Huntingdon journal. (Huntingdon, Pa.) 1843-1859, October 07, 1846, Image 1

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VOL, XT, NO, 88,
cfX coLnmns:s..
• The “JourirrAt" will he published every Wed
nesday morning, at $2 00 a year, if paid in advance,
and if not paid within six months, $2 60.
No subscription received for a shorter periodthan
six months, nor . any paper discontinued till all ar
tearages are paid.
Advertisements not exceeding ono square, will be
inserted three times for $1 00, and for every subse
quent insertion 25 cents. If no definite orders are
givenss to the time an advertisement is to be continu
ed, it will be kept in till ordered out, and charged ac
l. V. B. PALMER, Esq., is authorized to act
se Agent for this paper, to procure subscriptions and
advertisements in Philadelphia, New York, Balti
more and Boston
Philadelphia—Number 69 Pine street.
Bailimore—S. E. corner of Balt:more and Cal
vert streets.
New York—Number 160 Nassau street.
Boston—Number 16 State street.
Go, search the records of the pad,
Thine eye on heathen learning cast;
Go, ask of Grecia'a pride and shame--
Rome's injured purchaser of fame;
Go, where repentance dropp'd a tear,
Go, where the prayers of saints appear :
'Mid all the beauties opening there,
Unequall'd steads this simple prayer—
Search deep amid the extensive field
Of virtues, modern writers yiehl :
The history of the world unfold,
It. brightest moral gems behold,
And tell, in present or in past,
Con she ono jewel from her cast,
With half the beauty glistening there
That's found in Jesus' simple prayer—
See Him betrayed, forsaken, sad ;
View Him in purple mockery clad;
Denied, insulted, scourged, reviled;
With brow unshadow'd, placid, mild,
See him away to Calvary led,
The piercing crown upon His head;
And then, upon th' accursed tree,
List thou His heaven-breathed melody—
Go, (Ink of Him who aufTer'd there,
T' impart the spirit of that prover
For strength to follow, as He led
The Head example here out•sptead
Behold Hie all of vengeance shown,
When Calv'ry heard hie dying groan!
Then view I-lie love for sinned; there,
In that expreegive, fervent prayer—
ner might ie gentlenese—she winneth sway
By a soft word and a softer look
Where she, the gentle loving one, bath failed,
The proud or stern might never yet succeed.
Strength, power, and majesty belong to man I
They make the glory native to his life ;
But sweetness is a woman's attribute—
By that she has reigned, and by that will reign.
There hove been some who Vrith a mightier mind,
Have won dominion, but they never won
The dearer empire of the beautiful ;
Sweetest eovreigns of their natural loveliness.
rrom the N. Y. Sunday Mercury.
At the particular request of the editor
of the Rathway Herald, 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 seen:-
ing trifles in this world which you are
too apt to overlook on account of their
unimportance, the neglect of which has
plunged thousands into the deepest mire
of misery, and sunk their characters
into inextricable degradation. • Among
these trifles, that of neglecting to pay
one's honest debts is the,most common,
and attended with the worst of conse
quences. It takes off all the silken furze
of the fine thread of feeling—creates a
sort of misanthropic coldness about the
heart—skims of all the cream that may
chance to rise on the milk of generosity,
and makes man look as savagely upon
his brother man as a dog does upon one
of his own species, while engaged in the
gratifying employment of eating his
master's dinner. One debt begets an
' other. I have always observed that he
who owes a man a dollar is sure to owe
him 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
deeply in debt that you can't sleep of
nights, without being haunted by the
6 :•nst of some impatient creditor, is
enougi. to give a man the hydrophobia
ll i tint bite a wheel-barrow—cause
it to r :Ad, and create.a general con
sternattoi, among the lamp posts.
My deal , friends—The debt that sits
heosist on the conscience of a mortal
• —provided he has one—is the debt due
the printer. It presses upon one's bo.
som more than the nightmare—galls,
soul-frets, and chafes every ennobling
sentiment, squeezes all juice of fraternal
sympathy from the heart, and leave it
drier than the surface of a roast potatoe.
