Bloomington Post, November 2, 1838 : Front Page

Publication: Bloomington Post November 2, 1838

Bloomington Post (Newspaper) - November 2, 1838, Bloomington, Indiana TOI.. 3. KmrF.d and rUCMSIIEU kvkrv flildav BY M. L. DEAL. OrriCK ON main cnoss street, first door west of maj. iiighx's. BLOOillllVGTOIV, FRIDAY i\OTEMBfiR 1838. !vo. nr. TERMS. Two dollaw ill advance, two fifty in six monlha and three at ilie end of tlic year. No paper will !jc diacontlnued unti! all arrearages are aid up. Oi^AnvERTisEiiENTs ot tcn lines or less, will be pub-iislicd three weeks tor one dollar, and 25 cents for cach additional insertion. All adver-iirteiiientH must be marked with the number ofinsprtio;i.«,or they will be inserted till forbid and charged accoi-din-ly. The CASH muKt in variably "accompany advertise-meuw fioiri a didtaiice or they will not receivo attention. All letters and contniunioations addressed to the e.litor must be free of poHtaRe. No variation whatever need bn exiiected from these terms. L13T OF AGl'NTK The following gentl(Miicu ate requested and au-ithorized to act an agents: to receive Subscription», Joli Work, dveriising &c. and receipt for the same. 'J'iKOiAs C. Ji)HNS()\, Spsnt'er, la. ](. H. Tmuior. Mill (irove, la. Samukl II. Siiivrii, Howlitii!;greeii, la. Jii;:;; PAni;, Fro lo;iin, imliiina.\Vm. Hkrop, Enq. Coltiuibua, la. (I. Wavmav, Marlinshiir^i, la. 1). A. K.AWi.iN is, New Albany, la. J. S. Ir.wiN, Louisville, Ky. «;r()r.<;r. ^Iav, Paikertibnrfi', Montg.^nll■ry <'o. la. \Vm. S. Uobe.-.ts, Es.|., Na^liville, la. Dr. 1. 1!. Maxwkm., Fiaiikfort, la. .Uiiis Haitfktun, Croencaslle, la. (iKuif;!: (i. Urw, Bedford, Indiana. /'/•,■■;( f'lc ¡hiUif.mrr Amrrirnu. oili; :;()N. \Vf l.avi) l»t;f<>;c us u v(!ry (.iMÍtoiaic report of.Mr-l.iiiii, C'bairiKriii of'.hc stloft ciiiuniittec of ihe Scii-.•rc nf the I'liiii «! ■ tilles, to which was referred n bill to uuthKi i/.i; tlu: I'rir^l.lciu ofUic United Stales 10 (K-ciipy tilt; Oresion Ten ii u y. Titn document is ol'j{ic'ia líüiíih. .\fier aiivcrtiii^ to the opinion ex-|rics-iL'il by rix-l'i'^-ii icnt Mohroein his inessnge, in rel'crrii'-e lo the [irnpi ietv of forniiiig a settlement 011 the Oie^oj). the cnimni lot; proccud to rccom-»iKMid as prompt an action in I In; pruiiii^t:S us inuy be (•on-.i-<ienl wilii the finoil undcrslanding^Tnt t>res ('I t c.xisiiiit; liftwcon the rniteii Slules and tireat Miitain, l!if only power whose claims in regard to »Iiis territory arc inronillct with those uf this coiin-II v. The letter of tnsi I notion ;;iven by lix-Presi-(ient Jackson to Mr. Slocuiii, w ho, it will bo reniem-IkV-hI, visited the co.intry somejyears sincc, is quoted. Iii whidi that gentleman is ie(|ucstcd lo^iDake s ieh observations and gsither such information with jegaid to the territory us ciicuiiistances may permit. in caiiv^ssinp; the (piestion of right, the^ com-r.iitt Stiles t!ie nrgumiMit of (lovcrnor Floyd on the sii^lh bcfoie Congress, nil 1 the two reports of Mr. liaylics to the snn.e body. It .seems I hat in tin." IküIv i n!rreJ into between Spuin and the United 8luie.s,,!it Washington, in l8-1!'. th*}(iinitiial bniinilaiy liiu botween the two pow-vvH was esiiibli^h<Ml on liie I'JJ degree of latitude, exten.ling westwaid fi 0,11 ih<'Hoeky Mountains to tlie I'acilii: t-)eean. 'i lie So>rli'>r¡:)0Hi point to which Hus^iu claims is .^>1 (ie^^ 10 Ml. and 51 dcg. '10 m. north hiMtudi', is eniiiely uiicluiii.ed except by lliciil I!: itain and ihu riiircd Slates. In the nego-iiali"ns\hat iiave tiikcii place. bi:twc cn the two gov-emiiii-iits oil this siibjcci, tciiijioiary nrrnngements Imv«' I'i'dii luadc from tiiiir to time, leaving the per-tnan> iii scltlcniciit ul" ilu; (lilVieully to futuro ar-inngciiiciit. Under tluv-c icmporary nrrangeincnts, a vi-ai's iiütic<í is r"<|uire(! ;o give validity to any al-K-i.(Iiun, w ilhout « Inch ilu y u itiain in full force.— In the treaty of (¡bent, ti" specific leferenco is had to ihis territory, fuj llu r iban the general provisions in^ci tcil that al! ici i iioi \, v'vc. whatever, taken by < i b(M pariv, s!ioi!!