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'WE CO WHERE -DEMOCRATIC PRINCIPLES POINT THE "WAY ; WHEN THEY CEASE TO LEAD, WE CEASE TO FOLLOW,
BY JOHN G. GIVEN.
EBENSBURG, THURSDAY, MAY 10, 1819.
VOL. 5 NO. 31.
1 . I": I'll n W
Fiom Scott's Weekly Paper.
- , I TOL SETER MARRY 1 MECHANIC.
' ' BY LILLE LILBERXE.
"Ob, liow within my inmost heart .
Spring up music strain, . .. -
A tranjer strsngelj sweep the strings,
And Hope iu ilearen to it brings, -.
With plsasore nd with paio.
Oh. how I've loved that one, whose word
II&lh every pulse of my being stirred; .,
On whose form and face 1 may never gaze.
But whose life is link'd withmyown heart-lays.
4I will never' marry a mechanic?' was
said with some emphasis, by Ally Emer
'So I hare often heard you say, sis; and
I have as often known you to do the things
you say you never will.'
Well," Edgar, perhaps I do; , but one
thing is certain I shall never marry a
mechanic' - .
'But why, Alia, have you such an antip
athy to that class of people?
Oh," because they always seem so
coarse, vulgar, ignorant and awkard; with
large hands and homely faces, and thick
shoes, and blue coats, and I do not know
what all.' t -
Edgar Emerson laughed. You are
greatly mistaken, my precise and aristo
cratic sister, if this is really vour opinion,
which I much question. You entirely
underrate mechanics. It is not neessary
that they should be ignorant or awkard or
odd; nor does it follow that they lack the
marks of a; perfect gendeman in appear
ance, or taste and refinement in dress.
The earliest years of some of bur first and
finest men were spent in, sweat and toil;
and those of other countries, too, have ris
en from the artizan's bench, have laid .a
tide the awl and the lapstone for the pen
and the pencil. Linhaus, the founder of
liotanv. was apprenticed to a snoemaker
in oweuen. .-iau jjauu m. aicus, d
cer, a celebrated professor of Theology at
Heidelberg, Germany, was apprenticed to
a shoemaker. Hans Sachs, one " of; the
most famous of the early poets, was the
son of a tailor, and was himself a weaver.
Joseph Pendrell was a profound and sci
entific scholar, had an excellent library,
and pursued through life the trade of a
shoemaker,. Benedict Badonin, one of
the most learned men of the sixteenth cen
tury, was a shoemaker; so" was Holcroft,
the author of many works, and Gilford,
the founder, and for some years the edi
tor of the London Quarterly Review, one
of the most profound scholars and elegant
writers of the age; and many, very many
more distinguished names I might call up
from the Past, to convince rou that these
sentiments of yours" are but idle prejudi
ces and weak conclusions: nothing more.'
" I don't care I cannot help it. Me
chanics cannot have that refinement of
manner, that delicacy of feeling, that might
of mind, that ' loftiness of intellect, that
peerless perfection of character, that proud
poetry of genius that professional men
have. Their minds, constantly dwelling
on' coarser things,' learn to "associate them
with every tie and thought, to assimilate
with all life's likenesses. They would
prize the auger, and chisel, and plane, and
shovel, and file and hoe, and rake, far a
bove the poet's page, or the minstrel's mu
sic, or an elegant shawl, a dashing bonnet,
a first rate fashion plate, or a choice and
claborate piece of statuary.'
You have rather a confused idea of
tools, Edgar answered, with a smile.
But no more so than you have of the man
ners and merits of those that use them.'
Well, I do not wish to be instructed in
to the magic mysteries of the mechanic's
mechanism, as I shall never marry one,'
Alia returned, with a loot of proud resolve
and unquestionable determination.
- And yet the lowly mechanic might be
the President of the United States, intime,
was the arch reply.
And I should wait until he had arrived
at that honor, before I married him, I
. 1 hope,. Edgar, said some wha serious
ly, 4that my over-refined sister will never
unite her destiny with one she does not
love, merely - because he possesses rank
and wealth and station. j! 'Rather would I
see her laid in the grave, than to have her
thus compromise her dignity and delicacy,
perjure her soul. - u . y
- And Alia tried to smile as she respon
ded. . ' - 4 " '
N ever fear for me: never fear that, my
all -wise brother. I shall never wed the
one I do not love, and esteem, and honor;
and I would not marry a mechanic if I
did. ' ;
And thus you would wilfully bare your
haughty heart to suffering and the world's
suffrage, with only pride to heal it and
hide it ay, sis.
