Newspaper Page Text
nit JAMES CLARK
VOL, XIIT, O. 24.
fur the cure of
Fernr and ague, Chill Fever, Dumb
ague, Intermittent & Remittent Fevers,
, Liver Complaint, Jau dice, Enlarge
ment of the Liver, Enlargement of
the Spleen, and all the various
forms of Bilious Diseases.
This invaluable medicine was prepared from an
extensive practice of several yearn in a bilious cli
mate, end is Naval' Known TO FAIL of curing
Fever and Ague, or any of the diseases above
Those who are suffering from affections of this
kind, ar also those who have become invalids froth
their effects upon the constitution, will find the
toms ettoLationne a most invaluable remedy
for purifying the blood, and thoroughly cleansing
from the system the morbid effects of a bilious eli
The wonderful operation of the Uholagogue in
bradiesting Dna from the human system, can only
explain it. extraordinary agency in the speedy,
thorough and permanent CUM of fever and ague,
end the eerious grade. of intermittent and remit•
It is equally effectual for the cure of Liver com.
plaint, Jaundice, Enlargement of the Liver : also
Enlargement of the Spleen. celled Ague Cake, end
the various forms of bilious Indigestion. These,
with the other varied affections of such climates,
arising from a common miasmal cause, are only
Modification. of the same diocese, end equally
controlled by the same remedy.
Certificates without number could he given of
the efficacy of this medicine in curing the above
tauetiueed diseases, but are not de: !fled necessary,
as a simple trial of it by the afflicted will fully at
test its virtu....
Price $1 50 per bottle.
A ecirrp.--THOS READ & SON, Hunting.
thin; Ct. ii.Striner,Waterstrret; M h Swoop',
Alexandria; J. Milliken & co., Mill Creck.
May 2, 1848.11.
RICH AND RACY !
FISHER, McMURTRIE & CO., avail
themselves of this means of making
known to their old friends and customers that they
have greatly enlarged their room, and are now
opening at the old and well known corner, a very
large and splendid assortment of
Spring and Simmer Goods,
which will be eoltl
20 Per Cenl. Cheaper
than was ever before known in this latitude.
Their stock is heavy and has been selected with
great care, so that the wants of the WHOLE
PEOPLE may be suplied. In addition to their
former variety they have added a fine assortment
cat HATS, CAPS, and
which now renders their cstabliehrnent a
Gra lid Bazar
where everything useful and ornamental may be
fouinl.diul at prices which DEFY all competition!
VOr example: They are selling et lei.did
Dross Lawns for 123 cents. per yard,
Calicoes, from 3to 6 do. do.,
Bleached Muslin at 4 do. do,,
Good Brown Sugar at 61 cents per lb.;
best Rio Coffee at 10 cents per lb.; Mo.
lasses, 25 cents per gallon. And to cap
the climax, they arc able and willing to
sell a FULL SUIT of Ready-made Cloth- •
g for the small sum of •3.50.
For further particulars, please call at
the 'OLD LOCUST COI L EE,' where
the important fact will be proven that
Fisher, Alalurtrie Sr. Co. have thelargest,
the BEST and the C HE4P EST stuck of
Goodb ever offered for sale in Hunting
don! [April 6,184 S.
LETTER: 4 of adininitAratiuti on the ettaie or
Alex. Gwiti, Esq., late of the borough of
Huntingdon, ilec'tl-, having been wanted to the
undersigned, he hereby gives notice to all ',croone
indebted to caid deed to come forward and make
payment, and to all persons holing demand.
against the came to preterit them properly authen
ticated, without delay.
WSI. P. ORIIMON,
- - -
NOTICE is hereby given that letters of admin
istration have been granted to the undersigned.on
the estate of James Linn, late of Springfield town
ship, deceased. Persons knowing themselves in
debted will come forward and make payment, and
all those having claims will present them duly au
thenticated for settlement.
CASPER LINN, and
NOTICE I. hereby given that letters of admin
istration have been granted to the tinderaigned on
the agate of Benjamin throng, late of Union tp.