(I be rc^ioicd without delay, under w Inch a 1 riii;:-i:iiiit United iStatcs »ellle-il(;n t lit calli d A-!oria. at the mouth of the Oregon, hav l„i ii ;<i\cn ii;i to an iicereilitod agpnl of this I'o'Mi'iy. In ilii; (iic.crii'iiciit with Greol Biitain ill Iv'lÍ!, it agreed that l''asl of tho Uocky .Moun'iiiii.s i!ic line should be iho 'inth degree of Int-iludc, but it was uUo urrunged, that of tho North West Coast, as it is callcil, any country ciuimed by either na'ioii, should l>e I'oi'l<Mi years open to Ihc i eonle and ti a.le ol' ihe oibei wi thout inlorfcrcnce u lib the claii-.i; of ilie higl/contcnding parties. In Ií'>2;í, negociaiiüiis wore oi cned,an'l theques-tio» oi iiiie to tiic mouth of Colmubia river began ctiPsiiJeicd imiioitani in regard to commercial r^iHuiis witli Ci.eiit 111 iiaiii. At this timo .Mr. Uush i..:jIiU! ted bv Mr. Adams, us Secretary ofStale, I,, Iii .-o il«! scniciiiiiit of the point, iho ölst degree Ih iiii'\l'.-ii'iK.icd as ilic line west of tho Uotky Moiiiiiiiins, but i'li ibc iinilcrstanding, that should I ¡ic.it Kniniii insist, ilie Ulili degree should bo a-,lo|'!< ,I to ihft Pacific Dcciin, ;is il was alrca.ly the boiiii.lary 10 iho Uusiuard. In answer to Mr. li.'« proposiiio'i, tiie (JovernmeiU of (IretU Uritain as- Miiiiod the riglii to iiiiikt) settlements on all unoocu-I ied < oast in America. In the Convention of 1027, which followed, the relations under that of 1818 were con: i lilt d, with the understanding that eilher paity 11.i. Ill ablegate »ui givir.'t twelve mouth'» no- II,C." h H IMI lilis Cun\i niion that tho existing relations ou the ^^.b/•cl of tho North Woat Cuuat, be-iwccii (licat Hritain ami Americn, are based. The coiiuiiitue urge iluit if discovery bo allegoti as the i,asis ofihe Uritish claims, tlio right of Spain i» ii|-riMiicslilile, w hit il right has ifcn codcd to iho l.'ni-iiii! Stale-« ' hi ilie grutmd uf discovery, tircal Uri-1 liii ba«, ill the oiiiiiio.i oi'tho commillee, no right; ilicv !hcrei't)re proceed to exnii.ino tho tillo of ih« Uni'o.l Sia'cs wiihiegardto tho ianio foundation. So lar u» ilie Unitod Siiii. i aie concerned,i>o actual iiivestigaiion appears to hitvo takon placo; but iu 17!).». Captain (iray, of the hhip Columbia, of Uo»- loll, ili-covtjred for the (irst timo, the mouth of a riv-1 r. wliidi ',ic numeil tho Uoluuibia,und afltr hftvtog ii-.eii.ni.id Ihe I iiiiude, bearing of headland«, dw. u tumcil to the United State» ami untiouncod hit di«- covcry. Such «fm the diaeovery of the Cblumbia from the sea. In 1803^ an exploriog expedition was fitted out by our Gov«inment to proceed by land, by the way of tiM Rocky Moontaiua, to the mouth of Columbia river, the emiovot aucoeaa at tending which is well known. Tbia cx{^ition is deemed of imporMooe to the American title, as it was notice to the wurM of our claim followed up1»y possession,, in aooordance with the British doctriui. The extent of the territory so acquired is regulated by established principles in the law of uatioa*, the first ofwhich gives the rivers andaheir tributaries to those civilized nations who have discovered tftir mouths, and the second gives title half way to the settlement of the nearest civilized power. Either of these principles will carry our line as far as 49 degrees. The possession of the mouth of the Columbia i^i considered nfvast'importance in acommercial point of view, »9 it would secure an immense fur trade, and would open a direct commerce with California, China, Japan, and the Sandwich and Oriental Islands generally. T he importance of this settlement is strikingly illustrated by the fact that the United States have $13,000,000 worth of projwrty afloai on the Pacific connected with the whale fisheries, by which 8,000 seamen are supported, Hnd that it is neccssary to have some port at which the ves:«^ may refit after long voyages. The re|k)ri proceea^i to quote from the statements made by Mr. Slacum and other intelligent travellers, showing the. greai resources of the country, and the variety of ways in wliich its possession would be of value to us, but we must decline proceeding furihei with matters which however interesting on the score of information, are too extended ill their character to warrant un at present in devoting to them as much of our columns as they would require. Tin: DUTY OF GIVING A.