VOL. VIII.
TECE . PEOPLE'S JOURNAL.
PCSLISEUED RYERY THURSDAY ilonxtrio, BY
ADDISON AVERY.
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eStlect Vottrp.
LIFE'S BETTER NOICEBTS
I
T,ife has its moments.
Of beauty and bloom ;
But they hang like sweet roses
On the edge of the tomb.
Blessings they bring us,
As lovely as brief;
They meet.us when happy,
And leave us in grief.
Hues of the morning
Tinging the sky,
Come on the sunbeams,
And off with them fly.
Shadows of evening
Hang soft on the shore ;
Darkness enwraps them,
We see them no more.
So life's better moments
In brilliance appear,
Dawning in beauty,
Our journey to cheer.
Round us they linger,
Like shadows of even;
Would that we like them,
Might melt into heaven
KY BEST FRIEND
They gave me advice and counsel in store,
Praised me and honored me more and more;
Said that I only should 'wait awhile,'
Offered their patronage, too with a smile.
But with all their honor and approbation,
I should, long ago, have died with starvation,
Had thore not come an excellent man,
Who bravely to help me along began.
Good fellow !he got mo the food I ate, -
His kindness and care I shall never forget;
Yeti cannot embracc hiin,though othcr folkscan
For I myself am this excellent man!'
"FORGIVE HIM."
DT SYLVANC.S COBB, JR
"Forgive him !" said Mrs. Stearns.
"0, Lowell, forgive him !"
The speaker was an aged woman
and a widow. Her head was white
with the frost of years, and her mild
features were deeply marked by the
hand of time. There was a tear in
her eye, and her face was clouded with
sorrow. She spoke to her son, a
middle-aged, strong-featured person,
whose countenance betrayed a strong
willed, unbending heart, but yet ap
peared an upright, honorable man.
" Forgive him !" repeated the white
haired widow, as she raised her trem
bling hands toward her son. "He is
your brother. 0, if you know your
own heart. you will forgive him."
" Never !" spoke Lowell Stearns,
in a firm, deep tone. " John has
wronged mo—and I should lie to my
own soul were I to forgive him now."
" And have not you wronged him 1"
asked the widow, impressively.
" I wronged him 1 How 1"
" By withholding from him your
love, by treating him harshly and
causing him to sin," answered his
mother, kindly.
" Cease, mother. When you say I
have caused him to sin, you are mis
taken. He has chosen his own path,
Ind now he must travel in it."
"Lowell, you are the oldest, and
from you should come the love that
can alone heal the wound between
yourself and John."
" Listen to me, mother," said the
stubborn man, with a spice of bitter
neat in his tone: —" John has been
unjust to me—he has been unmanly
and unkind. He has injured me be
yond reparation."
" No, no, Lowell," quickly inter
rupted his mother; " not beyond repa
ration."
"Yes—be has injured my feelings
by.the most fatal darts of malice and
ill-will. He has lied about me to my
friends, and even assailed my private
character." •
" And can you not forgive all this 1"
she asked, tenderly.
" Perhaps I might," returned Low
ell Stearns ; hut," he added, in a
hoarse tone, while his frame quivered
With deep feeling, " he has done me
more than that. He has spoken of my
wife, and But I will not tell it
ill. I cannot forgive him this."
The strong man sank into a chair as
he spoke, and for. some moments his
mother was silent. At length she
approached him and laid her hand
upon his head.
" Forgive him !" she whispered.
"Never!" uttered Lowell.
" Forgive him, and be happy. • Alas,
Tll - E':-'.PEOPL.E!S...:.:_JOE.R7\ - AL.
my son; you are not 'happy. now, nor
can you be, as long .as you are at
enmity with your brother. 0, why
will you let this breach grow wider"
You know .that all this commenced
from a mere misunderstanding be
tween you, and now you .are helping
to make it worse. I know you will
tell me that you• have done nothing to
harin John, but if you will look into
your own bosom, you will find that it
is filled with hatred towards him. He
is more impulsive than you are, but
his heart is as kind as yours, and he is
all generosity and love to his friends.
