The Columbia Democrat. (Bloomsburg, Pa.) 1837-1850, June 02, 1838, Image 1

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I have sworn upon the Altar of Cod, eternal Hostility to every form of Tyranny over tlic Mind of 3Ian.-Thomas Jefferson.
PKINTED AND PUBLISHED BY IF. WEBB.
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Volume II.
BliOODISBURG, COLUMBIA COUNTY, PA. SATURDAY, JUNE 2, 1838.
3
OFFICE OF THE DEMOCRAT,
Next dooii to Robison's Stage Office
The COLUMBIA DEMOCRAT will be
published even Saturday morning, at
TWO DOLLARS per annum, payable
naif yearly m advance, or J wo Dollars
Fifty Cents, if not paid within the year.
No subscription will betaken for a shorter
perwu man six manias; nor any uiscon
tinuancc permitted, until all arrearages
arc aiscliargea.
ADVERTISEMENTS not exceeding a
square will be conspicuously inserted at
One Dollar for the first three insertions.
and Twenty-five cents for every subse-
ijuvm nscriwn. jl"vi uucrai aiscouni
made to those who advertise by the year.
LETTERS addressed on business, must
be post paid.
From tho Universalis Union.
HOPE The Anchor of the SouT.
Heb. vi. 10.
Hope springcth up in sorrow's hour",
And lightens all its woes,
It mitigates misfortune's power,
And better prospects shows. '
i
Hopo is tho " anchor of tho soul"
Safe, steadfast, and secure;
It, beacon like, to us unfolds
The lurking ills that lure.
Hope is a helmet to tho brave;
Tho Christian's polar star,
It beams alike in hall or cave,"
In mirth, in peace, or wart
Hope bears tho storm-tost seaman Up;
And paints his distant homo;
Tis the bright pearl in sorrow's cup,
And tells of joy to come.
Hope cheers Iho wretched sort of need",
With whisp'rings of commits n!gh,
When broken hearts no more shall bledJ;
Nor babes for succor cry !
Hope dries (jio weeping mourner's tear;
"The orphan's wail it quells ;
Tho imprison'd captive, lone and drear;
Hope rprnjiirU by Us Bpells.
Hope, fiko a ray from realms above,
Nervc3 and sustains tho mind;
It spreads abroad its wings of love;
And shelters all mankind! '
Tho following sweet ballad of" Tho Blind Boy," is
By Miss F. II. Goidd.
0 tell me the foim of tho summer's soft air,
That tosses so gently the curls of my hair;
It breathes on my lips, and fans my soft cheek,
But gives mo no answer, though often I speak;
1 feci it play o'er me refreshing and light,
And yet cannot touch it, becauso I've no sight;
And Music what is itl and where does it dwell 1
I sink and T mount with its cadence and swell,
Whilst thrill'd to my heart with the deep going strain
Till pleasuro execssivo seems turning to paiii,
Now what tho bright color of music may bo,
Will any ono tell me? for I cannot see.
The odors of flowers that are hovering nigh,
What uro theyl on what kind of wings do they fly 1
Are theso s"hinirig angels who como to delight
A poor little child who knows nothing of sight j
Tho face of tho sun never comes to my mind:
:'Oli ! tell mo what light is becauso I am blind I
The annexed beautiful lines from ttie ICnicke'r-
Fbocker for April, possess all tho grace and delicacy
'which are the characteristics' of Bulwer's mind;
COMPLAINT OF THE VIOLET
I By the silent foot of tho shadowy hill,
Wo slept in our green retreats, i
1 And the April showers wcro wont to frill
Our hearts with sweets:
LAnd though wo (ay in a lowly bower,
Yet all things loved as well, .
And the waking boo left its fairest flower,
Willi us to dwell.
But tho warm May came in his prido to woo
The wealth of our virgin store,
And our hearts just felt hisbreith, and knew
Their sweets no more,
. .j . . .
Ynd uio summer reigns on the quiet spot
Vi hero wo dwell; and its suns and (.bowers
Brine: balm to our sister hearts, but not.
Oh ! not to ours I
I WhaCsfashioitabU, I'll maintain.
J 11 willlf I T IWW'An ' rrma rrfnvn Nun '
4 What's right wore fashionable too.'
MISCELLANEOUS.
From tho Massillion, (Ohio) Gazette.
RETURN of TISE CAPTIVE.