\ HONEST VOTE. BV OBVILLE DEWEY. I have dwelt longer than I intended upon this first and fundamental principle of our political morality —that which requires every legally qualified citi zen to give his voto at the elections. There is another duty coincident with this, which is too obvious lo call forniuch argument, and yet too often violated, to be passed over in silence;and that is the duty of giving an honest vote. Every citizen, in t^s primory act that gives its being and character to the government, is to express his honest conviction. The vote demaods the contribution of his mind, of his jvidgment, of fttiriotUm and fidelity to Iho common weal. Tho ciiizcn tho real governor. And if the elected ruler is forbidden by every just principle to swerve from an honest purpo.se towards the public go<)d, so is the ruling elector. And he who surrenders his judgment or conscience to private interest, or the mere dictation of a party; ho who accepts a bribe or oflers one; he who, in tho ballot, smothers his own conviction, or atttmpts to coerce anoihers, is perjured in the holiest rites which he swears upon his countrv'a altar. Tho farniiarity with which certain transactions at the polls are spoken of—yes, palpable infractions of the luw with regard to the age, residence, and where a property qualification is required, tho property of voters—tho fteedoin with which parties cha-ge these practices upon each other after an election—are facts of evil omen. And the common defence set up for them is. if possible, worse than tho things themselves. The country, we are constantly told, is in danger; every nerve must be strained; every means used to carry certain measures; the opposite party leave no means, however llugilious and desfHirale, untried, and we must meot them on their own ground, and must fight them with their own weapons. Admirable doctrine! goes around the whole circuit of parties, and lends a handle to cach one wherewith to push on the cumulative argument for dishonesty and intrigue The countiy in danger! and to be sa.ved by corruj>-lion! by bribery, false swearing and the violated low! Tho nation sick and prostrate by tho tampering of some ignorant administrator, and how to be cured? Uy the canker and the gangreiup that are Gating out its very vitals! Away with such paltering nnd paltry arguments for the ex|)edient against the right! If it must be so, I had rather my country wore destroyed by truth,than saved by fals'jhood. I would rather it were ruined by virtue, than redeemed by corruption. Uut do not the very terms oi this statement show that it is not so? No; "honesty is tile best policy"for man or nation, for individual or party, nut if honesty is any where to be demanded or expected, il is in the first act thai gives its character to the government—the elections. Admit any false principles here, und what, iu consistency, can you look for but u corrupt government? Will you [x)i-son the fountain head, and cxi>ect the stream to be pure? I insist, then, that the clcctor shall be honest. lie should no more dare to bo false to his ow.i mind, false to his conscience, in giving his vole, than he would in giving hi« word. His voto is his word; and the only woid, perhaps, that he can speak in tho great ear of the nation. If that word is a lie, he sacrifices, as far as in him is. the rightof government and rectitude of tho country. THE UNKNOWN PAINTER. One beautiful summer morning, about the year 1820, several youths of Seulle auproached the dwelling of the celebrated painter Murillo, where they arrived nearly at the same time. Al\er the usual salutation«, they entered the studio. Murillo was not yet there, and each of the pupils walked up quickly tuhis easel to exainiae if tlie paint had dried. Mendes with a carelesa air, approached bis easel, when ao exclamatioa uf astonishment eaoaped hlia, and he gazed in mute surprise on his oanvMa, on which was roughly sketch«] • nuMt beauti(\il head ofthe Virgin; but the expraauoo was ao adminible, ih« liuea so clear, the oontour so ||r«ceful, that compared with the figures by whieh it was encircled, it seemed at if some beaveniy visitant had deecended among thenv •Ah, what is the matterf said a rough voice. The pupils turned at the sound, and all made a re-«{«ctful obeisance to tho great master. 