VOL. VII TES PROPLE'S JOURNAL. TEIBLISIIED TNEItY THURSDNY MORKING. BY ADDISON AVERY. Terms—lnvariably in Advance: One copy per &ilium, $l.OO Village subscribers, 125 TERms OF ADVERTISING. 1 square. of 1 . ..! lines or less, 1 ittser;:on, .$0.;30 .> w•er,ions, 1.t,(1 tt every subitequent insertion, .25 Ride and titre work, per sq., ;.; insertions, 3.00 v . , er ,,. ,:aitsequen. insertion, .50 I commit. one year, 25.00 I rolirnn, ,it nunah4, ]5.00 Adtaini,:ricon' or Executors' Notices, 2,00 Sheriii,, Sa.ei, per tract, ].50 I'rofes•inn'tl (2.trd; not exceeding eight lines itt‘er.e. l for iiti.uo per annum. re'.lll letters on ba , iness, to secure at ten ion, •bould be addres- - teti (post paid) to the Pabli,lior. HOPE ur JAMES MONTGOMERY ort, unyielding to despair, Springs forever fresh and fair; Carih's serenest pro peels Hope's enchantments never die At Forune's frown, in evil hour. 'flouttrh honor, wealth, and friends depart, She t.nnor drive. with all her power, Till,. lonely solace front the heart: And while this the soul su4tains. Torture still tinchanr.t ., l remain , : Where o'er her v: he el she guide,, Uope upon the circle rides. • Th Syren:, deep in ocean's caves, Sing, wink abroad the telope.ds roar, E v p ec t:ng s oon the frantic waves To rip'ple on a snViing shore: In the whirlwind, o'er the spray, They behold the halcyon play ; And through midnight clouds afar, Hope lights ttp the morning star. This pledge of in future rears, smooth and easy every toil; The swain who sows the %l is:c with tears; In filmy reap , a teeming soil: IVlrit though Ini!fletv jetit, Frost or flood ht, crops dits:roy, IVar compel les firm to roam. Hope carol, liarve,t Home! The utowireli exiled from his reahn, The slate in fe•ter , a! the oar, The seaman sinking by t r Itehn. The captive on his dungeon floor ; Al . death, Fonds coil o parting breech: Glory. fr e •edluut, power, are past, Ilia ili dreanis . of Hope IVeary and wi h -iekness wom, holle.ond deaf, and hero wall age, Hy Loan the load of life l e: borne, h s 10-L,op of pilz.rhuage: Th 0.1,2% the brineh no longerAioot, Vigor linger.: a: Ole root. .t.I in AVinler . , (Ire iris thy, . /lope ramie, re:arning May, When rung with gnilt. the wretch would end 1k g mom). dlys in sudden night, Hope mate'., an unexpected treed. T,, in hint Earl; in hazed light: Ilidd!" she erie: ; :,1111 rrein his hand ['lurk; the suicid tl brand: Now an art a Kapp er deem, -Hope a ill cheer ;lice to the tomb.- 'hen Virtue droops, a , comforts fail, And , ore afilicnons pr e .: th e m ind, Stvcot !lope prolongs her p:easing tale. Till the worhl again looks ;sil! ; It mind the good ;Imo' , (clog hell. \\Alert , The \vreck of Nature :preach Ilope uniil se: his spirit free. ing—; '•' "NIGUT SCENE IN A PO )3 TV MAUI' 210111TT It was in the middle of winter, on the night of the twenty-third of Jan- , wiry. when the weather w mi-erably cull: it neither decidedly froze, nor did it thaw ; but betxceen the try,, way cm'A and' damp, and p;melrated to every one, even of tho,e tyro sat ip carpeted rut e large fires, and \vete warmly clad. It was on this eveniurr, that the seven little children of I) .vid I hard, tie tt ett Cr, 'stood hadi:le 1 to , ether it, th.:ir small lam m, la. 4 .lire a small tire Nvhich was burning comfortle-sly. The baby lay in the wo, dun cradle on one c orn e r of the hearth. The fire, to be sure, gave suite Warmth, becan-e it bad boiled an iron pot full of potatoes, but it gave very little. cliceriblues , to the room. The mother haul poi firmed out the evening meal—a few potatoes to each —and .hc sat down to the round table, lighting the farthing candle, and was to do some little piece of preparing housewifery May I htir the fire ?' asked David, the eldest lmv. No, no: replied the mother ; it burns away sn titA if it is stirred.' I wish we had a g ood fi re !' s i g h e d Judith, the second girl. ' Ness me r said the mother, it is a good fire. Why, there's dame Grumby and her grandchild gone to bed because they have no fire at all.' ' 1 should like some more salt to my potatoes,' said little Betsey ; may I have some more, mother ?' ' There is none, child,' she replied ; I put the last in the pot.' ! Oh, dear,' cried little Joey, my feet are bo bad—they get no better, mother, though 1 did beat them with holly.' 