Vincennes Gazette, Volume 14, Number 52, Vincennes, Knox County, 29 May 1845 — Page 1

TRUTH WITHOUT FEAR." voi. on: xiv. VJIJEWES, 5I)!AA, TIltRSDAY HOR-MAtt, JI AY 9 1 81.1. AO. 53.

Curl a i it Ij v c t u r e n FROM THK LONDON rCNCH.

LECTURE f. MP. CAUDLE HAS LENT FIVE TOCNDS TO A Friend. You ought to be very rich, Mr. Candle. I wonder who'd lend you five pounds? Hut so ii is, a wife may work and may slave. Ha, dear! the many things that niig.it have been done with five pounds! A3 if people picked up money in the street! Hut you always wete a fool, Mr.1 Caudle! I've wanted a black satin gown' these three years, and five pounds would have pretty well bought it. Hut it's no' 'natter how go not at all. Every body says I don't dress as becomes vour wife and I know it; but what's that to you. Caudle? Nothing. Oh, no! you can have ane leehngs for every one but those belonging to you. I wish people knew you as well as I do that's all. You like to oo called liberal and your family pays Jor tt. AH thegirls want bonnets, when they're In ?et m I can't tell. Half of live pounds would have bought 'em but now they must go without. Of course they belong to you; and any body but your own tlesh and blood, Mr. Caudle. The man called for water rate, to-day; but I should like to Know how people are to pay taxes who throw away five pounds to every fellow that asks them. Perhaps you don't know that Jack, this morning, knocked his shuttle cock through the bed room window. I was going to end for a glazier to mend it: but after you lent the five pounds I was sure we couldn't afford it. Oh, n ! the window must go as it is: and pretty vreather for a dear child to sleep with a broken window. He's got a cold already on his lungs, and I shouldn't at all wonder if that broken wind ow settled him if the dear boy dies, hi death will be upon his father's head; tor I am sure we can't now pay to mend windows. We might though, and do a good many more things, if people didn't tnrow away their five pounds. Next Tuesday, the fire insurance is due. I should like to know how it is to be paid. Why, it can't be paid at all. The five pounds would have just done it and now, insurance is out of tne quesiion. An l there never were so many tires as there are now. I shall never close my eyes all night but what's that to you, so people call you liberal, Mr. Caudle? Your wife and children bunrt alive in their beds so all of us to a certainty shall be, for the insurance must drop. And after we've insured for so many years! But how, I should like to know, are people to insure, who mike ducks and drakes of their five pound-? 1 did think we might o to Margate this summer. There's po r Iitile Caroline, I'm sure she wants the sea. H it no, d"ar creature she in ust stay at home she'll go into consumption. there is no doubt of thai; yes dear angel I've made up my mind to lose her, now. The child might have been saved; but people can't save their children and throw away their five pounds, too. I wonder where poor little Cherub is! While you were lending those five pounds the dog ran out of the shop you know I never let it go in the street for fear it should be bit by some mad dog, and come home and bite all the children. It wouldn't now at all astonish me if the animal was to coma back wiih the hydrophobia, anil give it to all the family. However, what's your family to you, so you can play the liberal creature with five pounds? Do yo hear the shutter how its banging to and fro? Yes I know what it wants as well as you, it wants a new fastening. I was going to send for the blacksmith to--day. Hut now it's out of the question; now it mu9t bang of nights since von have thrown away five pounds. Well thirgs have come to a pretty pass! This is the first night I ever made my supper olT roast beef without pickles. Hut tvvho is to afford pickles when folk9 are always lending five pounds? Ah! there's ihe soot falling down the chimney. If I hate the smell of anything, it's the smell of soot. And you know it; but whit are my feelings to you? Sweep the chimney! Yes. its all very fine to ay sweep the chimney but how are chimneys to be swept how are they 10 be paid for by people who don't take care of the five pounds? Do you hear the mice running about the room? 1 hear them. If they were only to drag you out of bed,' it would be no matter. Set a trap for 'em. Hut howare people to afford the cheese, when everv dav they lose five pounds? Hark! I'm sure there is a noise down stair. It wouldn't surprise mo if there were thieves in the house. Well, it maybe the cat; but thieves are sure to come in some night. Theie's a wretched fastenin on the back door; but these are not times to afford bolts or bars, when fools won't take care of their five pounds. Mary Anne ought to have gone to the den tist to-morrow. She wants three teeth taken nut. Now it can't be done. Three teeth that quite disfigure the child's mouth. - Hut there they must stop, and spoil the sweetest face that ever was made. Othru ii chM Iipn -a wife for a lord. Now when -he grows up. who'll have her?Nobodv. We shall die and leave her i .,.t n..riit0.?.l in the woild. Hut