A man who wrongs the printer can never
expect to enjoy comfort in this world,
and may well have doubts of finding hap
piness in any other. He will be sure
to go down to the grave ere Time shall
have bedecked his brow.with the silvery
blossoms of age, and the green leaves of
hope will fall before the bud of enjoy
ment has expanded. It is true, the
mushrooms of peace may spring up
during the short night of forgetfulness,
but they will all wither beneath the
scorching of remorse. How can you,
my friends, ever have the wickedness to
cheat the printer when he labors all day
in doing good for you 1 He has poured
into the treasures of your mind some of
the most valuable gifts that anything
short of God can bestow—aye, riches
with which you would not part for the
possession of the whole world, and a
mortgage on a small corner of Heaven.
With the keys of magic, as it were; he
has opened the iron-cased doors of hu
man understanding—dispelled the dark
est of ignorance, and lit up the lamps of
knowledge and wisdom. The mighty
engine—the press, 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 lever of this soul en
lightening instrument—is often robbed
of his hard earned btead by those whom
be has delivered from mental bondage,
and placed in a paradise, to lay off and
grow fat on the fruits of his labors !
Oh, you ungrateful sinners! if you
have hearts softened 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 con
gregation whose account is not settled
with the printer, go and adjust it imme
diately, and be able to hold your head
up in society, like the giant ; be respect
ed by the wise and the good—free from
the tortures of a guilty consciene—the
mortification of repeated duns—and es•
cape from falling into the clutches of
those licensed thieves, the lawyers. If
you are honest and honorable men, you
will go forthwith and pay the printer.
You will not wait for the morrow,_ be
cause there is no to-morrow—it is but a
visionary receptacle for unredeemed pro
mises; an addled egg in the great nest
of the future; the debtor's hope and the
creditor's nurse. If you are dishonest,
low-minded sons of Satan, I don't sup
pose you will ever pay the printer, as
you have no reputation to lose—no cha
racter to sustain—and no morals to cul
tivate. But let me . tell you, my friends,
that if you don't do it, your paths to the
tomb will be strewn with thorns—you
will have to gather your daily food from
the brambles—your children will die
with the dysentary, and you yourselves
will never enjoy the blessings of health.
I once called on a sick person whom the
doctors had given up as a gone case. I
asked him if he had made his peace with
his Maker 1 He said ho thought lie had
all squared, I. inquired if he had for
given all his enemies 1 He replied, yes.
I then asked him if he had made his
peace with his printer 1 He 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 farewell to
the world. His desire was immediately
gratified, and from that moment lie be.
-came convalescent. Ho is now living in
the enjoyment of peace with his own
conscience, his God, and the world. Let
this be an example for you, my friends,
Patronize 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 happi
ness! •
GOOD ADVICE.—Do not talk about
your neighbors, we beg of you do not.
It is unkind. We are so situated in
this life that we are often dependent
upon them for offices of kindness that
money will not buy. How a harsh, or
a light word will grate on the memory
of a neighbor forever, and how he might
refuse us his aid if he remembered it
.against us. It is then our interest to
speak well of our neighbors. Again, it
is unprincipled to speak ill of them.—
It is impolite and sinful, and with all
these arguments against the practice, it
is much to be wondered at that the ninth
commandment is not regarded with
more respect. A flattering word about
a person whom we do not know has
often commended us to his favor, while
a slighting remark, unintentional per
haps, has made him our enemy forever.
ay- Dr. Franklin used to• say that rich
widows were tho only piece of second ,
handed goods that sold at prime coat,
[From the Lancaster County Farmer.]
Apple Butter boiling is now in season
and no doubt, owing to the abundance
of fruit of all kinds this year, a large
quantity of the article will be made.—
Pumpkins, Peaches, Pears, and Quinces,
are equally as good material for this
kind of sauce, and of late years have
been quite extensively used ; especially
in seasons when the apple crop fell
short, as has frequently been' the case.