It 13 not pride, brother, believe me. , It
is not prideJ' and the sister spoke earnest
ly It is not because I feel elevated a-
bore them, that I thus decline
with them. . But it is something I cannot
explain something r I have always felt -that
they could never, feel as I do, think as
I do, or take an interest in the things I de
light in, or understand me.' r ; ;
This is indeed a most wonderful con
fession and concession for you to make,'
answered Edgar, in a rallying tone. I
have some hopes of . you , yet. Let you
but be assured by experience, that there
are as polished, gentlemen among mechan
ics as among other classes, ; and your un
founded prejudices will all vanish. And
I know of no one that would more effec
tually dispel them, than a friend of mine a
cabinet maker, t You have heard me speak
of Clinton Courtland."
'O yes, often: but I never heard you re
veal aught of iiis history.' - :
Xo, Alia, becaus you never evinced any
interest in it. And though he has, even of
late, himself labored with his own work
men, opulent and independent as he is;
yet I fancy you could not ever designate
him from the p roud patrician.'
You give me very litde credit for mv
powers of discrimination and my judg
ment, the maiden replied, with a-curl of
her pretty hp, and added: 'Bat I could
look on his browned brow, and large black
hands, and ',
Clinton CoutlandV forhead is as fair,
and his hands as white, and almost as small
as yours, sis; and all his manner a nd per-
son is in seeping, lie lnim leoK lor a
higher alliance than the fastidous and fash
ionable sister of Edgar Emerson.'. ;
. And I am perfectly willing he should,'
was the half-contemptous response and4
yet despite her . seeming inditference, she
betrayed more interest than she was aware
of. 'But were he the possessor of mil
lions, and should lay "that, and heart, and
hand, at my feet, I would reject all.'
Even, Allai if vou loved him if he
were dearer to you than life, would you
et iese file prejudices wind around your
nappmess tneir palsying pall of death: -Nay,
sis, you would not.'
And, as I never intend to fall in love
with your gentlemanly mechanic, we
will waste no more words upon the sub
ject; unless, indeed,' she resumed with an
ironical smile, y ou have promised my
hand to him.'
Give yourself no uneasiness on that
point, Alia; I rather think it will never be
sought. He is at present waiting on a
Miss Morton, the daughter of a millionare
merchant of his native city.' .
What a fool!' ejaculated Alia, ere she
was aware the words had passed his lips.
Which do you mean, sis, the lady or
the gentleman!' was the quiet qestion.
I will not tell you, Edgar , you know
well enough to which I allude.'
Well, if you mean Mr. Courtland, he
moves in the first society in Nev York.
His talents, his energy and elegance, have
placed him there, without any regard to
opuleuce or occupation.
Alia was thoughtful, and Edgar contin
ued 'Yet he perhaps owes some of
this to - his lofty cousin, Lawrence Court
land, the gentleman and the scholar whose
influence is felt in every throb of the city,'
Was it not Lawrence and Clinton
Courtland you expected to visit you last
winter, which the ill-health of one of them
prevented?' And Alla's anxiety was ap
parent. She was thinking of Lawrence.
The' same: and. I expect to meet with
them this summer at the Southern Springs,
whither I shall escort you and your cous
in; and then I will see whether you can
tell which is the mechanic, and which is
the gentleman. .
1 do not think that would be at all diffi
cult. I could tell them in an instant. . I
know I could.' .
