4111114.4":" # ea." . :, / Jr .... A . - .. ,, K V.) .,... „--- :(4".414;11e)41""—' -1.--_ _ ~. . , , • '', / , ' • ,e i ' it , , , .: , ,•• v e / z i Cri : ' _ .;..,,,,.."- VoL. VII, No. 52.] PUBLISHED DT THEODORE H, CREMER. . be published every ' • g• - - dollars a year, • •' • rind if not paid INiit • ••• , • 7 ` • °blurs and a halt. -• No subscripticin . received for a shorter pe• rind than six months, %or any paper discon tinued till all arrearages areyaid. Advertisements notexceeding one square, w ill be inserted loyee times for one doll*, and forevery su oiequent insertion twenty at, five cents. If nu definite orders are given as 4 to the time an talvertisentent is to be continu ed, it .will be kept in till ordered out, and '... ',t cletreed •Iccordinely. IZ:C'JZ.LLAN.I.OtTe. .71F FIRST LOPE. We were cogitating the other evening on that very singular circumstance, that no one inoi out - id a hundred marries Lis first love, and assignin4 some curious rea- sons therefor, when Fiit-ce for Sepfeinher li, '` ~ I.; fell under our eilitio ial vision, un:i to our mingled astonishment and gratification We found that a !sketch, built upun a Simi. lac foundation, had brcn iurni;lied by one of its contributors. Weil awace that the same feelings that hi our nonage creates linurs of snow and weeps when they melt, would invest a narrow e ven a simple Cc -1 story with interest we have twee 'intim:et! to give it in a concentrated Inuit to our readers, and so without delaying them a- r ~~ ny longer from its pei•usiil, here it, is : " 1 was sixteen, just sixteen, when I first saw Sat a ll elte was somewhat old- der than myself, but we belonged to that globous portion of our race—boys and girls. 1 hail read Klopstock, and she had wept uvet erter ; and the tt mid seemed in our eyrsa blessetl enigma! Sarah was 4 the sister of pne of toy school fellows, a iieriuwi quiet lad, who loved those (lest Who were must unlike himself; and as I was a noisy, racketty, over-head-and-heels sort of fellow, he used S L., lista!) to all my ' mad schemes and rapid elocution with placid pati,ll, wish 'that he had more, and twat I had less, or the de,il in our natures.' Jabez (alas: that a iv friend of mine should have been thus baptised) was, however, no dolt. Ile ii as at once an artist and a poet; but Moreland 'vas the painter he studied as a painter, and Shenstone's sil ver rhymes were to Min exquisite. Sarah was tall, graceful, and diffident, and often reminded me of a hart surprised at a foun tain, scarcely able to decide whether to a gain drink, or instantly fly. tier blush es were so frequent that it was not easy to settle the point whether site was natur ally pale or rosy ; but her roses were of a hue the most delicate, aid when she threw some life and soul into her conver sation, and when her eyes were brighten ed by her thoughts and feelings, site was charming indeed. 1 first saw tier during the summer holydays, on one of those long bright days during which the hours steal so winningly along, that there is always a confusion in one's mind whether it be morn, noon, or eve. When Sarah miter ed the room, she appeared to know me be• forehand. My kind playmates had rep• resented me in too glue ing colours, and she canoe laughing towards me, as though she expected a joke or a pun in the first two minutes. 6he told me afterwards that I looked graver than she hail antici pated, and then when I dieourr.ed in a sort of loosing style, of music and the fine arts, she said within herself, has played us a trick,—this youth is a ;Milos opher.' But she very speedily discovered her error, for my sighs told her that I was in 'love at first sight and as night ap • proached, and it was time to retire, the conversation became momentarily so pen sive, that 1 am by no means certain that our eyes were not moistened by tears.— I know mine were; perhaps hers were not. What could those tears on my part a mount to P They were not of apprehen sion that I should not meet her again; for her father had given me a general invita tion to spend as much of my vacation as I could with his son. So we could meet, and talk, and laugh and love, as we pleas- ed; and yet at least my eyes were dim med as we exchanged the shake of the hand at the moment of departure. 1 sup. pose my emotions were a 'portion of the bliss of loving. There is such a difference between the joy which is represented by laughing, and the happiness which dis plays itself in tears. Yes•—the tears of joy; the big heart so full of delight, as to seek for relief through the medium of the eyes; that voluptousness of feeling and ad oration when two hearts feel they are but one, and that in that one in placed the o ther heart you have trade your own. So I looked, so I felt, so I sighed, and so I wept—silently and stealthily ; and then the next moment we had parted. Jabez would walk with tee a portion of my path way home ; but even he found me so dull a companion, that he asked if I the was tiredil or unwell. The shirting moon, br liant heavens,the spangled flelils,the sweet ; ~ t •— • . ft, In A: _ , .'N H ; ..! ~.t. , . . . ' f .7', .' ' • v :. ~ i . ~. 