ntaiii*On
BY JAS. CLARK:
CHOICE POETRY
OUlt UNION.,
lII' AIRS. L. IL 51001.111XEY.
Ho !—Eaglo of our banded States,
Wilt drop thine olive fair?
And bid the shafts of war and woo
Speed bursting through the air?
And the soaring eagle !mired
Waving his peace-branch high,
"No ! Freedom's chieftains gave the trust—
Fa guard it, till I die."
Ye stars that shine in sparkling blue
Upon your banner'd
fihall half ho stricken from your place?
And half in clouds concealed I
But silent were those glorious orbs,
With dread amazement fraught,—
Fmch trembling in its chrystal sphere
At the dark traitor thought.
(th, human hearts! to concord train'd
By sires who stood of yore,
As brothers, when around their homes
The Lion ramp'il in gore;
,)VHI ye the heritage they won, .
With ruthless hand, divide?
(hr rend the Gordian knot they drew
Around ye, when they died?
Then from the rater Patrire's tomb,
Beneath Mount Vernon's shade—
And from the hero's bed, who sleeps
In Nashville's beauteous glade,—
And from green Quincy's homed breast,
Where sire and son repose,
‘' Brad: not that band solemn voice
In deep accordance rose.
Hark!—hark!—o'er forests robed in snow—
In sunny, flower-crown'd vales,—
From where the Atlantic's thunder tufo
The fur Pacific hails,—
From mart and dell, where millions dwell,—
By prairie, lake, and hill—
Bolls on, the full, sublime response,
" We NEVER, NEVER will:"
MISCELLANEOUS
THE CREDIT SYSTEM.
BY MRS. SARAH H. HAYES.
"How dreadfully late you are, my dear!" said
Mr. Grayson, the wife of the printer, as he enter
ed his own door at half past eleven, at night.
have watched and watches! for you so long, that I
began to feel uneasy.'
_ _ .
Uneasy—l should think you would have be
come accustomed to irregular hours by this time;
replied he, seating himself upon the chair she
handed, with a sigh.
' You are weariest out,' said his wife, mournful
ly, as he pressed his hand to his throbbing tem
ples, 'you are working yourself to death, and what
it is for I cannot conceive.'
' I wonder how I can help it,' he replied in that
desponding tone which proclaims one miserable
alike both in body and mind. ' I ant half dead
with fatigue, that is true, hut there is no remedy
which I can perceive, fur with all my efli,rts I on
behind and have been utterly unable to get the pa
per out to-day.' _ _
The job of advertising you did yesterday, I
presume is the cause of your being so late,' said
she. Pray, did Mr. Q. pay you for it—five dol
lars, was it not?'
Yes, but ho said I must trust him awhile, as
looney was so scarce.'
Did you ever hear anything like it?' cried Mrs.
indignantly—'money so scarce why, that is
the lute and cry from one end of the country to the
other. I wonder how the people think a printer
is to keep up the expenses of his office—type, ink,
paper, fuel, rent, workmen—and support his fam
ily, if every 10unan being thinks the plea,' Money
is so scarce,' a sufficient excuse for defrauding him
of his honest dues.'
Defrauding is a hard word,' answered the hus
band, musingly, ' and yet, to put a man off with
promises to pay at an indefinite period, to forget
those promises, and perhaps never pay nt all unless
compelled, seems very like it. Did Mr. U. bring
grain to-day?' he enquired, suddenly changing
this unpleasant subject.
No, I saw him hauling a load to Mr. -'s,
but he brought none here. You were in hopes
that advertising for necessaries would have the
desired effect, but you see there is nothing more
easy than to be mistaken.'
think I was mistaken when I selected my oc-
ctipation,' resumed the printer, bitterly. Half
the talent and energy (not to mention the labor)
espended in any other pursuit, would have placed
me ere this on the high road to independence.—
My life is ono of never-ending drudgery, and yet
how little do those of our patrons who are rolling
in wealth ever reflect upon the printer's actual
wants—his many privations, or the shifts he is
obliged to resort to on account of their want of
punctuality in making payments. But I must nut
sit here talking all night, us I shall be obliged to
arise betimes in the morning, in order to get the
paper out as early as possible.'