All persona indebted will please come ferword and
make payment immediately. and those having
Claims will present them duly authenticated fur
SLIZA STRONG, Adminittratriz
Estate of Robert Ramsey, late of Spring
field township, Huntingdon county, dec'd.
lETTERS of administration having
jhaving been granted to undersigned
on the said estate, all persons having
claims against the same are requested to
present them for settlement, and those
indebted are requested to make immedi•
ate payment to
ROBERT RAMSEY, Adm'r
May 16, 184 R.
(From Scott'. Weekly Paper.)
Ye little ones who rosin the fields,.
But to seek pleasure in each grove,
Each flower which so sweetly gilds
The scene, points thee to Jesus' lute,
Ye youth, whose mind.. expand, to ace
The plan•ta in their orbits moue,
Count each star...loW each meteor flee , —
Reflect ! this is all Jesus' lore.
Ye who in manhood's prime, with ekill
Seek gold and honor, each mny prove,
Tho' thou thy coffers could not Al!,
The skill to act, was Jenne lone.
Ye poor and needy, who scarce live
Upon the labor ye approve,
Oft ask, why God to others give !
Deny to thee I 'Tim Jesus' love,
Ye aged onee, whose end is soon,
Who seek to know thy God above,
In darkness grope, till' mid the gloom,
Ye hear them tell of Jesus' lone,
Foot,Prints of Angels.
BY HENRY W. LONGFELLOW
IT was Sunday morning; and the church
bells were ringing together. From all
the neighboring villages came the sol
emn, joyful sounds, floating through the
sunny air, mellow and faint and low,—
all mingling into one harmonious chime,
like the sound of some distant organ in
heaven. Anon they ceased ; and the
woods, and the clouds, and the whole
village, and the very air itself seemed
to pray, so silent was it everywhere.
The venerable old man,—high priest
and patriarch in the land,--went up the
pulpit stairs, as Moses and Aaron went
up Mount loe, in the sight of all the
congregation,—for the pulpit stairs were
in front and very high.
Paul Flemming will never forget the
sermon he heard that day,—no, not even
if he should live to be as old as he who
preached it. The text was, "I know
that my Redeemer liveth." It was
meant to console the pious, poor widow,
who sat right before him at the foot of
the pulpit stairs, all in black, and her
heart breaking. He said nothing of the
terrors of death, nor of the gloom of
the narrow house, but looking beyond
these things, as mere circumstances to
which the imagination mainly gives im
portance, he told his hearers of the in
, nocence of childhood upon earth, and
the holiness of childhood in heaven, and
how the beautiful Lord Jesus was once
a little child, and now in heaven the
spirits of little children walked with
him, and gathered flowers in the fields
•of Paradise. Good old man ! In the
behalf of humanity, I thank thee for
these benignant words! And, still more
than 1, the bereaved mother thanked
thee ; and from that hour, though she
wept in secret for her child, yet
Site knew ho was with Jeswi,
And she asked him not again."
After the sermon, Paul Flemming'
walked forth alone into the church-yard. '
There was no one there, save the little
boy, who was fishing with a pin-hook in
a grave half full of water, But a few
moments afterward, through the arched .
gateway under the belfry came a funer
al procession. At its head tvalked a
priest in white surplice, chanting.—E
Peasants, old and young, followed hint,
with burning tapers in their hands. A
young girl carried in her arms a dead
child, wrapped in its little winding
sheet. The grave was close under the
wall, by the church door. A vase of .
holy water stood beside it. The sexton
took the child from the girl's arm, and
put it into a coffin ; and, as he placed it
in the grave,
the girl held a cross over
it, wreathed with roses, and the priest
and peasants sang at funeral hymn.—
When this was over, the priest sprinkled
the grave with holy water ; and then
they all went into the church, each one
stopping as he passed the grave to throw
a handful of earth into it, and sprinkled
it with holy water.
A few moments afterwards, the voice
of the priest was heard saying mass in
the church, and Flemming saw the
toothless old sexton treading the fresh
earth into the grave of the little child
with his clouted shoce. He approached
him, and asked the age of the deceased.
The sexton leaned a moment on his
spade, and shrugging his shoulders re
"Only an hour or two. ft was born
in the night, and died early this morn
"A brief existence," said Flemming.