what do you care for thai? Nothing; so. And then 1 know what will follow. It you can s mander away live pounds. J must follow. Yes, you'll be sent for a And now, st-e, Mr. Caudle, what a mi- month or six weeks to the tread-mill. ery you've brought upon your wretched j Pretty tiling, that, for a respectable tradesfamily! I can't have a s itin gown ihejitian, Mr. Caudle, to be put upon the girls can't have new bonnets the water ! tread-null with all sorts of thievrs and rate must stand over Jack must get his ; j vagabonds, and there, again, that tr-rri-death through a broken window our fireble tobacco! and riif roll' eserv kind. insurance can't be paid, so we shall alljl should like to know how vo ir children fail victims to the devouring element we are to holp up their hea ls, after their fa-

can't go to .Y'nrgaie. and Caroline will go to an esrly grave the dog will come horns mad and bite us the shutters will go banging for ever the sont will always fall the mice will never let u- have a wink of sleep thieves will be always be breaking into the house and our dear Mary Anne be for ever left an unprotected maid and all, Mr. Caudle, because you will go lending five pounds! LECTURE II. MR. CAUDLE HAS BEEN" AT A TAVERN WITH A FRIEND. Poor me! Ha! I'm sure I don't know who'd be a poor woman! 1 don't know who'd tie themselves up to a man, if they knew only half they have to bear. A wit -must stay at home, and be a drudge, whilst a man can go any where. It's enough for a wife to sit like Cinderella by the ashes, whilst her husband can go drinking and singing at a tavetn. You never sing! How do I know you never sing? Its very well for you to say so; but if 1 could hear you. I dare say ycu're amongst the worst of 'em. And now, I suppose, it will be the tavern every night. If you think I'm going to sit up for you, !Jr. Caudle, you're very much mistaken. No. and I'm not going to get out of my warm bed to let you in, either. No: nor Susan shan't sit up for you. No: nor you shan't have a latchkey. I'm not going to sleep with the door upon the latch, to be murdered before the morning. Faugh! Pah! Whewgh! That filthy tobacco smoke! It's enough to kill any decent woman. You know I hate tobacco, and yet you will do it. You don't smoke yourself! What of that? If you go among people who smoke, you're just as bad, or worse. You might as well smoke indeed, better. Better smoke yourself, than come home with other people's smoke in your hair. I never knew any good come to a man who went to a tavern. Nice companions he picks up there! Yes; people who make it a boast to treat their wives like slaves, and ruin their families. There's that wretch. Petty-man. See what he's come to. He doesn't now get home till two in the morning, and then in what a state! Ha begins quarrelling wrth the doormat, that his poor wife may be afraid to speak to him. A mean wretchJ Hut don't you think I'll he like Mrs. Petty-mail. 'No; I wouldn't put up with it from ihe best man that ever trod. You'll not make me afraid to speak to you, however you may swear at the dooimat. No, Mr. Caudle, that you won't. You don't intend to stay out till two in the morning! How do you know what vou'll do, when you get among such people? Men can't answer for themselves when they get boozing with one another. They never think of their poor wives, who are grieving and wearing themselves eut at home. A nice head-ache you'll have to-morrow morning or rather this morning; for it must be pat twelve. You won't have a head-ache! It's very well for you to say so, but I know you will; and then you may nurse yoursHf for me. Ha! that filthy tobacco again! No; I snail not go to sleep like a good soul! How's people to go to sleep when they're suffo cated? Yes, .Mr. Caudle, you'll be nice and ill in the morning! Hut don't you think I'm going to let you have your breakfast in bed, like Mrs. Pettyman. I'll not be such a fool. No; nor I won't have discredit brought upon the house by sending for soda-water early, for all the neighborhood to say 'Caudle was drunk last night!' No: I've some regard for the dear children, if you havn't. No: nor you shan't have broth for dinner. Net a neck of mutton crosses mv threshold, I can tell you. You won't want soda, and you won't want broth! All the belter. You would'nt get 'em if you did, 1 can assure you. Dear, dear, dear! That filthy tobacco! I'm sure it's enough to make me as bad as you are. Talking about getting divorced I'm sure tobacco ought to be good grounds. How little does a woman think when she marries, that she gives herself up to be poisoned! You men contrive to have it all your own side, you do. Now. if was to go and leave you and the children, a pretty noise there'd be! You, however, can go and smoke no end of pipes You don't smoke! I'ts all the same, Mr. Caudle, if you go among smoking people. Folks are known by their company. You'd better smoke yourself, than bring me the pipes of all the world. Yes. I spe how it well be. Now you've once gone to a tavern, you'll always be going. You'll be coming home tipsy every night; and tumbling down and breaking your leg, and putting out your shoulder; and bringing all sorts of disgrace and expense upon u. And then you'll be getting into a street fight oh! I know your temper too well to doubt it. Mr. Caudle and be knocking down some of the police.

