VoL. VI, No. 31.] I TM: S vIZO OF THF HUNTINGDON JOURNAL The JOURNAL" will be published every Wedneslay morning, at two dollars a year, if paid IN ADVANCE, and if not paid with in six in inths, two dollars and a half. Every person who obtains five subscribers, and forwords price of subscription, shall be .it•iiishe,l with , t sixth copy gratuitously for one year. No suoscription received for a less period than six ,0 mtns, nor any paper discontinued until all arrearages are paid. If 111 cootomoications must he addressed to thin 1. liter, POST PAID, or they will not be atteo led to. A lvei tisements not exceeding one sqVare, will be inserted three times for one dollar, anal for every subsequent insertion, twenty fi ye cents per square will he charged. Ifni) definite orders are given as to the time an advertisement is to be continued, it will be kept in till ordered out, and charged accor dingly. AGENTS. To T;ie Illunlinzdon Journal. Daniel Teague, Orbisonia; David Blair, Esq. Shade Gap; Benjamin Lease, Shirleys burg; Eliel Smith. Esq. Chilcottstown; Jas. Entriken, jr. Ceffee Run; Hugh Madden, Esq. Springfield; Dr. S. S. Dewey, Bir mingham; .1 ,imes Morrow, Union Furnace; John:lister, Warrior Mirk; James Davis, Esq. West township ; I). FL Moore, Esq. Frant . stow•t; Ep.t. G.lbreath, Esq. Holli da,phur•t; Henry Neff, illexandria; Aaron Mims, TV/hams - burg; A. J. Stewart, Water Street; lV Maria township; Sol nn m Ramer. Aeff's Mill; James Dysart, .1111 , 1 th Spruce Creek; Wm. Murray, Esq. Grayoville; John Crum, Manor Hill; Jas. E. 5 --, wart, Sinking Valley; L. C. Kessler ittill Creek. j › . r ! . '- ' 1 4 1., ( 41 i rlf IE, -,..../ li . , ... ...v . 2r y 7.• ''. Zi . . " iete , 4 . 4 ,,,,, „,.,,,,.. ~ POET ItY, THE FORSAKEN TU THE FALSE ONE. BY T. HAYNES BAILEY, I date thee to forget me! Go wanderer where thou wilt; Thy hand upon the vessel's helm, Or on the sabre's hilt, Away! thou'rt free! o'er land and sea Go rusts to danger's brink! But oh! thou ca7.'l6t not fly from thought! Thy curse will be—to think! Remember me! remember all. My long enduring love, That linked itself to perfidy; The vulture and the dove! Remember in thy utmost need , I never once did shrink, But eliting to thee coefidingly: Thy curse shall br —to tl ink, Then go! that thought will render thee A dastard in the fight; That thought, when thou art tempest toss Will fight thee with affright! In some wild dungeon may'st thou lie, And counting each cold link That binds thee to captivity, Thy curse shAl be—to think! Go seek the merry banquet hall, Where younger maidens bloom, The thought of me shall make thee there Endure a deeper gloom; That thought shall turn the festive cup To poison while you drink, And while false smiles are on thy cheek, Thy curse will be—to think! Forget me, false one, hope it not! When minstrels touch the string, The memory of other days Will gall thee while they sing; The airsl used to luve, will make Thy coward conscience shrink, Aye, every note will have its sting. Thy curse will be—to think! Forget me! No, that shall not be! I'll haunt thee in my sleep, in dreams thou'lt cling to slimy rocks That overhang the deep ; Thou'lt shriek fur aid! my feeble arm Shall hurl thee from the brink, And when thou wak'st in wild dismay, Thy curse will be—to think. Some cross bachelor or married editor has placed the following surly heading to his marriage list: 'Here the girls. and here the widow, Always cast their earliest glance, And with a smileless face consider If they too don't stand a chance To nuke some clever fellow double In bliss and often, too; in trouble." THE JOTJ *4 Short Patent Sermon. I will preach, on this occasion, from the following text: if ye are honest, honorable men, Go ye and—pay the Printer. My hearers—There are many seeming trifles in this world which you are too apt to overlook on account of their apparent unimportance, the neglect of which has plunged thousands into the deepest mire of misery, and sunk their character into inextricable degredation. Among these ostensible trifles ; that of neglecting to pay one's honest debts is the most common, and attended with the worst of consequen ces. It taker dial' the silken furze from 'the fine thread of feeling—creates a sort of misanthropic coldness about the heart —skims off all the cream that may chance to rise upon the milk of generosity--and makes man look as savagely upon his bro ther man as does a dog upon one of his species while engaged in the gratifying employment of eating his master's dinner. One debt begets another. 