We will see, and the young man
smiled. 'And though .without describing
their persons very: minutely, I will give
you a litde insight into their history; that
is, if cousin Catharine will permit,', and he
glanced, as he spoke, at a pale lovely girl,
who, reclining upon the cushions of a rich
sofa, held a book in her hand, and gazing
on its pages, listened .to the preceding con
versation. Rising from her seat, she sat
down by Edgar and. his sister in the flower-perfumed
recess, and said:
I am sure I should like to hear of them;
for I already, feel quite an t interest in the
mechanic especially. . 1 suppose I shall
not be allowed even a glance at his bril
liant cousin, when the all-attracting Alia
Emerson is by; and if I did, it would not
be returned,' And a gay glad smile lit up
each face. Edgar replied:
Now, my opinion is, that neither of you
will tell which is Mr. Courdand, and
which is Clinton; and very likely I shall
find you, Catharine, bestowingyour sweet
est smiles on Lawrence, . and Alia trying
all her wiles and witcheries to win the at
tentions of the mechanic.' '
Tell me of it, if you do.' . was the sis
ter's half-petulant rejoinder, f But how
provoking you are 1 really thought you
were going to tell us their IJiography.
bo I was. I had almost
Yet I fear I shall be too faithful a delinea
tor, and you will easily-detect the charac
ters so different and yet alike, as regards
honor, and honesty; and elegance, and re
finement, and every virtue, and every ex
cellence of moral and social life. :
Lawrence is -well, no matter; I will
begin with both. The parents of neither
of the cousins are living. - Those.of Chit
ton died when he was very young. They
were 'poor, and left . him destitute. The
father of . Lawrence took' him immediately
into his own family and of the age of his
cousin, he shared equally his studies, his
advantages. The parents of Lawrence
too, died, and he acted the part of a faith
ful guardian to his poor "oung relative,
who was left the choice of a profession
when his collegiate studies were completed.
And he apprenticed himself to a cabinet
. Years, years have passed since . then,
and he is now respected, and beloved, and
admired by all who know him. His bu
siness is very extensive; , and he is worth
many I do not know how many thous
and dollars; but he has enough for all the
luxuries and elesrancies of life. He is now
some part thirty, unmarried, and for
aught I know unengaged. He is a fine
sehollar, and spends much of his leisure
time in his study.
And Lawrence about a year after the
death of his parents, he buried an only
sister, a sweet child of eleven summers.
She was sick many months; and O! how
with all of a mother's kind care he watch
ed over hen how he loved her! And
when she died, it seemed as if his heart
was broken. O how alone he felt! The
blow was heavy; it prostrated him on a
bed of sickness long, long; and when he
had recovered sufliciendy, he went to Eu
rope, and . spent several years in travel.
This eave the finishing touch to his man-
iners. his acquirements and his well culti-
vated talents. There is not that person in
America that is more elegant in appear
ance, refined in taste, .delicate in feeling,
correct in sentiment, and proudly polished.
le is much with his books; and he has
written much; and his compositions betraj.
the fire, the fever, and the fervor of his
feelings. , .
, . 'And one word about their personal ap
pearance. ' . 4The one cousin has rich brown hair,
arranged with symmetrical carelessness; a
fair complexion, with handsome hazel
eyes, full of beauty and expression; and
with lips well cut, with smiles of gladness
and sunlight ever linked with the bright
blood there. His movements are unex
ceptionable, his manners pleasing, nay,
fascinating, -and . in .his whole demeanor
there is an air of negligent dignity and
easy fashion. And x now for the other.'
Alia interrupted him.
The one you have been describing is
.Lawrence, l know; so yon neeu go no
further, as I do not much care about the
mechanic' ' ' -
But I do,-' Catharine Emerson said,
with some gaiety; 'so, if you please, cousin
Edgar, I will listen to what you have got
But' broke in Alia, in a half satisfied,
half-doubting tone 'it was Lawrence
Courtland you were speaking of, was it
Edgar smiled, and returned-
I shall not tell you any thing about it;
and as you say -you can decide at" first
sight, I will wait until you are introduced.