"The child seems to have been born
only to be buried and have its name re
corded on a wooden tomb-stone."
The sexton went on with his work
and made no reply. Flemming still lin•
(COROXf ititNCIPLES--OPPOATEn BY TRUTH.J
HUNTINGDON, PA., TUESDAY, JUNE 13, 1848.
gered among the graves, gazing with
wonder at the strange devices by which
man has rendered death• horrible and
the grave loathsome.
In the temple of Juno nt Elis, Sleep
and his twin-brother Death were repre
sented as children reposing in the arms
of Night. On various funeral monu
ments of the ancients, the Genius of
Death is sculptured as a beautiful youth
leaning•on an inverted torch, ►n the at
titude of repose, his wings folded and
his feet crossed. In such peaceful and
attractive forms, did the imagination of
the ancient poems represent death. And
these were men in whose souls the reli
gion of Nature was like the light of
stars, beautiful, but faint and cold!—
Strange, that in later days, this angel of
God, which leads us with a gentle hand
into the " Land of the great departed
into the silent Land," should bave been
transformed into a monstrous and ter
rific thing! Such is the spectral rider
on the white horse—such the ghastly
skeleton with scythe and hour-glass—
the Reaper, whose naine is Death !
One of the most popular themes of
poetry and painting in the Middle ages,
and continuing down even in modern
times, was the Dance of Death. In al
most all languages is it written,—the
apparition of the grim spectre, putting
a sudden stop to all business, and lead
, ing men away into the " remarkable re
tirement" of the grave. It is written
in an ancient Spanish poem, and painted
on a wooden bridge in Switzerland.
The designs of Holbein are well
known. The most striking among them
is that, where, from a group , of children
sitting round a cottage hearth, Death
has taken one by the hand, and is lead
ing it out of the door. Quietly and unre
sistingly goes the child, and in its coon•
tenance no grief, but wonder only ;
while the other children are weeping
and stretching forth their hands in vain
towards their departing brother. A
beautiful design it is, in all to save the
skeleton. Angel had been better, with
folded wings, and torch inverted.
And now the sun was growing high
and warm. A little chapel, whose door
stood open, seemed to invite Flemming
to enter and enjoy the grateful coolness.
He went in. There was no one there.
The walls were covered with paintings
and sculpture of the rudest kind, and
with a few funeral tablets. There was
nothing there to move the heart to devo
tion, but in that hour the heart of Flem
ming was weak,—weak as a child's.—
He bowed his stubborn knees, nud wept.
And oh ! how many disappointed hopes,
, how many bitter recollections, how
much of wounded pride, and unrequited
love, were in those tears, through which
' he read on a marble tablet in the chapel
wall opposite, this singular inscription:
" Look not mournfully into the Past.
It conies not back again. Wisely im
prove the Present. It is thine. Go
forth to meet the shadowy future with
' out fear, and with a manly heart."
It seemed to him, as if the unknown
tenant of that grave had opened his lips
of dust, and spoken to him the words of
consolation, which his soul needed, and
which no friend had yet spoken. In a
moment the anguish of his thoughts
was still. The stone was rolled away
from the door of his heart ; death was
no longer there, but an angel clothed in
. white. He stood up, and his eyes were
no more bleared with tears ; and looking '
into the bright morning heaven, he said :
" I will be strong !'
Men sometimes go down into tombs
with painful longings to behold once
more the faces of their departed friends ;
l and as they gaze upon them lying there
so peacefully with the semblance that
. they wore on earth, the sweet breath of
heaven touches them and they crumble
and fall together, and are but dust. So
did his soul then descend for the last
time into the great tomb of the Past,
with painful longings to behold once
more the dear faces of those he had le.
ved ; and the sweet breath of heaven
touched them, but crumbled away and
perished ns he gazed. They, too, were
dust. And thus , far-sounding, he heard
the great gate of the Past shut behind
hint as the Divine Poet did the gate of
Paradise, when the angel pointed him
the way up the Holy Mountain ; and to
him likewise was it forbidden to look
In the life of every man, there are
sudden transitions of feeling, which
seem almost miraculous. At once, as
if some magician had touched the heav
ens and the earth, the dark clouds melt
into the air, the wind falls, and serenity
succeeds the storm. The causes which
produce these sudden changes may have
been long at work within us, but the
changes themselves are instantaneous,
and apparently without sufficient cause.