More than forty years have passed
over John's head, and during all that
time he never spoke one unkind word
lo his poor mother."
And did I ever speak unkindly to
you, my mother 1" asked Lowell, in a
half hushed voice. •
" No, no. You and John had both
kind hearts, and it grieves me sorely
to see you as you are now. - It grieves
me to see you both so unhappy. Ah,
Lowell, I fear that, you do not-realize
how noble -a thing it is to forgive those
who have injured., you."
Lowell Stearns made
. no reply . to
his mother. He saw that he was un
happy, and he knew that he himself
was unhappy also. In former years
he had loved his brother, and be knew
that he had been faithfully loved in
return. The trouble which had so
unfortunately separated them had been
trivial in its beginning, but Lowell's
sternness of will and John's hastiness
of temper had kept the fire on the
increase. The first fault had belonged
to the yOunger brother, but a word of
explanation at the time might have
healed without trouble ; now, how
ever,
the affair had become deep and .
dangerous, and there was but one way
for remedy. That way the aged
mother would point out.
" Lowell," continued Mrs. Stearns,
speaking in a trembling tone, " I can
spend but a few short days longer on
earth. I feel that the sands in my
glass have most all run out; and be
fore I depart, I hope I may meet my
two boys together in love—l hope I
may see them once more bound to
gether in the - sweet bonds of friend
. When you were babes, I nursed
you and cared for you, and I tried to
do a mother's duty ; to make you both
fit for the great world. As you grew
I older, I promised myself a full share
of happiness in your companionship,
and naught came to dim the joy of my
1 widowed heart, till this sad cloud
lowered upon me. 1 love' my chil
i dren—l love them both alike—and
yet they love not each other. Lowell,
niv son, one thing weighs heavily upon
me.. Should this thing last till I am
' dead, then how will you and John
meet by the side of-my corpse ? How
will you feel when you come to—"
Hush, my* mother," uttered the
stout man, trembling like a reed. "Say
no more now. This evening I will
speak to-you.my mind." •
John Stearns. sat in his easy chair
in his own cosy parlor, and about him
were his wife - and children, Every
thing that money could procure to
wards real comfort were his, but yet
he was not happy. Amid all his com
forts there was one dark, cloud to
trouble him. The spot where for
long years ho had nurtured p. brother's
love was now vacant; No, not vacant,
for it was filled with bitterness. Ho
knew that he was in the fault, but be
tried to excuse - himself by- thinking
his brother hated him. This, how
ever, did not ease his conscience, for
he knew that he was lying to himself.
While he sat thus, he heard a rap
at the front door, and in a few mo
ments one of the children told him
that Uncle Lowell wanted to see him.
" Tell him to come in," said John ;
and after this he made a motion for
his wife and children to leave the
room. " I shan't budge an inch," . he
said to himself. "If be thinks to
frighten me, he'll-find his mistake."
Before he could say more, his
brother entered the room.
"Good evening, John," said Lowell,
at the same time laying his hat upon
the table.
John Stearns was taken all aback
by this address, and he could hardly
believe his ears ; but he responded
hesitatingly to his salutation. For an
instant he looked up into his brother's
face, and during that instant there
flashed across his mind a wish that he
had never offended.
" John," continued 'Lowell, still
standing, " you well know what has
passed to make us both *nippy."
"Yes, I know," answered John,
hardly knowing what tone to assume.
"`Yell; my brother," continued
Lowell, while t tear' glistened in hii
eye, and at the same time extending
his hand, " I -have come to:bury the
evil that ha s' risen up between us. If
you have wronged me, I freely for
give you, and if I have been harsh
DEVOTED TO THE PRINCIPLES OF DEMOCRACY; AND THE DISSEMINATION OF MORALITY, LITERATURE, AND NEWS
E1:1
COUDERSPORT, POTTER COUNTY, PA.; JULY 12,.1855.
and unbrotherly towards you, I ask
that . you will forget it. Come, let.us
•
be friends once more."
Like. an -electric shock came this
speech upon the ears of John Stearns.,
A - moment he stood half bewildered,
and then the tears broke forth from
his eyes. He reached forth his hand.
but his NVOI ds were broken and indis
tinct. He. had not expected-this from
his stern brother, but it came like a
heaven-sent beam of light to his soul,
and in a Moment more the brothers
were folded in a warm embrace.