0. t o. i . 014 A °. , •;... ....',:„&,..... bmelling flowers the voices of the birds, ;Lod the homeof my affections, had in a few short hours all - lost their charms, and whatever was bright, beautiful, and per t;ct, appeared concentrated in one being —Sarah ! Nly sister rallied tine in vain. She noticed my dullness--feared that 1 m i d fatigued myself—a,ked, I thought, with flinethingof rogueishness in her manlier, " W !rat l thought of Miss-7" and of course 1 exiolled — her to the skies. in toy pretty casement bedroom 1 soon retired,and with pet' ano paper passed the live-long night. rirst came stanzas,— then a sonnet,--then a declaration of love, —then an attempt at a love-letter,—then a sketch of toy charmer,—and, last of all, written vows, to be registered in heaven,— thdt never would toy heart consent to love, or to be loved by another. My pocket money I appropriated by anticipation, in presents to icy lair one. My hair was to be worn in a locket; myporti•olt was to be concealed in the back (11 . a broach ; one of her rin;lets, purchased by tears, entreat . .. . . . ies, and kisses, was to be kept close to my heart; anti when abs,nt Irene each other, oy.pale Fi ogara's trimbling light' we were tip meet in imag ination , and contemplate that orb of night until our souls should be warmed, and even our hearts blended, by the knowledge that at that moment our thoughts were devoted exclusively to each other. 'lids was my 'programme.' I think I must add, in justice to my enthu ,idsin, that although my academical pur suits were to be conduetod many miles from Sarah's residence, yet that the wings of love were to carry me at least once a week to some spot we were to select for the meeting of but a few minutes ; and my half holydays were to be consecrated, if not to such visits, at least to the ensions of piwtry, or to the ardent and and olt-re rated declaration of a boundless and e. Lrnal sympathy and regard. The past hud been my own; the future was to be hers. Anil it was to' be hers, because I had ceased to think of, to appreciate, to care for, or to love niyAelf. It was to be hers, because she was .the only being who niy i li l eWrslip a p s daVWalikgry Anwerut. ins of my nature for a never dying love.' M I this I wrote, and re-wrote, in one short night ; and the next morning, was e ven exhilarated by the depth of my emo• lions. Charles Valentine, for such was the name of our good and gallant friend,--and a finer fellow for every sort of lark, front ringing gate-bells, and then running away, to poaching in spite of the Game -keepers, and to ki.sing the young girls in the hay and cortill , lds, never existed on the face of the e.,rth,—proposed a visit to a neigh bouring village where a bowling-green and • stone homing cider would amuse and cheer us. Oh, what a mess I made of my I bowling that day I 1 was ordinarily look-1 ell upon as a tolerably good hand, and rather sought for a partner than other wise. But that day my young heart was bowling away in a very different direction; and played so much at random, that at length Charles and Jabez took to rating and railing at me. It was all of no use; and I had neither peace nor pleasure till, at the hour of four, I found myself seated by Sarah's side at the dinner table of tier fath er. flow it happened that I was so seat ed, I really connot tell ; but I felt that I was the mos; favored of human beings to be placed so near her. She laughed, I thought rather more than usual, evidently sought to be gayer than was her custom, would not look melancholy or pensive to please me, and joked with Jabez and Charles Valentine, about their cider and their bowls. I forgot all about the din ner, except that it was short and sweet; and that I felt the dinner-table when the ladies rose, avoiding the Wine bottle, and every other temptation which could sepa rate me and Sarah. Moore's Melodies were played and sung one after the other by my charmer, and her youngest sister; and tho igh I was but a lad of sixteen, .I.esbia bath a beaming eye,' gave me a pang, and much solicitude. flow selfish is true love! I had never seen Sarah but • two or three times in my life, and that at large mixed country parties, before the day 1 vowed to live for her—for ever.— But a few hours had transpired since I had allowed my heart to be made a captive to her charms; and new I envied the very servants their positions, and longed to be one of them, that I might at least see and gaze upon her at morn, at noon and at dewy eve. tier kindly smiles on Charles were to me most withering. She kissed her father. I could not for the life of me even like those kisses. tier sister placed her arm around Sarah's waist. I would have given my existence at that moment to have enjoyed the same privilege. She played with her mother's hair, and called her 'dearest.' I could not love that word, even thought it came from her lips, because it was applied to another than myself.