The people's journal. (Coudersport, Pa.) 1850-1857, March 17, 1854, Image 1

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    VOLUME 6.
THE PEOPLE'S JOURNAL.
PUBLISHED EVERY FRIDAY MORNING
BY HASKELL k AVERY.
Terms :
One copy per annum, in advance, $1.0)
Village sultscribersperannurminadvance, 1.25
. R•TRi OF ADVEI27ISING.—One square, Or
t welve lines or less, is ill be inserted three
times for one dollar; for ev( ry subsequent
insertion, twenty-five cents will be charged
Rule, and figure work will invariably be
charged double these rates.
rp"These terms will be strictly ndhercd to.
For the 'People's Journal.
STHAINDED SHELLS.
A little boy roamed
,on the shore of
the for off Paciffic, where it rolls its
sun. bright waves toward the long line of
.. Coast that bounds the Western limits of
the New World. Not far from him was
the site of an ancient ruin, at which
men cavilled and wondered—over which
they built great thories, and spent a
whirldwind of breath to no purpose, for
they buil , them without any of the toil
some and profound research— they talked
without that studious investigation
which is so necessary to the finding out
of any of these time-hidden mysteries
connected with the ruined cities of the
0;d and New Worlds.
Still-near to that little one, stood a
half-built, yet already half-ruined ety
of the.last two hundred years. A min
gled multitude of All the notions of
the earth" crowded that 'changing city,
and their busy hum filled the still air.
But it was faint and far off sound to that
child on the Ocean's shore—so faint and
far ofl it was lost in the hoarse rush of
the ever murmuring waves. It was not
Leon's native land. He first opened
his great wondering eyes beneath the
pale blue of our wintry sky, and the
wind among our mountan pines had
sung his cradle song ; but a few months
to
,young child are longer than many
years to an old man, and so the moun
tain home and the cradle song were half
forgotten dreams of very long ago to
Leon ; and now the tropic sky and
southern tongue were as his own.
The sun drew near his setting and
the thousand leagues of waves were
like fire, and their rays shot through the
air like bundles of shining arrows. The
golden brightness of his northern curls
flashed back the tropic sunlight, and
rlanced'io 'the cool sea breeze. The
world of land " lay green behind"—the
world of waters spread before, and
within lay that strange unexplored
wort lof a little child's ideas. There
were dull pebbles and shining ones
upon the sands beneath his feet, but
brighter than these shone thf stranded
shells strrtvd ever them. One large
b"riuht, winding one caught the eye of
the litt!e wanderer, and he bruAtd away
the sand with his little tiny hand, and
mounted his trophy on his shoulder with
the air of a workman ; shouldering some
hush. load. The opening of its wind
ing chamber turned toward his ear and
the hollow echoing sound, so much like
the pine song of his native land, struck
a familiar chord in his soul—familiar,
yet so near forgotten that he knew no
'cause for its tones seeming so home like,
and so dear. He was to young to think
much but he felt, as children often feel,
that he was in the presence of some
thing as well known as his mother's
voice, yet, so incomprehensible that its
wonderous strangeness seemed oppres
sively vast to his struggling mind.
HHome I Home ? Dark old pines—
Solemn woods sleeping on the , eternal
hills—Deep shaded rivers flocked with
fallen laurel flowers,and windinithrough
narrow, valleys—Noices of a .far-01l
land—Love lit, eyes peeping over the
cradle edge—Flowers as unlike these.
as feeling is unlike passion—Soft winds
that have not brought a thousand legends.
from the4ecrets of old Ocean's floor, but
are full of bird-songs and leaf-wordi—
Does Leon remember the pine-tree cra
dle song of his own land ?"