ther has been upon the tread-mili? No;

I won't go to sleep. And I'm not talking f what is impossible. I know it will all happen every bit of it. If it wasn't for the dear children, you might be ruined and I wouldn't so much as speak about it, but oh, dear! at least you might go where they smoke good tobacco but I can't forget that I'm tneir mother. At least, they shall have one parent. To"ofno Movor J ul n mnn go to n tiv. em who didn't die a beggar. And how your pot companions will laush at vou when they see your name in the Gazette. For it must happen. Your business is sure to fj'I utT; for what respectable people wi;l buy toys for their children of a drunkard? You're not a drunkard! No, but you will be it's alt the same. lou've begun by staying out till midnight. Hv-und-bv it will be all uiiit. Hut don't you think, Mr. Cau lie, you shall ever have a key. 1 know you. Yes, you'd dj exactly like that Irettyman. and what did he do only last Wednesday? Why he let himself in about four in ihe morning, and brought home with bun his pot-companion, Leanly. His dear wife woke at six. and saw Prettyman's dirty boots by her bed side. And where was the wretch, her husband? Why, he was drinking down stairs swilling. Yes; worst than a midnight robber, he'd taken the keys out of his dear wife's pockets ha! what that poor creature has to bear! and had got at the brandy. A pretty thing for a wife to wake at six in the morning, and instead of her husband, to see his dirty boots! Hut I'll not be made your victim, .Mr. Caudle, not I. You shall never get at my keys for they shall lie under my pillow under my own head, Mr. Caudle. You'll be ruined; but if I can help it. you shall ruin nobody but yourself. Oh! that hor-hor-hor-i-bie tob-a:-co! LECTURE UL MR. CAUDLE JOINS A CLUit. 'THE SKYLARKS.' I'm sure a poor woman had better be in her grave than married! That is, if she can't be married to a decent man! NoI don't care if you are tired, 1 shan't let. you go to sleep. No'amlT 'wun'i say what I have to say in the morning; I'll say it now. It's all very well for you to come home at what time you like it's now half past twelve and expect I'm to hold my tongue, and let you go to sleep. What next, 1 wonder? A woman had better be sold for a slave at once. And so you've gone an I joined a club. The Skylarks, indeed! Hull won't stay and be ruined by you. No: I'm determined of that. I'll go and take the dear children, and you may get who you like to keep the house. That is, as long as you have a house to keep, and that won't be long I know. How any decent man can go and spend his nights in a tavetn! oh, yes, Mr. Caudle; 1 dare say you do go for rational conversation. I should like to know how many of you would care for whdt you call ration! conversation, if you had it without your filthy brandy and water; yes and your filthy tobacco smoke. I'm sure the last time you came horn", I had the headache for a week. Hut I know who it is who's taking you to destruction. It's that brute Prettyman. He has broken his own poor wife's heart, and now he wants to but don't you think it, Mr. Caudle; 111 not have my peace of mind destroyed bv the best man that ever trod. Oh, yes! I know you don't care so long as you can appear well to the world but the world little thinks how you behave to me. It shall know it, though that Yrn determined. How any man can leave his own happy fireside to go and sit, and sit, and smoke, and drink, and talk with people who wouldn't one of 'em lift a finger to save him from hanging how any man can leave his wife and a good wife, too, though I say it for a parcel of pot companions oh, it's disgraceful, Mr. Caudle; its unfeeling. No man who had the leasi love for a wife could do it. And I suppose this is to be the case every Saturday? but I know what I'll do. I know it's no use, Mr. Caudle, your calling me a f-ood creature: I'm not such a fool as to be coaxed in that way. No; if you want to go to sleep, you should come home in Christian time, not at half past twelve. There was a time when you were as regular at your fireside as the kettle That was when you were a decent man ami didn't go amongst Heaven knows who, drinking and smoking, and making what you think your jokes. No respectable tradesman does. Hut I know what I'll do: I'll scare away your skylarks. The house serves liquor afier twelve of a Saturday; and if I don't write to the magistrates, and have the license taken away. I'm not lying in this bed this night. Yes. you may call me a foolish woman; but no. Mr. Caudle, it's you who are the foolish man; or worse than a foolish man; you're a wicked one. If you were to dio to-