1 have ale ays observed that he who owes a man a dol lar is sure to owe him also a grudge; and he is always more ready to pay compound interest on the latter, than on the former. Oh, my friends, to be over head and ears in love is as bad a predicament as a per son ought ever to be in ; but to be so deep ly in debt that you can't sleep of nights without being haunted by the ghost of some insatiate creditor, is enough to give a tnan the hydrophobia—make him bite a wheel barrow—cause it to rug mad, and create a general consternation among the lamp posts. My dear friends—the debt that sits heaviest on the conscience of a mortal— provided he has one—is the debt due to the printer. It presses harder upon one's bosom than the night mare—galls the soul —frets and chafes every ennobling senti ment—squeezes all the juice of fraternal sympathy from the heart, and leaves it drier than tite surface of a roasted potato. A man who wrongs the printer out of a singls cent, can never expect to enjoy comfort in this world, and may well have doubts of finding happiness in any other. lie will be sure to go dawn to the grave ere Time shall have bedecked Its brow with the s;lvery blossom of age; and the green leaves of hope will fall before the first bad of enjoyment has expanded. It is true the mushrooms of peace may spring up during a short night of forgetfulness, but they will all wither beneath the scorch ing rays of remorse. how can you, my friends, ever have the wickedness and cruelty to cheat the printer, when you consider how much he has done, and is every day doing, for you. Ile has pour ed into the treasuries of your minds some of the most valuable gifts that any short of a God can bestow—aye, riches with which you would not part for the posses sion of . the v hole world, and a mortgage on a small corner of heaven. With the keys of magic, as it were, he has opened the tron-cased doors of the human under. standing—dispelled the darkress of iu * no• ranee, and lit up the lamps of knowledge and wisdom. That mighty engine—the Bess—is surrounded by a halo of glory, and its effulgence extends all over the broad empire of the mind, illuminating the darkest avenues of the heart ; and yet the printer—the man who toils at the le. ver of this soul-enlightening instrument— is often robbed of his hard-earned bread by those whom he has delivered from men tal bondage, and placed in a paradise to lay oft and grow fat upon the fruits of his labor! Oh, you ungrateful sinners! if you have hearts moistened with the dews of mercy, instead of gizzards filled with gravel, take heed what I say unto you. if there be one among you in this congregation whose ac count is not settled with the printer, go and adjust it immediately, and be able to hold your heads up in society, like a gi rafle ; be respected by the wise and the good—tree h horn the tortures of a guilty conscience—the mortification of repeated dons—and escape from falling into the clutches of those licensed thieves, the lawyers. If you are honest and honora ble men, you will go forthwith and pay the printer. Yuu will not wait for the morrow, because there is no to-morrow, it is but a visionary receptacle for unredee med promises—an addled egg in the great nest of the future—the debtor's hope and the creditor's curse. If you are dishon est, low minded sons of Satan, I don't suppose you will ever pay the printer, as long as you have no reputation to lose— no character to sustain—and no morals to cultivate. But, let me tell you my friends, that it you don't do it, your paths to the tomb will be strewn with thorns--you will have to gather your daily food from brambles--your children will die of the ilpientary, and you yourselves will never enjoy the blessings of health. I once cal led on a sick person whom the doctors had given up as a gotie ease. I asked him if he had made his peace with Ida Maker? He said he thought he had squared up. I Inquired if be had forgiven all his enemies. "ONE COUNTRY, ONE CONSTITUTION, ONE DESTINY." A. W. BENEDICT PUBLISHER AND PROPRIETOR. HUNTINGDON, PENNSYLVANIA, WEDNESDAY, JULY 14, 1841 He replied, yes. I then asked him if he ' had made his peace with his printer. lie hesitated for a moment, and then said he believed he owed him something like about two dollars and fifty cents, which he desired to have paid before he bid good !bye to the world. His desire was imme diately gratified; and from that moment he became convalescent. Re is now liv ing in the 'enjoyment of health and- pros perity— at peace with his own conscience, his God, and the whole world. Let this be an example for you, my friends. Pat-, ronize the printer--take the papers—pay for them in advance—and your days will be long upon the earth and overflowing with the honey of happiness. My hearers: Pay all your debts, and keep an honorable