The sea shell sung no words but its
monotonous voice called up the feeling
belonging to those memories, without
the remembrances themselves. Leon
did not know what it was thus strangely
moved him, and half wondering, half
afraid, he dropped the shell, and when
the song was no longer in his car he
looked up in a sort of bewildered trance
forgetting where he was without know-
THI,..:.PEOPLE'S: - JOtt'i!:H . NAL.
ing why; he wept—and the gleaming
arrow of the sunlight' transfixed his
tears, so that though they filled his Eyes
they did not fall. How strangely looked
that flood of shimmering light to that
half spellbound boy ! Its familiar face
had departed, and it seemed strange and
new. The " rush and recoil" of the
unquiet waters made a sound as of some
giant, wrestling with his monster foe,
who were familiar heroes of oft heard
tales, but whom• he met now for the first
time. So many new sensations filled
him with awe,' and he looked up again
in wonder and surprise, when suddenly
the whole outward world looked like
itself again ! With a long sigh of re
lief as though some burden had been
removed from his spirit, he ran on again,
laughing in his joy of heart, as though
no wonderful and beautiful revelation of
one of the soul's mostanysterious secrets
had not been made4l ) lth.
A few months passed and Leon was
back in his native woods again, and his
vision by the sea side, and the winding
shell with its song of home were alike
forgotten, or buried with old things far
down in his heart as though they were
not there.
Leon grew up to manhood—the golden
curls oh his head grew rich and dark,.
and the wondering, bewildered look of
childhood had changed to the fixed and
glowing light of a man's thoughts and
aspirations. Ile was again far from his
native home; in a great city—jostling
and crowded in the- busiest mart of busy
life—eager, emulotis, ambitious, life's
purposes/were to him as they arc to
others—his only thought: and like
others he mistook too often a worthless
passion for a worthy purpose.
But hours of relaxation come some
times to the busiest man, and one. came
to the young man amid his wrestling
with the world, in his endeavor to rise
abrkve its common tide., He sat alone
one evening in the house of a friend—
the events of the day—the hopes for
to - morrow—dreams—fancies—.lights and
shadows of the past—all floated dimly
and indistinctly through his teeming yet
Hie brain, in one of those delicious rev.
erica which are to the toiling and weary
the Indian summer of the heart. His
eyes were flied vacantly on the mantle
ornaments before him, though he was
unconscious of beholding them ; but as
ellen times much of our lives are `in•
fluenced by things never recognized by
our outward senses or our mentelligence,
so Leon, though unaware of it, was led
by those minute shells to dream of those'
long gone by days when he walked by
the sea side with that mother whose
voice yet haunted his enr with unforgot
ten music. The particulall 'shell on
whicibis eyes were fastened was one
of those singular " freaks of nature"'
which seem to anticipate every contri
vance of man, In this instance the mu
sicians scroll seemed to be transformed
to the varnished exterior of that little
shell. ' Tivas all over written with
those "mistic dots and lines" which
forrri the written language of the "dis
coursers of sweet sounds."
Leon .. had music in his soul" that
night.
They say that the sea shells sing ever
their song of the sea, though they are
borne across mountain and glen—across
desert and teeming land—no matter
where - it might come to lie, the echoes
of the voice of its ocean home would
ever more sigh forth through the hollow
windings of the tinted shell. So, sighed
that hollow music scroll, attuning its
memory-song to the written characters
that marked the instrument. Faint—
uncertain—law—like the spent voice of
an reolian harp, quivered that sea-song
.on Leon's ear, affecting it like same
sights do the vision of clairvoyants, car
rying it away into some unknown or for
gotten region and revealing to if mys
terious wonders, the mind cannot, or at
least does not comprehend, but ,which
the soul ever seeking for a higher and
more spiritual life, seizes and feels and
has faith in, even while listening to the
skeptical caviling of the inte4lect which
calls always for "proof—proof." Leon
was one of those who from habit rather
than nature, was prone to be dissatisfied
'vith every thing which could not render
DEVOTED TO THE PRINCIPLES OF DEMOCRACY, AND THgDISSPMTNATION OF MO4tALITY. LITE'RATURE;AND NEWS
el •••••• • 11 • 95 • '•L; MARCH 17,1854.
a square-and-compass, a bread-and-bat
ter reason for itself. But here he had
prOof of something, he did not know
what—addressed to a part of his own
being of whose very existence he was
alMost unaware. He was one of that
very common class of superior t minds
who confound sensation, feeling, and
passion together, and regard all mere
emotion without some substantial out
ward cause; as unworthy of attention.
