VOL. VIII. No. O.] PUBLISHED BY THEODORE H: CREMER, T 37.110. The "Jou mint." will be published every Wednesday moe log, tit two dollars a year, if paid TN ADVANCE, and if not paid within six months, two dollars and a halt'. No subscription receive:l for a shorter pc • riod than six months, nor any paper discon tinued till all arrearages are paid. Advertisements not exceeding one square, will be inserted three times for one dollar, and for every subsequent insertion twenty five cents. If lip definite orders are given as the•time an advertisement is to be citation sta,tit:will be kept in till ordered out, and Fltarged accordingly. ~..."....,,,‘_- •Ik i i ____ ;4l l • v -,- ;qe . ,, 1 0 ±r - . - - T r iv, ~.,9„-;:, -f-10 ---t,fAggr ::,44,40 P0ET7.17. II A GA R. She fled, with one reproachful look On him, who ba.le her go, And scarcely could the Patriarch brook That glance of voiceless woe ; In vain her quivering lips essay'd His mercy to implore, Silent, the mandate she obey'd. And there was seen no more. The burning waste and lonely wild, Received her as she went. Hopeless, she chisp'd her fainting child, With thirst and sorrow spent, And in the wilderness so decor, She rais'd her voice on high, Arid sent forth that heart-stricken prayer— " Let me not see him die!" • Her beautiful, her only boy, Her all of hope below! So long his father's pride and joy, And yet from him the blow! Alone she must his head sustain, And watch his sinking breath, And on Isis bright brow mark the stain Of the destroyer, Death! 4 . Let me not see him die," and lo! The messenger of peace: Once more her tears forget to flow, Once more her sorrows cease. Life, strength and freedom now are given With mighty power, to one Who ft ow his father's ro , Jf was driven, And he—the outcast's son. How often we like Hagar mourn, When some uulook'd for blight Drives us away, no more to turn . To joys we f.incitd bright. Forced from our idols to retreat, And seek the Almighty's care, Perchance we are sent forth to meet The desert angel there! ICEIOZZaLANZIOTTEI. MARTHA. WASHINGTON. DT MRS. ,IGOURIVEY The state of society in Virginia, a cen. tury since, was unique and imposing.— The "Ancient Dominion" retained stroll. ger features of resemblance to the father land, than anti• of its sisters. rite man. ners of the ',utility ol England had been transplanted, with little radical change, to the territory of Powhattiin :-- A kind of feudal magnificence, a high and quick sense of honor, a ;;,onerous and lordly hos pitality, early characterized a State which has given to this western empire so many of its mightiest and noblest names. One of the most immediate changes ur• icing ft um the severance from the mother country, was the breaking doer of that courtly and almost solemn etiquette which had marked the intercourse of the higher classes, " t know your age by the edi tion of your manners," said a lady of discernment to a gentleman distinguished for politeness. " I am certain that you were educated before the revolution." But the republicanism which may have possibly swept with too tell a tide over our natural manners, had at the period of which we speak, no existence in Virginia. The levees of her royal governors, though stripped of monarchial pomp, displayed a remnant of those " stately steppings ol chivalry," with which the titled and val iant, of a still earlier age, were accustom ed, in European courts, to pay homage to beauty and to rank. It was early in the winter of 1748, that the levees of Governor Gooch opened with unwonted splendor at Williamsburg.— Many of the members of the assembly took thither with them a part of their families, ;hand this session was graced by the pres. .Hence of several young highborn maidens, who had never• before been presented at mtte,t. One among them was evidently the theme of general admiration. Some ~.9t.thrlftatelier matrtins criticised her as THE J.T.I RNAL. HUNTINGDON, PENNSYLVANIA, WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 22. 1843. deficient in height. But, though some what beneath the middle stature, she pos sessed that round and exquisite symmetry, which the earlier historians have ascribed to the fascinating Anne Boleyn. A pure complexion, and clean eye, were finely contrasted with dark, glossy, and redun• slant hair. Still, it was found difficult, by common observers, to analyze her beauty; fur it rested not on any predominant gift, but on the consent of the whole person in loveliness. Grace of movement, and met. tidy of voice, were confessed to be among its elements. More of animation was hers, than is wont to distinguish the modern southern beauty ; but what chiefly won old and young, was a bland cheerfulness. the silent history of the soul's happiness, and an expressive smile, inspiring every beholder with confidence, like a beam Irons the temple of truth. 