It was so with Flemming ; and from that
hour forth he resolved, that he would no
longer veer with every shifting wind of
circumstance ; no longer be a child's
plaything in the hands of Fate ; which
we ourselves do make or tear. He re•
solved henceforward not to lean On °tit ,
ers ; but to walk confident and self-pos
sessed ; no longer to waste his years in
vain regrets, nor wait the fulfilment of
boundless hopes and indiscreet desires;
but to live in the Present wisely, alike
forgetful of the Past, and careless of
what the mysterious Future tnight
bring. And from that moment he was
calm and strong '• he was reconciled
Hiswith himself ! thoughts turned to
his distant home beyond the sea. An
indescribable feeling arose within him.
'Thither I will turn my wandering
footsteps," and being a man among men,
and no longer a dreamer among shadows.
Henceforth be mine a life of action and
reality ! I will work in my own sphere
nor wish it other than it is. This alone
is health and happiness. This alone is
Life that shaq send
A chalange to its end,
And when it conies, say, Wc!coine„ friend!'
" Why have I not made these sage re
flections sooner '? Can such a simple re
sult spring only from the long and in
tricate process of experience '1 Alas!
it is not till time 'with reckless hand,
has torn out half the leaves from the
book of Human life, to light the fires of
passion with from day to dny, that Man
begins to see that the leaves which re
main are few in number, and to remem
ber, faintly at first, and then more clear
ly, that upon the earlier pages of that
book was written a story of happy inno
coney ; which he would fain read over
again. Then come listless irresolution,
and the inevitable action of despair; or
else the firm resolve to record upon the
leaves that still remain a more noble
history than the child's story w•itlt which
the book began."—Hyperion.
An Editor not a Gentleman
Marcracon, of the Dayton Transcript,
tells the following good one as a part of
his experience, He says i
We have traveled some fifteen hun
dred miles within the last few days, by
land and by water. The tavern keepers,
steamboat captains, 3,7,c., have uniform
ly chalked our hats, and indignantly re
fused to permit us to pay our way. In
short, upon the raging canawl, upon the
expansive lake, in the packets, hotels,
and floating palaces of Lake Erie,
have had a great " free blow" and have
uniformly been regarded among the
" dead heads." This you will regard
as very pleasant, and certainly very
agreeable and advantageous way of trav
elling. But there was one " free blow"
which came near knocking us into the
middle of next week. The incident is
so comical that we will re'ate it if the joke
is at our expense.
While on' board one of the splendid
steamers which ply between Bufihlo
and Chicago, the fuz on our chin grew
rather longer than was agreeable, and
we repaired to the barbar shop on board
to have it taken off. The fellow did it
up in a first rate style. After he had
combed and oiled our head, brushed our
clothes, and slicked us up fine, we felt
gratified, pulled out a dime and proffer
ed it to him as a reward for his services.
He drew himself up with considerable
"I understand," said he, " dat you is
an Editor !
" Well ! what of it 1" said we.
6 , We neber charged editors nofin,"
But, my wooly friend, said we, there
arc a good many editors traveling now
a-days, and such liberality on your part
will prove a ruinous business.
"Oh arbor mind," said ho, "we
make it all off de Getnman."
We continently sloped.
A Hint to Girls.
We have always considered it an un- I
erring sign of innate vulgarity, when we
hear ladies take particular pains to im
press us with an idea of their ignorance
of all domestic matters, save sewing or
weavine a net to incase their delicate
hands. Ladies by some curious kind of
hocas pocus have got it into their heads
that the best way to catch a husband is
to show how profoundly capable they
are of doing nothing for his comfort.