War lias long been reconed a glorious
trade. There is a "pride, and pomp, and
circumstance" about it, extremely captiva
ting to tho young and ardent, who have on
ly had an opportunity of seeing it in its
holiday dress. Could it always exhibit it
self in pagtantry and parade, it would be
indeed a glorious if hot a useful art; but
there is an under current of misery in its
actions and results, never seen by tho ro
mantic, that strips from its adventitious
tinsel, and presents it naked, iho fruitful pa
rent of pain and degredation. The victori
ous general, surrounded by his gaily deco
rated staff, with a highly disciplined and
tasteful uniformed line of soldiers in his
front, presents a very different aspect from
that which must have met the eye when
surveying tho carnage on the eve of tho
battle of Waterloo.
Our citizens yesterday morning were in
troduced to the acquaintance of John Wood,
a man whose tale of sorrow could not fail
of interesting the heart, however callous, or
however prone to incredulity. A meagre
sketch can only be given now. The ample
history of his misfortunes may hereafter be
presented to tho world and, if given by a
master hand, will command the interest,
and enlist the sympathy of the public,
when the mawkish productions of fiction,
which now cumber our b'ookstores and in
sult ottr taste; shall have become despised
and forgotten.
In the war of 1812, John Wood, now
fifty years old, was a young and industrious
farmer in Bracklen county, Kentucky. He
was the husband of a young and interesting
woman, and the father ' of two infant.chil
dren. He was living in happiness on a
farm, which lie had earned by his industry,
when the g-allant Captain Btiilcr, (who af
terwards fell at tho capture of the British
batteries at Fort Meigs) raised his flag, and
solicited the hardy Kentuckians of Bracken
bounty, to enroll themselves tlmong the de
fenders of their country. John Wood was
one of tho number. He suffered all tho
privations lo which tho chivalric army of
tne norm west was exposed, during the
disastrous campaign which resulted in tho
defeat of Winchester at the River Raisin.
By good fortune he escaped the tomakawk
of the savage allies of Great Britain, and
was sent a prisoner of war to Quebec. He
was next, with other American prisoners,
despatched in a transport to Plymouth, in
England. From Plymouth; accompanied
by a crowd of fellow prisoners, he was a
bdut to bo transferred to Dartmoor that
well remembered scene of British cruelty
and British cowardice when ho found an
opportunity to elude-his guards and make
lis escape. Ho wandered through the
country, stealing through byways, Until he
found himself at Bristol. Hunger compel
led him to enter a grocery, the head quar
ters of a British press gang. Hero ho wad
pressed, and despite his protestations that
he was a citizen of the United States, and
u fugitive prisoner of war, facts which might
lave been easily proven hy reference to tho
military authorities at Plymouth, ho was
hurried o'ri board His Mngesty's frigato
Sea Horse; then the flag ship of the cele
brated Sir Peter Parker, and compelled to
bear arms against his own countrymen.
On board tho Sea Horse were several
other Americans, who, liko Wood, had fal
len victims to theBhritislisyslorn of impress-
ment. They determined on desertion and
when laying In the Port of St. Johns, they
succeeded in securing a boat, during an ex
tremely dark night, and attempted to reach
tho eastern shore of tho state of Maine, j
They were instantly pursued, and were
obliged to desert their boat, ori the shore of
New Brunswick, and seek safety in the
woods. After wandering about for two
days, exhausted with cold and hunger, and
fatigue, they were apprehended by a party
of British soldiers, and again transferred to j
tho Sea Horse. Tho punishment that fol
lowed this act of desertion was inflicted
with all that ingenious refinement of cru
elty for which tho British navy is so cele
brated. The Sea Horse, attached to the squad
ron under admiral Cockbum, was shortly
afterwards ordered to the Chesapeake, and
took an active part in tho robbing, burning
and murdering of. the defenceless inhabi
tants of the coast. Mr. Wood and the im
pressed Americans were never permitted to
leave their vessel'. lie was on board on the
night when Sir p'etcr Parker met his fate
on shore. A few days subsequent lo this
event, ho, in company with seven other im
pressed Americans, attempted an escape in
broad daylight, by boldly jumping into a
boat long side, and pulling away for shore.
One of the number wa3 shot by tho senti
nel on duty. The others reached the beach,
but were apprehended immediately on lan
ding by a party of marauders belonging to
the Sea Horse.
By order of Admiral Cockbum, they
were sent in irons to Nova Scotia, whore
undergoing the formality of a mock trial,
they were sentenced to be shot. The sen
tence however was commuted to service
for life, in his Brittannic Majesty's army in
the East Indies. They were accordingly
shipped to England, and thertco with a re
giment of newly levied recruits, despatched
to Calcutta. For 21 years, Mr. Wood ser
ved as a private soldier in the East India
service; and, eighteen months since, when
broken down in spirit and in constitution,
he was permitted to sail for England. Des
titute and heart-broken, he reached London,
stated his caso to the United Slates Consul,
and by him was furnished with means of
reaching New York. He loft New York
in January, and wended his weary pilgrim-Re.lQAvards-.thchQrcfl-oTJu3
oJiililhoad.-...,.