morrow and people who go to public houses do all tney can to shorten their lives I should like to know who would write upon your tomb-stone, 'A tender husband and affjclionhte father.' I'd iiave no such falsehoods told of you, I can assure you. Going an I spending your money, and nonsense! don't tell me no, if you were to ten times swear it, 1 wouldn't believe that you spent on'v eighteen pence mi a Saturday. You can't be all those hours, and only spend eighteen pence. I know belter. I'm not quite a fool. Mr. Caudle. A great deal you could have for eighteen pence! And all the club married men and fathers' of families. The more shame for 'em! Skylarks, indeed! They should call themselves Yultures; for they can only do as they do by robbing their wives an. I cnildren. Eighteen pence a week! And if it was only that do yon know what fifty-two eighteen penof-s come to iii a year? Do you ever think of that, and see the gowns I wear? I'm sure I can't out of the house money buy myself a pincushion, though I've wanted one ihese sixmotilhs. No not so much as a ball

of cotton. But what do you care s you can get your brandy and water? There's the girls, too the things they want! They're never dressed like other people's children. But ' it's all the same to their father. Oh, yes! SoJie can go with his Skylarks, they may svear sackcloth for pinafores, and packthread for garters. You'd belter not let that Mr. Prettymin come here, that's all; or rattier you'd better bring him once. Yes, I should like to see him. He wouldn't forget it. A man who, I may say, lives and moves in a spittoon. A man who has a pipe in his mouth as constant as his front teeth. A sort of tavern king, with a lot of fools like you, :o laugh at what he thinks his jokes, and give bun consequence. No, Mr. Caudle, no; it's no use your telling me to go to sleep, for I won't. Go to sleep, indeed! I'm sure it's almost time to get up. I hardly know what's the use of coming to bed at all now. TheSkylarks, in leed! I suppose you'll be buying a 'Little Warbler,' and at your time o( life be trying to sing. The peacocks will sing next. A pretty name you'll gel iii the neighborhood; and, in a very little time a nice name vou'll have. Your nose is redder already; and you've just one cf the noses that liquor always llies to. You don't see it's red? No I dare say nit but see it see a great many things you don't. And so you'll go on. In a little time with your brandy ami watec Jen'l tell me that you only take two small glasses; I know wh.ir men's two small glasses are in a little time you'll halve a face all over as if it was made with red curientjam. And I should like to know who is to endure you then? 1 wDn'l and so don't think it. Don't come to inc. 'Nice habits men learn at clubs! There's Jcskins: he was a decent creature once, end no'v I'm told he has more than once bcxed his wife's ears. He's a skylark, too. And I suppose, some day, you'll be trying to box my ears? Don't attempt it Mr. Caudle I say don't attempt it. Yes --it's all very weil for you. to say you don't mean it but I only say again don't aitemut it. You'd rue it till the dav of yrjur death. Mr. Caudle. 