You will not probably have to repeat the
question then.' -
But I do wish you would tell now, Ed
gar,' the maiden answered, eoaxingly; 'but
portray the other, than I know 1 can de
termine.' The young man looked grave as he re
plied ---1 " -
It seems to me you are uncommonly
interested in the strangers, fair sis; but
make , no mercenary calculations, I 'pray
you, or you may be disappointed. You
do not for one moment suppose the rich,
the gifted, the independent, the nice, pre
cise Lawrence Courdand would ever seek
the daughter of the merchant whose whole
capital is not a twentieth part of what he
possesses? And yet we, by the many,
are presumed rich, wealthy. And as for
Clinton he would look higher. But' I
forget you would not marry a mechanic
for love or money.' '
Xo, never!' ' But what a long rigma
role, Edgar! I shall 'never aspire to the
hand of the elegant gentleman in ques
tion. Nor have I any mercenary manoe
uvres whatever topractice; upon the said
magnanimous millionaire. So now for a
sketch of that other. ' -
Well then74hat other Mr. Courtland is
tall and slightly formed; has dark hair, and
large, black eyes that but no, I will not
attempt to describe them: they will' tell
their own strange truths. . His complexion
is pale, and though of nearly the same age
as his cousin, there is a look of care and
thoughtfulness upon his countenance that
maAes him seem somewhat older. He is
rather reserved in his manners and retiring I
in his habits, and dresses with the most
I was right I Arnow I am right, Alia
answered, as he concluded. This is
Clinton say, is it not, Edgar?'
f The' brother smiled, and the other re
pllow unpcrdonably provoAing you are,
Ed! Why can't you say yes when I have
guessed right?' i
; There is no need of it, sister mine, as
you are so very confident.. And the sa
gest philosopher, could not have studied
out the puzzling expression that lit up. his
handsome lip. v
But what is your opinion, cousin Kate?'
he asAed, turning to the fair girl addressed.
I have not formed any yet, but will
wait until I see the two gentlemen in ques
tion.', . j
You will soon have that opportunity.
We shall be at the White Springs in less
than a month.'
Art thou too cold and proud to lover
Methints it is not so,
For the flash of feeling on thy brow,
Like liht, will come and go.
Now tell me, dear Catharine, why you
have never married?' Alia inquired as
her brother left the apartment. You have
had so many opportunities, and you are
. . An old maid, almost perhaps quite,'
Catharine interrupted her by saying. An
old maid! Yes, I am twenty-seven years
eld too old to be married now, you
now.' And the shade of sadness, of
melancholy, passed away that at first gath
ered on her fine features.
No, indeed, dear cousin, I do not thini
so. I am only eighteen, and yet you loo&
younger than I do. And I heard a lady
say the other day 'Miss Cameron could
not possbly be twenty.' ' .
x ou are jesting, Alia; yet it matters not
with me whether I loo young or old, pro
viding I but do my duty here on earth,
and live for others, "hot for myself.'
- But you have -not yet answered my
question, coz. ..The world says you are
too cold and proud to love, and, cousin
Catharine, I have sometimes; thought,
when I have seen vou amonsf the multitude
that it might be true that it was even so.'
Catharine's cheeA: reddened, and an ex
pression of distress quivered on her color
ed lip, and she pressed it for a moment in
writhing agony, and then, she bade a smile
there, and replietl
The world I can forgive for this opin
ion of me, but you, Alia, you A-now me so
well: it cannot be that you deem me either
the one or the other. And yet, and yet
I am cold and proud.
Forgive me, my cousin; and, Catharine,
how often have I watched you amid the
crowd, when the light, the brilliancy, the
music, the excitement seemed to .have no
effect upon him whatever; and you would !
turn coldly and carelessly, away from the
homage that would have been . paid you,
nor even raise your eyes to those that were
waiting an opportunity to address you;
and, as if you knew their intention, a slight
expression of scorn would rise to your
proud lip, and you would pass from their
'O, I am but too sensible of all this it
may be weakness,' Catharine said, thought
fully. And yet it. is not a want of feeling,
it is not haughtiness, it is not pride; and
yet it is that Pride that disdains to intrude,
that scorns to solicit attentions even by a
looA. Yon Anow, Alia, that . I am timid,
diffident and reserved. I cannot help it.
I never seeA the notice I never seeA the
acquaintance of any one, and ' often avoid
speaAing to those I Anow feei-themselves
elevated above me. This is a strange
weaAness, you will say; but then I Anow
I am not liAe rany body. else. J And this,
all this is put down as coldness, as pride,
as want orfeeling! O my God! none have
Anown, no one can Anow how Aeenly sen
sitive my feelings are. How often, O!
how often have I wished they were coarse
and cold as are the world's I could bet
ter batde with it.