He could understand grief at the death
of a friend, after it had happened—that
was visible—substantial—But that dark
ness of the overshadowed - -apirit which
lies under the shade of the coming grief,
he could not believe, for, queried his
matter-of fact common sense, "Where
is the proof that there is such a thing ?"
But though a man of the world, living
for the outward life—the outward pur
pose, the physical, social, and intellectual
good, as all should partly do, and omit
ting*, as none should, the supplying of
the wants of his more spiritual being, he
still had that within him, born long ago
on the Ocean's shore, which has lain
like a dormant chrysalis in hie soul ever
since, which was now " bursting , through
cerement and shroud" like a full grPwn
bu:terfly, whose growth in its narrow
cell had gone on unnoticed till its " time
was fulfilled." Leon did not know,
neither could the wisest philosopher have
explained to him; why it was that sea
writ music-scroll called up the memory
of the dark pine woods, (long since laid
in the dust,) which stood like guardians
huge and tall around his cradle-home.
He could not, tell why sweet, lair faces,
Wreathed around with long, shining
curls, seemed to float before him in a sort
of warm, silvery', blue mist. He had
seen those faces only in
.treasured pid
tures of " the -loved, the lost of other
years ;" and his struggling memory
failed to reach back to the remote tithe
when ,they sung lullabies to the house
hold darling. But now evoktd. from"
their dusky hiding place in the soul,
they come to teach him, even by their
beautiful, etherial presence, a new oF
cessity of his nature, the need of a higher life. .
And- there were other well-re
membered ones, whose faces, despoiled
Of the limo-pkreed wrinkles of Intel'
years, who seemed from their far off
home; to come in life's young beauty as
they came years ago * , and _smile their
deep, heart-gushing tenderness on him,
their much-beloved. All that was good,
and pure, and sweet. in his past life,
seemed to rise up, released from all the
material grossness which had enveloped
and almost hidden it hitherto, and as a
real, glorified presence, stand before him,
and-le - Ict - Teiv in his heart that henceforth
tht i s o would be to hint as a pillar of cloud
aril fire in his life-long pilgrimage
through the world's , unknown wilder
ness, up—always upward toward per
fectian—that " promised land" of the
true spirit's affections
' That Stranded-Shull taught Leon that
night a lesson of life eternal.' E. C. w.
Missionaries.
I I "At a missionary meeting held in the
Mount Vernon Church, Sunday evening,
the handsome sum of $1055 was sub
-scribed in aid of the American Board of
Foreign Missioris."—Boslon Paper.
The thought suggests itself, whether
it, would not *have been as well for said
meeting to have appropriated "the hand
some sum of $1055" to assist in defray.
ing the expenses of missionaries to civ
ilize the people of ttfe "South"? for, in
our humble opinion, a people who sell
their own children (and those 'who
should be their wives) in bondage, stand
as much in need of civilazation as the
Hindoos. Charity should begin St
home ; and after we have civilized and
christianized the heathens and barbar
ians of our own country, it will be time
enough (or us to Jook elsewhere for ob
jects of charity.—.Norristoton Olive
Branch.
Theta's our sentiments.
Not a - bad impromptu was got off by
one McVicker, at the /heater in Chicago,
recently. In the play of the Masquerade
Her, one of the actors handed to Mac a
five dollar bill, as payment for a ticket - to
the ball. He took the bill, examined it
for a moment, and then, handing it back
to him, exclaimed, with that tone and
manner impossible to imitate, " That's
aNebraska Bill! It won't pass here."
A shout of laughter and applause, tvhich
shook the theater, attested the hit he had
made on the anti-Douglas feeling of the
house.
SIP OF THE PUBLIC WORKS.
We have received a copy of the report
•
made to the egislature on this subject,
and have read it with much interest.
We trust the facts embodied in this
report will be scattered broadcast through
the State. The following extract fully
sustains the charge of corruption which '
has been made against the Canal Board,
a nd calls loudly for reform.—[En Joud.