— The evening was exquisite ; and I was so subjugated by the power of 'first love,' that it is most probable I looked snore silly titan wise and more sentimental than gay 4111 #1e" As " B ONE COUNTRY, ONE CONSTITUTION, ONE DESTINY." HUNTINGDON, PN.:NNSYVANIA, WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 11, 1843 and brilliant. I remember, however, that at "magical music" I was somewhat suc cessful, and that at "charades" I made a hit or two, which no one applauded more heartily than Sarah. At last came the walk, the ramble, the roaming, all scatter-I ed, dispersed, independent. I found my. self. however, very near my angel; and I • expatiated on the beauties of nature, and I know not what besides, till Jabez told me I was "prosy;" when Sarah laughed at his joke, and began a gypsy song. But blush. es alter blushes prevented her from pro• ceeding, for many eyes were fixed on her; and though she could warble delightfully when unnoticed,it seemed as Wall her pow ers of captivation were stopped the mo ment she felt that she was the subject of attention. In the course of the long walk, there were many most unfortunate paus es. I often resolved to fill them up by repeating the declaration of the morning : but, "my heart was in my mouth," and I was much more eloquent by my signs than by any phrases. I was angry with mysell for my cowardice, but my vanity said it was only timidy. Then why was I timid! I was young. That I thought a sufficient excuse one minute, and the next I tho't it was no excuse at all. The walk drew to a close, the next day and the day after I knew I was pledged to spend in a very different direction with cousins and aunts. How could I exist for twice twenty-four hours without a knowledge that I was be loved 1 I felt I could not. Again and a-1 g A in, as I walked by he'r side, the words ! once more were nearly escaping from my lips; but at length 1 gave uttereute to the inquiry. "Do you love me!" "Don't talk nonsense!" was her only answer; and she then bounded along with the light step of a fawn to her father,whu was before us. i I could not say another word alone to her; that night, fur she did not leave his side till the walk was ended; and,as the shades of evening had drawn in upon us, "Good night," were the only words she pronoun ced when I took leave of her kind and am• iable family. Jabez as usual, would ac company me during a portion ot my walk, and frioLulshiry,lol;vh "You seem very fund of nay sister Sarah, and I think she likes you." "Do you i" I inquired with palpita ting anxiety. a Why do you think site likes me!" Because she said so,"replied my open friend. Here the conversation dropped. Did she mean liked or loved 7 1 flattered myself the latter, and so I sank to rest on my Liry couch, and had blissful dreams. I saw a Wry troop of light and beauteous seraphims come dancing over pastures of flowers, and ofshrubs without thorns. I sasv them sprinkle around them the most exquisite exotics and small ripe fruit, such as I had never gaz ed on before. When the fruit reached the ground, each lilac•colored berry (for such was the fruit) suddenly opened, and from each rose a fairy, resembling in eve ry respect my beloved, my adored one. The new fairies in their turn became sera• ;Mims too, and at last there were thousands upon thousands of whirling, dancing, gay, immortal creatures, all engaged in mazy circles, singin,g and smiling, blissful and ecstatic. Suddenly, however, they dis appeared, and but one single lilac berry could I receive on the ground. I made many efforts in my dream to reach it, but some influence or other kept me back.— At length the lilac berry approached toe, and I welcomed it with rapture, 1 touch ed it, and Sarah in all her charms and her loveliness issued forth. I woke ; it was a dream! No; . it was not a dream, for 1 metamorphosed it into reality. The fairy troop of light and beauteous sera phims were the pleasures of life; the (lowers and the exotics were those from which 1 was to make my choice ; the fai ries and the berries were indications of the choice I should make; the single lilac berry left alone on the ground was Sarah herself; whilst the difficulties I had in reaching it were the emblems of the op position which would be made to our sup posed mutual love. But then I had the consolation of knowing, front the last fea ture in my dream, that eventually she would be mine! The nest two days my heart was paci fied, though subdued; by this consolatory vision; but on the third I hastened to Jabez—nay, to his sister —to regale my ears by listening to her voice, and my eyes by feasting on her loveliness and her beauty. lilt where was Sarah 2 " She had just left," I was told coolly and with indifference, "in Mr. Fl txam's carriage to spend two or three weeks in his family circle." Just left!"