I believe you, Catharine, was replied,
with a slight sigh and Alia added more gai
ly 'But you have not yet answered my
first question why you have neve married.-'
" ' , ' '
Again a shadow flitted over the paled
brow of the maiden; but it was gone, and
she returned ,
' I thinA, cousin, that you would hardly
maAe the inquiry did you but once reflect
that, were there no other obstacle in the
way, my ' Duty hath forbidden it. I am
the youngest child by several years; this
you Anow, and that my sisters are married
and have gone to the West. My parents
were infirm; they needed my care, they
needed my company, they needed my at
tentions, they needed my love and affec
tion, and could I leave them alone? t No,
though I had met with one dearer to me
than life, I would not have abandoned them
while I was so necessary to their comfort,
their happiness. And O! how thanAfui I
am I never did; that I could be with them",
watch over them in their last moments,
and Know, feel that I had administered to
theirevery wish and want!' " ' .
-And now, said Alia, looKing up and
smiling through her tears, and now I do
not see as you can have any excuse; and
j-et I suppose you will yet have such
stransre and romantic notidns about Pride?
and Honor, and Duty, and every thing
And I suppose you guess right. There
are barriers deep and high and strong, that
widen and strengthen with every year.
You thinK I am alluding to my age, and
that is a sufficient obstacle to my being
sought. But that is not all. With the
thought and experience I have attained I
should shrinK from entering into that state
where there are so many high and immu
table responsibilities, so many incumbent
duties, so much depending on the wife;
and if she fail, the happiness ofahousehold
is destroyed. O, how forcibly "do I feel
my own inefficiency my own weaKness!
how incompetent for scch a tasK how
inadequate for every trial, and to perform
every part expected, every obligation, eve
ry duty! What a wrecK the many, all
uninformed and inexperienced as they are,
maKe of their own felicity and of the hap
piness of those connected with them. The
happiness of those that should be dearer
than self. Domestic happiness is compo
sed of an inumerable number of the finest
and fairest music wires. Touch one with
an impetuous movement, press upon it too
harshly, bear upon it too heavily, and but
jarring and discordant strains are emitted.
And it must be a sKillful and practised
hand, a careful and watchful connoissieur,
that can bear upon the right ones with pro
fessional adroitness, correcdy and artisti
cally. I should so fear for myself that
my . quivering that my faint . and failing
fingers would surely maKe discords that
would fall all harshly on my husband's
Even if that husband were a meclianic,
Alia said, to hide her saddened feelings.
'A mechanic's happiness is just as dear
to him "as Prince Albert's, or the Presi
dent's, though the requirements of the for
mer would be much less' was advanced
The 'Oldest Inhabitant."
That gentleman . (or lady, as the case
may be.) must be. venerable for his age,
and worthy of all confidence for his vera
city. There has been no time since the
confusion of tongues on the plain of Shi
nar, in which this remarkable personage
has not declared that the last cold day was
the coldest, the last warm day the hottest,
the last hailstones that fell the biggest, the
last lightning the sharpest, the last thunder
the most terrefic, and so on," "world with
out end" that he had ever seen, heard
of, or conceived. He cooly affirms, now,
that provisions are dearer than thev were
ever known to be before a fact for which
he accounts from another fact, namely,
that there are more dozs about now-a-davs,
especially mad dogs, than were ever per
mitted to live in any one age since the
davs of his renowned ancestor, who flour
ished about a century anterior to the exo
dus" of the children of Israel. I am my
self ready to testify on oath, if necessary,
that this old gendeman has declared, every
year for near fifty years nay, sometimes
twice or thrice m a year that the money
market was never before so tight as at the
present moment; and he prophesies that
money will never be any easier, till the
legislature repeals the usury laws.
A Mint for California. The Massa
chusetts and California company, start
from If orthampton, Mass.7for their desti
nation soon overland, with all the fixings
for establishing a private mint at San Fran
cisco, with die approbation of the govern
ment. They have in Wm. H. Hayden,
a graduate of Yale College, an assayer
well qualified to discharge his duties, and
machinery capable of coining SI 0,000 a
day. It is their intentention to purchase
gold dust at the current prices, and trans
form it into coin for circulation.
An American Statesman.