The public debt is estimated by the
Governor at $10,272,2:35 01 The an
nual interest upon this sum, at five per
cent., is, in round numbers, two millions
of dollars. The multifarious .monetary
transactions of the several departments
of the government, complicate the State
finance's, and render it difficult or impos- .
tible for the tax payer to understand
them ; but the -4 whole problem, stripped
of verbiage, for the Legislature and the
people to solve, is, How shall this debt
and interest be met and paid, with least
burthen to.the tax-payers? It is a debt
resting upon the people, for the payment
of which their houses, lands,'and tene
ments, and even their honor and good
faith, are virtually mortgaged. This
interest and debt provided
.for, all the
other obligations of the Commonwealth
would be met Without tax upon real
estate, and a surphis be left in the Trea
sury.
110 W Tll SYSTEM AFFECTS PUBLIC MORALI
The system of public works exercises
an influence more powerful upon: the
morals, and in. some respects, upon the
interests of the people, than the govern=
meat itself. The officials and agents of
the system, whoe name is legion, ex
tend to all parts of the Commonwealth,
—a vast engine of political power, un
known to the Constitution, moved by a
common impulse, and operating upon
the public mind at any time - they arc so
disposed, in State Conventions, and at
the ballot box, in solid column and with
almost irresistible. sway. But it is not
as a dangerous political machine that it
is viewed in its worst aspects, nor as an
exhausting drain upon the public purse;
its malign influences upon the morals of
the community are even .More to be
dreaded than all other evils, and power
fully co-operate in making it a festering
' disease 'Upon the public. At every
stage, complaints have been made of the
extravagance, fraud, and peculation in
the conduct of the works ; arid the most
honorable agents have been stigmatized
• with odium by an indignant public,
smarting under heavybur t
th,n 9 h th o c3 tno
- c h ‘n abuses
hate .
.gene and
Attempts to, reforM, however loudly pro
fessed and honestly made, hare 'been
unavailing to eradicate evils inherent in
the system. Economy, ever regarded
as a cardinal virtue, in public as well as
private agents, has ioo frequently been
treated as a secondary. consideration.
Public servants, whose virtues have
commended them to general esteem, have
not been regarded as the most fining
instruments to discharge the peculiar
duties exiwted of them.
That practices at war with all the es
tablished principles of political economy,
have resulted in debt ; tixation, exirava
gance, mortification,-and disappointment,
is a . misfortune, but cannot be a matter of
astonishment to the people of Ifennsyl
.vania. Thotqandi have expected and
predicted ,such a result from a system
which has set at .defiance all the laws
which govern• business men. Had the
object of the" anomalous .system been to
destroy, and not to build up the revenues
and morals of the State, it could not
have been more ingeniously, devised ;
and therefore it is an extraordinary and
unaccountable fact,"that with a people so.
proverbial for practical intelligence-it was
ever sanctioned and has not long since
been abandoned,
ifAiNTAGEHENT OF THE WORKS.
Whether it is wise for a State to hold
on to the works, and persevere-in a sys•
tem which has broken so many pledges
and so totally failed of just, expectation,
is a matter for the sober and• candid
judgment of those who have to bear the
burthens. Like the unsuccessful gam
bler, the State has been lured on in the
hope of redeeming josses. We haie not
profited by experience, but from year to
year have rushed blindly into new ex
penditures. Every failure has been
followed by the most fallacious calcula
tions to induce further expenditure, and
disappointed hopes by. increased confi
dence.• In the Governor's message it is
stated that in 1852 the work to• avoid
the Allegheny inclined • planes was esti
mated to cost .4 the meagre gUm of
$591,350." It • declares that $950,000
have be, n expended since that time, and
that over six hundred thousand is still
•required. •
The engineer of the . North Branch
canal in 1851, estimates the amount
necessary to complete the work, at
8773,957 87.1 The same message states
that one million of dollars have been
spent, and the Canal Board yet iequire
$171,0b8 to complete it.
These instances are)tdduced aa;apeci-
. 7 ,
mens of the actual cost of construction
compared With estimates. 'lt is believed
they tire not more unfavorable than the
usual average in which the Common
wealth has been concerned. They furn
ith an additional and lamentable proof
that government is and always has been
imposed upon, even by honest agents,
who, by flattering calculations, are ever
anxious to secure the' construction of
works, which, by zeal or interest, they
are apt to over estimate, both in their
value to the public and the return they
will make on the investment.
