VOL. VIII THE PEOPLE'S JOURNAL. YOBLISIIED NYF.RY TRUTISDAY MORNING, BY ADDISON KVEItY. Terms—in Advance: • One copy per annum, $l.OO Vißago subscrillas, 1-25 .TERMS or ADVERTISING. 1 square, of It 2 lines or less, 1 insertion, $11.50 - a in.ser:ions, 1.50 " every sub.zetpient bewrtion, Rule and figure work, per sq., 3 imicrtion, , , 3:10 Every sub , eqac illset-Cm:l, 50 1 coltonn, one year, ')i.lo 1 column, six monllis, )5.00 Adniiii:tralors' or Executors' Notices, b.:.00 Sheriff's Sa!es, per tract, 1.50 Professional Card. no: exceedlng eight lines inserted ler $7).00 per anoint. All loiters on busino3., to centre tension, should. addresed (post paid) to .the Publisher. SPES EZT VATES There is a dogma of the ancient. sages ; No noble human though!, However buried in the dust of uge3, Can ever come to nought With kindred faith that knows no base dojee- IME Beyond the sages' scope I ace afar, the final re:oirec:ion Of every gloriotti It Te! I see, as preel of a new creation, ° The beatiffie hear When every bad of lofiy a , Tiritlon Shall blo , sum flower,. We are not mocked, it Leas nut in derision God tenth o tr spirits free, Our brightes: hop- s arc but ,lie kllin pre-vision Of be! When they who lovingly have hoped and tril,e i, Deviio sow? transient fears, Shill see Lifo's jarrnz e!tonants air . , tutted And roanded into ,pheres I rom4 ,to he llo.Traveicf.) TII F E PASTO VACA- TIO S . It was in the inJrning of a hot July day. It seemed as if there had beau no night, for nut a drop of cooling dew had descended upon the earth ; the stars bad gleamed down dimly through the heated, murky air; vapors 1 bad arisen from earth to heaven only, and in the first Learns- of the scorch ing sun, the tired leaves hung listlessly ! from the trees, the thding flowers drooped their pretty heads, and seemed like fainting maidemi, a•tl et.- able to give back the smile of greet: lag ;—the crisped and thirsty earth shrank from another day or sutieriog ; yesterday w;:s all too much, nature with her hundred voices cried out for help ! The parsonage in the Nil— lags of Stralurd, was the mit ex posed house in town. Parson Rog ers had livt d. there fifty yeirs, and never planted as tuucli,as a rose bush ; down upon its bare white walls, 115 if drawn by an irresistible attraction, the sun came with almost melting power. It was without blinds, and the dote 4 -windows, and green paper-shades, af firded but- the scantiest protection.— Tne miller, who, with a large family lived in the Cottage under the great willow tree by the brook, has often looked with envy at the two-story house the minister occupied for noth ing, but to day a lease fur life would not tempt him to exchange. It is Fri day morning, the third hot clay, Sun day is only two days distant and a ser mm must be prepared. Mr. Dunn ing had risen earlj•, he might as well du so, fur he could nut sleep, and had been walking up and down, down and np his little study, hoping to be able et last to select the subject of his dis cQurse before the family should be awaked ; ho had gone to his door, and seen the leaves, and the flowers and the earth, and all seemed, less par ched, less witLoring, than he was .. himself. He has immediately succee dni Parson Rogers,—and had found the Parish as desolate as the parson age, not a green or living thing—one dull, dead, arid waste. For four years he had labored patiently and diligent ly, and had seen but very little re ward for his toil. This morning, in— deed through all his sleepless night the moral dearth of his people, had lain heavily upon his heart; his cour age was gone, his nerves were relaxed and feeble, the elasticity of his young life, by which he had hitherto borne ap manfully against discouragments seemed suddenly to- have deserted . . . . . . . . . . . . - . . . . . . . •- . • I I . . . . 41 . .. - 6 • , q . • ,-, -t-c . . . . '. . .. • I 1 .. 1 ~..4 - 0 0 '. A 1 A • C:. t. I •.1 . . . \ ....1 - 4 '. 4 : 171' • • • . .•-• 'hi ,-•... CI .r.. *a... n ' 'I j• 0 • , .. Lim. " Willtherqd and dying like nature,' be said to himself as he walk- ed restlessly around. I have no mind, no heart, nothing left, 1 cannot any longer endure it." Mechanically be turned, to his study table and his Bible ; able or not, the task must he done, Alas, the Bible was to him now only a book of teats and subject:—he turned the leaves. listlessly, his eyes rested coldly upon the precious words, there was no answering chord within his heart. Instead df a theme, there was suggested only the inside of his dreary church, the pulpit with faded cotten velvet covering, the long rows of unpainted pews, old Mrs. Thomp son, who slept and nodded