—" two or three weeks, as though the " two" or the "three" were the same things to me. Cif how my heart hated Mr. Flaxam and his family at that moment. How 1 regretted that 1 had pursued my course through the woods that morning, looking at the wild flowers and musing by the rippling brook ! 111 hail taken the highroad, and walked along ilitobly, 1 should have seen her before her departure, and caught one more glimpse ,of my heart's only treasure. Ohl l forgot," said the youngest sis ter, as though it was a matter of no im portance, " Sarah said that if you asked what had become of her, I was to say that she left a "good by" for you, and hoped you would be a "good boy!" Was that message a rebuke, a proof of love, or u playful act of friendship? I tormented myself a L. ood deal with this important controversy, and found a host of arguments in favor of each proposition. But sell-love triumphed at last, and I ar rived at the c elusion that she left the message be he loved me! When this decision come to, I lived in a bright little d of my own creation the rest of the datt L and only sighed for an op portunity of snlng her, or of communica ting my gratitude and devotedness. How was this to he accomplished ? I asked Jabez to let me know when he wrote, and save me room or a post-scriptum. This was at once good fortune and good man agement, and a few days afterwards the postscript was written, and was worded as follo.rs : "d think when young ladies run away froW their friends they should remember how deep is the sorrow they infl , et on those who remain behind, and should con• sole the abSent by letters both long and frequent, for " Heaven first taught letters for some wretch's aid, Slate banisli'd lover, or some captive maid." " The cottage, the fields, the ferry, and all luck very sadly, and none more so than your most respectful and sincere friend i w * *t, Jabez thought th4lt" excellent fun," and joked about tt at dinner. But his mother betrayed sonic uneasiness, and said, in a mild but expressive manner, that " Sarah never wrote to any one but to her pitrents or her sister, and that 1 Must not expect a reply." " 0:t ! po, no 1" I stammered out, in btolc2n, and singular accents 114 4 ,} 3 1j:•-- t,, te alreattv...v! . hertraiighter, young thoug h 1 was, then fished that love " Which boys feel and poets feign." Of Sarah l said no more, neither that day nor during any future visit in my long holidays. Sometimes, indeed, 1 had a long conversation about the bright one with my friend Jabez, but always alone and in Oa woods, where none but trees and birds could be witnesses of our con fabulations. ..... Week alter week passed away. Sa rah prolonged her visit to the Flaxam's, and toy vacation was nearly over, when my father received an invitation fur him self and family to pass a few days at an archery-meeting in the very village where • my goddess was spending very happy and joyous hours. I prevailed on my lathe' to accept the invitation. I counted the hours previous to our departure ; I resol ved on trying my archery powers in the presence of Sarah herself, and young as I was, I carried or the third prize I That was a moment of exualtalion 1 shall never forget. Sarah admitted my dexterity, applauded my success, and " thought my newly gained bows and arrows very pret ty:" Many a beautiful girl and charming maiden did the same, but Sarah's was " the" praise for me, and I left the village of archery with a bearing heart, but high expectations. When 1 took leave she shook my hand cordially. I. pressed hers with emotion. 1 know not that the sen• timents were widely ditlerent; but at that moment I believed they were the same. Six months 'ldled away. my pri vate education was finished, I returned to my father's house to prepare for college ; and once more the beloved—the adored ' object on whom was concentrated all my hopes of happiness, was before me. 1 had lost none of toy enthusiasm for her. She never had any fur me. My sister will soon he married," said Jabez, one day when it was quite dusk, and we were about separating fur the night. What ! Sarah 1" I asked. " Yes, of course," he replied. " To whom, then—to whom 1" " To Cousin George, who has returnee 'min India will' lots of money, and al hat sort of thing. lie seems very good tempered. Ile is in London preparing the house." There was nothing at that hour be fore me but the blackness of despair. The world, I thought, had no longer flowers or fruit, smiles or hopes, landscapes or happiness; and the noiseless inhabitants of the graves in the, churchyard were the only subjects of my envy. Not long af ter, my tather received an invitation for our family to the marriage-breakfast. I affected indisposition as an excuse for ab sence. Shall I say affected ? No. I was next to dead with sorrow and disap pointment; and my young heart then felt its first griefs. Alas I they were only its b c /) aziVA6 , 1 "/ - `~ _ 'first; for new years brought other griefs with them, and I found what all have dis covered who know and study life,• that roses are less plenteous than thorns, and that weeds are more common than flow• ers. Sarah lived in peace and prosperity; and I afterwards learned by happy and lung experience, that there is a love which is more permanent, real and satisfactory, chastened, sweet, and abiding, than " the first love of sixteen." . 