depends upon th r t. I havo told you they cannot
carry on a war. without either robbing the Bank of St.
Petersburgh or borrowin money abroad, There is no
one in their own country from whom they can borrow;
there Is not a citizen who can lend them a farthing. The
Turners of the ! ankh of Russia exists because their di.
plomatists, who are clever cunning men, invent false
hoods which no one whoi t knows the real condition of the
country would believe for a moment. They tall us that
the Emperor has gold mines in Siberia. from which he
can draw any possible amount of gold, and, that it Is a
story which is beloved °iron by some honorable gentle
menra in Threadneedle si eet. Now. I have been there.
and I know 'what is the Ins ofthsse mines. 'The Rus
sian government does not work those mine! itself. (In
terruption. sod much confusion. with a cry of "turn him
out.") If our friends will only be quiet. it will,ba im.
possible for any 'single iUdividual to make a &Rabin".
I em radon to bring out facia, net ently for the present
meeting, but facts * which will be listenod to far elsewhere.
I wish to straw the monstrous delusion that prevails
airway the people of welter's Europe with regard to the
resources of this power. I Russia does not week• an ounce
of gold hereof?. but receives apex contort upon the worlt 4
' tog of these mines by other/. And the_ratein of this
of cavalry and a battery of Ca-
Ifiro off the facts that I am about
that Russia, cannot carry on
gold is not more profitable than other branches of indus
try. The Bunten government .derives I a revenue of
£700,000 from these mines, while they raise ten times
as much upon the exchoidaties upon spiiits, consumed
by its wretched and degraded population. After the gold
mine delusion is expelled, they tell you thtit the Emperor
of Russia has a great amount of specie in the vaults of
thelortreas of St. Petersburgh l Yes, there is& reserve of
specie in the Bank of St. Po tersburgh; but it Ise reserve of
£14,000,000 to meet a paper circulation of £40.000,000
or £50.000.000; and bear in mind that the present paper
money of Russia was (piled to redeem other paper mo
ney, which had been depreciated one-third, or one-fourth
In value. the government having withdrawn the depre
ciated paper at lOhd, paying oft its notes at 3s. 4d., but
under a solemn pledge that there should be a reserve of
specie in St. Petersburgh to pay these notes on demand,
when they aro presented. Now the diplomatists and
Minions of Ikussia have spread this 'report among the
easy credulous, that because the Bank of Russia has
£15,000,000 of specie on hand, the Russian nation is a
Arealthy one. If it comes to a war, Russia must either
come for a foreign loan, or rob the bank; a nd if the Em
peror takes that money. lie takes what no more belongs
to him, and what he has no more right to take, than if
the Chancellor of the Exchequer came down to Tittead-
Reedte street, and took the reserve oat of the vaults there.
'there are men hero present who know I am speaking
the truth. I know it, because I have been on die spot,
and mud° it my business to understand these things. I i
should never have spoken thus of the poverty of Russia I
if she had not violated a principle which every man who
admires Hungariau fortitude and courage, and feels an
interest in the cause of liberty and patriotism, is bound
to further and uphold. Well, these are my moral means.
by which I Invite the peace party to put down this system
of leaning. Now wilt any one in the city of London dare
to be a party to a loan to Russia, either directly or open 7
ly, or by agency and copartnership with any house in
Amsterdam or Paris? Will any one dare, I say, come
' before the citizens of this free country and avow that he
1 has lent his money for the purpose of cutting the throats
of the innocent people of Hungary? I have heard such
1 a project talked of. But let it only assume a shape, and
1 1 proms() you that we, the pence party, will have such a
meeting as has not yet boon held in London. for the pur
pose of denouncing the blood stained project—for the 1
purpose of pointing the linger ofscorn et the house of the
individuals who would employ their money in such a
manner—for the purpose of fixing an indelible 'stigma of
infamy Upon the men who would lend their money to
such a vile, unchristian and barbarous purpose. That
is My du ral force. As for Austria. no one, I suppose,
would !ever think of lending her money. Why, she has
been a bankrupt twice within the last forty years, and
none her paper money is at a discount of 15 to 16 per cent.