'Though she had scarcely numbered twice eight summers, there was about her a womanly dignity, which chastened for ward admiration into respect. Among those who paid their deco this lovely young creature, WAS Col. Cus tis, one of the must accomplished gentle men of I.is time. His father, the Hon. John Custis, of Arlington, held the office of king's counsellor, and was a man of wealth and distinction. His attendance at Williamsburg, during the present sea-, shin, had been somewhat interrupted by ; and while there, the graver du.' ties of the statesman had so far absorbed him, us to leave him ignorant what reign ing beauties had produced sei.sation at court. Not long after the suspension of the levees, and the return , 1 the burges ses to their ironies, the counsellor reques ted a conversation, in his private cabinet, with his son, Colonel Daniel Park Custis. There was a singular mixture of gravity and condescension in his manner, as he desired him to be seated, thus opened the discourse: " I have for some time wished to see you on an intxresting subject. Though still young, I consider you to have arrived at years of discretion." The colonel bowed. trust I have always shown that goal for your welfare, which is due from an affectionate father to an only son. 1 am about to give another proof of it. In short, I wish you to turn your attention to a suitable marriage." The colonel bowed. You know Colonel Byrd, of Westev er, to be my very particular friend. His daughter is one of the most beautiful and accomplished ladies in V,rginia. It is my desire that you loon with her a mate uuo nial alliance." " My dear sir, I have nut the vanity of supposing that I could render myself ac ceptable to Miss Byrd." " No objection on that head. Her lath• er and myself have settled it. Indeed, I may as well tell you that we have had numberless conversations on this uusiness, and that you have both been as betrothed from the cradle. Think, my son, of the advantages of such a connection, the con tiguity of wealth and power that will ulti mutely pass into your hands." " A4l;ctinn, 511 7 , seems to me to be the only bond that can hallow so intimate a oflion. Not even my reverence for the, best of lathers could induce me to enter into it from mercenary motives." Mercenary, sir; mercenary! Who ever, before, dared to couple that word with my name ?" exclaimed the counsellor, raising himself to his full height, and tix. , Mg a kindling eye upon his son._ 'ri.en, pacing; the apartment a few turns, he stopped opposite to hi in, and added, You speak of the ail.•ction that should precede nom iage. Have the goodness to understand that the misplacing of yours may materially affect your patrimonial in , heritance." He seemed to wait for a reply, but in vain, May I inquire, if you have thought 6t, th is early, to de tide seriously on the preference of any ! young lady as a companion for life ?" " litaye; bir." • "Nay 1 he layered with a knowledge of her name f" Miss Martha Dandridge." The high•spiriied gentlemen parted in mutual resentment; but the reflection of a night restored them to better feelings.— The father began to excuse the son, by re calling the warmth of hig. , own early at tachment; while his sun referred the test iness of the lather to the harrowing dis appointment of a long-cherished plan, and '1 to the querulousness of feeble health.— Still, us it usually happens with proud men, neither opened his heart to the other; and a slight, though almost imprecepti ble shade of coldness gathered over their intercourse. But this interview served as a stimulant to the progress of matrimo• ny. The temporary reserve of the father, throwing something like gloom over the paternal mansion, heightened the frequen cy and fervor of the visits of the lover:— The gentle object of his preference im agined no barrier to an alliance, where eai,tc,i no envious inequality ; and he forcbme to communicate what would "ONE COUNTRY, ONE CONSTITUTION, ONE DESTINY." only occasion perplexity, and what he trusted would soon vanish like the " base less fabric of a vision." According to his happy presuence,the lofty counsellor gave his consent to the nuptials, and the flower of the court of Williamsburg become a bride, in the blush of her seventeenth summer. Their residence was a retired and ro mantic mansion on the banks of the Pamunkey. It reared its white walls amid a profusion of vines and flowering trees. Broad plantations and the wealth of Vir ginia forests variegated the grounds.— Rural occupation, and the delight of each other's society, prepared for them what they deemed a paradise. In visits to their favored dwelling, the counsellor learned to appreciate the treasures of his new daughter. Her excellence in the respon sible sphere to which she was introduced, won his regard; and with the ingenuous. ness of an honorable mind, when convin ced of error, he sought every opportunity of distinguishing that merit, which lie had once been reluctant to admit. When he saw the grace and courteousness with which she maintained a generous hospital ity ; the judgment far beyond her years, displayed in the management of her ser• vants ; the energy, the early rising, the cheerful alacrity with which she regula ted and beautified the internal mechan ism of her family ; the disinterestedness with which she forgot herself, and sought the good of others; but, above all, her un tiring devotion to her husband, and to the little ones who sprung up around her; he for ied in the sentiment of his son, which, indeed, be had always believed, though lie was once in danger of swerving