'Going and sitting for hours at a tavern! "hat men, unless they had their wives with them can find to talk about. I can't Utnk. No good of cour:-e. "Eighteen pence a week and drinking bjaudy and water enough to swim a boat! ; fnd smoking like the tunnel of a steams lip! And L can't afford myself so much c i a piece of tape! It's brutal, Mr. Caut e. It's ve-ve-ve ry bru ial.' And,' says a note in tho MS. by Mr. Caudle 'Here, thank Heaven! yawning, she fell asleep!' LECTUKE IV. MR. CAUDLE HAS REMAINED DOWN STAl .13 TiLL PAST ONE WITH A FrtlEND. A pretty tfme of night to come to bed. Mr. Caudle. Ugh! As col I too, as any ice. Enough to give any woman her death, I'm sure. W hat! I shouldn t have lock ed up the coal?, indeed? If I hadn't, I'v-o no doubt the fellow would nave staid all night. It's all very well for you, Mr. Caudle to bring people home but I wish you would think first what's for supper, that beautiful leg of pork would have served for dinner to-morrow and now its gone. I can't keep the house upon the money, and I won't pretend to do it if you bring a mob of people every night to clear the cupboard. "1 wonder who'll be so ready to give you a supper when you want one; for want one you will, unless you change your i.lana. Don't tell iiie! I know 1 m right. You'll fast be eaten on, and then you' he laucrhrd nt. I know the world. No, indeed" Mr. Caudle, I don't think ill of every body; don't say that. Hut I can't see a leg of pork eaten up in that way. without asking myself what it's all to end in ii such things go on? And then he must have pickles, too! Couldn't be content with my cabbage no, Mr. Caudle. I won't let you go to sleep; it's very well for vou to say, let you go to sleep, after you've kept me awake till this time. iry did I keep awake? How do you suppose I could go to sleep, when I knew

tfiat man was below drinking up your substance in brandy and water? for he could'nt be content upon decent wholesome gin. Upon my word, you ouhi to be a rub man, Mr. Caudle. You have such fine friends. I wonder who gives you brandy when you gooui! "N, indeed, he couldn't be content wiih my pickled cabbage and 1 should like to know who makes bettler but lie must have walnuts. And, you too, like a fool now, don't you think to stop me, Mr. Caudle; a poor woman may be truuipled to death, and never say a word you, too, like a fool 1 wonder who'd do it for you to insist upon the girl going out for the pickled walnuts, and in such a night, too! With snow upon the ground! Yes; you're a man of fine feelings, you are, Mr. Caudle! but the world doesn't know you as I know you fine feelings indeed! to send the poor girl out, when 1 told you and your friend, loo a pretty brtite" he is, I'm sure that the poor girl had got a cold and chilblains on her toes. Hut 1 know what will be the end of that she'll be laid up, and we shall have a nice doctor's bill. And you'll pay it, I can tell you,