'Poor thing, I wish I had better times,' said the mother. . -' There's a pair,' said Joey, briskly, 'at Timmy Nixon's for fourteen pence.' ' Fourteen pence,' repeated the mother, it'would take a long time to get fourteen pence.' THE PEOPLE'S JOURNAL g Mat. Willis begged a pair of, nice warm boots,' replied Joey, experi mentally. We will not beg,' said the mother, if we can help it—let me see the shoes;' and Joey held up one of his frost-bitten feet on his mother's knee • Bless thee r poor lad,' said the mother, thou shalt not go to work again till it is warmer.' 'Mother,' interrupted little Susan, ' may I have some bread !' There is no more,' said she, "' but I have a whole loaf vet.' oh- dear, oh dear, how nice !' cried the children, clapping their bands ; ' and give Joey the bottom crust,' said one, . because of his sore feet.' ' And give me a big bit,' cried Su san, holding out a little fat hand. • The mother divided the loaf, setting aside a piece for her . hutband ; and Presently. the husband came. It rains, and is extremely cold,' said he, shivering. ' Please God,' rejoined the mother, ' it will he warmer after the rain.' David Baird was a tall, thin man, with an uneasy look ; not that he had any fresh cause of uneasiness—his wages were not lowered ; his hours of labor were not increased ; nor had he quarreled with his master ; but the life of a poor man is an uneasy life—a life of care, weariness, and never end ing. anxieties. What wonder then if his face had a joyless look 1 - The children made room 'for their father by the fire; Susan and Neddy placed themselves between his knees, and his wife handed him the portion of supper which had. been set aside for him. Mary, the eldest girl, was sitting on a box, feeding the squirrel with ,the bread her mother had given her—she was very happy, and kissed the squir 7. rel many times ; Judith was sitting beside her, and David held the cup out of which the squirrel drank. Nobody has • inquired after the squitt el,' said the -Other, looking at them. • No,' replied Mary,' and I hope nobody will.' They will not now,' said the younger David, for it is three months since we hound it.' We might sell it for half a crown,' . said the Either. Mary looked fright et el. and held the squirrel to her bosom. ' Joey's feet are very bad,'remarked the mother. • And that doctor's bill has never been paid,' said the father—' seventeen shillings and .ixpence.' ' 'Tis more money than we can get in a weekf sighed the mother. • • I go rotted by the back lane to avoid passing the door,' cried the father ; ' and be has asked me for it three We will get it paid in the summer,' rejoiued the mother, hopefully-; but c 4 als are taieed, and ,bread, they say, will rise before the week is out.' Lord help us exclaimed the father, internally. Mary, fetch the other candle,' cried the mother, as the farthing candle burned low in the stick and went out. There is not one,' replied Mary ; we bunt out. the other last night. ' Have you a fat thing,David ?' asked the wife. • Not ore,' replied he, rather hastily. 'Nix have we one in the house,' said the wife ; paid all we had for bread.' Stir up the fire, then,' said David. Nay,' rejoined the wife, coals are rai,ed.' 'Lord help us!' again sighed Da vid, and two of the children began cOughing. Those children's coughs are no better,' remarked the father somewhat impatiently. And the baby woke and so did Betsey, who had fallen asleep on the floor unobserved, crying, am cold, mother !' 