reckoning with your fellow men : but above all, keep paying, by daily instalments, that everlasting debt of gratitude which you owe to Him from whom you obtained capital ..ufficient to begin the first transactions of life; so that when you come to balance accounts at the day of general settlement, all things may appear fair and above board. So mote it be: Huntingdon, July sth, 1641 Mn. A. W. BENEUICT, :In- —The under signed were appointed a Committee, hr the Mechanics or tiuntit v lon, at the Cel ebration of the 65th Anniversat y of Amer•' ican Independence, to request the Speak I, r s on that day to furnish copies of their addresses for publication. NN ith an ear nest hope that it will meet your consent, the Committee Remain Respectfully, Yours, Etc. M. BUOY, S. GRA FFIUS, J. SIMPSON. Huntingdon, July 7111,1841 GENTLEMEN.--- Your note, directed by the Mechanics, at their celebration on the Sd inst., I have this moment received. For the flattering notice of my humble efl'ort by them, I sincerely return thanks. If the few remarks hastily thrown to. gether for the occasion, seem to merit such distinction, they are entirely at the setvice of my friends, although I regret that I had not time to have made them more deserving your attention. Yourß, With Respect and Esteem, A. W. BENEDICT. M. Buoy, S. GR AF FM% J. SIMPSON. FELLOW LABORERS & FELLOW OTT. ZEiSS :--Once more have we met to add ours to the general acclamations of joy, to celebrate that day when the natal star of our country first beArned amid the ocean. It cannot he imagine:l that so humble an individual can say any thing new, on a subject which forsixty-five years has been the theme of our most eminent . and eloquent men. Every city, village, and hamlet have annually listened to the [rehearsal of the scenes of the revolution, and the causes that produced them from some one selected for the honor. Should the present humble speaker succeed in ad ding one smile of joy to the scene, or of awakening one feeling of patriotism a mong his hearers, his task is done. It is the duty of us all to recur to the' history of the gloomy days of the Revolu• tion. We should keep ever alive in our minds the toil, the treasure, and the blood, which the blessings we now enjoy cost. Those who are ever mindful of their value, , will guard them with watchful eyes. If the time shall ever come when the events of this day 65 years ago be forgotten—if not forgotten, but dimly rememhered as things of other days,— I shall look upon it as the precursor of coming dissolution. Then, and not till then, shall I fear for !the Liberties of my country. Let us then, brother Mechanics, recall that hatred of tyranny which characterized our revolutionary fathers, and follow their foot prints, from the murders at Concord and Lexiagton, to the final scene hi that grand draona. Let your minds rest for. a moment on those days of oppression and terror. Think of the hop'e's and fears, which agitated the mind of every patriot. Do you see them, when forbearance ceased to be a virtue—when all seized such wea pons as chance hail furnished, and with but a handful of men, they brought the proud Lion of Britain at hay, at Lexing ton, and gave him no rest in his lair until our eagle soared beyond his reach 7 Do von ta,e them when their fond wives and 'families, are to be left,—perchance never to be seen again—when the mother, wife,! or sister, urges the. father, husband, or, brother not to be behind in the cause of Freedom. ‘Vhen the wife, like her of Switzerland exclaimed * • * 'Amid arc we thus eippressed. Then must we rise upon our mountain sod And man meat arm, and woman cation Gad I ow what thou wnuldst do, and be it done Trust me to Heaven in) husband-this thy son The ba!,e that I have borne thee must be free And the sweet memory of our pleasant hearth May well give strength—if ought be strong .on earth— Go forth beside the waters and along The chamois paths; and thro'the forest go, And tell iu burning words thy tale of wrong To the brave hearts that mid the hamlet glo , God shall be with thee, my beloved—away! Bless but the child and leave me—lcon pray Could any power resist such a cause, so urged and so sustained, It could not ! And as long as that bloody strife continued, the same ardor, the same devotion to th e "sweet memory of the pleasant hearth? sustained every soldier. Though suflitr ing for food and clothing, and their torn and lacerated feet marked the snow with a freemen's blood, still the same patriot fire burnt clear and bright in every bosom. Through every toil—through every danger --Though their starry banner floated in the sky, flushed with victory or was dim with defeat, there they stood firm as