now at eighty. as she had faithfully - done at furty, and old Mr. Sawyer, lvho in the slip opposite, returned her salutations with unillwm politeness ; but they were aged, and if they slept, were al ways there,—he almost dreaded the time when he ntust mias them from their places; Deacon Joll:s, and Dea con Smith, and Deacon Huh, all cast is that one mould, which, it' it did not come over in the Mayflower, certainly followed at no distant period, like the e,ommunion service, antiquated and sacred, set apart from the 3:orld, sup posed as they passed the threshold of the door to leave belling them secular interests and feelings, and to become consecrated and holy. Ah ! but the dilference was; the plate bore the pre cious elements that gave spiritual life and joy, and the deacons benam'oed and deadened the good influences, by receiving spiritual )(I, into cold and indolent heart.;-,- and sitting Sabbath after Sabbath in the same unbroken apathy, until they froze the very . life blood in their young and benevolent minister's heart. It was a wonder, four years of such a life, and nu rest, no change! It was a good palish, every body did his duty in paying 'minister tax and attending meeting. Parson Rovrs had drilled their well in that, but the minister. was a sort of machine, which was ex pected to fulfil its part in the engage ment as punctually as they did. - go:hi or a * bad sermon. only so it was ase rmqa,--lit tle ttered. Air. Dun ning, if he had no respect for himself, nu de-ire to fulfil, io spirit, the corn n.a...ds of his miter, would have found this a vory easy place. This !minting, these three doacorr, seemed to him a type of his congre gation, and weary and worn as he was no wonder that the Bible fitiled ,even, to be a book of texts: As time stole slowly on, the languor, of the day, and : his mental agony increased in propor tion. At last it was no longer to bo horse,—falling upon - his knnes with clasped hands, and bursting heart, he poured forth his sorrows and discour - agements, to Him from whom alone in his extremty could come As he closed, a low sob fell upon his car ; he started to fit.' his gentle wife had stolen unperceived into the room, and was kneeling beside him. lii a soft whisper she repeated : " He' that dwelled] in the- sect et place of the Most High shall abide under the shad ow of the Almighty. He shall call upon me, and I will answer him. I will be with him in trouble, I will de liver him and honor him." God had already heard, and answer ed him. " Bless you my wife," lie said drawing her towards him, I will abide under the shadow of the Al- mighty. All through. that long, oppressive day, he sat at his task, but it was •no longer a task, for his heart ivas strong in hope, and trust, that in his tiwn good ti:ne, God would deliver and honor him. The ne*t. Sabbath found him prepared, and even the " old folks," and these old deacons 'lingered after church around the pc:ltch, to•ask what made the minister so pale; no man could be sick and Write such an im pressive sermon. " He needs a vacation," whispered a young girl to her mother, as she stood listening to the. many cora , merits. . . . DEVOTED TO, THE PRINCIPLES•OF DEMOCRACY, AND THE DISSEMINATION. OF'MORALITY, * LITERATURE, AND NEWS . . COUDERSPORT, :POTTER COUNTY, PA., SEPTEMBER 27, 1855. " A vacation,eldld "Yes mother, in the cities they Bive .their. ministers vacations, and they do• not. work half as. hard gr. Dunning !'' "But they are rich, and can afford to travel, our minister is poor, and can hardly live by strict economy a.home: • "So much the more shame to us," answered the girl : With burning checks. "It is hard to make a man work the year around ; as-he does ; }se prize him so little that we shall lose him. :How sick he looks to-day l" has been terrible hot," answered Deacon Jones, "everybody looks wilt ed." "But ho' is the only one who has had a smmon . to write and preach." "For which we pay him the value of six dollars a Sabbath." . "But be has no vacation," persisted the girl,—"neither des he wish one, he is too - zealous in his. master's ser vice fur that." • Emma Allston was silenced but not convinced ; on her way home she re curred to the subject with her parents . again and again, and at lasts fairly aroused her father's interest and atten- lIMB Squire Allston, as the villagers call ed him, was an indifferent man as far as preaching and ministers went. He was punctual at church because he believi3d in law and order, and con-. sidered the Sabbath as necessary to both. He always occupied his time when there, ferreting out some ob scure case, or thialziug over a plea ; he never went -to nie . op ; he was far to . active for-that, but he did what was worse, never listened. Emma how ever, was an only-child; he was accus tomed to depend upon her good sense ; he had given her every advantage of education, land for•her principles his wife was a pious woman, -- antr she must look out for those. They were both members ofthe church, and he did not exactly like to come away on coin munion Sabbath, and leave them, but ho always did and left the church, minister, .w . l all religious matters to them: lie was a good lawyer and a just nun; and to State the case of vaca ' Lion to him, he gave it a lawyer's . at tention, the arguments for and against, dispassionately, and finally summed up all in this brief manner. "There is no, machine in the world that you can work all the time. without repairs. The mind,' is our thinking machine,, and rest and change repairs therefore, it has a right to them." To have a right, was to have a law on its side, and that was enough ; there fore Mr. AllSton settled it, that Mr. Dunning must have a vacation. "How and when l" asked Emma eagerly. "By his people making up a purse, and now, while the weather is oppres sive and he requires it so much ; why even the farm horse's are turned out to grass and no farmer grumbles; all know in their own experience, that there must be rest where there is work; everybody but a minister finds this in the change of employment, incident to his occupation ; but with the clergy it is always the same tine theme, one. object; I wonder as a class, they live half as long as they do," • • "Many. die very youtig,". said : Mrs. , Allston, sadly, "the churches have many precious lives to . answer for; w'aibh • have been lust through their neglect. In precisely such cases as this, the young man has found an early -- graVe, because no one saw that he ‘90.5 dying. In a country • village where nearly everybody work with their hands, head work is thought but 4 lazy sort of an affair, and I dare say that more than half the people in Stratford, will be astonished and angry • to hear that Mr. Dunning needs•rest." "Yes, and whosoever collects this money must creep into their hearts, and take those by:s!torm ; all appeals to their reason will be fruitless." • "Mehitable Holly, is the very Person to go;" said,Mrs. Allston; with decided look; she has nothing else to do, and -loves Mr. Pu0n10g.",... . • IMehitable isit'vefy good woman, buts had'ra - ther she would make 'my Shirts, i that would make the feel. 'I do not see: any one who 6a.n.do it better than ,our Emma.' 'As it is her proposi tion, -L think - she had better- see it carried out." "Mr: Allston;" paid his wife with unfeigned' Surprise. 'Why father! "echoed 'Emma in -the satire tone ; but neVerthe!ess, the Squire stood his ground firmly • and . went to his office, insisting that if anything must be done; Emma should undertake Emma's education and habits of life had always separated her in scm measure from the other- inhabitants of the village-; a pleasant wArd of g e ing, a"kind smile, a call of sympaihy iii affliCtion,- and her whole social life was told. She found so" many objects of interest and pleasure in self cultiva tion,—and-home duties, that she hard ly over thought of the world without. She was beloved and respected, though. for what, it would 'have been difficult for those so little acquainted with her to tell: In fine, with her position in the - . parish, and her gentle; winning mariners, she was, as her father had said, the very person to undertake the collection. How she shrank from the task ! hiw she brought all her christian principles to combat with herieelings; with What a nice, unflinching self in vestigation she. lay bare the whole depths of her•proud heart, and p.rorept ly asked herself was it right or wrong ? Why should she not do what Mehit able Holie s uneducated.and without' influ ence, would fail in if attempted. And so the minister in his study, and Em ma alone in her little room were both passing through life's diScipline, and both by the same means, to obtain sitniiar results of well doing rewards. Christian principle, once established, though often apparently wavering and uncertain, is always in the' end trium . pliant, and her parents were not sur prised to.see Emma come in soon after breakfast on Monday morning, ready to begin her mission. She called it so; her father laughed and said "eveiy thing was a mission now-a-days," but that fortunately did not injure a good cat He." We should. love to follow Emma, if the limits of our story would allow, through the first day's calls. One old tidy offered her herbs, she had noth ing else to give, and Emma went away, with