'Go to bed with her, Mary,' said the mother, for we were up betimes, washing—put up your clothes on the bed, and keep her warm.' Mary went into the little chaMber to bed with her sister, and her mother tried to hush the crying infant. David was di,tracted. He was cold, hungry, weary, and in gloom. Seven children whom he loved were about him, but he thought of them only as born to poverty, uneasiness, and care, like himself—he felt un happy, and grew almost angry as the baby continued to cry. Cheer up, David, honest man there is that coming now—coming within three streets' length of thee—which will raise thee above want forever ! Cheer up ! this is the last hour you shall want for a fire ; the last horn• you hall want for - a candle light.. Thou shalt keep thy squirrel, Nary ! Betsy, thou shalt have blankets to warm thee! The doctor's bill shall be paid—nor l3iard, shalt thou ever again skulk by back ways to avoid an importunate creditor, Joey, thou shalt turn the DEVOTED TO THE PRINCIPLES OF DEMOCRACY, AND THE DISSEMINATION OF MORALITY LITERATURE, AND NEWS COUDERSPORT, POTTER . COUNTY, PA., FEBRUARY 8, 1855. wheel no longer; thy feet shall get well in woolen stockings, and warm shoes at five shillings' a pair ! You shall no more want salt to put on your potatoes, nor shall Susan- go short again of her supper ! - But of this,,as yet, you know nothing about the re lief—and such relief, • too,. that even now is approaching your door ! Wail, little baby, and thou wiltnurse thy poor feet, Joey, by the fire ! and muse in • sadness on . thy poverty, David Biard. yet a few - mornems longer ; it can do uo harm, for the good news is even now tuning the corner of - the street. • KnOck, knock, lcnock ! , David starts • from his reverie. • Some one is at the door!' said the wife, and up jumped little David: 'lf it is.-..neighbor \Vood come . 'j.o borrow some meal, you can get her a cup full,' added the mother, as the knock. was repeated more hastily. Up rose Biard, and thinking of the apothecary's bill, opened the door reluctantly. • -Are you David Biard ?' asked the letter carrier. - • am,' said David. ' This, then, is for you . ; and there are twenty-two pence to pay on it,'! said the man, holding forth a large letter. It is a summons !' cried .the wife in dismity ; "for what is David Biard summoned'?' and she rushed to the door with the baby in her arms. It is not for me,' said-David, half glad to escape his liability to pay the two-and-twenty pence. But are you not David Biard, the weaver'!' . I am;' said David. Then,' continued the letter carrier, pay , me the twenty-two pence, and if it is not right, they will return you the money at the — postioffice.' 'Fwenty-two pence V repeated Da vid, ashamed to confess his poverty. • One shilling and ten pence,' said the wife; we have not so much money by us, good man.' • Light a candle,' said the letter carrier; bursting into the house, and hunt up what you have.' David was pushed to extremity - . 'We have none,' said he ; we have, no money to buy a candle.' Lord-bless me said the letter carrier, and he gave David the younger fourpence to feteh a half a pound of candles. David and his wife knew not what to think ; and the letter man shook the-wet from his hat. In a few moments the candles came, and the letter was put into David's hand. Open it, can't you f' said the letter man. 'ls it for . me ?' inquired David agaih. It is,' replied the other impatient ly; what a fuss is here about opening a letter.' sighed 'the wife, if after all it should not be for us! But read the letter, David; and David read it: Sir—You, David Biard, the weaver of—and son of the late David Biard, of Mardendon, Wear, lineal descend ant of Sir David Biard, Monkshaugh toll Castle, County of York, and sole heir of Sir Peter Biard, of Monks haughton afbresaid, lately deceased, arc requested to meet Mr. Dennis, Solicitor at York, as soon after the receipt as possible.: It will be neces sary for you to bring your family with you, and to cover traveling expenses, you will receive enclosed a bill fbr one hundred pounds, payable at sight. I have the honor to be, Sir,. Ypur bumble servant, J. SMITU, for Mr. DENNIS. Sure enough,' said David, David Biard, of Mardendon, Wear, was , my 0, 0!' chuckled out little David, as he hopped about behind the group, a liundred pounds and a castle !' Heaven be praised !' ejaculated the wife, while she hugged the . baby in her arms. continued David, the great Sir David Biard was oui• ancestor, but we never looked' for anything from that quaiter.' . • Then the letter is foriyou ?' asked the man. - It is. Please Heaven to make us thankful for it,' said David, seriously ; hesitated" he, you want that money No,' said the letter carrier, going _out, I'll call for that to - -morrow: Bolt the door after the man ; this money requires safe kreping.' . Mend the fire,' said the mother, and her son David put on e ' a shovelful of coal, and stirred up the ashes. Kiss me, my child"!' exclaimed the father, with emetion ; kiss me, and bless God, for we shall never want bread again!' - 'ls the house on fire?' screamed Mary, at .the -top of the stairs, 'fur there is such a blaze!' 