'I say, Sam,' said a plough boy the oth er day to his companion, '1 know a new lashion mackintosh to keep out the wet." "What's that ?" Why, if you eat a red herring fur breakfast, you'll be dry all day. IYIESSAGE. To the e eriatencr liduse of Representa tives o 6% ,, A.9onwealth of Penn'a 'IZENS :—Elaving, in my 41Wre,r 4 ,40e entered very fully into the fines to aundition and other general interestsjfie,§tate, I deem it unneces• sarAtuepea the views then submitted to the ..Legislature, but simply to refer to them, arid, say that they remain in all N- I spectssnlistantially the same as heretofore eilwesied: I shall proceed at once to call your attention to those matters of public policy, which seem to require, in the greatest degree, the attention of the Legislature. In common with every state in the union, and with all parts of the commercial world, the citizens of Penn- sylvania are now undergoing the severe ordeal of pecuniary embarrassment. Busi• ness of all kinds is crippled and paralized; private and public enterprize has been. arrested; the timid alarmed, and even the boldest staggered at impending evils.— But it is some consolation fur us to reflect, that these difficulties are the bitter fruits, so far as Pennsylvania is concerned, of the rash add impolitic legislation of a sin gle year, and that none of the responsi • tvofl tend enjoyitTall trie advantages that can arise from a substantial currency, aid the entire confidence of all parts of the world. At an unfortunate period, the backing capital, which had been, doting this flourishing season, about twenty mil. lions or dolhits, was increased to near sixty ; and, as one of the most fatal conse quences, many unwise and impolitic pub. he improvements undertaken,—corpora dons created for purposes far beyond their means to accomplish,—individuals con tracted responsibilities and entered into speculations, which they were totally unable to brine to a successful close ; and finally to re nder the catastrophe more destructive, the explosion adds enormous bank bubble has crushed al! these enter- prizes, public and private, and left in every quarter of the state some monument of blasted hope and public folly. It will require a little more time to recover from the pante, and to estimate, with precision, the extent of the mischief. It will proba bly be found far less than has been gener ally supposed. The vigor and industry of the community, sustained as they are by our immense natural resources, will soon overcome this temporary repulse, and go on, as if it never had happened.— Some will be unfortunately ruined, but the great mass of the community will in the end be little affected. That portion of the commut.ity engaged in agricultural pursuits is comparatively free from debt and embarrassment, and possessed cf all the'benefits that arise from favorable sea sons and plentiful harvests. I call myself see no just ground for that despondency which seems to pervade, so generally, the minds of the people. The injury of our credit abroad, although pro ductive of much temporary inconvenience, will ultimately be serviceable to the com munity. It will teach us to rely on our• selves, to turn our attention to the devel opment of our own resources, and to obtain that, by our own labor, which we have hitherto bouzlit upon trust. What ever may be the. fears of that portion of our community, who are always predicting ruin, and bemoaning the effects of the causes which they do not understand, will soon prove, that the resources of Pennsylvania, her ability to meet her en gagements, and the respect of her citizens for the plighted faith of the state, have riot been in the slightest degree shaken, by any of the misfortunes under %licit we are now suffering. In nearly all instan• ces, these fears will be found to have had their origin in the croakings of unprinci• pled demagogues, who are willing to undervalue her means, and the integrity of her citizens, if they can thereby pro• mote their own selfish ends. If there be any of our citizens, who luinestly believe, that Pennsylvania will prove unable to perform all her engagements, they will be found to be neither very deep reasoners, nor very accurately acquainted with the abundance and nature of her resources.