front it, that strong personal affection is essen ttial to the basis of matrimonial happiness. But the scene of exquisite felicity was not long to last. The death of her two eldest children prepared the way for a deeper loss of her beloved and estimable husband. In the trying situation of a young. beautiful, and wealthy widow, and a mother, she was still enabled to conduct herself with unvarying discretion, and faithfully to perform every importast duty. It was in the spring of 1758, that two gentlemen, attended by a servant, were seen riding through the luxuriant scenery . with which the county of New Kent, in Virginia abounds. The most striking figure of the group was tall, grace ful, and apparently twenty-five or twenty six years of age. He would have been held a model for statuary when Rome was in her best days. His companion was an elderly titan, in a plain garb, who, by the lamililiarity with which he pointed out surrounding objects, would seem to be taking his daily rounds upon his own es tate. As they approached the avenue to an antique mansion, he placed his hand upon the rein of his companion. " Nay, Colonel Washington, let it never be said that you passed the house of your lather's friend without dismount ing. I roust insist spun the honor of de taining you as my guest." Thanks to you, dear sir, but I ride in haste, the bearer of despatches to our Governor in Williamsburg, which may not brook delay." "Is this the noble steed which was given you bv the dying Braddock, on the fatal field of Monongahela I and this the servant which he bequeathed you at the same time?" . Washington answered irithe affirmative. "Then, my dear Colonel, thus 'counted and attended, you may well dine with me, abil by borrowing somewhat of this fine moonlight, reach Williamsburg ere his excellency shall have shaken 011 his morn ing slumbers." Do I understand that I may be excu sed immediately after dinner?" " Certainly,' " Then, sir, I accept your hospitality ;" and gracefully throwing himself from the charger, he resigned the rein to his En glish servant, giving , at the same time, strict orders as to the hour when he must be ready with the horses to pursue their journey. "I am rejoiced, Colonel Washington," said the hospitable old gentleman, thus fortunately to have met you nu my morn ing ride ; and the more so, as I have some guests, who may make the repast pass pleasantly, and will not fail to appreciate our young and vulliant soldier." Washington bowed his thanks, and was introduced to the company. Virginia's lar.famed hospitality was well set forth in that spacious baronial hall. Precise in his houshold regulations, the social feast was closed at the time the host had pre• dieted. The servant also was punctual. He knew the habits of his master. At the appointed moment he stood, with horses comparisoned,at the gate; and much did he marvel, as iistening to every footstep that paced down the avenue, he saw the sun sink in the west, and yet no master appeared. At length orders came that the horiett should be put up for the night.— Wonder upon wonder I when his business with the govarnor was so urgent I The sun was high in the heavens the next day, ere Washington mounted for the journey. No explanation was given. liut it was rum: ed that among the guests was a beautiful and youthful widow, to whose charms his heart had responded. This was further confirmed by his tarrying but a brief space at Williamsburg, retracing his route with unusual celerity, and be coming a fru - lent visitor at the house of the late Colonel Custis, in that vicinity, where the following year, his nuptials were cel ebrated. Ileaceforth, the life of the lady of Mount Vernon, is a part of the history of her country. In that hallowed retreat she was found entering into the plans of Was! ington, sharing his confidence, and making his household happy. There, her only daughter, Martha Custis, died in the bloom of youth ; and a few years after when the troubles of the country drew her husband to the post of commander-in-chief of her armies, she accompanied him to Boston, and witnessed its siege and evac uation. For eight years, he returned no more to enjoy his beloved residence, on the banks of the Potomac. During his ah sence.,trie made the most strenuous eftbris to discharge the added weight of care, and to endure, with changeless trust in Hea— ven, continued anxiety for the safety of one inexpressibly dear. At the close of each campaign, she repaired in Compliance with his wisha, to head quarters, where the !idles of the general officers joined her in forming such society as diffused a cheer. ins influence over even the gloom of the winter of Valley Forge and Morristown. The opening of every campaign was the signal of the return of Lady Washington, (as sl.e was called in the army,) to her do. mesticcares at Mount Vernon. "I heard," said she, "the first and the last cannon of the revolutionary war." The rejoicings, which attended the surrender of Corn wallis, in the autumn of 1781, marked for her a season of the deepest sorrow. Her only child, Colonel John Custis, the aid de-camp to Washington, became, during his ar!uous duties at the siege of York town, the victim of an epidemic