Crawfordsville Review, Crawfordsville, Montgomery County, 11 April 1857 — Page 1

VIE.

rtETTVLYSIC.

AHCIZNT TPAMSN.

Swot forTsfsBing tiGee, Minguillo, liy mother scolds nie all the &*7> Let mt itve St qnickly, darling,

Givi me tack my ki*«,1pr«y-

Tf w» have demo aught amimi, Let'* tindo it while w« may QnicWy give roe bock tho kin,

Thatate in ay have naught to say.

Do, she makes so great a pother,—: .V Chides so sharply, looks so grave. Do, my lovo, to please my mother,

Give me back the kiss I gave.

Ont upon yon, false Minguillo I One you give, but two you take Give me back tho one,' my darling,

Give it for my mother's sake.

From the German. MOUNTAIN SONG.-,'

«T W. W. CALDWELL.

Su, with what purple splendor The new-blown heather shows 1 Fair as'the blush no tender .. I That on the bride's cheek glows.

on an on el 1

No voico the.silcnco stirs Movcth »iiwhit«cloud only,

—Over tlio somber firs.

JJow, in tho footpath yondor A shepherd boy glides slow, And still, the fir boughs undet,

I

Hit

and gaze below.

"tV fragrant wreath I wind mo, •Of mountain blossoms gay— O, might I find thee, find thee 1

But thou art far rnvnv.

P«tnam, for March, says tliat the

three great questions now distressing the scientific world are", whether two messages, •delivered simultaneously at cach end of tho oceanic telegraph, would meet and annihilate cach other, or would dodge each other, or rebound and return cach to its own office"? On this point Putnam says: it It is a well established fact, that when wo travel castwardly to the antipodes, wc lose twelve hours, and wheu westwardly, •we gain twelve hours, therefore, if two messages were sent at o'clock

A. M.

from

the Merchants' Exchange, New York, to tho Merchants' Exchange, Kongtchcou, in Chiua, by opposition lines, one running east and the other west, whether the one by the western line would not reach Kongtchcou twenty-four hours before the eastern one? If a merchant in,Kongtchcou should telegraph to a stock broker in New York, "Buy mo a thousand shares Nicaragua tomorrow," what would "to-morrow" mean, it" the dispatch reached this city the day before it was sent?

A spirit rapper named Ilumc is

causing a sensation in Paris, by the introduction into the palaces tlicrcoF tab!c-tip-ping antics, and other phenomena of the kind, with which the American transccndcntalists arc familiar. Some time since lie performed at the Tuileries before the Kmperor and Empress, and a scientific gentleman, who has conversed with the Emperor upon the subject, says: ^,

His Majesty speaks of the whole as something grave and important and adds that if there be some phenomena in all this for which he can conceive a cause, there arc others for which he cannot by any possibility account The Emperor told this gentleman before twenty people at the Tuileries, that Mr. Hume had caused a liand-bcll to cross a table, rise up several inches from the table, and ring in the air. He added that he had, standing alone with Mr. Hume beside a large, heavy table, seen the table rise from the floor. The Emperor (and Empress also) added to these many facts of the same order, all equally strange and, above all, they seem to speak with some repugnance of a hand which they both admit to have touched, and which jras that of a corpse!"

CHIEF JUSTICE TANEY nnd SLAVERY. However opinions may vary as to' the recent decisions of tho Supreme Court in the Dred Scott ease, there can be but one view of the wholesale abuse heaped upon Chief Justice Taney personally by the Republican prints. The Cincinnati Enquirer answers the charge that Mr. Taney ia a large slaveholder, as follows:

Let the decision speak for itself but Mr. Taney, personally, is opposed to slavery, in principle and practice. Forty years ago, although never wealthy, he freed every negro in his possession, and has paid servants wages ever since. They were all valuable, and one, his body servant, has been the head waiter of the largest hotel in Baltimore for many years.