As Apple Batter is peculiarly a Penn
sylvania dish, it may not be amiss to
explain the modus operandi of its man
ufactuie for the edification of our read
ers in neighboring States ; and, should
any of them wish to make the artice,
merely to." try it," they will commence
In the morning, pare two and a half
bushels of fine large apples, cut them
in six pieces, extracting the core and
seeds. At ten o'clock take one barrel
of cider in a large copper or iron ket
tle, place it over a good fire, and let it
boil till three o'clock ; then throw in
the apples and stir occasionally nntil 5
or 6 o'clock, from which titne, until 9,
10, or 11 o'clock, just as circumstances
may require, stir constantly:,
At such " boilings," it is usual for
the neighbors—especially the young
men and women--to assemble, as well
to keep up the conviviality of the party,
as to take a turn at the " stirrer." In
deed, in this county, an Apple Butter
Boiling is the most pleasant and truly
democratic party imaginable. You at
tend—lady or gentleman—in your plain
every-day clothes, are invited into the
spacious kitchen, where, seated upon
long benches running parallel with the
wall, you will find some ten or twenty
of both sexes. lii the most obscure
corner of the room, is seated the host,
who, while he gazes on the happy scene
before him, and gladly recounts the
days when he too was young, is leisure
ly smoking his pipe ; or, perhaps, with
one or more of his neighbors, with
whom he has thus far travelled down the
steep declivity of time, discussing the
prices of grain, the leading political
questions of the day, or the probable
future destiny of our great and growing
country. The youngest child, in every
instance the "old man's pet," is seated
upon his knee; and, unlike children gen
erally, is perfectly quiet and attentive
to what is going on. And there, upon
the hearth, beside the cheerful fire, the
faithful mastiff takes his usual rest ere
he assumes his post before his master's
About nine o'clock, the " old lady,"
or rather the hostess, appears with a
basket of choice fruit—apples, peaches,
pears, &c.—also, cider, of which the
party now partake. The elderly gen
tlemen in the corner, however, care
naught about the cider : a bottle of
" apple jack" or good old " peach" is
brought out, a glass tipped off, the pipe
relighted, and the conversation renewed.
The Apple Butter's done! The gen
tlemen lift off the kettle, the ladies ex
amine the butter, pronounce it "good,"
and all hands adjourn to the parlor,
where they for a short time indulge in
some favorite amusement, and then re
The merry, ringing laugh of the corn-
puny, as they stroll in couples to their
respective homes, plainly tells you they
are happy, and that they were pleased
with the Apple Butter Boiling,
4ppropos.—Here is a song, good fts
well as seasonable. We propose that it
be sung to any old4ashioned tune, at
Apple Butter Boilings exclusively
When autumn freely yields,
All her golden treasures
Then those who reap the fields,
Partake of harvest pleasures,
This, lads, is harvest home;
Those who labor daily,
Well know 'tis sweet to come t
And pass the evening gaily.
Then let each heart be light ;
Here's no room for sorrow,
Joy holds her court to-night,
Care may come to-morrow.
Now let the lab'rer wipe his brow,
Rest and plenty wait him;
Barn, cellar, rick, and mow,
Are filled to recreate him.
Scythe, sickle, rake, and hoe,
All are now suspended,
Like trophies in a row,
For future use intended.
Then let each heart be light, &c.
Now gay Pomona's store,
Past exertion blesses,
Rich streams of nectar pour,
Sparkling from her presses.
Full goblets streaming broad,
Crown the Farmer's labors,
These real bliss afford,
When shared by friendly neighbors,
Then let each heart be light, &c,
• From the Lancaster Examiner and HeraW.
North Carolina to Pennsylvania—Greeting
THE Tazarr '4ll.
A voice goes forth athwart the sky i
A voice for woe or weal ;
And echoe hurries on the cry—,
From a betrayed, indignant horde,
The storm foretell's its fate,
As far off voices catch the word
From out the Keystone State.