a.nicebunch - of catnip. Deaccm Jones, *was perfectly astonished - "at the degeilorcracy of the age—that a servant of the Lord; should think it possible to seek rest, and recreation, when so many souls were hourly lost ; tto wonder that Stratford remained in such a cold dead state, a valley of dry banescertainly they must secure a man that would be more alive to the' great demandi of the church. His reason, and judgment, and feeling utterly condemned' whole mov . e- Ment, and he could only 'pray that no curse in consequence might ' fall upon . theirt." Emma laughed,' it was not very civil, but when the deacon waxed grandiloquent, how could she help it. Fanner Lowe •Was haying. :What a beautiful bit of meadow it was she could almost count the dollars for • every hay eock,:so could the farmer, -lint he -- could keep as - count. them. He was shrewd 'and - wordly, and though be liked an inheritance so well here, he - thought it would be comfortableat leastto - have one bespbke' hereafter; he did not like the notion of exchange Without due examination of the equivalent ; so the broad acres were soon reaped, and gathered only into his garners. - But this . morning, by some 'fatality, as Emma, with her sweet happy fate, mid clown among the reapers;" she reminded . him' of Ruth, and ho looked — about for • his - Boaz aiming the men: Diaz Was there but he had gazed too often at Ruth, on SundaY to see' bet' neW;ii - o - he 'bid be -hindthe cart—toolish, difßderit - bOy-- and' Hite ned to"Enaina's prettily pro ffered request, thinking how little he could haire refuSedber;••evee to "half of thekingdona." ' The farther had no arse there; hOvi'eould Emma have thought - he : Would; in•tliose blue Over alls,' but he would think of it, and Joseph shoulebring it over to the Squire's if he could giVe." That night after dark, Joseph dress ed in his best, knocked at the back door; and asked fcir EMma. How his beat as her figure stood before him 3 how he tried not to be a green farmer's boy, but a whole hearted piing man:as he was, and how that night andthroughthe plentiful harvest i:•g. he heard her sweet voice thank ing-him se warmly. Alt, Emma, if he thinkS eithat - more frequently than of his minister's vacation, it certainly does nit boseem yeti to chide—the money is yours, the motive is his, and you will never knoW how doubled then trebled the gold was at his re quoit. The purse fills fast ! Widow Jenk ins, the rich miserly widow! She had once a child like. Emma, and she . loved her, yes, better than she did gold—Lbtit all the riches of the world could nut retain her—and now Emma glides in and seats herself in her empty chair, and looks with the same, deep blue eyes into her . heart ; . .she has not heard the music of a young voice for many a long day, but there it is again in the desolate house—Emma asked aid for her Minister. Mr. Dunning stood by Mary's- side when she was dying, - he prayed, and the light of a Savior's. love illumined her tomb; h o e stood with. the mother at the grave, and drupt tears, when her eyes were dried, upon the coffin: Yes, it is as if Mary asked, 7 —what is money that she should'have one wish ungratified 1— There was. a tear or two on Emtna's cheek—miser as she was, the widow remembered that long after she forgot her gift Jane Whipple, the grocer's wife, had lain long at death's door, and there, too, Mr. Dunning has been a Messenger of mercy ; her husband is glad of an opportunity to show his gratitude, and gives Emma, with such warm thanks for the privilege, that she- feels as if his money would go doubly blest. Kate. Lawrence, the lame girl, oh, it is the sick, and the poor and sull'ering, that are most ready to give—that really know how "to prize their gentle, sympathising pas tor. Emma asks reluctantly, they have nothln; to spare, but they will not be denied the blessing, so she puts. their mites in a separate purse-.---she has the feeling that they are holy things, like'the poor woman's of 'old. Fashionable Mrs. Fenton! Emma went from the cripple to her. She has .the only damask curtains, and Btussels carpet in Stratford, and her daughters tare the only ladies that *oar flounced dresses and watches; of course she will give liberally: She is very happy to see Miss Allston, for she does not 'often call; but she blushes and hesitates when she hears her errand, and ends by forcing into her hand as if it was red hot,.and she could not retain „ 7 —it a quarter of a dollar. Emma L>kes care that it shall not' touch the "mites." The physi cian goes often to the parsonage with his saddlebags. He says with a sigh, he will give money,' hut he fears from Mr. Dunning's