fever, and Idiem at the age of twenty-seven. Ile was but a 'Noy of five years, at the time of her second marriag e, and had drawn forth strongly the affection and and regard of her illustrious husband, who shared her affliction for his loss, and by the tenderest sympathy strove to alleviate it. At the close of the war, a few year, were devoted to the enjoyment and em bellishment of their favorite Mount Ver non. The peace and returning prosperity of their country, gave pure and bright in , gredients to their cup of happiness. Their mansion was thronged with guests of dis tinction, all of whom remarked, with ad miration, the energy of Mrs. Washington, in the complicated duties of a Virginia housewife, and the elegance and grace . with which she presided at her noble board. The voice of a free nation, conferring on General Washington the highest honor in its power to bestow, was not obeyed without a sacrifice of feeling. It was in the spring of 1789, that, with his lady, he bade adieu to his tranquil abode, to as stnne the responsibility of the first presi dency.l In forming his domestic estaia lisliment, he mingled the simplicity of a republic with that degree of dignity which he felt was necessary to secure the re spect of older governments. The furni ture of his house, the livery of his ser vants, the entertainment of his guests, displayed elegance while they rejected ostentation. lu all these arrangements, ISlrs. Washington was a second self. Her Friday evening levees, at which he was al. ways present, exhibited that perfect..eti- (plate which marks the intercitarse of the dignified and high bred. Commencing at seven and closing at ten, they lent no more sanction to late hours than to levity. The first lady of the nation still preserved the habits of early life. Indulging in no lindulence, site left her pillow at dawn, and alter breakfast retired to her chamber an hour, for the study of the scriptures and devotion. This practice,it is said, during the long period of half a century she nev er omitted. The duties of a Sabbath were dear to her. The president and her:. self attended public worship with regular ity, and in the evening he read to her in her chamber, the scriptures and a sermon. The spring of 1797 opened for them with the must pleasing anticipations. The cares of high office were resigned, and they were about to retire for the remainder of their days, to the beloved shades of NI mint Vernon. The new turf springing into fresh greenness wherever they trod, the vernal blossoms open to receive them, the warbled welcome of the birds were never more dear, as wearied with the toils of public life, and satiated with its hon ors, they returned to their rural retreat, hallowed by the recollections of earlier years, and by the consciousness of virtue. But in two years, Washington was no more. The shock of his death, after an illness of only twenty-four hours, fell like a thundei belt upon the bereaved widow. The piety which had long been her strength continued its support, lint her heart droop. ed; and though her cheerfulness did not utterly forsake her, she discharged her habitual round of duties, as one who felt that the "glory had departed." Haw beautiful and characteristic was her reply to the solicitations of the highest authority of the nation, that the remains of her illustrious husband might be re moved to the seat of government, and a marble monument erected to mark the spot of their repose: " Taught by the great example which have had so long before me, never to up pose my private wishes to the will of my country, 1 consent to the request made by Congress; and in doing this, 1 need nut, / cannot, say what a sacrifice of individual feeling I make to a sense of public duty." The intention of the Congress of 1797 has never been executed, nor the proposed monument erected. The enthusiasm of the time, passed away, and the many and conflicting cares of a great nation turned its thoughts from thus perpetuating his memory, whose image, it trusted, would be ever enshrined in the hearts of a great people. Scarcely two years of her lonely wid owhood were accomplished, ere the lady of Mount Vernon fotkid death approaching. Gathering her family around her, she im pressed on them the value of that religion which she had tested from her youth on ward to her hoary hairs. Then calmly resigning her soul into the hands of Him who gave it, at the age of seventy, full of years and lull of honors, she was laid in the tomb of Washington. In this outline of the lineaments of Mar tha Washington, we perceive that it was neither the beauty with which she was en dowed, nor the high station which she had attained, that gave enduring lustre to her character; but her Christian fidelity in those duties which devolve upon her sex. These fitted her to irradiate the home, to lighten the cares, to cheer the anxieties, to sublimate the-enjoyments, of him who, in the- expressive language of Chief Jus tice 51arshall, was, "so favored of heaven as to depart without exhibiting the weak ness of humanity." LIST OF TAXABLES AND OF DEAF AND DUMB, BLIND PERSONS, AND SLAVES, IN THE SEVERAL COUNTIES OF PENNSYLVANIA : FROM THE RETURNS MADE TO THE GOVERNOR, IN THE YEARS 18423; READ IN THE HOUSE OF REP RESENTATIVES, JANUARY 12, 1843. COUNTIES.I Ta xa-i Deaf dzi Blind bles. numb. Adams Allegheny Armstrong Beaver B Be le( rk li t :rd i Bradford Bucks Butler Cambria Centre Cheater Clarion Clear lield Clinton Columbia Crawford Cumberland Dauphin Delaware Ede Fayette Franklin GI eerie luntingdun iidiana Jefferson Juniata Lancaster Lebanon Lehigh Luze - rne 1 coining M 'Kean Mercer Mifflin Munroe Mont'ry North'ton City INN co. Perry Pike Potter Schuylkill Somerset Susque'na Tioga Union Veriango Warren Washington Wa±ne West'nd. Wyoming York 387646 Kr We n table, that reference cote in r Mifflin count [Wno&E No. 370. correctly, as only containing one slave, whereas, in, the .15pited States Census, that countris statald as holding within its borders, no less than twelve human beings in bondage. !Hs complained, too, that Philadelphia city is put down ate decrease of over 800 tumbles, when by the census, and beyond a doubt, there is a large in crease. It is insinuated, we,know not on what good ground, that fraud has caused 'this result —fraud fur the purpose of de. priving, the city of her fair share of repre sentation in the legislature.—Pa. ml. The Tolls. We find the subjoined positive and comparative list of tolls, with remarks, in the Pittsburg Advocate, and we copy the whole, with a view of calling the attention of the State authorities to a subject so vital to the interests of the Conimonwealth. It is not necessary . to eiamine and com pare the items—it is enough to know that the tolls Over the Pennsylvania works are too high, far too high ; and, as a conse quence, freight will seek another channel. The Canal Commisaioners, we think, have the care of this matter; but, unfortunate ly, they are . too dependent to act with an enlarged policy that will overlook the consequences of the first year's operation; in order to secure a permanent benefit.— The Legislature should, therefore take the matter in hand, carefully eiamine all the relations of the question, and place the tolls at a rate that will enable the transporting merchants here to compete with those o another U. S. Gus. CANAL TOLLS. At the first opening of our State works, a complicated system of tolli was adOp 7 ted, and has been continued to the present time. By this scale of tolls, articles carried upon our canals and railroads are divided into one hundred and twenty classes, scarcely any two of which pay the same rates, and'each article his subject to pay six distinct items of tolls, viz: 'roll on the railroad on the article di rect. Toll on the car containing the same. Toll for motive power on railroad on the article direct. . . Tull for Motive power on railroad on the car containing the same. Toll on canal on articles direct. Toll on bruit containing the same. As the tolls on cars and boats are the same, whether they are full or empty, it is impossible to determine the actual cost per 100 lbs. on any article, until in reach- es its destination. For example, if there be 2b tons of groceries in a boat, the cost Of tolls from Philadelphia to Pittsburg is cents 4 mills per 100 lbs;if she has 12 tons, it amounts to 67 cents 2 mill per 100 lbs. And further, if the boat . returns empty, ,the mere tolls on her amount to more than $34, or 61. S 6 per ton, which is, of course, chargeable to the tolls on 'Slaves .., 3 1 the single carpi. 9 The Baltimore and Ohio Railroad Com -1 pang divided all articles into four classes, 1 1 and make a simple charge per IGO lbs. Has any person sufficient ingenuity to 2 1 suggest a single reason why this classifi cation ahould riot be estimated on our 31 works ? Steel from Madelphia. to Pittsburg pa y s a toll of 54 cents per 100 lbs. ardware and cutlery from Philadel to Pittsburg, pay a toll of 47 cents per 100 lbs. Why should raw material pay more than the manufactured articles Glassware pays a toll of 54k cts per 103 lbs China and queensware 43 do do . . How can this descrimination against the article we export be explained ? Castor oil pays a toll of 62 cts per 100 lbs. All other oils, 41 do do Why this difference? Butter and cheese pay a toll of 82 cents find 5 mills per 100 lbs. Lard and tallow, SO cts 6 m. per 100 lbs. Bacon, 31 do 5 do do Pork, 29 do 8 do do can any perscin assign a reason for these differences? Wheat, barley, fruits, &c, pay d toll of 39 cents per itio lbs. Flour, 26 cents per 100 lbs. Can any one. (except the miller, who is thus afforded a monstrous advantage over the farmer,)' justify thisl Let these evidences of (lie necessity for a thorough revision of our entire sys tem be examined and considered. The mere examination of the subject will lead to the discovety of very rainy other in consistencies. We would mention a single fact or two. showing the absolute necessity fur .large and decided reduction in the rates of tolls. Dry goods anti groceries pay a toll of 62 cents per 100 lbs, on the Pennsylva nia Canal. The rates of waggon carriage from Bal timore to Pittaburg, is 75 cts. per 100 lbs. The cost of transportation truM Bald. more to Pittsburg, by way of the Baltimore and Oaio Railroad, is about 80 cents pet 100 111 S. on drY goods, ai:d about 70 ,:t.nts on I,ca:•v articles: : e above it dow:. is Liu ts pu'