Surely, then, no one woad think of lending her money.
A. the peace party throughout the country. we will raise
a crusade against the credit of every government that Is
carrying on en unholy war. Don't let any one talk of
Russian resources. It is the poorest and most beggarly
country in Europe. It has not not a farthing. Last year
there was au immense deficit in its income as compared
with• its expenditure, and flaring the present financial
year it will be far worse. Russia a strong political pow
er? Why, thereis not so gigantic a political imposture
in all Europe. They talk sometimes as if England and
Englishmen were afraid of Russia, • Now. I wish to dis
abuse all minds respecting my views •on this subject. I
do not come hero to oppose the Russian advance into
Hungary, because I think that in any conceivable turn
of events, Russia ever can be dangeroua l to the existence
or interests of England. If Russia should take a step
that required England or any other great maratinni pow
er like tho United States. to attack that Power. why we
should fall like a thunderbolt upon her. , You won!. 'ti
six months crumple that empire tip. or chive It into i
dreary fastnesses' as i now crumple up this piece of pa
per in my hand, Russia a powerful nation! I will tell
you what she has: She has an army on paper without
commissariat, a navy without sailors, and a military
chest without a farthing in it. Why, gentlemen. how
tong is it since we heard of the Russian invasion of Hun
gary—since we were told that the hoards of Russians
wore coniuk down like an avalanche of men upon the
Hungarians. to exterminate them? It is four months
ago. and where are they now? What progress have
they made! I says nothing of the ultimate conlequences
of the Russian invasion. I - do not shut my eyes to the
peril that awaits the Hungarians. But if Russia hid been
like England, with its resources of wealth, and with the
commissariat such as awaited English 'armies, they
would have gone through Hungary from one end to the
other. Ido not speak of fighting the Hungarians, but
merely of the difficulty of getting through thisl country
for every ono knows that the difi'culty that the Russians
have to encountre is the difficulty of carrying 'supplies.
What stops them is the want of a commissariat, the want
of honesty on the part of those who are intrusted with it,
the difficulty of the roads, and the danger of attack by a
hostile - population, and all this I trace to the undoubted
poverty of the Russian government. The Russian gov
eminent have been for the lest four years or fivo engag
ed in making a railroad from Moscow to St. Petersburgh.
, -
The country is as level as this table. Ido not believe it
'1
is finished at this time, and they wore obliged to go to a
banker's quarterly to got the money to go on l with it.
Russia a strong, a powerful and a rich country ! ' Don't
believe any one who tolls you so in future. Refer them
of me. Now, wo do not come hero to interfere witti for-
oign countries, or to make a crusade against, foreign
finaucee, until they have violated the principles of neu
trality and the rights of independence, in which We claim
to have an interest. Therefore it is that 1 proclaim these
facts, and I dare the Russian agents to contradict them
I sayngain; "atop the supplies," and do so not 'only in
the interest of the Hungarians, but in the interest of the '
Russians themselves. Keep them at home; they have 1
abundant scope for their labor- imtheir own country, in
1 deepaing their rivers, in making railroads, in draining
their morasses, and in elevating the condition of the peo•
pie. This is whaVl want them to do, and not to enter
upon a criminal crusade with an unoffending people, who
aro their neighbors. It is, therefore; in the interests of
civilization, humanity and peace, that' we men t Hero to
day. (Tho honorable member resumed his seat amid
prolonged cheering.
REPUBLICANISM.—Not many years since, in al hand
some mansion not a thousand miles from Cincinnati, it
young lady. who has "high notions" of what constitutes
respectability, expressed astonishment to her mother that
a young lady of their acquaintance, of considerable
wealth. should receive the attentionsir a young carpet':
ter and joiner. I
"lie is an upright and intelligent young man. I can
see no objections," replied the mother. I
"I don't care," returned the daughter, "31 would not
be seen on the street with him."