Still borne upon a breeze, that word
la. echoing to and fro ;
And as I sing, that voice is heard,
Proclaim it, as when thunders break,
And lightnings fierce rejoice ;
When a united people speak,
In'one unbroken voice.
A voice ye hear (from men made free),
When enemies invade—
To crush our own prosperity—
And build up foreign trade.
Biala!, I Rr•,rsnr ! we catch the sound,
"':b words thy banner bore,
Arid Carolina's voice resounds,
By Pennsylvania's shore.
Send on thy strength: the might of mind,
!ghat on the Senate's floor,
Thily may disperse it to the wind,
And cry—"it is no more!"
With hearts elate—and spirits warmed,
. A choice and vig'rous band;
With resolution, firmly formed,
Throughout our happy land! B.
From a work entitled "SCENES Is ALL
TEL/IMS," we extract a passage interest
ing to wine-drinkers :
The author, meeting a stranger in a
country churchyard, recognizes Bur
ley, the late landlord of an Inn he used
to frequent near Cambridge, but now, it
appears, retired to enjoy the fruits of
his industry. Falling into a confiden
tial discourse about the way in which
this worthy conducted his business, the
author receives from him a most lumin
ous and satisfactory account of his
"You can't deny it, Burley; your
wines of all kinds were detestable—
Port, Madeira, Claret, Champaigne—"
" There now, sir ! to prove how gen
tlemen may be mistaken, I assure you,
sir, as I'm an honest man, I never had
but two sorts of wine iti my cellar—
port and sherry."
"How?when I myself have tried
your claret, your—"
" Yes, sir ; my claret, sir. One is
obliged to give gentlemen every thing
- they ask for, sir; gentlemen who pay
-their money, sir, have a right to be seri , -
ed with whatever they may be pleased
to order, sir. I'll tell you how it was,
sir; I never would have any wines in
my house, sir, but port and sherry, be ,
cause I knew them to be wholesome
wines, sir ; and this I will say, sir, my
port and sherry were the—very—best—
I could procure in all England—"
• " How ! the best'!"
4 , Yes, sir—at the price I paid for
them, • But to explain the thing at once,
sir." You must know, sir, that I hadn't
been long in business, when I discover
ed that g entlemen knew very little about
wine; but that if they didn't find some
fault or other, they would appear to
know much less—always excepting the
'young gentlemen from Cambridge, sir ;
and they are excellent judges ! (and here
again Burtley's little eyes twinkled a
humorous commentary on the concluding
words of his sentence.) Wall, sir, with
respect to my dinner wines, I was al
ways tolerably safe, gentlemen seldom
.find fault at dinner ; so whether it might
happen to be Madeira, or pale sherry, or
brown or—"
"Why, just now you told me that you
had but two sorts of wine in your cel
Very true, sir ; port and sherry.
But this was my plan, sir. If any one
ordered Madeira—From one bottle of
sherry take two glasses of wine, Which
replace by two glasses of brandy, and
add thereto a slight squeeze of lemon;
and this I found to give general satis
faction—especially the young gentlemen
from Cambridge, sir. But, upon the
word of an honest mon, 1 could scarce
ly get a living profit by my Madeira, sir,
for I always used the best brandy. As
to the pale and brown sherry, sir—a
couple of glasses of pure water, in place
of the seine quantity of wine, made
what I used to call my delicate pale,
(bye the bye, a squeeze of lemon added
to that, made a very fair Bucellas, sir—
e wine not much railed fur now, sir ;)
and for my old brown sherry a leetle
burnt sugar was the thing. It looked
very much like sherry that been twice
to the East Indies, sir ; and, indeed, to
my customers who were very particular
about their wines, I used to serve it as
"But, Mr. Burley, wasn't such a pro.
cedding of a character rather- "
"I guess what you would say, sir;
but f ktiew it would be a wholesome
wine at bottom, sir. But my port was
the wine that gate tne so much troble.
Gentlemen seldoni agree about port, sir.
One gentleman would .say ; 'Burley, I
don't like this wine—it is too heavy !'
Is it, sir 1 I think I can find you a ligh t-
er.' Out went a glass of wine, nod in
went a glass of water. 'Well, sir,' I'd
say, how do you approve of that.' 'Why
—um—no—i can't say .' I un
derstand, sir, you like an older wine—
softer—l think I can please you, sir.'
Pump again, sir. Now, sir,' says I,
(wiping the decanter with a napkin, and
triumphantly holding it up to the light,)
'try this, if you please.' 'That's the
very wine; bring another bottle of the
But one can't please everybody the
same way ) sir. Some gentlemen would
complain of my port as being poor—
without body. In went one glass of
brandy. If that didn't answer, 'Aye,
gentlemen,' says I, 'I know what'll please
you—you like fuller bodied, rougher
wine. Out went two glasses of wine,
and in went two or three glasses of
brandy. This used to be a very favor
ite wine—but only with the young gen
tlemen from Cambridge, sir.''
" And your claret 1
"My good, wholesome port, again,
sir. Three wine out, three water in,
one pinch of tartaric acid, two do. orris
powder. For a fuller claret, a little
brandy; for a lighter claret, more water."
"But how did you contrive about Bur
That was my claret, sir, with from
three to six drops of bergamot, accord
ing as gentlemen liked a full flavor or a
delicate flavor. As for champaigne, sir,
that, of course, I made myself."
"How do you mean 'of course,' Bur
ley 1"
• "0, sir," said he with an innocent
and waggish look, "surely everybody
makes his own champaigne--else what
can become of all the gooseberries l'
Industry anti Integrity.
. .
There is nothing possible to man
which industry and integrity will not
accomplish. The poor boy of yesterday
—so poor that. a dollar was a miracle in
his vision, houseless, shoeless and bread
less—compelled to wander on foot from
village to village, with his bundle on his
back, in order to procure labor and the
means of subsistence, has become the
talented and honorable young man of to=
day, by the power of his good right arm
and the potent influence of his pure prin
ciples, firmly held and perpetually main
tained. When poverty, and what the
world calls disgrace, stared him in the
face, he shuddered not ; but pressed on
ward and exulted most in high and hon
orable exertions in the midst of accumu
lating disasters and calamities, Let this
young man be cherished, for he honors
his country and dignifies his race, High
blood—if this courses not in his Veins—
he is a free born prince. Wealth—what
cares he for that, so long as his heart is
pure, and his wtiik upright—he kfloSirs,
and his country knows, and his country
tells, that the little finger of an honest
and upright young man is worth more
than the whole body of an effeminate
and dishonest rich man. These are the
men who Make the country—who bring
to it whatever of iron sinew and unfail
ing spirit it possesses or desires--who
are rapidly rendering it the mightiest,
most powerful, as it is already the freest
land beneath the circle of the sun,
The Gout.
A cotetnporary protrounces the follow
ing cure for the gout, to be a sure reme
Ist. Pick a handkerchief from the pock
et of a maid of 50 years, who never had
a wish to change her condition.
2d. Wash it in an holiest miller's
3d. Dry it on a parson's hedge that
was never doietotts.
4th. Send it to a doctor's shop that
never killed a patient.
sth. Mark it with a lawyer's ink vtliti
never cheated a client, and then apply it
to the part effected, and cure will speed.:
By follow.
HORAIBLE.—"WeII, I SWan test , man,
thar's a darned muss over tee , ' our
" Why, what's the matter, Sonney 1"
" 014 dad's got a new hat, Molt's got
the snub-nosed hooking cough, and Hen's
a shaking tew smash With the square
toed measles."
." Yew don't !"
"Yes, and that ain't all nuther."
" Oh, dear, what else l"
" Old puss has got a. whole snag of
pups; and mother's not-apple damp.
lies and tnolasses for dinner.
WHOLE NO. 658,
The Power of Intemperance.