Judge Taney has always been the truest friend of tke black man, and it is related by a cotemporary that the most eloquent speech he ever made was at the Frederick county Bar, in defence of a little negro girl, in which he thrilled his auditors by exalting the happy construction of our courts and the justice of our laws in allowing the business of the circuit to be stop-

Eer

ed, in order to give that poor little negro right* and her Jawful protection. And although the little creature had most likeIv committed crime, Mr. Taney's eloquent appeal rescued her from the vengeance of the law.. Thus have all his acts, public and private, been characterised by justice and generosity. .,

TB*'MEXICAN AND CUBAN QUESTION.— Washington correspondent of the Baltimore Sun writes that "the Hispan Mexican question is soon to command the attention of the Government and people of the coutttry "It may. be involved with the Cuban loVstlon, producing of things hi which the

Ostend^oKcj-may

be brought

into practical operation.. There are rumors ift connection With tbfe topic concerning flg1 iptffliitmmhi to be made afcdlwfiW. Another attempt to «ny erenf, §T*ad* beftwtrtc|f

PECULIAR HABITS OF DISTINGUISHED AUTHORS.

Among the curious facts which we find in perusing the biographies of great men, are the circumstances connected with the composition of the works which have made them immortal.

For instance, Bossuet composed his grand sermons on his knees Bulwer wrote his first novels in fall dress, scented Milton, before commencing his great work, invoked the influence of the Holy Spirit, and prayed that his lips might be touched with a live coal from off the altar Chrysostom meditated and studied while contemplating a painting of Saint Paul.

Bacon knelt down before composing his great work, and prayed for light from Heaven. Pope never could compose well without first declaiming for some time at the top of his voica, and thus rousing his nervous system to its fullest activity.

Bcntham composed after playing a prelude on the organ, or while taking his "an-tc-jcntacular" and "post-prandial" walks in his garden—the same, by the way, that Milton occupied. Saint Bernard composed his Meditations amidst the woods he delighted, in nothing so much as the solitude of the dense forest, finding there, he said, something more profound and suggestive than any thing he could find in books. The storm would sometimes fall upon him there, without for a moment interrupting his meditations. Camoens composed his verses with the roar of battle in his ears for the Portugucs poet was a soldier, and A brave one, though a poet.— He composed others of his most beautiful verses, at the time when his .Iudian slav® was begging a subsistence for him in the streets. Tasgo wrote his finest pieces in the lucid intervals of madness. -5:iVV(

Rousseau wrote his works early in the morning Le Sage at mid-day Byron at midnight. Ifardouin rose at four in the morning, and wrote till late at night. Aristotle was a tremendous worker he took little sleep, and was constantly retrenching it. lie had a contrivance by which he awoke early, and to awake was with him to conimcnee work. Demosthenes passed three months in a,cavern by the sea-side, in laboring to overcome the defects of his voice. There he read, studied, and declaimed.

Rabelais composed his Life of Gargantua at, Bellay, in the company of Roman cardinals, and under the eyes of the Bishop of Paris. La Fontaine wrote his fables chiefly under the shade of a tree, and sometimes by the side of Racine and Boileau. Pascal wrote most of his Thoughts on little scraps of paper, at his by-moments. Fcnclon wrote his Telemacfnts in the palace of Versailles, at the court of the Grand Monarquc, when discharging the duties of tutor to the Dauphin. That a book so thoroughly democratic should have issued from such a source, and been written by a priest, may seem surprising. Dc Quesnay first promulgated his notion of universal freedom of person and trade, and of throwing al1 taxes on the land—the germ, perhaps, of the French Revolution—in the boudior of Madame dc Pompadour!

Luther, when studying, always had his dog lying at his feet—a dog he had brought from^Vartburg, and of which he was very fond.' An ivory crucifix stood on the table beforeJiim, and the walls of his study were stuck round with caricatures of the Pope. He worked at his desk for days together without going out but when fatigued, and the ideas began to stagnate in his brain he would take his flute or guitar with him into the porch, and there execute some musical fantasy (for he was a skillful musician), when the ideas would flow upon him again as fresh as flowers after summer's rain. Music was his invariable solace at such times. Indeed Luther did not hesitate to say, that after theology, music was the first of arts. "Music," said he, "is the art of the prophets it is the only other art, which, like theology, can calm the agitation of the soul, and put the devil to flight."— Next to music, if not before it, Luther loved children and flowers. That great gnarled man had a heart as tender as a woman's.