"Would you, ho ashamed to be seen with your father
on the street?" ionnired the mother. ,
""Why do you ask that. mother'!"
"Because. I can well remember when he pushed a
plane." was the mother's reply. She had her theta._
The **Plosions of Elope? a= be found ha Aopioso that
yeti are not bye minute, too late for tke Con when yea
ibsem you ure. •
27*The wet satterdetory eiridenee of 'u'isates
ty. tivto heir of 'My broiling into • larryoi's o
plunder.
$1 50 ;TZIA . II, in Advance.
THE T
A company et New York having taken the initiatory
steps towards uniting the Atlantic and Pacific by canali
sation. via the river San Juan and Lake of Nicaragua.
the British Consul at New York has given them notice
that his government claims. in behalf of the king of
Mosquito, the land granted them by Nicaragua. and also
the navigation of the river. This claim, of coons our
government will take no notice of. The history of this
British claim Is as follows. and is of a piece with British
prasumtion every whore. That govornenont, seeing that
a canal must sooner or later be mad* between the two
oceans, and that San Juan was the proper point it which
to commence the iivot'x, instigated some British mer
chants at Kingston, Jamaica, to fit out an ezpidition to
that coast, to see what could be dono to get possession of
the country. The vessel entered the harbor of San Juan,
and in a fow days inveigled some of the stupid negroes
and Indians on board, under promise of a few pounds of
glass beads and a blow-out on grog. Ous of this cam
patty. a big, burly negro, being apparently more stupid
then any of his companions, was told by the merchants
that ho must set himself up as king of the Mosquitoes.
and claim the sovereignty of a part of the State of Ni
caragua. They put a pair of red troweers on him.—an
article of wearing apparel that he never dreamed of be.
fore,—gavo him au old coat with a pair of opaulettes, and
placed an Iron keg-hoop upon his hoad,—ubt much re
sembling tho iron crown of Lombardy,—as en insignia
of his authority. They thenre•christened the mud city
of San Juan, calling it Gray Town, promised their ne
gro mosquito plenty of grog if ho would swear to all the
lies they chose to put into his mouth, and set sail for
Kingston, The king of the Mosquitoes can neither
write nor read, nor can he tell his right leg from his left
one, unless he chalks it. Ile don't know who his father
is, acid his father don't know who he is, and don't wish
to. And if the English should try to find him again, of
course they couldn't, for
. his trowsers are all worn out by
this time, and they have no other mark to tell him by.--
This king of the Mosquitoes, soon after this English
hocus-poeusing,considering himself a gallinipper at least
while his rum holds out, undertook to impose uPon soma
American sailors who were boating logwood off to their
vessel.' The captain said nothing for a few days; but
one fine morning, coaxed the king on board his vessel.
under promise of some grog, tied him up in the rigging,
gave him twenty-five lashes, well laid on. and a bit of
advice as to his future course in the treatment of Ameri
can sailors. Such is the great king of the Mosquitoes.
whom the British have set up as Lord Paramount in
Ni
caragua, and through whose authority they claim juris
diction over the territory which the State of Nicaragua
has solemnly guarranteed to a company of Americans.
over which to construct atonal to unite the two oceans.
John Bull is wide awake in looking out for Important
points. He has now got Aden. Gibraltar. and the Ba
hamas. But if he bullies us out of any thing on this
continent. he is smarter then we 'believe him. to be.—
Boston Olire Branch.
CHARACTER
There are weak-minded and feeble-bodied individuals
who are never well, nod who never would be if they
could. The doctor must call, the draught muatbe taken.
and every friend moat tell them on pain of nations dis
pleasure. that they look ill. and roust take great cars of
theme elves.
There are kindhearted souls, who can never be happy
themselves unless they can make others so. Half a detest
such as these in n village, and scores in a town. do more
real good and fling around them more sunshine. than a
hundred merely respectable inhabitants. 0. how I love
to fall in with inch beings.