When they were aroused," it was by
feeling a trembling hand laid upon
their heads, and when they looked up
they found their aged mother stand
ing by them.
" Bless you, my children, blessyou,"
murmured the 'white-haired parent,"
she raised her bands toward heaven,
" and 0, I pray God that you may
never be unhappy more."
John Stearns knew that his mother
had been•tho angel that had touched
the heart of his brother, 'and did
not alter his forgiveness.
"0," he murmured, " I have been
very Wrong; I have abused you, my
brother—but if you can forgive me, I
will try to .make it all up."
" Your love will reyay it all, John.
Let me have your love, and I will try
never to lose it more."
" Now I am truly happy," said the
aged mother, as she gazed with prido
upon her sons. ." Now I can die in
peace. 0, my boys, if you would
have your children sure of happiness
in after life,.teach them that FORGIVE
NESS' will heal social wounds which
can be healed in no other way. Many
a heart has been broken from the
simple want of that talismanic power."
Both those brothers tried to bless
their mother for the healthful lesson
she had taught them; and they failed
not to teach it to their children as one
of the boons that-could be given them
fur life.
A GOOD ItECOEMENDATION
"Please, sir, don't you want a cab
in boy?" •
" I do want a cabin soy, nip lad,
but what's that to you? A little chap
like you ain't fit for the berth." -
"Oh, real strong. I can do a
great deal of work if I ain't so 'very
old."
"But what are you here for? You
don't look like - a city boy. Run away
from home, hey?"
"Oh, no, indeed, sir; my father
died, and my mother. is very poor, and
I want to do something to help her.
She let me come."
"Well, sonny, where are vour let
ters of recommendation?" Can't take
any boy without these."
Here was a 'damper. 'Willie had
never thought of its being necessary
to have letters from his minister or
his teachers, or from some proper per
son to prove to strangers that he was
an honest or good boy. Now what
should he do? He stood in deep
thought, the captain meanwhile curi
ously watching the working of his
expressive face. At length he put his
hand in his bosom and drew out his
litile Bible, and without a word put
it into the Captain's hand. The Cap
tain opened to the blank page and
' - read)
".WILLIE GRAHAM:
Presented as a
reward for regular 'and punctual at
tendance at Sabbath School, and for
his blameless conduct there and else
where.
From his . SundaY School Teacher."
Captain McLeod was not a- pious
man, but he could not consider the
case before him with a heart unmoved.
The little fatherlez child, standing
humbly before him, referring him to
the testimony of his Sunday School
Teacher, as it was given in his Bible
touched a tender spot in - the breast of
the noble seaman, and clapping Willie
heartily on the shoulder, he said:
" You are the boy for me; you shall
sail with me and, if you are as good a
lad as I think you are, your pockets
shan't be empty when you go back to
your good mother."
CHARACTERISTIC ANECDOTE.--4DUTilig
the last session of Congress, a man,
well . known as deeply interested in
the Mail-steamer bill, then before .the
house, approached Mr. Benton while
he was walking in Pennsylvania
Avenue, aad said: morning,
Mr. Benton."
The salute was returned. "I see
the mail-steamer, bill up to-day."
"Yes, .sir." "Mr. Benton,- couldn't
you bo prevailed Upon to go for the
employment of more steamers by the
governinentr 'Yes - sir,- upon -one
condition."' The felloW smiled as if
be' was,going to get a , '."lteland": of a
suggestiori for:his "Oliier" of a bribe.
"Aye, ort,one •. condition = that they
could be used to transport suth,rae
cabs as you are to some penal colony 1"
From the N. Y. Tribune
Tanios IN sorra CAROLINA.
CoLuainie, S. C., June 15, 185
Please present my compliments to
the gentleman of the Mississippi Free
-Trtzdei, and' also my sympathies on •
account of the very unpleasant and
unpalatable fact,: that "somebody" in
the midst of that delectable commu
nity will ' the truth, and have it
read too by the million readers of the
"monster" paper of the country. A
Pleasant time may he have, in his
"search after truth"—a novel cruise
to some people.