tor I won t. Wish you were out of the world? Oh yes, that's all very easy. I'm sure I might wish it. Don't swear in that dreadlul way! Ami you afraid that the bed will open and swallow you? And don't swing about in that way. That will do no good. That won't bring back the leg of pork, and the brandy you've poured down your throats. Oh, I know it. I'm sure of it. 1 only recollected it when I'd got into bed, and if it hadn't been so cold, you'd .eer. me down stairs again, I can tell you I recollected it, and a pretty two hours I've passed, that 1 left the key in the cupboard I knew it 1 could see by the manner of you, when you came into ihe room I know you've got at the other bottle. However, there's one comf rt: you told me to send for the best brandy the very best for you and your friend, who called last Wednesday, I la ha!' It wes British the cheapest British and nice and ill I hope the pair f you will be to-morrow. 'There's only the bare bon? of the leg of pork, but you'll get nothing else for dinner, I can tell you. It's a dreadful thing that the poor children should go without but if they have such a father, they, poor things must suffer for it. - ' Nearly a whole leg of pork and a pint of brandy! A pint of brandy and leg of pork. A leg of leg pint. And mumbling the syllables, says Mr. Caudle's MS. she. went to sleep. LLUIUKE - v. CAUDLE HAS BEEN CALLED FHOM HIS BED TO BAIL MR. PRETTYMAN FfOM THE WATCH HOUSE. Fie, Mr. Caudie I knew it would come to this. I said it would when you joined those precious Skylarks. People being called out of their beds at all hours of the nirht to bail a set of fellows who are never so happy as when they're leading sober men to destruction. I should like to know w hat the neighbors will thmk of you. with the peple from the police knocking at the door at two in the morning. Don't tell me that the man has been ill-used. And you must go and bail him. I know ihe end of that he'll run away, and you'll have to pay the money. I should like to know w hat's the use of my working and slaving to save a farthing, when you throw away pounds upon your precious Skylarks. A pretty cold you'll have to morrow morning, being called out of your warm bed this weather, but don't vou think 1 II nurse you not l-.-not 8 drop of jjruel do vou get from me. I'm sure you've plenty of ways of spending your money and not throwing it away upon a set of dissolute peace breakers. It is all very well for you to say you havn't thrown away your money, but you will. He'll be certain to run otF it isn't likely he'll go upon his trial, and vou'll be fixed wiih the bail. Don't tell mo there's no trial in the matter, because I know there is it's for something more than quarreliing with the policeman that he was locked up. People aim locked up for that. No it's for robbery or something worse perhaps. And as you've bailed him, peop'n will think you are as bad as he is. Don't tell me you could'nt help bailing him you should have shown yourself a respecta ble man, end have let him been sent to prison Now the people will know you are the friend of drunken and o:hrr disorderly persons you'll never have a night's sleep in your bed. Not that it would matter what fell upon you if it wasn't your poor wife who suffered. Of course all the business will be in the newspapers, and your name with it. I shouldn't wonder too, if they give vour picture as they do the other folks of the Old Bailey. A pretty thing that, logo down to your children. I'm sure it will be enough to make them change their npme. NTo. I shall not go to sleep, after such a disturbance. I shall go to ' But herp.says Mr. Caud'c's manuscript, happily, she slumbered for Mr. Candle had, considering the theme she had to talk upon, a rmarkdble short lecture. Pride i-i loud beggar a want.