' I wonder what's the reason the paper don't
come?' said old Squire Burley, the Crcesus of the
village of F., as he sat toasting his feet on the pol
ished fender before a huge tire. 'lt is pretty near
tea time, and it snows so that there is no getting
abroad. I wonder what that lazy editor can be
about to-day.'
' This is about the twentieth time this afternoon
you hare wondered the same thing, Father,' said
his daughter Hester, who oat at the window ol'est-
)pied with her worsted work. 'I never knew be
fore that a newspaper was so essential to your
comfort.'
Essential to my comfort, Miss?' repented the
Squire, turning towards her, with some asperity.
wonder who ever said that it was? There is
NM difference in a thing's being essential to your
comfort, and being punctual yourself and a lover
of punctuality in others'
'Just so I think, my dear,' chimed in Mrs. Bur
ley, speaking from the depths of a cushioned chair,
where she sat like comfort embodied, her feet half
bailed in the tufted flowers of the stool which sup
ported them, and partially dozing over her knitting
work. 'Just so 1 think, if a person don't get a
thing when they look for it, they don't want it at
all, and as the paper is very irregular, if I were
you I would stop it. There is Mr. M. takes sev
eral city papers : you eau borrow them, I dare say,
when he gets through with rending them.
I believe I will,' said the Squire, beating the
Devil's Tattoo with his foot, there is no use of
putting up with everything.'
' I hope you won't stop it for such a trifling rea
son, Father,' cried Hester, with a pleading voice—
why, we would get no local intelligence winger
' er ; and how do we know but Mr. Grayson or some
of his family are ill, that he has been unable to get
it oat to-day? Poor man, lie looks as though he
had the consumption already, standing over the
ease as he does, and in my opinion no one can be
more industrious or try banter to do his duty.—
Printers have a had lot of it anyhow—a life of
ceaseless slavery, with little thanks and less pay.'
People arc not expected to thank and pay both,
my dear,' obserred Mrs. Burley with a smile of
self-satisfaction.
Father, hare you paid Mr. Grayson regularly l'
asked Hester, with a mischievous &raid directed
toward her parent.
Me P said the Squire, slightly blushing, and
fidgeting on his chair, ' I don't know as I have.—
He hasn't been printing but three or four years,
and he never asked me the it but once or twice,
and I did'nt happen to have the change at the time
—however, I shall go up and pay hint off and stop
the paper, to-morrow morning.'
"Man's inhumanity to man
Makes countless thousands mourn,"
repeated Ilester, slowly. 'Pardon me, my dear •
Father,' she continued, more quickly, as she noti
ced his rising anger, 'pray allow me but a few
words—they are these: Ido not think those per
sons, possessed as you are of wealth and ions••
sources of comfort and happiness, can •sympathize
sufficiently with one in Mr. Grayson's situation.—
Sec how he is tied down with his occupation—what
heavy expenses he is obliged to incur—and what
care and attention, what great mental exertion it
requires to cater for the tastes of his hundreds of
readers—and this attention, whether inclined or
not, is continual. The poor editor is allowed no
respite; holidays and seasons of enjoyment may
come to all but him, for the public arc like the
daughters of the horse-leech, their whole cry is
`Give! Give!' and the slightest omission of what
they suppose to be duty on his part—or a single
exhibition of the frailty to which he, as well as
all others, are.subject—or the most t r illing f a ilure
in what they consider the terms of agreement, is
followed by an immediate withdrawal of patron
age; told while his wants are totally disregarded,
their portion of the contract is broken with the
greatest impunity. Patrons would du well, it seems
to me, to consider that the obligation is mutual.--
A good newspaper is worth to any family treble
the sum usually paid for it, and the editor who is
wearing out his existence in the effort to instruct,
interest and amuse his readers, is in every way
worthy of a support liberally and promptly bestow
ed.'
' I guess you must be thinking of taking one of
the craft yourself, or you would not defend them
so warmly,' said the Squire,ptite restored to good
humor as lie looked at his graceful child, and rath
er pleased than otherwise at the fluency of her lan
guage—, but, as we have already had a summons
to tea, suppose wo adjourn to the supper table:.