There is one thing you Northern.
Men quite overlook in your reasoning
upon the vexed questions of the 'day.
You really seem to think that the
new-fangled nation of the earth's rev;
tion is true, when every man can
se "for hiensitif and know that he isn't
turning somersets every day. Rea- -
soning on just such false - premises,
you would try to show that South
Carolina is not the center of the globe,
and that New York, and all the rest
of creation must not, by inexorable
law, perform their mazy dance around
it. The sooner that crotchet is got
out of your heads the better. -
. Would you like a jotting or two
from the cnivalric Statel Perhaps
the conductor of the Mercury will flut
ter like . his Mississippi brother.
. In my travels about the State I
have picked up some facts with refer
ence to the working of the "peculiar
institution" which it may do well to
keep before the people.
Some few weeks ago, in the town
of Chester, York-District, a slave
took it into his head to absent himself
a few days from the scene of his inces
sant and unrequited toil—perhaps to
eve his family—perhaps to recruit his
exhausted strength. Be that as it
may, on his return (a voluntary return"
lam told) his brutal overseer seized
upon the poor wretch, and beat him
till he died. on the spot. The mur
derer left for parts unknown (perhaps)
and the miserable farce was enacted
of getting out a reward fur his appre
hension. Whoever expects that it
I will amount to anything more, prob
ably-reckons without his bout. The
chivalric South Carolinian must let
the world know that he doesn't tol
erate such abuses, but then you know
it is rather delicate business to punish
an overseer for over-zeal in doing"his
duty, or for happening to misjudge in-
regard to the size of his cudgel or the
force of his blow. Chester is on the
railroad from Columbia to King's
Motint where is to be a grand celebra
•tion in October, in commemoration of
the battle fought•there in Revolution
ary times—and to which celebration
President Pierce and his Cabinet are
to be invited I hear. Wouldn't it be
in keeping to send for a Boston D. D.
to officiate as chaplain on the occa
sion? Perhaps the company, by ma
king diligent inquiries in Chester
might learn something further, where
with to add to a new edition of the
"Southern Side," or the argument for
"Squatter Soyereignty" as illustrated
in Kansas. •
One more-case: An old gentleman
in Spartanburg District, a few days
ago tied up a servant girl, for - the pur
pose of flogging her, when her moth
er, who seemed to have some of a
mother's instincts at least, interfered;
there Upon the-enraged master ordered
a slave to hold the mother, and seizing
a bar of iron he aimed a blow at her,
which, had not the slave released • his
hold, thus allowing the woman to avoid
the blow, must have killed her out
right. Renewing his attack with the
same weapon, she seized an ax to de
fend herself, and her son coming to
her assistance, she killed her master
upon the spot. Mother and son are
both to be hung next month, for not
controlling their maternal and filial
instincts , iu the first place, and then
for saving their own lives, even at the
expense of their master's life.. The
master, I was told, was a very pas 7
sionate man, having been often kpown
to abuse his own children shamefully,
even dragging them out of the house
by the hair of their heads. Judge ye,
how kind a master such a man would
make. And yet itis One of the worst
features of the " Patriarchal" system
that the laws of this State place almost
unlimited 'power over'the life of the
elate itrjust such a class of men ; and
they are not few, I can assure you;
Legree has his counterparts by hun
dreds all over this country.
- The above took place hard .by the
Ceivpens, where Northern blood nour
ished•the ".Tree of Liberty" in the
struggle fol.- Independence. Thitik
ye that thesevere the fruits, the• he
foes that fell there were anticipating!
We would advise some of our North 7
i3rii,friends; who ate, so anxious that
4Abietictihs ihottld -rule Americe;' to
journey. through some portion& of the
'upper country' of South. Carolina,
Georgia, &c., where the genuine Na
tive Americans are to be found, the
men . who have, as instruments in
others' hands, ruled America for the
last half-century. • May be they would
go back with a new idea in their
headS, maybe 'sadder and wiser men.'
If they are unable to Make the pious
pilgriniage♦ we recommend for their
perusal some tables in the last census.