— 4 4 , - / lt ,„`„ I U [W MULE No. 364. If there be any of her citizens, who think that she will prove faithless and unwilling I to discharge her obligations, we may safely say, they know little of her true charac ter, and meet with no encouragement, or favor, from any considerable portion of the community. To do what she agrees to do, and to pay what the promises to pay, are two of her distinguishing charac teristics; and he who would seek to induce her to forfeit either of them, will find, that he gains neither the confidence, nor re spect, of her citizens by the attempt. She ' may be temporarily obliged to postpone the discharge of her engagements until a more convenient season; bat to deny the obligation itself, or to refuse to comply with it, would be a reproach upon her it . tegrity, which no public man dare advise or sanction. However great her public debt may seem to be, a tax of a lew cents per ton upon her coal and iron, which are scatter ed in every hill and valley throughout her borders, will at some future day not only pay the interest of her public debt, but the principal also, piobably within the lifetime of many of those, who are now upon the stage of public action. This tax would be paid in a great measure by the consumers of these products in other states. and would be scarcely felt by her own citizens. Cut ens this country now is, and must continue to be, from the Euro pean supply of coal and iron, on which it has hitherto chiefly depended, the day is not far distant, when Pennsylvania will supply more than three-fourths of the other states of this union with coal, and a majority of them with iron. This is a position from which no legislation and no human power can remove her. Her geog ,raphical position, and 'the favorable rela tive locations of her coal and iron depos its, put Pennsylvania beyond the reach of all rivalry front any quarter. She seems to have been destined, by nature, to be the great workshop of the American Union ; and, it her citizens and her le gislature are true to themselves, and will avoid catering to the views and interests i)Ut Tait - 1 ix have no cause to regret the construction of her public improvements, which have contributed to the developement of these advantages. This is nut the language of sanguine hope, or blind confidence, but of clear-sighted, practical experience, of the truth of which every unprejudiced man must be convinced, who will carelally in vestigate the facts relating to her condi tion. At the close of the last war, the pecu niary embarrassment and distress pei vas ding our country, were far greater than they are now. We had just emerged froth a protracted, expensive, and harrassing war. The national debt was nearly one hundred and thirty millions of dollars; business of all kinds was broken up ; con fidence was entirely destroyed, all classes of the community were in debt; our banks broken and worthless ; public feeling weakened and shaken to a degree infi nitely beyond what is now known; and, worse than all this, rankling political ani mosities against the then administration of the general government had created, or raised up, a powerful, unscrupulous, and violent party, under the plausible name 'of the " Peace Party," which threw in the way of the administration every pos- sible obstacle, in the triumphant prosecu tion of that war, or the correction of the evils which it inevitablfentailed upon the country. But, notwithstanding all these. formidable discouragements, the good sense, the enterprtze and the patriotism Of the people, seconded those then entrus ted with the administration of the govern• went, who perfortned their duty with Ito ! man firmness and integrity. Taxes were . recommended, levied, and paid, to sustain , the credit and honor of the government, - —confidence was restored; business re . sowed its accustomed channels, and one of the most flourishing seasons in the history of our country succeeded. The enormous debt was, in the process of time entirely extinguished. Those who recommended the necessary measures to the attainment of this great end have been rewarded with respect and gratitude.— The same honest and fearless discharge of duty, will be attended with the same results now. Our history has never yet recorded a single instance, in which a public man, who stood by the honor of his country in critical emergencies, was not fully sustained in his efforts b y his citizens. lie may be traduce d and villi• Red, but a manly and faithful discharge of duty outlives the efforts of his tradu. cers. The proudest monument that a public man can desire to leave his chil dren, is one inscribed—he knew his duty —he dared perform it—he never flinched from his post. The whole amount of the present fun ded debt of the state, exclusive of the deposite of the surplus revouue, is 01%- 937,788 Q 4. This debt is reinViertable as follows ~2
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