'We are burning a mould candle!' said Judith, 'and such a big fire!' 'Come here, Mary,' said the father, and Mary slipped down stairs, wrapped in an old cloak. `Father!s a rich man, We're. all rich—and shall live in a grand castle!' laughed young David. We shall have coats, and blankets; and stockings, and shoes !' cried little Joey, all alert, yet still remembering his!frest-bitten feet. • We shall have beef and plum pud ding !' said St-:an. We shall have rice puddings every day.!' cried . Neddy. David Siard'was again distracted ; but how different were his feelings; he could have done a thousand ex travagant things he could have laughed, ctied, sung, leaped about, nay, 'rolled on the floor fbr joy ;- but' be did none of these—he sat calm, and looked almost grave. At length be said, Wife,- send the children to bed, and let us talk over our good fortune together.' You shall have your Sunday clothes . on to-morrow,' said the happy mother, as she sent them up stairs. To bed they_ went, and after a, while they laughed themselves to sleep. Correspondence of the Jourritd "!.P.P.EACHING POLITICS." A few days since a number (Oct. 4, 1854,) of the-Highland Patriot, a po litical sheet published at Couderspor, Potter Co., by DeWitt C. James, ac-1 cidentally fell into my bands, in which .l the seemingly pious and Christian edi- tor, in an article headed "The Clergy," exhibits his meek and Christian spirit a pious rebuke of three' thou Sand clergymen of-New England, and twen ty-five clergymen of Chicago; for "pro testing in the' name of Almighty God, against the passage of the Nebraska and myself in particular, for preaching a sermon on the evils of the ''Fugitive Slave Law, the Nebraska I Bill, and time Aggressions of Slavery in general," in a manner, to use bis . l • • own language, "worthy of the chief of Remagogucs." I use this last expres sion " demagogue," simply to slimy hoW: easily, and with what equal force the only argument lie has brought against the Northern clergymen, and against me in particular, can be turned against himself. Calling hard names, the only argument some individuals seem seem capable of using, is a two-edged sword that cuts both 'ways, without deciding anything. 'When one uses it, whether against me or any body else, it always 'makes me think of the little _boy who had • been flogged by his stronger associate, and finding, that he could not obtain revenge by returning the compliment, turns and says, "1. - au are a mean dog, and rlimake faces at your sister." But before I proceed to notice other things in the article alluded to, permit . me to thank yon for publidting (very unexpectedly to me) in the Peopll 7 's Journal, the sertmin - for preaching which .1 am denounced as the " chief of demagogues ;'' so that some of the people of Potter could judge sor theta selves how well the title was melited. Had the editor of the Patriot done the same generous thing, and laid the entire 'discourse before his readers, and then showed wherein its princi ples were wrong, and its positions false ; and hall he given any good rea sons, backed up by-Scripture testimo ny and example; why the " clergy " should not speak on the Sabbath day, and.in the pulpit even, of wickedness in high places as well as low ; why they should not rebuke public as well as private sins ; why they should not teach and persuade men to be Chris tian in their political action, as well as: at prayer meetiiigt:—l should have been saved these remarks. The truth is only what 1 am striving for: But to the article in question. It commences by stating what the editor calls a " lamentable " fact ; but which I shall term a very ominous, cheering, and important fact ; for a fact