Calvin studied in his bed. Every morning at five or six o'clock, he had books, manuscripts, and papers, carried to him there, and he worked on for hours togeth-

If he had occasion to go out, on his return he undressed and went to bed ^g»jn to continue his studies. In his later yeare he dictated his writings to secretaries.— He rarely corrected anything. The se^ tences issued complete from his mouth. If he felt his facility of composition leaving him, he forthwith quitted his bed, gave up writing and composing, and went about his out-door duties for days, weeks, and months together. But so soon as he felt tbe inspiration fall upon him again, he went back to his bed, and his secretary set to work forthwith. -4^-

Cujas, another learned man, used to study when laid all his length upon the carpet, his face toward the floor, And there he reveled amidst piles of books jrhich accumulated about him. The learned Amyot never studied without the harpsichord beside him and he only quitted the pen to play it. Beritham, also, was extremely fond of the piano-forte, and had one in pearly ••«jy iwpiji his house. ,•! .it*: "J

Bicheliue amused himself in the intervals of his labor, with a squadron of cats, of whom he was very fond. He used to go to bed at eleven at night, and after sleeping three hours, rise and write, dictate or work, till from six to eight o'clock in the morning, when his daily levee was held. This worthy student displayed an extravagance equaling that of Wolsey.— His annual expenditure was some four millions of francs, or about .£170,000 sterling!

How different the fastidious temperance of Milton! He drank water and lived on the humblest fare. In his youth he studied during the greatest part of the night but in his more advanced years he went early to bed—by nine o'clock—rising to his studies at four in summer and five in winter. He studied till mid-day then he took an hour's exercise, and after dinner he sang and played the organ, or listened to others' music. He studied again till six, and from that hour till eight he engaged'in conversation with friends who came lo see him. Then he supped, smoked a pipe of tobacco, drank a glass of water, and \rent to bed. Glorious visions came to hiu in the night, for it was then, while lying on his couch, that he composed in thought the greater part of his sublime poem. Sometimes when the fit of composition came strong upon him, he would summon his daughter to his side, to commit to paper that which he had composed.

Milton was of opinion that tbe verses composed by him between the autumnal and spring equinoxes were always the best, and he was never satisfied with the verses he had written at any other season. Alfieri, on the contrary, said that the equinoctial winds produced a state of almost "complete stupidity" in him. Like the nightingales he could only sing in summer. It was his favorite season.

Pierre Corncillc, in his loftiest flights of imagination, was often brought to a standstill for want of words and rhyme.— Thoughts were seething in his brain, which he vainly tried to reduce to order, and lie would often run to his brother Thomas "for a word." Thomas rarely failed him. Sometimes, in his fits of inspiration, he would bandage his eyes, throw himself on a sofa, and dictate to his wife, who almost worshiped his genius. Thus he would pass whole days, dictating to her his great tragedies his wife scarcely venturing to speak, almost afraid to breathe. Afterward, when a tragedy was finished, he would call in his sister Martha, and submit it to her judgment as Moliere used to consult his old housekeeper about the comedies he had newly written.

Racine composed his versss while walking about, reciting them in aloud voicc.— One day, when thus working at his play of mithridates, in the Tuileries Gardens, a crowd of workmen gathered around him, attracted by his gestures they took him to be a madman about to throw himself into the basin. On his return home from such walks, he would write down scene by scene, at first in prose, and when he had thus written it out, he would exclaim, "My tragedy is done," considering the dressing of the acts up in verse as a very small affair, "v

Magliabccchi, the learned librarian to the Duke of Tuscany, on the contrary, never stirred abroad, but lived amidst books, and almost lived upon books. They were hissed, board, and washing. He passed cight-and-forty years in their midst, only twice in the course of his life venturing beyond the walls of Florence once to go two leagues off, and the other time three and a half leagues, by order of the Grand Duke. He was an extremely frugal man, living upon eggs, bread, and water, in great moderation.