Bur what of . the 'signs of the times 1'
is not the time near when the might
and.the right combined are to triumph?
Or is Doughfacedom to cringe a little
longer:? Already the chivalry are
concerting their plans for the next
Congress. It is evident they hear the
breakers ahead. Bully. Butler said to
a friend of Mine, a short time since,
that every Southern Senator and Rep
resentative would go armed to . the
next Congress. We doubt not that it
would be more agreeable to him to
use the Bowie-knife than argument in
another encounter with the gallant
Sumner.. VIATOR.
.1 II
Among the Americans who attend
ed the late ball given at the hotel de
Ville, Paris, was Jack Spicer, of Ken
tucky. Jack rushed the dress some
what strong, and sported epaulette on
his shoulders large enough to start,
four Major Generals in business.=
Jack was the observed of all oliser,
vera, and got mixed up with a party
that his friends could not account for.
Wherever the marshals of
.France
went, there went Jack, and when the
marshals sat down, Jack did the same,
always taking the post of honor. The
day after the ball, Jack called on leis
old acquaintance, Mr. Mason, our
Minister to France, who s tarted up a
little • conversation in the following
manner:
hear, Jack; yoti were at the ball
last night?' -
was, sir, and had a high old time.'
'For which you are indebted, I
.sup
pose, to the high old company you got
mixed up with'? ' By the way, how
come you associated with the mar
shals?' .
'How? by virtue of my office--thoy I
were marshals of Fiance, while I am
nothing else than a marshal of the Re- 1
public. I showed my commission and
took post according,
'By virtue of your office; what do
you mean ?'
'Read that and see.'.
. Here Jack presented Mr. Mason
with a white-brown paper, with a seal
big enough for a four pound weight.
'What in the name of, heaven is
this?'
. 'My commission of 'marshal re
ceived it in 1850, when I assisted in
taking the census in Frankfort.'
'You don't mean to say that you
travel on thiS?'•
don't mean anything else. That
makes me a 'mArshal' of the repulAlic,
and intend to have the office duly
honored.'
Mr. Mason allowed that Jack was
doing a large_business on a very small
capital. - We should not wonder . if the
reader did. 'the same. A census mar
shal of Frankfort mixing in with the
marshals of France is certainly rush
ing matters in a manner that requires
as much brass as epauletts. Jack, we
are happy to say, is pxil3 re
quirements.
DINING AT SEA IN A GALE.—The fol
lowing graphic scene on shipboard is
depicted.by a correspondent of the
Philadelphia Bulletin:
"There is but a step from tho sublime
to the ridiculous, from, the deck to'the
saloon. It is rather too much trouble
for a lazy man to eat on shipboard in
rough weather. It would require a
man to have the hundred. hands of
Briareus and the hundred eyes of Ar
gus, and to keep them all in constant
occupation, too, to dine in safety, to
-say nothing of comfort—for that, un
der the circumstances, is totally out of
the question: You haVe to hold on to
your plate to keep it near you; to hold
on to your glass of water to avoid the
unnecessary. luxury of an extempore
showerbith• to hold on to yourself to
keep yourself at the table; to. hold on
to the table to keep yourself off the
top of it, and away from your neigh
bors. . Besides this, to dodge or defend
yourself, as the case may be, from the
flying dishes that occasionally make
little excursions,otf their own responsi
bility. • A man that can get his victuals
on board a ship'in a storm, can get hie
living anyvibere; ho need have no
fear of the future, so far at least as eat
jag is concerned.",
RENEWED ERUPTIONS of Mount Ire
.SuviuS commenced on the first of May,
When the form of the mountain became
un'distinguiehable. - Nothing could be
seen but dords, smoke;eo fire. . The
scene, it is said, was: rendered, still
irandee by an eclipse of the moon,
which took place nbaut two hours and
a half after midnight.