If we turn from the construction of the
works to their management, we shall
find that the Commonwealth has been
even more 'unfortunate. It is not our
purpose to point - out numerous instances,
or to' heap up evidences of fraud.
The canal board - in 1853, estimate the
working of ;the Allegheny Portage road
at $142,292 35, making due allowance
for old debti. &c. In their report to the
presint session of the Legislature, the
actual expenses are set forth as follows :
Appropriations for 1353; $415,085 04
Debts still dik 215,727 55
Total expe6ses and old debts. $63O,? N t 59
In; 1854 the superintendent of the
Allegheny Portage road
road
that the
cost of wood upon that, road was $18,•
025 22, and he estimates tliig amount
required for, 1852 at $21,835. In his
report for the latter year he states the
cost at $30,097 93; and estimates the
amount required for 1853 at .$30,590.
In his "report tor 1853 he states the total
expenditures for wood for that year (al
though the estimates were only 830,500)
were $70,314 17. -
. We. have; no data by which we can
knotv - whether the full amount of debts
are exhibited in the foregoing. They
serve to show, however, that the esti
mates of cost are uniformly as much too
low as the ;estimates of income are too
high: That the people should not under
stand the operation of ,the public works,
and the causes of the heavy outlays.
may not be: very surprising when the
Canal Board, the agents who have them
in trost. acknowledge their own inability
to expound !the'in.
• Every • allegation of fraud and profii
gaeyalieged against the present system
of manngernent is more .than admitted
'by the last; report of the Canal Board.
Of the expense of managing the Alle
gheny Portage road, in 1853, they say ,
tt " amounted to the enormous sum
of $192.252." In 1842, they say it
~ a mounted:to $102,1p. To this must
be added, however, $a1,332, which had
not been reported by the former Super
intendent, but has since been discovered!"
Again they say : " could the Board
assume that the, amount expended in
1852 was all legitimate, there would be
little chifficulty," &c. " Although the
Board have not been able to detect any
fraud,yet from the very careless manner
i in which business -has been' hitherto /
transacted there, it is. readily perceived
how easy it ;might be to practice exten
sive. _frauds,'and at the same time the
officer be innocent of any corrupt motive.
Take the article of wood for example,
and it cannot be doubted but that the
State has been imposed upon to a large
amount:" .; In consequence of these
fraudsl"- says the Board, " they have
adopted a plan 'which, in the item of
wood,.will save the State twenty thou
sand dollars ! . a year,"
.adding that "a
regard for truth and candor constrains
the Board to'.express - the opinion that at
least forty thousand dollars have been
paid out. for :wood, within the last two
years, for which not one 'dollar's advan
tage has accrued to the Commonwealth."
Such is the confession, in the report of
the Canal Board. Could language more
emphatically
,condemn a system, which,
afar twenty years' expirience, admits of
such abuse?;
In ;what company- or bank, or what
railroad, except that of the State, could
it be possible for forty thousand dollars
to be expended not only without the
knowledge of the accounting officers, but
v withont a dollar's advantage I" Iti is
a matter of congratulation, that a reform,
whereby twenty thousand dollars are
saved in " the single item of woo)," has
be discovered even after twenty years'
experience ! Upon.a short road of thirty
six miles, every dollar expended should
be rigidly accounted for without diffi
culty, and the whole system should be
simple, accurate, and energetic • but for
,
the want of 'such a system, thousands
have been squandered, forty thousand in
a single item—and the Canal .Board,
alluding to • 'such small items, frankly
confess that it is readily perceived how
easy it might be to practice extensive
Er .uds!" Who can tell the full extent
-of imposition on this and other lines.
when it is admitted it is•,so easily prac
tised The e ffi cient management of the
.Portage road, was especially referred to
by the Governor in his message, Jan. 5,
.1853, and ci the Superintendent he took
occasion to say, "certainly a more honest
and devdted public servant could not be
found than the gentleman who euperin
tended the operation of this work for the
NUMBER 44,
past year." If under such an " honed
and devoted" man these things occurred.
what might be. feared if they were in
hands of men less. scrupulous, such as
have sometimes crept into office
The Nebraska Bill lu the louse.