It is now twenty-six years since he left
his wife and children in Kentucky; and not
one syllable has he heard, relative to their
situation, since the moment of their separa
tion! The citizens here forced a few dol
laisiipon him; for poor and decrepidas he
is, he still possesses all the pride of a Ken
tuckian, and sent him on his way in the
stage to Wellsville, from which town he
intends to embark on a steamboat for Au
gusta, in Kentucky.
Fancy cannot help asking what now is
that home to which the war broken wander
er is teturning? Will tho wife of his youth
be ready, in the fidelity of her early love,
lo hail the restoration of her lonr lost hus
band? Or, will her duty add affection have
been given to another. Or, will she bo re
posing boneath the clods of tho valley?
And his children! If living, they must
long ainco have, entered upon tho busy
scenes of life. Will they tade tho weary
pilgrim to their bosoms? A thousand over
powering emotion's must rush upon tho old
man's heart, as his weary footsteps approa
ches the spot that was onco his home. Fan
cy cannot fill the pic:ure. May He who
"tempers the wind lo the shorn lamb," sup
port the aged wanderer, in that eventful mo
ment which is soon to witness, either tho
cxtacy of his happiness, or the utter deso
lation of his hopes.
THE QUEER PACK.
A gentleman in an English village lately
went on a journey, after leaving express in
junctions to his house-keeper not to admit
any body whatsoever, to remain all night
at the house.
The third night after his departure, a
man, apparently a pedlar, came witti a
strange lookingpack, and begged, as it was
nightfall, tho privilege of staying all night.
This the housekeeper refused, but was at
lengtn persuaded to let tho pack remain,
saying, "thero is no harrn in it I 'spose,"
Shortly after the man's departure, Torn,
a harum-scarum boy of G, and the only
person about the placo except tho woman
and the old man, came in from hunting
with his gun.
Having learned how the pack came there
he eyed it attentively, and at length says
ho. "that's a queer pack dad, it's a living
pack, and I'll shoot it." o saying, he lev
elled his gun towards it.
" Nonscnsel"said the housekeeper, 'you
arc surely not going to hurt that man's
pack, Toml'
Tho moment after Tom fired, a stifled
groan was heard, and tho blood gushed
from the pack on the floor.
Tho neighbors were now sent for, and
on opening the pack, it was found to con
tain the body of a man, with abutcherknifo
in his hand, a brace of pistols; and a whis
tle tied to his neck.
Nqt doubting that he was ono of a gang
of robbers, the neighbors armed themselves
and about 11 o'clock blew the whistle; and
shortly afterwards hearing persons in the
yard, shot and killed four, who proved to
be citizens of the next village, that had in
tended to rob the house, and no doubt mur
der tho inmates. On his return, the pro
prietor rewarded him handsomely, sent him
to school, and dying five years afterwards,
left him the bulk of his property;
Improvement of candles. It is Found
by experience if you steep the cotted wick
in lime water, in which a considerable
quantity of nitrate of potassa has been dis
solved, a purer or brighter flame secured,
and superior light produced, a more perfect
combustion is insured; snuffing is rendered
nearly as nupcrfiuence as in wax candles,
and the caudles thus treated do not run.
The wicks must be thoroughly dry before
tho tallow is put to them.
Radishes. This root being liable to be
eaten by the worms, the following method
is recommended for raising tliem: Take
equal quantities .of buckwheat bran, and
fresh horse-dung, and mix them well and
JilctitKlb'J3UQ.KoniidAydiffs.t)fr3jd
denly after this a great fermentation will be
produced, and numbers of toadstool, (kind
of muchroom) w.ll start up in forty-eight
hours. Dig the ground over again and sow
the seed; and tho radishes will grow with
great rapidity and bo freo from the attacks
of insects. They will grow uncommonly
largo. Buckwheat bran is an excelleiit ma
nure itself. Farmer's Assistant.
Beautiful Extracts I saw a tsrnplo rea
red by the hands of man, standing with its
high pinnacles in tho distant plain. Tho
Streams beat upon it the God of nature
hurled his thunderbolts agaiiist it and yet
it stood firm as adamant. Revelry was its
lialls the gay, tho happy, tho young, and
tho beautiful were there. I returned and
lo ! the tcmplo was no more! Its high
walls lay in scattered ruins; moss and wild
grass grew rankly thero; and at the midnight
hour tho owl's cry added to tho deep solitude.
Tho young and tho gay who reveled there
had passed away.
I saw a child rejoicing in his youth the
idol of his mother and the pride of his father.
I returned, and that child had become old.