'Look, SOTor Mm" illo, look!' exclaimed the youths, as they pointed to the easel of Mendez. *Who has painted this—who has painted this head,gentlennen?'asked Murillo, eagerly. 'Speak, tell me. He who has sketched the Virg'in will one day be the master of us all. Murillo wishes he had /lone it.—What a touch! what delicacy! what skill! Mendez, my dear pupil, was it you?' 'No, senor,' replieJ Mendez, in a sorrowful tone. ♦Was il you, then, Isturitz, or Ferdinand, or Car-loer -- But they all gave the .same reply a; Mendez. 'It could not, however, come here without hands,'' said iturillo, impatiently. 'This is certainly a curious afluir, gentletnen,' obsaived Murillo, 'but we shall soon know who is • hit nightly visitant. Sebastian, he continued, addressing a mulatto boy about fourteen years old, who appeared at his call, 'did I not desire you to >leep here every night?' 'Yes, master,'said the boy, with timidity. 'And have you done so?' 'Yes, master.' ♦Speak, then; who was here last night and this norning before these gentlemen came? S|)eak, slave, or I'll mahe you acquainted with my dun-;ieon,' said Murillo angrily to the boy, who contin-ed to twist the band of his trowsers without reply-iiig. 'Ah, you don't choose to answer^'said MuríHo, pi'lling his ear. 'No one, master, no one,' replied the trembling Sebastian with eagerness. 'That is false,'e.vclaimed Murillo. 'No one but me, I swear to you master,' cried the mulatto, throwing himself on his knees, in tho mid-lie ofthe studio, and holding out his little hands in supplication before his master. 'Listen to me,' pursued Murillo. 'I wish to know who has sketched this head of ihe virgin,|and all the figures which my pupils find every morning here on coming to the studio. This night, in pince of going to bed you shall keep watch; and if by to-morrow you do not discover who the culprit is, you shall have twenty-five strokes frOm the lash. You hear—I have said it; now go and grind the colors; and you gentlemen to work. It was night, and the studio of Murillo, the most celebrated painter in Seville—his studio, which during the day was so cheorful and animated, was now silent us the grave. A single lamp burned upon a marble table, aud a young boy, whoso sable hue hormonised with the surrounding darkness, but whose eyes sparkled like diamonds at midnight, lent against an easel. 'Twenty-five lashes to-morrow it I do not tell who skeiched these figures, ond pehnps more if I do. Oh, my God, comu to my aid!'und the Ii;^lc mulatto threw himself upon the mat which served him for a bed, where he ?oori feel fai't a-sieep. Sebastian awoke at daybreak; it was only tine« o'clock; any other boy would probably have gone to sleep again, not so Sebastian, who hud but Jiliree hours he could call his own. 'Courage, courage, Sebastian,' he exclaimed, as he shook himself awake;'three hours arc thine -only three hours; then piofil by them; the rest belong to thy master—slave. I^ol me ul least be my own master for three hours. To begin, these figures must be effaced,'and seizing a brush, he ap-prached the virgin, which, viewed by the Bofi light ofthe morning dawn, appeared more beautiful tliun ever. Efface this! he exclaimed, 'eflacc this! No; I will die first. Efface this—they dare not—neither dare I. No—that head—she breathes—she speaks—it seeij^^ if her blood would flow if I should offer to effa^OT^ and that I should be her murderer, no, no, rather let me finish it.' Scarcely had he uttered these words, when, seizing a paletle, he seated himself at the easel, and was totally absorbed in his occupation. Hour after hour passied unheeded by Sebastian, who was too much engrossed by the beautiful creature of his |>en-cil, which seemed bursting into life, to mark the flight of time. 