looks, he shall, before Winter is thi ough, have to give a large bill of samething else. Emma bears him with a shUdder, and shuti his gate. softly, as. if she felt already the con- - nection witli'death. She grows more resoluteinber mission, and when,' at the end of the third day, she changes the small bills into large ones, she says with a smile: "Only in two places have I been . refuscd, ono was Deacon Jones, and. one. was 'Mr. Thornton." • "Mt. Thornton • likes his brandy better. than his pastor, and all. his Morey . goes for that: you might have icirOwnit:" • "I did not mean that any One should feel' neglected, anif hive called every winarel'''l think Mr. Dunning would be delighted,.. if he . only knew: with how many o..presqona; of gbod this present is accompanied." "And you : mist take it to him this evening and tell bias, F,i>aaaa." . This was the hardest task of - all, and Emma, positively. declined. it. She would send the -purse with a note, and wouldltry to say all in that. And so she did, s and they came like apgels of mercy, this people's gift, into the dreary study. It mattered not that the summer air still scorched and with- ered; that the sermon was not. fin- ished,- dud the nerves were wear}._ and the heart faint. "Thou Nast: de, livered and honored mat; who Wouliii nit abide under the shadow of- tVr.. Almighty ?" Vacation! Years ag i t iliey wei not actually rnanyq but they' AtBClTleci ages to the spent' man--;-a Isicatio:l meant rest. Was ho once . again to k how the meaning of that word ? H! never &nee . ted 1,6 until ho wander.o shrough "the green pastures, aloud the still waters;" but beret actu::3 hare, it was like a dream; and he too:. his portmanteau in his hand, as he bad iii•his college days, and as he webs_ through the village on his way to hi native home, to see his old motile; , and try among childhood scenes, to bring back childhood's, freshness and dlasticity, his people crowded to thei.- doors,—no one knew before how muC'.l they had loved and respected him ; there had been no oppor4mity to to t tho hold he - had taken upon thei. hearts. _Not a kind Word that he ha I ever spoken, not an earnest pray.. , ; that he had offered within . their ow.i home, not a word a sympathy whe:f they were sad, or. in affliction, hot but come to mind now, and son) blessed him audibly as he passed. Yes, God had watched over him, awl now delighted to honor. The sees that seemed to him to have been broad • cast, God had taken from his han.l and dropped into many a stony heart. and now, as with the 'fullness- aml beauty of midsummer all around him and hie people's loge and resper - : beaming like sunlight over the scare, be dreWevery hour new healrA and strength from his journey. Ti L,. old smile came back to his Tips. Hi; frame, so weak, that at first it refused all effort, grew strong and mania:, again, and when he came within of his paternal borne, his heart leaped. up to•see his mother as warmly Wel-, lconie him as when he was a boy. • -Emma, on the moruing'of his leer ing Stratford, from behind the nearl : ,- close.' blinds of her room, had al;) watched him pass. This was tho re sult of liar firzt social effort for good- - - her first, but not her last. She was s frail, delicate girl, but she became 3. piltar - . in the church. She dated development and . strengthening of lits Christian character from. this peritot, She had learned one of life's gre lessons—that religicM is not vital ..a long twit is selfish, and that the tree urc must be used, to be - returucl tenfold. Old Mrs. Thompson and old 'AL-- Sawyer paSsed to their long elec t s.. The good deacon grew old and mi:ri-. festlp unfitted for the wants of .t.:lss awakened church. Young men, across whose faces the minister could swee t ? the chords of feeling with his roaster. hand, filled their places, and Stratford owed much to the tiew life given it. 14 its pastor's vacation? Sour. microscopic photographs e hibited at Manchester, the other excited much admiration. One, of Cal' size of a pin's head, when magnifie4 several hundred times was seen to cum- taiu a group of seven portraits of mem bers of the artist's family,thelikeneim..4l being admirably distinct. Anothei micrescopicphotograph, of still le.ia size, represented a Mural tablet erect— ed to tbo memory of William Stur— geon, thoelectrican, by his Manche*. ter friends, in Kirby Lansdale choral:. This little tablet covered 'only I,9ootig part of a superficial inch, and coutai t4 4. 580 letters, every one of which - cauA be distinctlyseen, by the aid of tbel microscope. Guilt is best discovered by o En U NO. 19.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers