Huntingdon journal. (Huntingdon, Pa.) 1843-1859, May 29, 1849, Image 1
BY JAS. CLARK. [From the Union Magazine.] Christ in the Glarden. BY MRS. C. L. M. MILLS, He trod the garden—sad and lone— fie, whose whole life was one of pain— And in His agony h. prayed, While sweat-drops fell like summers rain. Those drops, oh, man ! thy life-long tears Would scarce repay the treachery— And yet He pardons, He who died, Who suffered to atone for thee ! He trod the garden—Those who came At His command, together slept, Ay, those whose task it should have been To wake and Weep, no vigils kept. How sad—how sad ! to find the few, The chosen of His little band, Sluinh'rim4 thus softly, when His words 'Foretold the final hour at hand. Twice to the sleepers' side He drew, Rebuking them in gentle tone; But heavier weighed their eyelids down, And still He watched and prayed alone. An hour passed by—He call'd—again—W But no rebuke His words expressed ; 4 , Sleep on," in music strains Ile said, Sleep on, sleep on, and take your rest." The time bud come—the garden fair, Where that meek sufferer humbly prayed, Became the scene of strife and blood, And basely there he was betrayed ! Offending man, strive, strive with faith, To make atonement for thy guilt, For 'twos for thee, and thee alone, The Saviour's precious blood was spilt. '[From Grahatn's Magazine.] LUCK IS EVERY THING, BY JOSEPH U. CHANDLER The ctitirse of true love, it is said, did never yet run smoth ; and those who have had expe rience on that turnpike of the aff,ctions, or rath er railroad, as it is soon run over, bear testimo ny to the jolts, "running nit," and mashing up alive, of al! which the pots speak. We have no great taste, in this time of politics and perplex ities, to dabble in "fancy stocks," and risk our reputation ror gravity; yet the illustration of an aphorism of admitted truth, may be considered seasonable, and the moral deduced from the il lustration may compensate sonic for the trouble of reading it. In the year 1811—we remember the time well, b2canie a part of the incidents of the story were conroeted with a great event, an event not likely to be forgotten—well, in the year 1814 a young man, who to a visionary mind, and a consequent want of employment, added a most desperate affection far a young lady, quite too good for him, if business pursuits were alone considered, but just his match, if confiding affec tion, purity of mind, and innocence of purpose, are the reward of large endowments, strict in ttgrity, and desire for honest competence, with out the means of obtaining it. There was no mare pleasing young man in the thriving village than Henry Bradford; and eve-' ry body agreed with his neighbors, that he was the most agreeable person and the best educated about. But he did not stu.ly law, he despised medicine and did not take to the church ; he had frequently thought of “merchandize," but that required a capital, which he could not raise, and so he did not go ahead though he Was forever on the brink of Some wonderful success, which he certainly would have secured, if he had only en tered upou the enterprise. Mary Carver evidently loved Henry Bradford; for knowing that, excepting his handsome person, pleasing manners and good character, he had nothing to offer, she would not have been deaf to the offers of so many young men, whose char acter and position rendered them desireable to the family. These offers were repeated so of ten, and hints so strong were given to Mr. and Mrs. Carver, that it was deemed proper after a serious deliperation in cabinet council, toadmon ish their daughter that henry was in nn business, and was not likely to be in a way to maintain a family. Mrs. Carver opened the diplomacy with the daughter, and, after two or three conferences retreated under the laugh of itlary, who declared that she did not doubt that Heurywould one day be rich enough to tette care of both, for he had a dream that lie should be. Mrs. Carver had no disposition to laugh in such a serious mission, and no desire to be angry with her daughter. Mary, however, knew that when her father came to nefotiate, she would have to use other arguments than laughter, and therefore she ad monished Henry of the approaching storm. 'Hen ry thought of it two or three days, an unusual time for him to devote to any thing like his per tonal affairs. At length the family was honored by a for mal offer from a clergyman in a neighboring town. Ile was learned, pious, rich, and respected, and such an offer was not to be slighted. It was not slighted. Old Mr. Carver took the subject to heart, and Mrs. Carver gave her sheer muslin a double clear starching upon the very idea of her becoming mother-in-law to a minister. Mary pondered these things in her heart. She saw the improbability of Henry's ever attaining a situation that would warrant matrimony. She was listening to her mother's account of his ward of application to business, his apparent dis regard of attaining competence, and of his sifter luck of what is called common sense; and the old lady concluded her homily with a remark, that she believed Henry Bradford would think more of a dream of 'wealth twice repeated, than of the best prospeets that ever presented for bus iness preferment. ‘,°A.Aldingbon "Mother," said Mary, "Henry is not a fool." "No," said Mrs. Carver, hesitatingly, "he is not a fool, certainly." "Why, then do you talk so of him?" asked Mary. "But he is coming•now," continued the girl. "Speak no him, plainly, my child," said Mrs. Carver. Henry came with his usual pleasant humor and sat down by Mary, and, after a few words, he perceived that something was wrong. Mary made no answer, for she was a little mortified at the ludicrous turn which her moth er had given to Henry's rather dreamy proposi tion, though she had never heard him build any castles in the air out of any such materials. "Mary ," said he, "have you been reading the Sorrows of Werther V' “No, Henry, but I have been listning to moth er's sorrows—her lamentations over you. She says—" "Never mind what she says, Mary, as I per ceive it is not very good, just listen to what I have to tell." what is it, Henry? I hope it is good." "Excellent, capital ; it will be delightful." "Do, then, tell me what it is." "Why, last Sunday night I Dreamed that—" "Dreamed!" exclaimed Mary, with a most dolorous sigh. "Aye, dreamed." “—Well, go on." "I dreamed that I had drawn ten thousand dol larsin the Ply mouth Beach Lottery." "Well, what then'!" "Why, I dreamed the same on Monday night and on Tuesday night, and the number was 5,4, 3,2. Well, I sent right to Boston on Wednes day, and purchased the ticket, and here it is; you shall keep it, Mary, and when I go up to Boston for the prize, you shall go with me." Poor Mary smiled mournfully and reproach ingly. Henry left the house and went home, satisfied that he had made a right disposition of the ticket. Day after day did Henry watch at the Post Office, to read the first report of the drawing; but day after day passed without the desired in formation. At lenght one of the young men was heard to remark, that Henry Bradford had shot out of the Post Office, as if he had received some special intelligence. "Mary," said Henry, “here is your tether's paper, and look at the returns. No. 5,4,3,2, TEN THOUSAND DOLLARS !" Mary turned pale—the news was unexpected "Let's go to Boston," said Henry, "and get the money." "The prizes are payable thirty days after drawing," said Mary, looking at the bottom of the ticket. That night Mary told her mother of Henry's luck. Mrs. Carver seemed rather startled. , Are you not pleased, mother 7" asked Mary ; “do you wish to oppose other obstacles to our union "Mary," said Mrs. Carver, "do you not rec collect the most uncompromising hostility which your father has to lotteries—his utter abomina tion of money thus distributed I This prize will be worse to him than poverty. Ever since they refused to make him manager in the Plymouth Beach Lottery, he has set down the whole as gambling, and every prize as the devil's gift for mischief; and to say the truth most people be gin to hold opinions with him." "Why, mother, every body did not ask to be made a manager, in the lottery." “Islo,no ; but people may, like your father, ar rive at correct conclusions from selfish consid erations, and good opinions may become general without any special motive for the change." The next day Mary gave back to Henry his ticket, with an account of her conversation with her mother. Henry was mortified at the result; lie under stood and appreciated the feelings of the "old folks" and, in any other person's case he might have approved of it. "But what does your father want I" said Hen ry. "Does he suppose that the mode adopted to build churches, endow schools and finish public works, is too impure to supply the needy purse of one who wishes to be his son-in-law He is much more nice than wise." "My father," said Mary, "may not think him self called upon to be as particular about what concerns the public charities, corporations, or different individuals, as he is and is bound to be, in what concerns the respectability of his own family." “But if I acquire wealth by lawful meams- , -" “Henry, father never asked that you should be wealthy: he thought it proper, and he makes it a condition of our marriage that you should have some respectable business, since you have not wealth." "And your father is right," said Henry "but bow am Ito get clear of the odium of my lotte ry prize, I can neither see nor guess." "Perhaps you will dream it through," said Mary archly. "I can dream of nothing but schooners, brigs, and ships," said Henry. 44 011, if you only owned a good vessel," said Mary, "I do not know but father would almost forgive its coming as a prize." "A prize to a privateer," said Henry, "but not in a lottery." Henry wandered down toward the wharvesand HUNTINGDON, PA,, TUESDAY, MAY 29, 1849. unoccupied ship yards. The war allowed of lit tle or no work among the ship builders. The hull of a fine brig lay at the wharf. She had been launched a year and there was none to pur chase her. She was too clumsy for a privateer. "Mr. Holmes," said Henry, "what is that ves sel worth 1" "She is worth twenty thousand dollars," said the owner and builder, "she cost that as she is, and will bring twenty-five thousand the very hour peace is declared." "Would you like the money for her at a cash price 1" "Nothing could be more acceptable. But there are not fifteen thousand dollars in the county." The remarks of Mary about her father's re spect for a ship owner had been running in Hen ry's head ever since they were uttered, and he beckoned aside the owner. "Mr. Holmes," said Henry, "I have a com mission to fulfil, and, as you kuow I am not much of a business man, I must ask you to con sider a proposition which I am about to make to you, and to answer me explicitly." "Let me hear your proposition." "1 will give you ten thousand dollars for the brig as she now hes." "And the time of payment?" "Within forty days. You cannot want the money sooner ; the river is frozen over, and you could not make use of the cash, before that time." Mr. Holmes turned to Bradford, and said: "You know, Henry, that I am aware that you have not the means of payment, and also that yon are a person not likely to be employed as an agent in such business, and yet I have every con fidence in your word." Henry explained fully to the ship owner the state of his affairs, an exhibited to him the lot tery ticket, No. 5,4,3,2. "But," said Mr. Holmes, "there may be some mistake about the matter, or some failure of the lottery, by which I should lose." Henry explained his motives and wishes, and in two hours he held in his hand a bill of sale of the brig Helvetius, which, as the papers were not obtained, he immeidately named MARY. The condition was, that Henry was to hold the vessel forty days, and if, within that time, he should pay ten thousand dollars, she was to be his; if not, she was to revert to Mr. Holmes, who, in the mean time, held the ticket as a sort of collateral. The bill of sale as I saw it bore date the sth of Febuary, 1815. Henry felt like a new man. Ile was ship ownerin a place where that char acter was a sort of aristocracy. He went day after day to look at his brig, wishing for the time to pass away for the price to be paid ; but he said nothing to Mr. Carver. One evening, while Henry was talking to Ma ry, she asked him what he intended to do when the forty days were up. "Rig her, bend her sails, nail then sell her, or send her to sea." "Why Henry it took the whole of the ticket to buy the hull and the, standing spars, and it will take half as much more to rig her and find canvass ; and, besides that, how can you sell her for more than Mr. Holmes could." Henry hesitated, he had not thought of that ; but he did not doubt but it would all come right yet. Henry was sitting the next day on the quarter rail of his brig, looking at the'masts, well cover ed with snow and ice, and thinking of the better appearance she would make when the rigger had done his duty.—At lenght he felt the hand of Mr. Holmes upon his shoulder. "Henry," said the latter, "I am sorry to have bad news to tell you. Read that paragraph in the Boston Sentinel." "Conanc•rio:.—The ticket which drew the highest prize in the Plymouth Beach Lottery was 4,5,3,2, and not as our compositors stated last week, 5,4,3,2. We understand that a gentle man of wealth in the southern part of this town is the fortunate holder." "What do you say to that, Henry 1" "Only that the old gentleman will not now say that I have the wages of gambling." "No, nor will he give you the credit of being a ship owner," said Mr. Holmes. "You have been unfortunate, Henry, and I am sorry for you," continued Mr. Holmes, changing his tone considerably; "and regret my own loss, as I have need of the money ; but, as you cannot pay for the brig, you would better hand me the bill of sale and I will destroy it." Henry drew from his pocket the precious doc ument, and while he examined it from top to bot tom, he said to Mr. Holmes "This atlbir has been to me like a pleasant dream, not only on ac count of my aspirations for Mary, which you are acquainted with, but day after day I have felt a growing energy for business, a sort of outreach ing of the mind, a determination, with such a no ble beginning, to proceed cautiously but steadily to do what I ought to have done long since. Then, Mr. Holmes, as the bill has yet some days to run, before 1 can be chargeable with violatidu of con tract, I will restore it to my pocket-book, and if I cannot dream as I have done, I shall not, at least, be awakened too suddenly." Mr. Holmes, of course, consented, as he real ly had no right to claim the vessel until the for ty days should have expired; and Henry went up to tell Mary of the new turn his luck had taken. Though Mary respected her father too much not to feel pleasure in Henry's new possession, yet she loved Henry too much not to feel deeply grieved at his bitter disappointment. "That dream," said Henry, doubtingly “that dream has not yet come to pass." Some days after that them was, as usual, a gathering at the post office, at some distance from the ship yarn, awaitiug the arrival of the mail. The stage, at the usual hour drove np, and the driver said, as he handed the mailbag into the house, that he guessed there was better news to-day than he had brought since the vic tory on the . lakes. „ Another victory, Mr. Woodward I” "No, not another victory, but PeAcs!" "Can you tell me," said a dapper looking young gentleman, as he slipped from the stage, "where I can find Mr. Holmes, the owner of brig Helvetius I,' "Mr. Holmes lives on the bill yonder," was the reply, "hut it is thought he does not own the Ilelvetius now." "Has he sold her I" "Yes." "I am very sorry for that—who is the own er 1" "Mr. Bradford—the young man whom you see reading the newspaper." The stranger stepped into the house, and in quired of Henry whether he would sell the brig. Henry said he would most cheerfullly part with her. "At what price 1" "At the peace price." " Stagg is ready," said Mr Woodward, the driver, "We will ride over to the village," said Hen ry, “and converse on the matter as we go along." Henry soon emerged from the stage coach and hastened to Mr. Carver's. "You look cheerful," said Mary, "I have drawn another prize 1" "Not another I hope !" "Yes, and a large one ; I have sold the brig for twenty thousand dollars to a Boston House and I an to be in Plymouth at three o'clock, to get my pay at the Bank." "But the brig was not yours, Henry. Surely you are not deranged—you could not hold the brig after the mistake of the prize was correc ted." "There is just where you are mistaken, Mary. There is a bill of sale which allows forty days from date for payment.. Sarnothing to any one," cried Henry, "and I will see you before I sleep.' "What's the matter with henry?" said Mrs. Carver as she entered the room; "has he drawn another prize 1" "I guess not, mother," said Mary, "only drea ming again, perhaps." At nine o'clock, Henry arrived from Ply mouth, with an accepted draught for ten thousand dollars in favor of Mr. Holmes, and a bank book in which he had credit for an equal sum : and the brig Mary Made sum of the most profita ble voyages that were ever projected in Boston. She was in the East India trade, and as her return was noticed in the papers, (and it was usually announced about the Caine time that the very respectable familly of Bradford had an in crease.) Henry was wont to exclaim, "luck is every thing." Sonic years after that, twenty-five at least, as I was riding out into Plymouth, with Brad ford arid his grand-daughter, I refered to the anecdote, and the conclusion, that "lock is every thing." "There may be something in luck, but the HOPE which I gathered while I held the ticket, with the belief that I had a prize, the resolu tions which I formed while sitting and gazing at the lofty spars of my brig, and the confiding virtue, the filial piety, and the perfect love of Mary did all for me, and I should have been rich without the brig; so you see it was Hope, contemplation, and woman's virtue, woman's piety, and woman's love, that made me what I am. And let me add, friend C., that you and I owe more to woman than the world credets to her. Let its at least do her justice." Courtship and Marriage. The difference between Courtship and Mar riage, was never more forcibly explained than it is in the following What made you get married if you don't like it'?" "Why, I was deluded into it—fairly deluded —I had nothing to do of evenings, so I went courting. Courting is fun enough—l have not got a word against it. It's about as good a way of killing an evening as I know of. Wash your face, put on a clean dickey, and go and talk as sweet as sugar and molasses candy for an hour or two, to say nothing of a few kisses be hind the door, as your sweetheart goes to the step with you. 4 , When I was a single man, the world wag ged well enough. It was just like an omnibus ; I was a passenger, paid my levy, and hadn't got nothing more to do with it but sit down, and didn't care a button for any thing. Sposin' the omnibus got upset, well, I walks oft; and leaves the man to pick up the pieces. But then I must take a wife and be hanged tome. It's all very well for a while; but afterwards, its pla guey Eke owning an upset omnibus." How To Fix 'Est.—Mrs. Swissheld, of the Pittsburg Saturday Visiter, goes for horse-whipping drunkards to reform them, and in answer to those who charge her with want of womanly sympathy, quotes the passage: "Whom the Lord loveth be ehasteneth, and scourgeth ev- ery son whom he receiveth." fkO , ri nn,4,i The Mothers Fatal Mistake. Who among the children of men requires so Much wisdom as the mother of a family 1 The statesman requires wisdom that he may so ad vise or direct as to secure the happiness and prosperity of the nation ; but shotild one states man act unwisely, another may step in to repair the evil, and so his country may be saved from impending ruin. The merchant needs wisdom, and foresight, and tact, that he may guide his affairs with discretion—but should his plans be all frustrated, and riches make themselves wings, and fly away at one period of his life, he may have them restored at another, so at the close of his lire he may have his family in case and comfort. The farmer needs wisdom in cul tivating his land or arranging his stock, so as to bring him the best return for his labor and toil ; but should he fail one year to realize his hopes, the next may make up the deficiency.— The navigator needs wisdom to guide his frail bark over the trackless deep, so that he may es cape the rocks, and quicksands, and whirlpools which may be in his way ; but should he be un fortunate and become a wreck, he has a chance of being saved by holding on to the rigging or escaping in his boat, and in this, painful situa tion may find timely help from another voyager. But the Mother! if slag makes a mistake in her mighty work, the probability is that it will prove fatal. Her little bark, which has just been launched upon the ocean of life, will find many rocks, and quicksands, and whirlpools in its way—she, the ?nether, is to be the pilot for the most important part of the voyage, and if she fails to guide it aright, dreadful will be the wreck when it dashes over the precipice of time into eternity. There will be no kind hand, no returning season, to repair the injury; the work is done, and clone badly ; and eternity will echo and re-echo the dreadful tale of a chilil lost through its mother's neglect ! ]From the National lntelligencer.] ARGUM ENTUM AD HOMINUM Gen. T., 01 New York, a gentleman of known wealth and liberality, was not long since called upon by a person to obtain his signature on a petition for the abolition of capital punishment. The person unfolded his papers and documents, and presented and enforced his arguments in rnther a tiresome set-speech, stopping ; sear sionally to deposit a mouthful of tOtaTco-jitice upon a nice parlor carpet. Gm. T. was in lavor of diminishing capital punishments, but doubt ed the propriety or expediency of abolishing them in all cases. At the expression of this opinion his visiter began to bridle up and pre pare to lay down his arguments with greater force; and, in order to give greater facility to his enunciation, he took from Isis mouth a huge quid of tobacco and threw it upon the white ,marble hikrth, saying he wished the General would be g'S good as to inform him in what cases capital punishment could ever be justified or defended. Well," said the General, r 0 it strikes me that, if we are going to abolish capital punish ment, there are two cases which should be made exceptions." Two cases, am there?" said the petitioner. Well, sir, I should like to hear them stated, and the arguments for them." The first," said the General, is that of clear, cold-blooded, premeditated murder. I think the person who lies in waiting or ambush with malice prepence, and takes the life of his fellow-creature, ought to forfeit his life in re turn, He deserves to be hung." Well, I haveabundance of arguments to meet that ease," said the visiter. Now I should like to know what is your other case." The other case," said the .3eneral,. is that of the animal that walks on two legs, calls itself a man, and carries a mouthful of disgusting filth into a clean house, and there pours it about the carpet, and scatters it over the hearth. Such a being is certainly not fit to live in decent socie ty, and I do not know of any better or more ready mode of getting rid of him, than to hang him. With these two exceptions, I think I should be willing to sign your petition for the abolition of capital punishment.' The visiter gathered up his papers, thrust them into his pocket, and, with a very. blank look, hastily withdrew. He has not called since to receive the General's signature. Splitting the Difference. The author of the following atrocious libel on the ladies has escaped. A sharp look-out should be kept for him. A nice young, man, not a thousand miles from this, after a long and assiduous court ship, found himself, one bright evening, the betrothed of a very pretty girl, the very pink of modesty. One night he was about to take his departure, and af ter lingering about the door for some time, in n fidget of anxiety, declated he would not leave her until she kissed him. Of course, Miss Nancy blushed beauti fully red, and protested,• in turn, that she could not and would not do that— she never had done such a thing, and never would until she was married, now he had it. The altercation became deep and exciting, until the betrother buffed outright, and declared if he couldn't kiss her ha couldn't have her, and was marching off. She watched him nt the gate, and saw " the fat was in the fire" unless something was done. " Come back, then!" said she coax ingly, "11l split the difference with you —you may squeeze my hand !" VOL. XIV, NO, 20 The Dance of Life. Humen life is a mere dance—the nur sery a bawl room 1 Old maids and ' bach elorst fur want of partners are compelled to exhibit in apes seul. Knavery prac tices the shuffle, while pride; prudence and experience are professors of the art of cutting. Courage tenches the "en avant," and discretion ("the better part of valor") the "en arriere." Some are happy in their choice or "partners," and . many are doomed to go through tho whole "dance" with the dowerless and disagreeable Miss-Fortunes and Miss- Chances. The ambitious and would 4)e great are constantly struggling to showh off in if particular "set ; ' but, notwithstanding the pains they take in their "steps," frequently experience the mortification of a "doe a dos," when they are anxious ly exerting all their efforts for a smiling "vie a Ins." These are the "ups and downs" of the "dance." The "lords of creation," (with. few exceptions) are very awkward and ungainly ; while, "loVely woman" is most generally perfect in the "figure." Love is generally "master of ceremo nies ;" but being rather par-blind, makei the most ridiculous mistakes in intro ducing "partners ;" and, although A 11- rice (who officiates in the higher circles) is lynx-eyed, he commits as many errors in "coupling" the company, as his coad jutor. Hope illnrninates the "festive scene," and away they bound on the "likht fan tastic toe"—hands across—down the middle—up again—till Time steps in and throws a damp upon their merri ment—the piper stops for "want of breath," and—the dance beds ! Exercise of the Mind: Persons who are much employed in pursuits involving manual labor are apt t 3 undervalue the necessity of exercising their minds more fully than the mere thinkingS immediately connected with their purSuitS. To such we would say; your power of applying your mind in •tently to any subject will be in exact proportion to the amount of exercise you have giVen it. The arm of the blacksmith, or the leg of the dancing master, increases in size by its exercise, and the brain of the law; yer gains activity and strength from a similar cause. Even the eye may be improved in the* exercise of its functions by use. Tline the artist and the dealer in dry goods both remember and observe colors with greater exactness than those not so em , ployed. Go to our prisons and observe those who have worked in silence for many years at some monotonous occupation, without the opportunity of listening to conversations, or of refering to books, without change of scene or other cause for exercise of thought, and you will in variably find that they have lessened in the power of thinking ; their memories; and indeed every quality of their Minds, will be found to have deteriorated. With sorb facts as these fairly liner: , mined, is it not both slothful aid Sinfut for farmers to doze away their evenings in a sort of half concionstiess, and then retire to bed like beasts of burden, in stead of spending g single hour, at Jeast, each evening, in a healthy and proper exercise of their minds. Married Life. The following true sentiments ere from tho pen of the charming writers Fredericka Bremer, whose observation§ might well become the rule of life, so tip; propriate arc they to many of its phases: Deceive not one another in small shines nor in great. One little single lie has, before now; disturbed a whole married life. A small cause has often produced great consequences. Fold not your hands together and sit idle. Lazi ness is the the devil's cushion. Do not run much from your home. One's own health is worth more than gold. Many a marriage, my friend, begins like the rosy morning, and then falls away like a snow wreath. And whyl Because the married pair neglect to be as well pleased with each other after marriage as before. Endeavor always, my chil dren, to please one another, but at the same time keep God in your thoughts. Lavish not all your thoughts on to-day, for remember that marriage has its to-morrow, and its day after to-mor. row, too,' spare,' as we may say, fuel for the winter.' Consider, my daughter, what the word wife expresses: The married woman is the husband's domestic faith; in tier hands must he be able to confide house and family, be able to trust her with the key of his heart, as well as the key of his eating room. His honor and his home are tin der her keeping, his well being is in her hand. Think of this ! Arid ye sons, be faithful husbands and good fathers of fatnilies. Act so that your wives shall esteem and love you.