'Another touch,' he exclaimed;'a sofk shade here—now the mouth.—Yes, there! it opens those eyes—they pierce me through!—what a forehead!—what delicacy! Oh my beautiful-, and Sebastian forgot the hour, forgot he was a slavo, forgot his dreaded punishment-all, all was obliterated from the souI'of the youthful artist, who thought of nothing, saw nothing, but his beautiful picture. But who can describe the horror and consten: >-lion of the unhappy slave, when on suddenly turning round he beheld the whole of the pupils, with his master at their head, standing beside him? Sebastian never onoe dreamt of justifying himself, and, with his palette, in one hand, and his brushes in the other, he hung down his head, awaiting in silence the punishment he believed he justly noerited. For some moments a dead silence prevailed, for if Sebastian was confounded at being caught in the commission of such a flagrant crime, Murillo and his pupils were not less astonished at the discovery they had made. Murillo having, with a gesture of the hand, impost silence on his pupils, who could hardly restrain themaelves fVom ^iving way to their admiration, approached Sebastian, and coooealing his emotion, said in a oold and sever« tone, while he looked alterhatelv from the beautiful head of the virgin to the terified slave, who stood like a atatue before him. 'Who is your ntaater, Sebastianf •You, replied the boy in a voice scarcely audible. '1 mean your drawing master said Murillo. 'You, aenor,' again replied the trembling slavo. ♦It cannot be; I never gave you lessons,^said the aatoniahed paintor. •But vou g«i4 toaiberh, and I listened to them,* rejoined th« boy, Mnboldeited by the kindneaa of bis master. •Aud have done better than listen; you hawe pro-fttted by them,^ exclaiaoed Murillo, unable lonj^r to conceal hie admiration. 'Cienllemen, does ihM boy merit puninbmentor r«w«ik4t' No, At tho word punishment, Siibnstiaii*« heart bmt quick; the word reward gave him a little eobrage« but fearing thnt his ears deceived hin» ite looked with timid nnd imploring eyes toward» hia maaterv 'A reward, senor,'cried tho pupils in a hreatlu 'That is well, but what shall it bef Sebastian bcgiui to breathe. ♦'Ten ducats, at least,'» sawl .Mendc?i. "Fifteen," cried Ferdinand. •No,' said Goiizahs a beautiful new dress for the next holiday." 'Speak, Sebostian,' said Murillo, looking at his slave, whom nono of tliese rewards seemed to move, 'are these things not to your taste? Tell me what you wiah for; fntn so much pleased wiih your beautiful composi'ion, that I will grant you ony request you may make. Speak, don't be afraid.' •Oh master, if I dared—' and Sebastian, claspioa his bands, fell ni the feet of his nuster. It wae easy to read in the half o|)ening lips ofthe boy« and his sparkling eye.«, some devouring thought within^ which timidity prevented him from uttering. VVith the view f>f encouraging, hin», each of the pupils suj^festeJ sumo fifivor for him to demand. 'Conne, take courage,' said Murrillo, gaily. 'The master is so kind to-day,' said Ferdinand« half aloud, t wouUi risk something, ask your free-dom, Sebastian.' At these words Sebastian uttered aery of an-» guish, and raising his eyes 10 hii master, be exclaimed, in a voice choked with sobs, «the freedom ofiivy ftttlMrT •And thine ulso,^ said Murillo, who no longer a-ble to conceal his emotion, threw his arma around Sebastian, and pressed him to his breast. ♦Your pencil,' he continued, shows that you hav« talent; your request proves that you have a heart; ihe artist is oomplete.—From this day cooaidar yourself not only as my pupil, but as my eon. Happy Murillo! 