Frightning a piano into fits, or murder
, ing the king's French, may be a good
bait for certain kinds of fish, but they
must be of that kind usually found in
very shallow waters. 'rho surest way
to secure a good husband is to cultivate
those accomplishments which make a
An American quaker said to a gunner
during the revolutionary war—" Friend,
I counsel no bloodshed but if it be thy
design to hit the little man in the blue
jacket, point thine engine three inches
God made man to possess knowledge
and wisdom—and his mind it adapted
to instruction. And Well hath one re
marked, that "in education, there is a
Divine Alchymyi Which turns all the ba
ser parts of man's nature int=-Jjeld."
Not alone from books are men educa
ted. Man is -a being of imitative pow
ers. He learns from example—copying
from the views and acts of others. And
the character of man is often determined
by this means—hence we may say a
man's knowledge is not Certainly known
until we ascertain the relations he hds
sustained—the advantages enjoyed—
and the influences exerted upon him:
His wisdom will be ascertained from see
ing him in Wive life. The time he may
have devoted to the study of books will
not determine how much he knows, or
what arc his qualifications for usefulness
—for one man with less study w , !I ac
quire more than another with more study.
Who should be educated 1 All the
people—because all have minds. The
Creator designed it. The capacities of
the mind are evidence of this. Mind is
the great treasury of our being.—Cor
rect knowledge stores it with valuable
coin, with true wealth. Its deposites
are always safe, and its issues are ta
ken at par in the relations of life. But
let the mind of man be dark with igno
ranee, and he will soon ruin the credtt
of humanity. An ignorant inteledtual
being is scarcely a counterfeit man.
Let the people be educated—there is
no intellectual soil to be spared in the
world—none where it is safe to permit
the noxious weeds of ignorance and vice
to grow. All make pats of the grand
whole—each sustains % relation to the
other—the interests of all are mutual.
Each is, consequently, of too much im
portance in relation to the whole, to re
main without cultivation.
"Look,". says Theophilus Fisk, "at
the boy in the gutter ! hatless, shoeless,
and almost naked! Yet he is a part of
our soYereignty ! Should he not receive
a sovereign's education I Should he not
be prepared for the throne our institu
tions give him ? There is a gem in ev
ery human mind—let the diamond be
. . . . . .
• Mind is the nation's wealth, too. Ed.
'mating it is putting our wealth to good
usury. The State had better pay for
educating the people than to.build pris
ons. Nineteen twentieths of the paupers
and criminals in our country, were they
to go back to childhood, for the causes
of their present condition, would say,
,‘ we received our first lessons in crime,
while lying in idleness—out of school,
in company with idle and vicious com
We believe that if the States were to
feed, clothe and educate the poor of our
country, they would in fifteen or twen
ty years, double the money thus capon
pended. That is, ►f, as should be the
case, some employment, forming habits
of industry and love of labor were con
nected with their intellectual pursuits.
Every scholar, would earn enoueh to
pay a large proportion of the expense of
his education, besides being directed in
the way of industry, and rendered ♦alu
able in society.
The genius of our happy government
seems to require this, and the day can
' not be far distant when it will be done.
e are to be great and powerful, as we
are wise and good.
DESCRIPTION OF A BAD ROAD.- . Stran
ger, which is the road to B
"There's two roads," replied the fel
" Well, which is the best ?"
"Aint much difference; both on 'em
very bad. Take which you will, afore
you've got half way you'll wish you'd
tuck t'other." _
"Mamma," said little Ellen, "how
shall I make this frock I—for I really
So it seems, (sew its seems,) my dear,"
replied the punning parent.
Which is the fastest runner, Jas.
K. Polk or Gen. Worth I. A nswer—
Polk ; because Worth could not catch
Santa 4nna and Polk passed him.
A miser having heard a very eloquent
charity sermon, exclaimed—" This ser
mon so strongly proves tho duty of
alms, that I have almost a mind to beg."
MANS FkisNDs•--Man has three friends
in this world—bow do they conduct
themselves in the hour of death, when
God summons him before his tribunal
Money his best friend leaves him first,
and goes not with him. His relations
and friends accompany him to the thres
hold of the grave, and then return to their
homes. The third, which he often to:
got during his life, are his good works.
They alone accompany him to the throne
of the Judge—they go before—speak,
sand obtain mercy and pardon for him.
EDITOR AND PROPRIETOE
WHOLE NO, 646,
Burning of 47 Mimed
The infernal rites at the death (if
Indian Prince are thus described in an
extract of a letter from tancluebar; in
the East Indies, written by a Danish
Migsionary, They dug without the
walls of the city; w•t►cre that Prince ;
who died at the age of eighty, made his
rtisidence; a pit, which they filled *Rh
wood, rangdd and piled up as for a bon
fire. The corpse of the deceased; rich:
ly habited and adorned was brought
forth in great pomp and laid On the pile ;
after which the Bramins (heathen
priests) kindled the fire with en rittun ,
dance of superstitious cerefnciiiies: The
tPives and concubines of the deceased,
*het; eccording to the law or custom of
the country ; ought to die with him, ap
peared there at the same time, mid walk
ed several times round the funeral pile:
They were itt hamber forty-seven, all
finely decked with jewels, and adorned
with flowers. The favored wife or con
cubine carried the poinard of the defunct
prince, which she delivered up to his
successor, and made a short speed ;
exhorting him to use it with moderation,
so as never to let it light on any but the
guilty. Then she boldly turned her
face towards the pile, and, after invo
king her gods, leaped into the midst of
the flames: The second was the sistet
of a prince named Tandaman, who was
present at these horrid fads. She gate
him the jewels she wore ; and the prince,
in receiving theM eMbraced her most
tenderly, and poured out a flood of tears;
but the princess without betraying the
least concern, looked attentively ; with a
steady countenance on the pile attd ott
the spectators, and crying with a loud
voice, 1 . Chita, Chive !" which is the
name of one of their gods, she jumped
as cheerfully into the flames as the first
The others followed her close • some
of them appeared resolute enou gh, but
others looked wild and dejected, There
was one in particular, who being more
dismayed than her companions, ran to
embrace one of the spectators, who was
a Christian, praying him to save her;
but this was not in his power to do, and
the poor wretch was immediately tum
bled headlong into the tire.
However intrepid most of these un•
happy victims appeared before jumping
into the pit, the note was vastly altered
when in the midst of the flames. There
they shrieked hideously, tumbling one
over another, striding to reach the edge
of the pit, and get out of it; but they
were kept in by throwing heaps of bil
lets and faggots upon them, as well to
knock them on the head as to increase
the fire. When they were consumed,
the Bramins drew near to the smoking
pile and performed abundance of ridic
ulous Ceremonies °vet' the Ashes of the
poor wretches. The next day they gath
ered up the bones, and having wrapped
them up in fine linen, carried them to a
place near the Isle of Ramesuren, where
they cast them into the sea. After which,
the pit was filled up, and a temple since
erected on the spot, where sacrifices are
offered up in honor of the prince and
his wives, who from thenceforth are
numbered among the goddesses.
THE RIGHT OF MAN TO THE POSSESSION
OF HIMSELF.- It is mean to steal ; it is
very mean to covet that which justly be
longs to our neighbor ; and we punish
the thief because he has made a forci-
We breach of that tenure which is anted•
ded to secure to every man the posses
sion of his owns But in all this, we
punish as much in sorrow as hi anger;
and unless the act is pattieuiarly wan
ton or aggravated in its character, we nc•
ver entirely lay aside our regret that a
man has exposed himself to merited pun-
And when some poor wretch,
driven by his Wants or by the necessi
ties of a suffering family, has taken by
stealth, that of which he stood in per
ishing want, we allow our sympathies
scope and while we admit the necessity
of the administration of justice we in
voice the gentle ministration of mercy,
and smother our indignation in sorrow
But when a wan, the creature of God,
endowed with reason, gifted with an in
satiable longing after liberty, and dying
with want at its deprivation, takes his
freedom in his own hands and steals and
runs away with himself, no words can
express the rage and indignation with
which the crime is regarded by those
who have adopted the blasphemous dog
ma that man may make merchandise of
man, and their bodies and souls may be
bought and sold like chattles.
ID-An exchange says, Miller, the end
of the world man, is lying desperately
ill. Desperately ill or desperately well
he has been lying desperately this long
Louis Philippe left his umbrella
at Paris. We suppose hot had no use
for it when the reign was emu,