their own hills, unflinching and undismayed. Like Washington himself, 'though their eyes grew dim in the service of their coun try, they never doubted her justice," and Onward ! Onward they pressed, trusting their cause to Him who said "the race is not always to the swift, nor the battle to the strong." All from tins day 65 years ago, until the surrender of Cornwallis in 'Bl were animated by the same holy love of his country and its Liberties. Wheth.. er we recur to that sacred band who pledg ed their lives their fortunes, and their honors to survive or perish only with their country—cr to the suffering soldier in the ranks—it is all the same. The former, have left an undying name, for their deeds of that day, and the-latter though unknown, sleeps the sleep of death on the battle field, or beneath the clods of the silent valley, still the memory of his gallant bearing can never be tamed from the heart of the American citizen. The grat itude of every heart, will ascend as an in cense to his mansions beyond the tomb; and there, while he shall tune his harp with the angels around the Throne, will • he be gladdened by tears of gratitude, shed b y t i,i;ze who wor . ship , at that altar, his hand reared, anti nis mood watered. Dow, JR Lead back your memories we say again , and seethe unwavering attachment of of. ficers amd saide'rs, to the cause of their country; and whether your mind tests upon the Old Lion of the East, when he turned on his oppressors at Bunke. hill, and with an un'►lanched cheek, said to his followers, not to fire until they saw, the whites of their enemies eyes-. , 0r see the tear trickling down the cheek of the vet eran Cochran, who wept that he had not the means to remove his suffering wife and daughters, From the scene of destitu tion, on the Banks of the Hudson—or whether you see the generous Stuben giv • ing his only remaining dollar, to a wound ed negro, who wept on the wharf, that he hail no way to fZet to his friends. Your' feelings are the same; and you ask your selves how else could that war terminate, than victoriously, when such gallant and good men battled, and prayed fur their country's cause. Is it not right, is it not our duty, to re call to our memories, the names and the deeds of these men. Every heart should. Every American heart will answer yes. Learn their history by heart—emulate their virtues, and the day is not far dis tant, when evil discord, nor foreign power, can shake the foundations of our Temple. Those gallant heroes are fast leaving us! One by one the grave is fast receiving them; and we blush, when we utter the naked truth, that some who with their own hands, have helped to rear our altar, dedicated to civil and religious liberty, are suffering under the oppressive grasp of poverty. The liberties they won, they cannot enjoy, and drag out a miserable existence, too often oppressed by those who sit beneath that tree, their hands had planted, and their blood had nurtured. Many, we might say nearly all, spend the evening of their days, around the fire side circle of their kindred andfriends con fident that they will live in the memory of those who survive them, rich in the lega cy they bequeath posterity, unwilling to barter it for the privilege of living, and tasking in the sunshine and splendor of courts of Kings. Show me a veteran who would exchange the rights and immunities of a Freeman, tor all the luxuries and ease of a palace, where he most die unheeded, and uncared for—forgotten and forgot. Thank heaven! they fought for other re. wards than pecuniary ones. It was the reward most loved by the brave. The certain assurance that their labors have added to human happiness, and amelio rated the amount of human suffering and woe. Thank (leaven! We say again, That they are not neglected and forgotten by all. Tell me my friends, who it Is whose grey hairs are ever respected, by every age and eve►'y sex, and the sight of whose wounds brings a tear to every eve, —whose name excites the ardor of youlh- NI enthusiasm, and secures him their ex- ertiona, to lead him to a seat of honor in' the assemblies of his countrymen? We ask again, who is it 7 Is it not the soldier of the Revolution ? e hear every heart exclaim it is What voice of sorrow is heard throughout the nation 7 Is it not that which tells that another of those he roes has gone to the land of silence—gone to join his compeers at that bourne whence no traveller returns. What will be your feelings, friends and neighbors when the mournful tidings shall be proclaimed, that the last of that Hand hasite.. , n gathered to his father's. Let me hninagine one gen eral sound of lamentation and woe, one deep heavy, unsubdued sigh of