PdTnaeAc the Washington correspon-:
dent of the Baltimore .Pattiot, thuti
speaks of the late Felix G. M'Connell:
"Now that General M'Connell is dead
and gone, people begin to remember that
there were bright Spoti In his character:
I knew him long, long ago in Alabama,
and while he was in Congress; and when
some of the newspapers and letter wri•
tees were handling him roughly, he
would often come to me, on account of
our old acquaintanceship, perhaps, and
with tears in his eyes ; beg of me to
tercede in' his behalf, and try to get the
' editors and letter writers aforesaid to
let hint alone. He Would say that he
asked it, not for his own sake, but fi'r
the sake of his excellent wife and chil
dren. On these occasions I more than
once told him that he knew as well as he
could be told, how he could put a stop to
the abuse he complained of. .He would
reply--"I know it, I know it; you would
have me stop drinking and frolicking;
and shut up this 'walking grocery !' But
I can't do it, I have tried many times;
but it is impossible. I can't stop, but
must go on," I once asked him what
he expected his end would be 1 He re•
plied seriously-for he was sober—that
he knew not, His wife, he said; was a
good Christian, and would go to HetiVen.
He hoped his children would; but as for
himself, he could only say, that at one
period of his life, he was for thirteen
months a sincere exhorter in the church;
and if the God above did Ma look back
to that period of his life with a faVora- .
ble eye, and sere him, why then he
would be lost, for lie could do nothing
now toward saving himself—it was toe
late! Poor Mac—peace to his ashes!"
Eating by the Card,
A geialeman from Orange county,
terniined to spend a few weeks in New
.York, for the purpose of seeing all the
sights ; and in order to strike his ac
quaintances at home with a proper idea
of the greatness of his Sisk; he took up
lodgings at the Astor House;
When he was ushered Imo dinner;
the first day, he was surprised at the
number of people who sat doWn, as well
as the vastness of the dinitig room.—
He Avits equally surprited to see, that
each man had a printed account of his
dinner before him, and that each one, as
he thought, ate according to the direr ,
tions. He was quite hungry—and well
he might be, after waiting three hours
oter his usual tithe—so he attacked the
head of his bill with vigor and ate doWn
as far as he could, but he soon came to
a stand. Just then the gentleman on
his right requested the waiter to bring
hint softie oyster pie; which our friend
heard, and instantly referred to the list
to see where it was; .
" What !" exclaimed he *hit astow
ishinent, turning to his neighb&—" are
you all the way down there! Why, I
have only got to roast beef, and I feel al
ready as if I would burst !"
A Serio Comic° Accident.
On Tuesday week, a strapping color
ed man had mounted himself on the tat . -
ford of a Vessel lying at Bowly's Wharf,
and was stretched at full length, taking
a sadoze to himself, with the router below
hiin on one side, and the deck of the
vessel on the other. He laid been lying
in this unsafe condition for some time,
when he became a little restless, and in
shifting his position, rolled overboard
into the dock. Several gentlemen on
the wharf having observed him • fall,
immediately ran on board the vessel, one
of them carrying with hint a long pole,
but litit the slightest trace of a than
Could be discovered. The pole was then
used for.the purpose of feeling for the
body, and it finally struck on a substance
supposed to be that of the unfortunate
negro. On attempting to draw the pole
up something heavy seemed attached to
the. lower end, but with a little assist
ance it was raised, and the supposed
drowned man found to bd clinging on
to it With both hands, but little Worse
for his ducking. On being asked how
it happened that he laid so quietly on
the bottom, he replied with the utmost
innocence, " why bless de Lord, mass,
I was sound asleep until you stuck that
long pole into me, which woke me up
and almost knocked the bref out of mo
body." This may seem like fiction,
but it is a serious fact, and the negro
still persists in averring that he was
sound asleep until the punching woke
hint up.—Baltimore Sun.
“Sambo,” said a Southern gentleman
to his black servant, "I *Olt you to
clear up the things in the garret to-day,
and scrub it out."
"Can't do it, ntassa, no how at all,"
said SanibO,"
"Can't do It!" said _the gentleman
"why can't you do it
Uaze, massa, l'se alirrs been 'posed
to high clueic•s."