most surely it is. "A large portion" of the Northern clergy have seen and felt the evils of political gambling—they have observed the recklessness and wicked ness of some portions of the legislation of this government ; they have seen humanity and right trampled beneath 'the iron heel of oppression and Wrong, until conscience and truth obliged them to speak out, and condemn the political action ana the legislation of this country in some very important iesPects, us anti-Christian, oppressive, and cruel, entirely ignoring the best interests of the peoplesins which all God's ministers have condemned, both in the Old and New Testament. And the way they have been sustained by. Northern action of hie, shows that they have been " content with the ex elusive occupation of the field of the ology which is •conceded to them by the people." Yes, my Christian bro— ther of the Patriot, a large portion" . of the Northern clergy, as well as the People, have yet a conscience and a courage to speak for justice, truth; and right--a " fact " which no lover of God and man should " lament,'! nor to which he should attribute "the tide of infidelity that is sweeping . over the land." That stream has its source in some other fountain. If to preach. against oppression and the wrongs of government—if to rebuke the' sins of political intrigue, deception, and meanness, makes a person a " dema gogue," then were Isaiah, Jeremiah, Daniel, PUul, and Jesus, demagogues. What says Isaiah to his nation ? "Cease to do evil, learn to do well; seek judgment, relieve the oppressed. Thy princes are rebellious, compan ions of thieves; every one loved' gifts, and follovieth after. rewards: judge not the fatherless, neither cloth the . cause of the widow come unto them. I will restore thy judges as at the first, and thy counselors lat the beginning; afterward thou shalt he called the city .of . righteousness, the faithful city," Was Isaiah the "chief (if demagogues" for declaring these truths ? And Jeremiah says, "Tcr • among my people are found wiclzed men : they lay"Av'ait as lie that setteth• snares : they set a trap, they catch men." And what better than this does our Government ? It sets the worst kind of traps—the trap of porpetull bondage. But a clergyman' must say nothing abOut it, lest he 'leave the field of theology, conceded to him hy the people." and appropriate to him- Self the field of politics also ;' and then lie is demagogue.' I might quote also from David, and Paul, and Jesus, bearing on this'point. They all rebuked the-sins of mankind, whether committed in a civil or social, public or private capacity ; and ac cording to the .Patriot's definition, they were • political preachers.' Well, -I certainly do not feel slan dered by being placed in such con:- pant But I must comment upon one more thodest assertion of my brother of the Patriot. He says: . With these po litical preachers' —viz.: the three thousand clergymen of New-England, and the twenty-five clergymen of Chi cago, and myself--' the injunction of St. Paul to know nothing among the people 'save Jesus Christ and him crucified,' has. become an 'obsolete idea,'' Now if the brother will re flect a moment, he will see his mis take. Let me interpret Paul in this passage, and make the application, as I certainly have as good a right to do as he has. Paul meant by knowin , nothing among the people save Jesus Christ: and - him crucified,' that he would know no principles of action, and rules of life and conduct, but such .as Christianity affords, and to estab lish Wiri'ch, Christ suffered crucifixion. That these • principles and rules are applicable to all the relations of life, and all conditions of society, and that he *Old teach them everywhere, on Sundays and week days, to the people, and to islators,. the serrants of the people; but nut their masters. And he explains himself in another place, .wherelhe says : Whether, therefore, t or drink, or whatever ye do, to the glory of God,' just what ge portion' of the Northern have been teaching the people sing upon no place or day as tug ) be occupied in teaching, illus ., and applying the precepts . of Now, • I know not in what ye