grief. The old, the young, the brother and sister—the father and miller, all, of either sex will with one aspiration, send forth the wail for the departed. Every tongue will ex claim. "The last link i, broken" —a gen eral burst of sorrow, though silent, will declare a nation's gratitude. to them who secured their country its freedom. Such fellow Mechanics, Fellow Labor ers, and fellow Freemen, is a brief and feeble history of the men and their char acters, who met, and vowed to do or die. Who liven to fulfil that vow, or slept in the grave of honor with the stars and stripes, flustiog triumphantly above the bloody field. Such was their glorious he quest, such their bright example. They were men like ourselves, they were actu ated by the same passions—the same hopes and fears. They sought not power, they proclaimed to the world that "all into were crewel free and equal." They scouted that old dogma, that "Kings can do no wrong"—They secured to the poor est laborer in our soil, the highest round on the ladder of preferment and Fame, and to receive a distinction more Imams ble than a star or a garer,—the tears, the gratitude, the confidence—and the sutrra gesof a free people. Allow me to ask, who were they ? Let me answer; they were the sons of toil,— the mechanic, the laborer, and the farmer. The blacksmith left his anvil,—the shoe raaker his last—the carpenter his plane-- the farmer his plough, and the It borer his spade. The farm was l e ft unfill e d, and the loom was silent. The note of prepa ration, told that every man had resolved to break the chains of oppression, and e rect a temple to freedom, and to nurture it with his blood and the tears of bereaved kindred—should he perish in the at tempt.. Ifiethren, theirs is a bright example. We, as mechanics, may emulate their vir. tues—mav attain their honors and die• tinction, in every thing except the crea , tam of a new government, and the over, throw of the oppressors of the poor. We, who have to "beg of our fellow men the privilege to toil,"--who earn to day, that which is required fur subsistence to-mors row ;—we have a destiny, not less impor tant than theirs, to our posterity. Ours is the task to keep alive that spirit which actuated them —to cultivate among our selves a spirit of charity and forbearance: to live for, with, and by, each other—to cast aside every party, sectional, or per sonal prejudice,—to mingle in the crowd who seek to tube and govern us; aml, by our determination, and unflinching hon esty in the canoe of patriotism, make our selves heard above the violence and hur rah of party strife. Learn, fellow free men, to study the economy of our govern ment. Learn to let your voices be heard above the tumult of partisans. and their strife for spoils. Learn to be first in the defence of right—the establishmant of truih, and the triumph of blth. Learn ' of each other what is best calculated to secure to your children those benefits which were bought by the blood and toil of our fathers. Strive to be foremost in knowing what are the rights of a freeman; and let not the wily and deceptive argu ments of the demapogue, delude you from the path of patriotism and virtue. To vou belongs the task of preiervinir those liberties, so dearly purchased. You are all aware of this important fact. Men of every trade were among the bravest sol diers, and wisest statesmen, in that day which tried men's souls. They had no • sinister motive. They sought no emis nence but such as was stained by the success of their cause, and the permanent blessing of their country ; and, shall we, ' their decendants, pollute the fountains of patriotism with the foul miasma which ri• see above the foetid plain of party strife ' Never ! Forbid it, shades of Sheraton ' and Franklin. Let us not so far forget ' their examples and admonitions. and the glory of our Republic as to prove recre ' ant to ourselves. It is of us, who know the value of our institutions, that much, very much, is re quired. I care not what may be the opin ions of others, I unhesitatingly declare, that among the working classes nine tenths of all true patriotism exists. Do not let me be understood as casting a stigma up on any who have been thus fortunate as to be beyond the necessities of toil. Far be it from me. The sons of toil have [Wnwr.r No. 291 nothing but their liberty and their homes to defend—the Inbnr of their hands is their only wealth. Their whole is the sacrifice, should that dread time ever come, when the spoiler shall trample on this fair fabric. 