The life of Liebnitz was one of reading, writing, and meditation. That was the secret of his prodigious knowledge. After an attack of gout, he confined himself to a diet of bread and milk. Often he slept in a chair and rarely went to bed till after midnight. Sometimes he was months without quitting his seat, where he slept by night and wrote by day. He had an ulcer in his right leg which prevented his walking about, even had he wished to do so.

The chamber* in which Montesquieu wrote his Spirit of the Laics, is still shown at his old ancestral mansion hung about with its old tapestry, and curtains and the old easy chair in which the philosopher sat is still sacredly preserved there. The chimney-jamb bears the mark of his foot, where he used to rest upon it, his legs crossed, when composing his books. His Persian Letters were composed merely for pastime, and were never intended for publication. The principles of Laws occupied his life.. In the study of these he spent twenty years, losing health and eyesight in the pursuit. As in the case of Milton, his daughter read for him, and acted as his secretary. In his Portrait of himself, he said—"I awake in the morning rejoiced at the sight of day. I see the sun with a kind of ecstasy, and for the rest of the day I am content. I pass the night without waking, and in the evening when I go to bed, a kind of numbness prevents me indulging in reflections. With me, study has been-die sovereign remedy against ,disr gust of life, having never bad any vexation which an hoar's rending has not dissipated.

CRAWFOEDSYILLE, MONTGOMERY COUNTY, INDIANA APRIL 11, 18-57.

But I have the disease of making books, and of being ashamed when I have made them."

Rousseau had the greatest difficulty in composing his works, being extremelyjdefective in the gift of memory. He could never learn six verses by heart. In his Confessions he says—"I studied and meditated in bed, forming sentences with inconceivable difficulty then, when I. thought I had got them into shape, I would rise to put them on paper. But lo! I often entirely forgot them during the process of dressing!" He would then walk abroad to refresh himself by the aspect of nature, and under its influence his

most

successful

writings were composed. He was always leaving books which he carried about with him at the foot of trees, or by the margin of fountains. He sometimes wrote his books over from beginning to end, four or five times, before giving them to the press. Some of his sentences cost him four or five nights' study. He thought with difficulty, and wrote with still greater. It is astonishing that, with such a kind of intellect, he should have been able to do so much.

The summer study of the famous Buffon, at Montbar, is still shown, just as he left it. It is a little room in a pavilion, reached by mounting a ladder, through a green door with two folds. The place looks simplicity itself. The apartment is vaulted like some old chapel, and the walls are "fainted green. The floor is paved with tiles. A writing-table of plain wood stands in the centre, and before it is an easy chair. That is all! Tie place was the summer study of Buffon. In winter, he had a warmer room withia his house, where he wrote his Natural History.— There, on his desk, his pen still lies, and by the side of it, on his easy chair, his red dressing-gown and cap of gray silk. On the wall near to where he sat, hangs an engraved portrait of Newton. There, and in his garden cabinet, he spent many years of his life, studying and writing books.— He studied his work entitled Epoqucs (7c la Nature for fifty years, and wrote it over eighteen times before publishing it! What would our galloping authors say to that?

Bufibn used to work on pages of five distinct columns, like a ledger. In the first column he wrote out the first draught in the scccnd he corrected, added, pruned, and improved thus proceeding until he had reached the fifth column, in which lie finally wrote out the result of his labor.— But this was not all. He would sometimes re-write a sentence twenty times, and was once fourteen hours in finding the proper word for the turning of a period!— Buffon knew nearly all his works by heart.

On the contrary, Cuvier never re-copied what he had once written. He composed with great-rapidity, correctness, and precision. His mind was always in complete order, and his memory was exact and extensive.

Some writers have been prodigiously laborious in the composition of their works. Cassar had, of course, an immense multiplicity of business, as a general, to get through but he had always a secretary by his side, even when op horseback, to whonj he dictated and often he occupied two or three secretaries at once. His famous Commentaries are said to have been composed mostly on horseback.