ea! do all a 'laij clergyl --100 holy t l tratin_ Chritut school the Christian editor of the Patriot !pay have studied his theology, nor with what church his pious incli nations may claim dffiliation ; but one thing is very evident—he has studied but little in the school of Christ, since he has one set of religious 'principles, for Sundays, and another .for week days—since he knowS nothing but Jesus Christ at the prayer meeting! only, and knows nothing at all about mini at the ballot.:box, or in political or legislative action. In other words, he would have men "be ChriStians cverywhere excepting only where Christianity is the most needed, and where it would do the' most good to 'be a Christian. He would doubtless lit'enivith rapture to sermons discant ing upon the wickedness of the ancient Jews, "and of the awful depravity of Ole heathen in lndia and Hindoostan. his seat at church would)doubtlessbe comfortable and easy under a dis course upon faith and angels; but-to }:reach upon home duties, integrity, good works,' the relations of man to ( ud, of men to each other—to expose individual and secial Wrongs; in fine, to apply • Christianity to every-day life, would make his seat a hatchel. No, no, my dear friend of the Pat riot, large portion' of the Northern clergy' do not like your theology, nor yohr Christianity ; neither do they mean to be content with the exalt t.ive occupation of the field oftheology, which is conceded to them by tho people,' if you call yourself the people. We do not go to the people and ask, them what We shall preach, what sine to rebuke, and where, and what sins to countenance, and u•hi•rc; but We learn cur theology from ,the Bible, fro:O . Nature, from Truth, Justice, Right . ; llumanitv, Christ, and GOD.. But the article which commences with a lamentation, closes with_re joicing. The panacea for the writer's grief is found, not in a vegetable ex tract; but in an extract from the min- tiles of the session held at Warwick, June 7 184' in which a few Not th ern clergymen, dissenting from large portion' of the clergy •of the North,' give in their adhesion to op ptession, and the 'aggressions of Slavery. .we are glad he ha's some friends, even if they arc few; for {v ithout sympathy, this would be a dark and dreary world. In conclusion, We would also recom mend to' the special attention of the editor of the Pairioi and his co-work the following paraphrase of the •Iludibrastic Effusion,' frorri the (,llass) Cheshire Reimbliran `•TIIJi NEBRASKA BILL •"Thi , i'wonderfl Nebraska bill has wrought A nvirae!e that ne'er was seen or thought t • Theptditicians of the }mum bloodhound breed AV ho in Oppression's came have e'er agreed, And ever will a g ree—that Fll be sworn— 'l'd! the last tedirorn Time's old book is tarn, Ilave tuned their throats to one harnion:ons strain, And draw together both bit and rein. ion ne'er con!d bind them in nne tether, Hut love of gain has brought these rogues together, And knit them, not by love of others, Bat demon hatred of their hitmau brothers." ilWe yield to none in. sentiments of respect and reverence for the wit-:e institution of civil-goVernment. Tho griod it has conferred - on mankind can tics cr be estimated in this world. But at the same time, we feel that we should hu recreant to public - justice,' to hu: manity, and to God, g did we fail to Amur,' in the pulpit, ' the voice of con-- demnation on the prostitutiOn of its saryed office to- the base objects of human oppression and slavery propa- AI.VIN Coauns. on Springs, Cayuga Co., N. Y. gandism ' Sum , s rots SmoKens.—Estimating the cost of good cigars at one dollar a week and computing compound interest, at sever per cent, front the age of fourteen, the cost at twenty years of age would be 39702 ; at : 30, $1537,:i4 ; at 40, $3606,69 ; at. 50, $71314,70; at 60, $17,201,32; at 70, F 531.05,51; at r;:'0, $70,341,65. The cost to lteahlk and morals cannot be computed. Why not let chimneys, and furnaces, and . - locomotives do the smoking ? ►imestone is abundant in every part of Kansas Territory. So is clay for brick,andlhat of the best quality. NO. 38.
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