'Their interest is above all others. The pampered son of afflu ence, can purchase peace, and protection at the throne of the most cruel and cor rupt tyrant, while the more honest labor er is forced to receive the yoke of bon dage,or die with the brand in his hand ,tle. fending that home, and that liberty. There is none within the sounding of my voice, who does not know, who cannot estimate the certainty of his fate, should that day ever arrive (which God Mrbiil) when the manacles of the despot shall clank upon the limbs of an American Freeman. "How could you re,t within your graves, And leave your homes, the homes of slaves; Would you not hear your children tread With clanking chains above your head?" Do you not all feel with me, that ours 14 an important destiny? I feel confi• dent that you do; and if l have ever lived one moment of pride and pleasure, it is this. The scene here presented. One great brotherhood of N•iture's Noblemen met together, around the shrine of their country. Burying under the ark of their political covenant, all party prejudices— all party strifes—all sectiona. and person al feelings; and like a band of brothers joined—united in offering their sacrifices on the altar of their common country.-- These are noidle thoughts. We look up on this day as the dawn of brighter•pros poets. It tells that discord cannot lon ger divide US. That we now find that we have common interest--common hopes —common fears—and a common country. That the dny is not far distant, when the man who earns his bread by the sweat of his brow, will meet on the forum the wi liest demagogue, and with plain truth as his weapon, scatter to the four winds the sophistry and falsehood of the practiced politician. No matter under what came he hides ,deceit. They owe it to them selves—to their country, and to posterity, Ito watch with careful eyes, every move ment that may tend to weaken the in,ti tutions of their couatry ; and what more proper day to commence - the gond work than the present. The day when the 1 yoke of bondage was broken, and the broad stripes and bright stars, proclaimed, I on every sea, the thirteen united colonies free and independent States. Let us, then, here, with our own hands and hearts, unite around the altar of our country, with that proud banner of our country fluttering to the breeze, pledge , ! eternal fidelity to our own and our coun try's cause. We have nn hope but in the preservation of our liberties. When our 1 Institutions shall crumble to' the earth. Mien legal authority is not as quickly extended to save the poor and friendless from abuse, as the property of the rich from the hand of the spoiler,—when all this shall come, that will be a day of sor , row and suffering to the children of toil. ..... The question is now answered, wheth er a government resting on the affections of the people can stand the test of time. Time has but strengihend and beautified it. The envenomed shafts of faction have been broken against its pillars of ad amant, and the bolts of war have fallen harmless on its pinnacles ; and in every valley—on every hill, the fire of patriotism ''glows brightly in the humblest cot. It has been said, that a Republic to sub gist, must be a nation of soldiers. That in peace. arts and agriculture would be alike disregarded. That people who for med laws would feel above their control Let the forests that have fallen by the axe—the villages reared where but a few years since the wild beast had its lair,— The canals and rail-roads on the spot where the footpath of the Indian were the only sign of human beings. Let the hum of business which is heard on every breeze. Let the inventions of American Genius—the success of our manufactures. Let the peace and quiet of our large as semblies, when compared with the wan. ton riutings of other countries, furnish the answers. Go ask the citizen of the world to mention the land where the path of in dustry and rectitude is the highway to plenty and preferment—where every man no matter what be his country, his opin ions or his occupation, may come and go unquestioned. Where Education sheds her light around the humblest hearth stone. Where, in truth, all are at liberty to do what is right, and finds the greatest restraint for doing wrong; and rest assu red that he will name that land, which, thanks be to God, we call our own, K ith a few more words I shall conclude. Long may the principles and precepts of our venerated It ashington remain out chart on the ocean of human affairs. The events of sixty-five years have gone be fore our view. Let us stretch our an:. ions eyes to discern through the red Le• fore us, some alight glimp.e of the future. Shall we go on ascending the path of pros perity, or will that day come, when we shat) live only in the records of history,
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