Prospects of General PeaceDuring lecent Uebaie m t'arliament, !..ord Palmerston, in his attack on the slave na le negotiation now going on between :he Due de Brogtie, and Dr. Lushington. accused Sir Uobert Peel of having made dishonorable connessiong to France. The right houorable baronet, in repelling the charge, enunciated principles which must aff rd great gratification to the friends of peace. He avowed his predilections for a pacific policy, and announced his deterinitiation to pursue that policy as long a he could do so without compromising th honor or sacrificing the interest of the country. It is pleasing to find that the leading powers of Europe are not only avowing, but acting on ihe same pacific principle. Guizot is emphatically the minister of peace. Loins Philiippe i the monarch of peace. He estimates th bleseir.gs of peace at so high a value, that from his language it might be supposed that he would sooner lose his crown than become a patty to another European war. There is therefore every ground to behove that the peace of Europe will be long preserved. The political sky wears a pacific aspect. We are mistaken, in

deed, if the d-iys of European wars ba not over. Apart from mere feeling on the subject, the nations are at lengthopi ning iIkut eyes to the folly and miseries of war. Wiiat was ever gained by it? What European country can be named that has ever been benefitted by hostilities with another country? What country, on the contrary, ever engaged in a war that was not a loser by it, a loser in treajure as well as in the lives of its subjects? Even the victorious power is of'en almost ruined by its triumphs. Look at England. We vanquished Napoleon; but what was the price at which our victories were purchased? The answer is to be found in the present over-taxed con dition of the people. Our triumphs were purchased at the cost of jCGOO.UOO.UOO. W are suffering for our victories now. Nor will tho pernicious consequences of our wars and our victories be confined to ourselves. They will outlive us for ma ny ajong year; our descendants for ages to come wi!l have to 6inart severely lor the folly. Advocate of Peace. Enormous Levies of Soldif.rs. In the spring of J7'J3, the French Conven tion levied csuu.ouu men, and early in August, 1,20 ,(KO more in all, 1,500,. 0 )0, in less than six months, from a pop. ulation of some 2G, 000,000; about one in seventeen, or one soldier to every third family! How long would it take such a piuuooa' to cnhattfM a country of its men anil its nroiiertvT HOW THE WAR-SVSTEM SUSTAINS DESPOTISM. 'The whole energies of Russia,' says Allison, 'are turned towards t tie army. Commerce, the law, and all civil employments, are held in no esteem all the youth f any consideration betake themselves to the rofession of arms. ' Immense military schools, in different parts of the empire, annually send forth the whole flower of the population to thij dazzling career.' Here is a receipe for despotism. Makb wer the chief business of the people, the military profession almost the only passport to wealth, or power, or fame, or social distinction and we see the natural result in the autocracy and serfdom of Russia. Every F.rniy. every military school, the entire w ar-system is an ally of despotism. The war-sstemof Europe, transfi rred to this country, would ere long crush our liberties. 'Man Faced Hikd'.' At Walapu, in New Zealand, the natives speak of a monstrous animal, which is called a moa, and which, in general appearance, Is described to resemble an immense domestic cock, with the difference, however, of its possessing a 'face like a man,' and living upon air, and bein guarded by two enormous tuatearas, who, like Argus, keep inct s-ant watch while the moa sleeps. Th Rev. W. Colenso, in the summer of IS 1 1-2, obtained some moa bones, from which it is calculated that this extraordinary bird must have measured in altiinde when alive, at the lowest rale of estimation fiom fourteen to sixteen feel! Thus it must luve formed an enormous feathered monster, well worthy from its gigantic size, of being classed with the Megalosaurus of Bucklatid, and the mastodon of Cuvier. A mechanic, who had been residing at Cloudy Bay, in the Middle Island as.-eris that this bird now exists in the hdln near Cloudy Hay, and that one has been seen bv two Americans, who had gon to t hoot it, hut were so petrified with horror that thev were utterly unable to fire j ) it. Gray's Edinburgh .Qdvtiser A Handsome Rose. The Michigan, or Eglantine rose, as it is called, may bo planted at the side of a dwelling, at th" base of column, or at the foot of a tree. From a "ingle not it will spread out X branches to the length of twenty-eight or thirty feet in one season. Its foliage n beautiful, but wiiat lenders it more plaaoin" is the numerous clusters of flower, white, pink, red and black, which may b frequently sen in one clustf r. L't these roses be cultivated extensively in our ow.i beautiful cilv. By so doing, much will he added to our already pleasant 8iiefdk".

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