1 have done more than paint—I hava made a painter. Murillo kept his word, and Sebastian Gomez, lietter known under the namu ofthe Mulatto of Murillo, became one of tho most celebrated patotera in Spain. There may yet ba seen in the churebea of Seville the celebrated picture which he had bean found painting by his master; also at St. Anoe, admirably done, a holy Joseph, which is extremely beautiful; and olhers of the highest merit. ChaihbtT^t Edhiburg Journal. To THE L.ÍDIE3.— The knotting Squaw.—Actions by young ladies for brcach of promise, we had thought to bo one of the perfections of British civilization. Hut what post in the world is not nowciv-ilized, or about to be dviliz»Kl? In half a doxen years more, the imnnersof mankind, from Chili to Constantinople, will be as smooth us a bowling groen. In the Illinois lately, a yo'ing iudiun fair or brown oneof some distinction in ihe woods, made her coifi-plaint to an old chief of tho fuith {lossnsf s of her betrothed. The squaw asserted that she had no sooa-or madn up her mind to the marriage, than the young chief turned on his heel, and choae to marry sombody else. Tho caso was brought bafore tho heads of tho tribe. Tho matter was regarded as touching the public honor, ond the old warriors held a grand council on the subject. As aoXMigst the Indians there are ynt no proteased lawyers, justice is not quite so tardy as in more aocom-plUhed countries and the case was pleaded by the squaw herself. It consisted of statements of the frequent visits ofthe young warrior to the wigwam} of his smoking a considerable quantity of her fa-* ihei's tobacco and eating their venison whenever he could get it; tlioso attentions to himself being connected with frequent attentions to the lady, th« statement being corroborated by several bunebas of feathers; yards of Welch flannel, three fox tails and a scalp. The lover was then called on. He denied the charge of the ufiections altogether« With, an air which could not be exceeded by tbo air of a man of fashion, he said he had Visited her iktbar'a wigwam, he had done it when he had otrthiogalse to do, when the beavers were not to be found, or the Buffaloes wore gona. As to 'the feathers and flan-neU" he acknowledged he had given them, but had given them as mere nuitters of civility. As ba concluded his s()eech the squaw gave a loud scream, and fainted in the arms of her mother. The old Chiefs proceeded to judgment, and whether guided by the justice of the case, or touched with the sufferings of the fcquaw—brought in a verdict of dam-ngcs, sentencing the oflTender to give the broken hearted fair one—a yellow feather, a broach .that was then dangling from his nose, a dozen beaver skins. The keutenre was no sooner pronounced than the squaw, recovered from her swoon, sprang on her feet, clapping her hands with joy,'now I am ready to court again.' "is HE RICH 5" Many a sigh is heaved—many a heart is broketi many a life is renrlered miserable by the terrible infateaiion whii4i parents ol\en manifest ir^ choosing a life companion for iheir daughters. H'^w is it (Kwsiblu for hajq^neu to result from tba Q'ajoa of two principles so diametrnally opimsita W, aedi other in every |>oint as virtue is to vicef «01 how often is wealth conaideied a better Yaeoimnen-dalion to a young man than virtuef Ai^ljatliow often is the first question which is rsspaatitiJ lbs suitor ofthe daughter« this: ♦ia rioM*^^ It he rick} Yen, he abounds Ir, J that aflTordjiny evidttice that l*.e will «ak« m kbd and aflTvvtionate husband f 1$ h0 rich} Yes! his ch»lbir.g ¡, purple and «ae linen, and he fairs sump'.uou^ly every cny }** hut can you infer from this i|»ii h ^ is virlueuat isAsricA! yes) k« ims thouaands flat Jag mi every ocean, but d^ ao( riohes MNnetimaa «MAe H» themaelves mogK and fly away f will jro« aaosaiii that your dai:,g)iiar shall marry a maa ibatiMM Bothing to taoommeod him but his wealtliK-Ali! hewar«, the gilded bait sometimes cavara a Wrhad hook. Ask not then *h k4 rkkT Wt is Im vnmwraf Ask not if he has wealth, hut if Im has lM»erf aad not sacrifiao your daughter^ | eaoa (br ;

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Publication: Bloomington Post

Location: Bloomington, Indiana

Issue Date: November 2, 1838

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