The Columbia Democrat. (Bloomsburg, Pa.) 1837-1850, June 02, 1838, Image 1
fiVii r in I. - ST4 l . '"S$ WSii 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. 7" ?! 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 - i - -r, Mrr faS'"f.