Seneca was very laborious. "I have not a single idle day," said he, describing his life, "and I give a part of every night to study. I do not give myself up to sleep, but succumb to it. I have separated myself from society, and renounced all the distractions of life." "With many of these old heathens, study was their religion.

Pliny the Elder read two thousand volumes in the composition of his Natural History. How to find time for this He managed it by devoting his days to business and his nights to study. He had books read to hiiji while he was at meals and he read no book without making extracts. His nephew, Pliny the Younger, has given a highly interesting account of the intimate and daily life of his uncle.

Origcn employed seven writers while composing his Commentaries, who committed to paper what he dictated to them by turns. He was so indefatigable in writing that they gave him the name of Brass Boicels! Like Philip de Comines. Sully used to dictate to four secretaries at a time, without difficulty.

Bossuet left fifty volumes of writings behind him, the result of unintermitting labor. The pen rarely quitted his fingers.— Writing became habitual to him, and he even chose it as a relaxation. A nightlamp was constantly lit beside him, and he would rise at all hours to resume his meditations. He rose at about four o'clock in the morning during summer and winter, wrapped himself in his loose dress of bear's skin, and set to work. Be worked on for hours, until he felt fatigued, and then went to bed again, falling asleep at once. This life he led for more than twenty years. As he grew older, and became disabled for hard work, he began translating the Psalms into verse, to pass time. In the intervals of fatigue and pain, he read and corrected his former works. "'.1

Some writers composed with great rapidity, others slowly and with difficulty..—

Byron said of himself, that though he felt Cowper, the poet. Montesquieu and Bendriven to write, and he was in a state of tham were also failures in the same pro torture until he had fairly delivered him self of what he had to say,£yet that writing never gave him any pleasure but was felt to be a severe labor. Scott, on the contrary, possessed the most extraordinary facility and .dashed off a great novel of three volumes in about the same number of weeks. "I have written Catiline in eight days," said Voltaire "and I immediately commenced the Henriade." Voltaire was a most impatient writer, and usually had the first half of a work set up in type Jbefore the second half was written. He always had several works in the course of composition at the same time. His manner of preparing a work was peculiar. He had his first sketch of a tragedy set up in type, and then re-wrote it from the proofs. Balzac adopted the same plan. The printed form enabled them to introduce effects, and correct errors more easily.

Pascal wrote most of his thoughts on little scraps of paper, at his by-moments of leisure. He produced them with immense rapidity. He wrote in a kind of contracted language—like short hand—impossible to read, except by those who had studied it. It resembled t.be im

lt. It resembled impa ICU an cry JJGJON

scratches of Napoleon yet, though halt- pa

formed, the characters have the firmness

il 1 fl

and precision of the graver. Some one ob served to Faguere (Pascal's editor), "This work (deciphering it) must be very fatigu ing to the eyes." "No," said he, "it is not the eyes that are fatigued, so much as the brain."

Many authors have been distinguished for the fastidiousness of their composition •never resting satisfied, but .correcting and re-correcting to the last moment.— Cicero spent his old age in correcting his orations Massillon in polishing his sermons Fenelon corrected his Telemachus seven times over.

Of thirty verses which Virgil wrote in the morning, there were only ten left at night. Milton often cut down forty verses to twenty. Buffon would condense six pages into as many paragraphs. Montaigne, instead of cutting down, amplified and added to his first sketch. Boileau had great difficulty in making his verses. He said—"If I write four words, I erase three of them and at another time—"I sometimes hunt three hours for a rhyme!"

Some authors were never satisfied with their work. Virgil ordered his JEneid to be burnt. Voltaire cast his poem of The League into the fire. Racine and Scott could not bear to read their productions again. Michael Angelo was always dissatisfied he found faults in his greatest and most admired works.