There are tattling gadabouts, who can no more with
hold from the whole neighborhood anything they may
happen to know or hear, than a cackling hen that has
J k i laid an egg. Be it true or false. let it be good or evil.
theliMry must be told. Sorry 1 ant that the tribe of gad- '
abouts` a numerous one.
There passionate persons , so hot and peppery. so .
1 78
truly combs ble, that a word will throw them in 4 blase.
Whether the offence be small or great..intanded or acci
dental. it is all olia; they are like loaded guns; they gootY
when the least thingtuches the trigger. Of truck a one
as this it cons aptly said;„--
-He carries in'his Nast a spark afire.
That soy' fool niap \ i ‘ an into a name."
There are thoughtful men wir remain at home and
grow wise, and there are though ess wanderers who go '
abroad and comeback ignorant. is not what the eye
sees, but what the mind reflects upon, that supplies us
with wisdom.
Thera oro persons who, acting from audAcn impulse.
make use of such strong expressions upon trilling occa
sions, that they find no suitable words for occur47of
importance. They know nothing of the positive and
compariative, but always make use of the superlative.
\The squeaking of a mouse and the fall of a church spire
would call forth tho same ejaculation. -
There are busybodies whose,own business seems not
to be of hall's° much importance to them as to the occu
pation of them; those sift trifling matters to the bottom;
Make much of little things, and do a plentiful deal of mis
chief to all artound them. but every one dislikes them.
• There narrow-minded mon. oy, and women too, who
have humanity enough to :Abstain from upbraiding tho
receiver of it.
There aro grateful spirits, that, come good or ill. are
always "singing of mercy." To them the heavans 'de
clare the glory of God, and the earth is fall of the good
ness of the Lord. A spirit, of this kind is worth a sea
fall of sapphires."—Old Humphreys.
ARGUMENT AGAINST EARLY MARRIAGES
A writer in the National Intelligences notice, a com
munication from the Richmond Republican, signed "W.
W. Y." in which early marriages wore advocated. and
presents "the other side of the picture," as followa:=--
"Says W. W. Y., *All know, or should know. the
opinion of the good and wise Franklin neon this subject.
who was a warn, advocate in its favor.' Perhaps Frank
lin wus Philosophically right in his opinion, but facts go
to prove that he was practically wrong. For instance.
gentlemen 'all know, or should know,' that the children
of very young parents are generally deficient In strength
of body and mind, and commonly die young. 'All
know or should know,' that Franklin was the fifteenth
child of his father, and the eighth of his mother; and
more st ill, he was the youngest child for fee successive
gencrarions on his mothers side, from whom, more than'
his father, lie inherited his eminent talent,. Fill. For.
and Burke, were each the youngest child of their re
spective families. Daniel Webster is the youngest by a
second marriage; so also was Lord Bacon, whose father
was fifty. and his mother •thirty-two years of age at his
birth. Judge Story's mother was forty-four at his birth;
Benjamin West was the tenth child of his parents; and
Dr. Doddridge wail tho twentieth child by one father and
mother. It is a proverb that *the yongest children are
the smartest.' And why? evidently because the parents
are mature in mind and body, and consequently transmit
a higher order and mentality to their oSpriag. Dam
the intelligent farmer expect a healthy and luxuriant crop
when he seeds with dwarfish green corn or unripe pate.
toes? And why not bring In requisition as much Wenn.
and common sense to prepogate 'the human form
as 'potatoes and cabbage?' Grant that sae mantagaa
would obrists,lntnch of the vice and nee which
is new almost unavoidable.' is not the e l eiegy worse
than the disease if It be the means of bringing fete ex•
Wanes a race of puny. ill-formed children. a majority of
whom die before they arrive at matnrityf Uot the evil
does not end here. Those who do live transmit their
mushroom, constitution to their offspring. and thus-most
effectually are the 'Migration of *slathers viiitinf efeir
the children.' "
ani•
to for
E
NUMBER 16.
0 OCEANS