''. •
CARING FOR STRANGE= IN A STRAW=
LAND
A colporteur who spends a part of
his tune among the emigrants . says,
"This part 'of my work lies very near
my heart, and is very-cheering. An
aged woman said to me as I was dis
tributing tracts, "Man, I cannot read
myself, but give me a leaf and - ,I will
get others to read it to me. • Another
said of a tract she he'd read, 'This
tract'was made for me, it is a balm
Tor my soul.' Another addressing the
emigrants said, 'This man is sent to us.
by a benevolent society.' In - Enropo
we were told that there was no rol
gion, no word'of God in America, but
this man with bii delightful saving
t: utli, has been here twice already.'
" Two-men who were standing in a
wagon, asked ma if:l. was a colporteur
of that society of which we have al
ready heard in Bremen. God has
brought - him to us. Trust in God.
He has always good intentions towards
us.. This circumstance gained me a
great deal. of confidence. I prayed
with the company, and left them
weeping tears of joy. A poor man
with -lour 'children said, 'This Man
brings to many a one, in . . his tracts,
something he never got in 'Germany.
I have been cheered and comforted
by them, and although lam poor,
will pay for !hem.' A 'great field is
open. God grant that the tracts:dis
tributed here, and carried to the far
West, May bring forth fruit."
WHERE shall the poet live?—in soli
tude or society? In the great stillness
of the country, where he can hear the
heart of nature : beat, or in .the dark
grey city, where he can bear and feel
the throbbing heart of man? 1 will
answer for'him, and say,' iu the dark
grey city. Oh! they do - greatly err,
who think that the stars axe all the
poetry which cities have; and, there
'bre, that the pout's only dwelling
should he in sylvan solitudes, under
the greeii roof of trees._ Beautiful, no
doubt, are all forms of nature, when
transfigured by the miraculous power
of poetry, hamlets and harvest-fields,
and nut-brown waters: flowing. ever
under the forest, vast and shadowy,
with all the sights and sounds of hu
man life? What are they but the
course materials of the poet's song 1
Glorious indeed, is the world of God
around us, but more glorious the
world of God within us. There lies
the land of song ; there lies. the poet's
native land. The river of life, that
flows through the streets tumUltuotis,
bearing along so many gallant hearts,
so many wrecks of humanity; the many
homes and households, each a little
world in itself, revolving around its
fireside as a central sun; all forms of
human grief and - suffering brought
into that narrow compass;—and to be
in this, and a part of
.this, acting,
thinking, rejoicing, sorrowing with
his fellow men,stich should be the
poet's life. if he would describe the
world, he should live in the world.- , -
, Longfellow.
INCREASING THE SIZE OF rtAwEns.—:.
From an exchange, we learn that a
horticulturist of the suburbs of -Ver
sailles, in studying the physiology of
the vegetable kingdom, conceived the
idea that the smallness of certain plants
—the violet, for example—was owing
to an atmospheric pressure too great
for their delicate organs. Having
fixed this idea in his mind, the florist
conceived the idea of putting his the
ory into practice. Providing himsel
with a.pinall balloon, repderetl suffi
ciently tight to
, prevent the escape of
any gas, he launched it into the air,
having attached to it a silken cord
twelve hundred meters long. Instead
of a car, the balloon sustained a flow . -
er-pot of Parma violets. This exper-
iment has been going on about two
months, with the most wonderful r;
salts, in the shape of violets as large
as Bengal roses. It is expected dmit
the above expermenti may be turuad
to some account.
-CONTENTMENT.—Is that animal bet
ter that bath two or three mountains
to gaze on than a little bee that feeds
on dew or 'mann4 - and lives upon what
falls every morning from the store.;
houses of - heaven, clouds :and Provi
dance.? Can a man
-quench his thirst
better out of a river than a full., - urn.
or drink better 'from the fountain
which is finely ' paved with marble;
than - when it wells over the 'green
turf?
A Nite.. .
gSt it foe:hooking dat turkey' last
night. .'Alas'r knows it.' "
• Pompey.;--eI didn'thookit.. Wiriet
de • turkey_
mas'i.. 3 l„ Well. . eat 'de . turkey,
didn't I 4 'Well. - - "turkey
part 'l'3'3'Bl" • sOiiiiieft
turkey, but he got • more nigger. I
tell ye do turkey only change places.'
=NM
IMIZEI
NO: 8...