Many of the most admired writings were never intended by their authors for publication. Fenelon, when he wrote Telemachus, had no intention of publishing it. Voltaire's Correspowlencc was never intended for publication, and yet it is perused with avidity whereas his Henriade, so often corrected by him, is scarcely read.— Madame dc Sevigni, in writing to her daughter those fascinating letters descriptive of the life of the French Court, never had any idea of their publication, or that

they would be cited as models of composi-

we have to thank Bozzy.

fession, but mainly through disgust with it. Addison, when a member of the House of Commons, once rose to speak, but he could not overcome his diffidence, and ever after remained silent.

CHRIST NOT A WRITER. One of the most remarkable facts in the hi«t«.7of Christ is, that he left no writing

011

not

tion and style. What work of Johnson's ment in the hearts of the few disciples that is beet known Is it not that by Boswell, followed him-to make them comprehend isDe.iKno«u. 3 it,

which contains the great philosophers

conversation —that which he never in-

tended should come to light, and for which written at all. And on these hearts he did impress himself, and they for the love they bore him, wrote the meagre sketch we have

There is a great difference the sensi-

tiveness of authors to criticism. Sir Walter Scott passed thirteen years without reading what the critics or reviewers said

of his writings while Byron was sensitive j0Scp]J

to an excess about what was said of him.— It was the reviewers who stung him into his first work of genius—English Bards and. Scotch Reviewers. Racine was very sensitive to criticism and poor Keats was "snuffed out by an article." Moliere was thrown into a great rage when his plays were badly acted. One day, after Tartuffe had been played, an actor found him stamping about as if mad, and beating his head, crying—"Ah! dog! Ah! butcher!" On being asked what was the matter, he replied—"Don't be surprised at my emotion! I have just been seeing an actor falsely and execrably declaiming my piece: and I can not see my children maltreated in this horrid way, without suffering the tortures of the damned!" The first time Voltaire's Artemise was played, it was hissed. Voltaire, indignant, sprang to his feet in his box, and addressed the audience! At another time, at Lausanne, where an actress seemed fully to apprehend his meaning, he rushed upon the stage and embraced her knees!

A great deal might be said about the first failures of authors and orators. Demosthenes stammered, and was almost inaudible, when he first tried to speak before Philip. He seemed like a man moribund. Other orators have broken down, like Demosthenes, in their first effort. Curran tried to speak, for the first time, at a meeting of the Irish Historical Society but the works died on his lips, and he sat down amid titters—an~ individual -present characterizing him as orator Mum. Boileaa

of hig Hfe and tcaching8.

behind him, and the only record there is waolf_mi,r.h loss to car-'

bemna mm, ana tne oniy recora mere. herself—much less to car-" of his writing anything is in the case where „lrnr Wr» "b« stooped down and with his fingers wrote »lh°«f

upon the ground." What ho wrote then c»p.tol But wo believe that Spamii sDCfikiu" of the Government—is not tlio and there no one taows iperJiapsi ft. iwt °.cr't]iat

plausible conjccti.ro is that he rotc the F^ diffl.„ltics''.rise from the answer to the question,-whether the women taken in adultery should be stoned? '"He that is without sin among you, let him cast a stone at her." Hearer, did this strange fact ever recur to you that the greatest reformer that ever lived—professedly the divine teacher sent of God to Teveal his truth to the world—whose teachings have survived the wrecks of ages, and now command the credence, the respect and the most profound admiration of the enlightened world and who is claimed as the "author and finisher" of a great system of faith and practice, has left behind him no sentence of his writing of which there is any account1

Is there, or has there ever been, since

viiu mm siuuicu invention of letters, or even rude hierof a in a as re

whose

n8

founder did not take special

to reduce his teachings to writing,

and

thus give them the most exact and

i- permanent form The Brafimins have their Vedas, their Pouranas, their Pamayan,- and their Laws and Institutes of Menu, and these are all written and preserved with the utmost care. The Chinese have their books of

Fohi, their founder, as opened and expounded by their great Confucious. The Persians have their Zendevesta attributed to their leader Zoroaster, containing the doctrinc and laws of their religion. The Jews had their sacred books, and Moses and the prophets, and David and Solomon, put their teachings in writing that they might be preserved.