The true American statesman is patri
otic. He loves his country his whole
country. He is jealous of her honor, and
proud of her fame. In the hour of her
prosperity he rejoices; in the hour of her
peril, ne flies to ner rescue, ne loves me
glorious Union, and seeks to strengthen
its bonds. He frowns upon every attempt,
in whatever quarter originating, to breath
jealousies and discord among the members
of our . national family. He knows no
east nor west, nor north nor south, only as
being parts of one grand, united, insepera
ble whole. Such men have lived in this
country. Such now sleep in this coun
try's bosom. Washin2)on, Franklin,
Jefferson, Jay, William Wirt, Roger Sher
man, Patrick Henry! These and "their
compeers, were the very soul of this na
tion the great heart, whose every , beat
sent its streams of patriotic liie-blood
through every vein and artery of the re
public. The debt we owe them can nev
er be repaid. They . have directed their
country to glory, and their countrymen to
fcoper "Tney 'have been our teaciidc-ia-
instruct our counselors to euidc our
guardians to defend. And their bright ex
ample and holy precepts still constitute
the "cloud by day and the pillar of fire by
night,, to guide the millions of .this favor
ed land to usefulness, to knowledge and
to truth. Dr. Jordan. y .
How to Raise Good Potatoes-
My object in writing, at this time, is to -give
you my method of growing potatoes
free from the rot. I have practised it two
seasons with entire success, and have now
six hundred bushels of fine Mercer pota
toes iu my cellar and all free from the
My method is, to plow the ground late
in the fall or early in the spring, harrow
it smoothly before planting time, then haul
out fifteen tons rotted manure, spread it
broadcast, then take two horses and plow,
and back up two full furrows, the furrows
just meeting in the backing; leave a' strip
one foot wide, and back up two more;
and so continue till you have completed
the lot. Then turn about and split these
double furrows open with a single furrow,
then commence dropping your potatoes
(pieces of cut potatoes, containing at least
four eyes) in furrow six inches apart.
After the lot is dropped, take your horses
and plow, and throw two good furrows,
(one round of the tearti to a row,) 'just
meeting on the top, dress off the. top,
clearing die row of stones, clods, &c.; then
sow broadea?! five "bushels common "salt
over the ground immediately after planting;
cultivate well till the plants are in bloasoui,
and you will have a good crop.
. Value of Root Crops. . A
For the last three years I have turned
my attention to raising parsnips, ruta ba
gas, and the sugar beet, as a field crop.
The parsnip should be planted as early in
Aprd as the ground will admit. It has no
enemy that will seriously injure it, yields
well, (500 bushels per a ere,) and for win
ter hogs, is worth twice as much . as the
ruta baga or sugar beet. -
The ruta baga, with me, has become an
uncertain crop on account, of the depreW
tions of the turnip flea.- The sugar beet
is a productive root and will pay well for
persons engaged in the production of win
ter milk, but under other circumstances,
I doubt the economy of entering largely
into its cultivation. If fattening cattle or
hogs be die object, Indian corn will afford
more feed from a given quantity of ground ,
provided it is as nchly manured. i
ETerjreens far Sheep.
Evergreens are rot only excellent food
for sheep, which may often be used to
considerable extent as a matter of econo
my, but they are very wholesome as a
green food when sheep are . Kept long on
dry fodder. Sometimes evergreens may
be used as a matter of necessity, whea hay
is scarce, and save animals from great suf
fering and starvation, .which occasionally
occur from unusually long and cold r win
ters. Colds and other diseases m sheep
have been cured by the use of evergreens.
Pines of different Kinds are among, the
best evergreens for sheep; hemlocK is also
excellent; spruce and fir, if not equally
good, are very useful. Sheep are foud of
browse of almost every description. They
bear with difficulty a long confinement to
dry fodder, and they should be relieved by
the use of roots, evergreens, or browse; all
of which they eat with great eagerness.
Goad Sulms. -
Keep your temper."
., "Be punctual and methodical in business,
and never procrastinate. -
Preserve self-possession, and Jo not be
talked out of conviction.
Never be in a hurry. .
Rather set than follo w examples
Rise early and be an economist of time.
Practice strict temoerance. ;
Manner is " something with every body,
and everything with some.
Be guarded in discourse, attentive and
slow to speak.
Never - acquiesce in immoral or perni
Be not forward to assign reasons to
those who have no right to ask. . ,
Think nothing ia conduct unimportant -and
indifferent. ' ; . -
. In all your transactions remember the