Trembling with the weight of years, he stood
the last of his generation a stranger amidst
the desolation around Iiimi
I saw the old oak, stand iri all its pride on
tho mountain tho birds were carrolling on
its boughs. I returned, and tho oak was
leafless and sapless; the winds wore playing
at their pastime through its branches.
"Who is this destroyer?" said I lo my guar
dian angel.
"It is TimeV'said ho, "When the morning
stars sang together with joy, over the new
made world, he commenced his course; and
when he shall have destroyed all thai is beau
tiful of tho earth plucked the sun from his
sphere Veiled tho moon in blood yea.
when he shall havo rolled tho heavens and
earth away as a scroll, then shall an angel
from the throne of God como forth, and with
one foot on the sea, and one on tho land, lift
up his hand toward heaveu, and swear by
Heaven's Eternal time u, ttme'was, Out
time shall be no longer!" Paulding.
One Moment ! what an effect it produces on man.
LOVERS'.
Every observer of human nature must
havo perceived that lovers not onlv do not
t
exercise the power of ridicule over eacli
other, but they cannot conceive that the idol
of their imagination should be the subiect
Of it. As interCOUSO iti ninrritifrf? hoenmoa
familiar, and thelittle graces ofciinunttn nr
laid aside, and Iho idol, though not less
worshipped, becomes less sacred. She is
not the deity of the temple, but of the house
hold; she is no longer tho great Diana of
Ephesus, approached at a distance with
mysterious rites, but one of Lares, meeting
the familiar glance at every turn. This dif
ference is never felt so keenly by a woman',
as when she first discovers that it is possible
for her to appear ridiculous to her husband.
A man who differs from his .wife and reasons
with her, selflove; but, tho moment ho
laughs' at her, she feels that the golden bowl
of married sympathy is broken.
"How beautiful is spring! with its buds
and blooms, and perfumes; covering the
earth with a robe of glory: gay with the
voice of birds, the hum" of insects, and the
laughter of the young spirits revelling in1 its
enjoymens. How profusely dolh it send
forth its ten thousand messengers to herald
the approach of summer. Nature so lately
paralyzed by the chill of winter, rouses her
self from her lethargy; and tho blue sky
gleams above a scene of renovated light and
beauty! The grasp of man is upon the
spade and tho scythe; labour and gaiety go
hand in hand; the promise of now harvests
is bright upon tho earth. And yet how
jcold does the accustomed eye look upon
the wonderful transition whicli iS affected
by the magical power of this most beauti
ful of seasons! We behold the tall trees
which have been for months dark, sapless
and unlovely, graduly put forth their buds,
tlidse-buds-bQrsr'forth with tlio richness of
their own treasures, and expand intq leaves
and blossoms; we see the seed sown by the,
husbandman, and we think notin wonder of
the miracle, as we trace the tender green of
the young plants which have sprung from
that slight seed; we only exclaim in aston
ishment and vexation should an occasion
arrive wherein it falls. Beautiful snrinir:
firstborn of nature ! On whom she lavished
her most lovely ffifts: like the heart's earliest
dream, decking every thing on earth' in a
new and brilliant garb; making the eye beam
and the spirit swell by the potency of thy
gentle spell ! Summer may boast its warni
skies, and its thousand blossoms; autumii
may be rich iii fruits and grains; but from
thee came the first fair promise of all these:
fmin fllPn rnmn thf fire, hlllft Imnirnn iLn
first bright flowers, and the germ of (He gold
en harvest."
ANECDOTE CHURCH MUSIC.
In a certain seaport town of Massachu
setts, measures ware taken by the members
of the religious congregation, some thirty
years since, to introduce vionnceio into tne
choir, for the improvement of the music.
This was an innovation that savored too
much the theatre, to meet the approbation of
the cldely members of the parish; and it was
evidently opposed hy their most influential
deacon. In spite of the opposition, however,.
the innoviation was sanctioned by a vote of
the majority; anil the violmcello. was intro
duced into the choir. Tho good deacon on
the first Sabbath of his appearance, took
his seat in his pew as usual,, where he sat
with becoming, irravltv. and until (he first
sound of the instrument was .heard, when
ho rose, advanced to the outside of tho new
and with all the gravity of a Freuch dan
cing master, danced a regular hornpipe
down the broad alsle and took leave of the
astonished COIl'Tep-atlon liv rl.-m'r.inr nut nf
tho house. Essex Gaz.
An Irishman firhis before hn reasons, a
Scotchman reasqns before ho lights, an Eng
lishman is not particular as to the order of
precedence, but will do either to accommo
date ins customer?. A modern General
has said hat the best troops would be as.
follows: An Irishrpan halt drunk, a.Scotch
man hair starved, an 'Endishman with' his
belly full. ' "
i
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