Plato and Pithagoras, and Cicero and Demosthenes, wrote much. Mahomet wrote the Koran and gave it to the faithful as their guide. The writings of Swedcnborg are voluminous and in our days, even the Mormon impostor wrote his book of Mormon. But here comes one who claims precedence even to Moses and Abraham, and especially claims that a greater than Solomon is in his own person, and announcing himself as a herald of a new dispensation from God, which is to cast Moses and the prophets in the shade, and prevail over all other systems, and subdue our entire race, and yet this great teacher never Wrote a word save only the characters in the sand which the next breath of wind might obliterate. Who can account for this strange procedure? Will it comport at all with the idea that he was an inipos

iviui tne luea mat ue was an uupua- .. ,, tor Did ever an impostor pursue a course Cont.ncnt, she has md.sputablc possessions like this? Never. And it seems to us of Canada, and has some da.m to the Bahzc that the simple fact to which we have al-

stands out before us as one who knows that his mission is from God, and that it can stand upon its merits. So confident is he of its power, that he is content to breathe it out in God's air, and leave it to live by its own inherent and self perpetuating immortality, or not live at all. And so lie goes about doing good, now teaching in the synagogue and temple, now talking to his disciples as he sits on Olivet, or by the sea of Galilee, and now dropping a word as lie walks by the way. And there is not manifested the slightest apprehension that what he says will be lost. He writes it not in stone or

parchment. Nay, he writes it

at all. He seeks only to give it a lodg-

and

feel its power, and love it and is

im to lovc it and is wiHing

to leave

willing to love it and is willing to leave it there to produce its fruits and not to be

THE RUSH TO KANSAS The St. Joseph (Mo.) correspondent of 1 the Missouri Republican writing from St.

un(ier 0f

BADLY SOLD.—One of the earliest hobbies of the Know Nothings was to add to the ordinary qualifications of voters the ability to read, and after working long and hard they secured the adoption of this plan in Connecticut. It was intended to cut off a large number of naturalized voters but great is the chagrin of Sam to find that the language a man must read is not named, and the Courts dccide that the law admits all who can read, whether in English, German, Hebrew, Irish,^Choctaw,

broke down as an advocate, and #0 did or any other written or printed tongue.—

NUMBER

EftGltAXD AT HElt OLD GAME. By the next steamer which will soon arrive at some of our Atlantic sea-port*, from Havana, wc shall probably learn that a powerful fleet has sailed from that port to bombard-and blockadc Vera Cruz and other small towns along the Mexican coast.— In yesterday's American we gave ,our readers a brief history of the difficulty existing between the two beliigcrent powers. One would think that from the civil commotions which has distracted Spain for the

thot shi nna.

a"ds,1

,Ms war,

fact that her citizens in Mexico have not been protected in accordance with tho. laws of nations the scrip which Mexico issued for the adjustment of claims due Spanish subjects, have been repudiated and interest due on her bonds have remained unpaid, and other ifSjust causes, on the part of Mexico, has brought about the present unhappy feeling and war between the two countries.

But the main mystery to be solved ia where does Spain get the requisite funds for carrying on this war? Is not her treasury empty and her government bankrupt? Is not the revenue which she receives from Cuba and other Islands, in the hands of English bond holders? To be sure they are? Then from whence docs she receive this aid and comfort to carry on her designs upon Mexico?

Far away off, amid the dark blue sea, lies a. small island, smaller than one-sixth of the whole United States. She assumes to control—not only the destinies of the Old World but her ever-grasping hand seeks to extend her influence to the New—New World. No matter by what process sho gains this ascendency—if it be by war, rapine, plunder, it will be in strict accordance with the policy of her most sagacious statesmen, such as Pitt, Walpolc, Clivc, Hastings, Wellington and others who have gone down to the grave with all the manifestations of "Well done, good and faithful servants, tbou hast carried out the grand scheme, as laid down by us bankers, merchants, swindlers and holders of India stock, and thy remains shall be placed in Westminister Abbey there to remain as a lasting testimonial of the grandeur and power thou hast raised the name of Britton!" r*