Correspondence of The N. Y. Tribune.
WASIIINGTaN, March 1, 1854.
-There is a way when all other meth
ods- fail in whiCh the consummation of
the Nebraska iniquity cad be prevented,
and this method of defeat
_must be ze
sorted to if it becoines necessary to arrest
the passage of the bill.. The Adminis
tration will put the bill on its direct
passage through the House when it ar
rives from the Senate. At least such is
the existing programme. This will be
met by an effort to lay it on the table,
or, if that cannot be carried, to put it in
to the Committee of the Whole, which
is the court of chancery of • legislation, a
sort of Dismal Swamp, where bills any
way weak in their powers of locomotion
get stuck fast in the mud and morass.
If the measure can be carried in:o the
Committee, very well; if not it will be
come • the solemn duty of its opponents
to league together, and by means of
Cabs of the blouse and motions to ad
joarii arrest all further proceediii - gs upon
the bill until the majority give way.
The minority are. competent to do this,
and it is understood they are contempla
ting such a ;procedure. This course is
extta•legislattve, and only t't be resorted
to on extreme occasions. 13ut that the
present is due that authorizes and de
mands it no map can deny. It may ex
cite hostility and lead to iinpassioaed
scenes in Congress, but this cannot be
avoided. If it should bring on a crisis
or a collision, that cannot be helped.
Better so than that that crisis should
come hereafter, when all may be kit to
the free States. There is now an im•
mense stake in issue. Vast interests
reaching, through innumerable geneta-
Lions are suspended in the balance. To .
act now will be to light a beacon for pos
terity in their hour of trial and of strug
gle. To omit to do it will be to ignobly
surrender the' vantage ground of free
dom, to be recovered only through long
years of effort. To resist now is to save
the citadel. To put off - the evil day
may prove to be but to court the cltaius
of the captive.
It remains for the northern opponents
of the bill to determine whether this one
conclusive thing shall be done when the
extremity shall be forced upon them.
The justification for the act is ample:
The measure is hurried up in the ab
sence of any public judgment upon it.
Its consideration 'entered into thp elec
tion of no ono of the whole two hundred
and thirty-four members of Congress.
It is one of vital consequence, affecting
the interests of millions of the present
t•eneration and million" of future genera. To pass it in view of the appar
ently unanimous opposition to it in the
free States would be an (mune,. It is a
violation of plighted faith, a repiudiation
of a solemn compact, an intasion of
northern rights, a corrquest of free terri
tory. Its opponents have a cleat right,
under these circumstances, to insist on
an appeal to the people. If they shall
Send down a majority to Washington in
favor of the bill, let it pass without fac
tions oppolitton. But until the people
have had an opportunity to vote, let its
passage be resisted to the.uttermost and
without regard to consequences.
This is,a subject which appeals direct
ly to the whole northern mind, to the
press and to the people. Members of
Congress are but men. In , a great
emergency they need the countenance,
the support,and the sympathy of other .
men. If the crisis is to come on the
Islrbraska bill in the manner we have
foreshadowed, let all be ready to accord
that countenance, support and sympa
thy, by word and deed. if the North
has pluck and , backbone, now is the
time to show.it. •
lEME!IMIE!
The Sequel to the plot.
WASHINGTWi, March 0, 1851.
Developments- may soon be expected
which will establish beyond doubt the
fact, that the assertion of the principle
involved in the Nebraska bill is but the
preliminary seep toward the execution
of one of the boldest and most stupendous
conspiracies ever heard of. It - propose/
no less an achievement than the forcible
seizure of Mexico, Central America. tied
Cubi, during the approaching struggle
in Europe, and their conversion into
slave States., Here we have Ike key to
the solution of that most inscrutible po
litical enigma of the times, viz: the me
ti vrs of those who have been most instru
mental iri,springing ibis portentous ques
tion upon the country. It is said that
some of the first men of the Rebuplio
will be implicated and nearly all the
southern leaders.—Tribune.
Good.—At one of the missionary eta!
lions, tho question , 4 What is original
sin ?" being put to an aged Indian chief,
he promptly replied laziness I"