But come down to a later day in the history of British diplomacy, and wcscc Palmerston, Clarendon, Derby, Russell, &c., following in the immediate footsteps of their illustrious predecessors. England assumes the protectorate, not only of Spain, but of the other less dependencies of Europe. Already her vast territory in Asia frf., extends from the Indian Occan to the Ilimmayla Mountains—eastward to the China Sea, and westward to the Red Sea. Her acquisitions in Africa have been less extensive, having only gained foothold at tho Cape of Good Ilopc. On the American

settlement

luded there is the impress of truth, and contravention of the Clayton and Bulwer proof that his mission is all divine. lie treaty

in Central America, in direct

And now, let us ask, how has England

oained

this ascendency over all other inara-

time powers—her vast possessions in both hemispheres? Is it not by fire, the sword, and intrigue? "Alas!" says Macauly, "how is the English name sunk! I cannot avoid paying the tribute of a few tears to the departed and lost fame of the British nation—irrevocably so, I fear."

It is apparent that Spain, as regards her designs upon Mexico, is backed up by England, and as a feint, she asks England not to let the United States interfere. Whether the United States will allow this mode'of procedure against a sister republic, whom wc ought to cherish, foster and protect, remains to be seen. The territory of Mexico forms our south-western boundary, and day by day our interests arc becoming so interlinked, that, to make war upon her by any European power, would be to seriously affect our own interests—if not to indirectly make war with us.

MURDER IN INDIANA.—The Evansville

March 15th, says:

'The emigration to Kansas reminds me of that to California in the days of its greatest allurements. Trains upon trains are pouring in from every quarter, but particularly from the free States. I had once thought, as I used to write you, that Kansas would be a slave State, but I am now forccd to alter my opinion from the overwhelming evidences to the contrary that force themselves upon me every day. "Our ferry boats arc busily engaged from daylight until dark in carrying over trains, and the proportion of Free Soil to the Pro-slavery emigrants is as fifteen to one. This is not confined alone to our point of crossing, but it is so at every other that I can hear from, and it satisfies me that the political destiny of Kansas is fixed beyond all question. "Wars and rumors of war she will know no more, but peace will brood over her beautiful prairies and prosperity will reign throughout her borders. I am a Pro-slave-ry man, and would prefer to see my favorite institution established there but I am, nevertheless, convinced, that the energetic, enterprising Yankee will develop the resources and build up the country sooner than we could do, and that by living in harmony with them as our neighbors, they will do us no injury in our peculiar property."

<Enquirer>, learns that a cowardly and atrocious murder was committed on Tuesday night week, upon the person of a highly respectable man named McClintock, who resides about four miles east of the town of Boonville, Warwick county. His wife was preparing supper for the family, and hearing a noise outside the house, he opened the door and was immediately shot in the side, and fell dead in the doorway. Wednesday morning, upon examination, it was found that he was perforated with eight buckshot, and it is supposed that the assassin was standing near the doorway. As yet, no trace of the murderer has been discovered, though after daybreak he was tracked some distance by his footprints.— This horrible affair has caused great sensation throughout Warwick and part of Vanderburg counties, as the deceased was a man extensively known and highly respected by all who were acquainted with him. He leaves a family behind him, some of the children quite young. He was a native of Pennsylvania. ———<>———

VST The act of dying, says Sir Ilenry Halfourd, the eminent London physician, ia seldom painful. He says—Of the great number to whom it has been my painful professional duty to have administered in the last hours of their lives, I have sometimes felt surprised that so few have appeared reluctant to go to the "undiscovered country from whose bourne no traveler returns."

FROM THE WAIST UPWARDS.—The Paris ladies have adopted a substitute for ', crinolines, called "jupons." They arc made, of steel and wont give an inch. A lady who undertook to faint at a fashionable,, parly some evenings ago, found it impossible to fall on account of the stiffness of herv steel skirt, and was put ta the disagreeable necessity of fainting, only from the waijt upward.

80^ Goa. Wool ha? boea in tie!~viiky {trtf4tn years.