'They certainly are the victims of the greatest
possible injustice,' continued Hester, ns she prose
to follow after. 'I recollect reading a notice in a
country paper the other day, where the editor
says, 'We aro out of everything—bring on what
you please iu the way of payment, for nothing can
come amiss.' Yet I dare affirm, the most negli:
gent among those subscribers would he the first to
cry out if their particular tastes and wishes wore
not consulted, and to throw up the paper for any
cause however trifling. The best method in my
opinion for obtaining a.good paper, and for insu
ring punctuality, is for all interested in its success,
to fulfil at a proper time, their part of the obliga
tion. Lot each one at a stated period pay his sub
scriptionhis item of the means necessary to
bring about a result so desirable—and my word
fur it, the printer would not be weighed in the ba
lance and found wanting.'
Cr The heart of a generous man is like the
clouds of heaven, which drops upon the earth,
fruits, herbage and flowers. The heart of the un
grateful is like a desert of sand, which swallows
with greediness the showers that fall, buried' them
its its bosom and praltteeth nothing. •
lam' A poetic young mall, in writing of his holy
love, says, "her face is a lamp of alabaster, lit up
with pleasant thoughts." What an interesting light
to write by, especially if she would allow yea to
punctuate with kisses. Take away the sugar Jim.
! be on your guard against the ly
ing handbills of Locofocoism, that will be circula
ted On the eve of the election. All sorts of low
Tntomtv will be resorted to by the unscrupulous
leaders of the opposition. Stand firm, vote TIM
Wino TicnET, and till will he well.
° 7ff, ;WI if
,ToOttaot
HUNTINGDON, PA., TUESDAY, OCTOBER 1, 18,
HEALTH:
Or, the Errors of Mankind.
Health! blooming, bright-eyed, rosy-checked
Health ! How invaluable is it to all who can boast
of being favoured by the delightful and heart-cheer
ing smiles of the ruddy Goddess. Health, indeed,
is a priceless jewel—compared to which all others
sink into insignificance; yet if we look out upon
mankind, we find numbers of the great human fiun
ily, who do nut appreciate its great benefits. Many
there use who recklessly spurt and trifle with their
health, until they find, when too late, that they
have most egregiously erred, by throwing away
that blessing, and trampling it, as it were, beneath
their feet. Health perhaps, has forsaken them for
ever, and then du they awaken to a full sense of
their condition. Then does the truth flash vividly',
before them, that they had enjoyed life's dearest
and richest blessing—and yet, having never felt a
Pang, nor experienced a throb of pain, they were
unconscious of their enviable situation, and became
reckless and lavish of their choice boon. Gaunt
disease has lain its skeleton hands upon them—and
they are prtistrated. They are surrounded by all
the comforts of Lilh—they are surrounded by its
choicest luxuries—live iu the very midst of a large
circle of friends—are blessed with every thing that
wealth and station can command—yet, all these
can have no influence, uo power of bringing back
to the wan cheek, the rosy bloom—to the dull, list
less eye, the joyous sparkle—or impart throughout
the whole system the rich, warm glow of Health.
- How many there are; who, placing so slight an
estimate upon the value of this blessing, indulge
in the most intemperate excesses, both in eating
and drinking, as well as in various other ways alike
detrimentid to their health, and consequently des
tructive to all their happiness and enjoyment in life,
thus virtually committing—Moral Suicide.
How frequently may an individual be seen, who
is fast impairing his health—in whose breast arc
omen the seeds of some fell disease, which ultimate
ly will lead hint to an untimely grave. Yet this
individual is consciously pursuing a course which
is wearing away the strength of his system, and is
effectually quenching the glowing fire of health.—
You may talk to him—you may plead with him,
and, although he may acknowledge that his occu
pation and his habits are detrimental to his enjoy
ment of health, yet he will continue—and espe
cially if his occupation be a lucrative one—in the
course he is pursuing, until it shall have been too
\ o w , ...... 011:1. ••••,, •
recovery. Alt! what would he then not give;
. .
were it lus power to retrace his steps! But it
is too late. Ile has wasted the very soul of his ex
istence in adding to his hoarded gains of wealth.
Gold has been his God. To its shrine he has how.
ed as its faithful slave. Upon its altar lie has sac
rificed his all—lie has given himself as a willing
victim to its insatiate demands,
Young females of the Nineteenth Century arc
too apt to trifle with their health by wearing such
Ltpparel as is but illy adapted to the climate) in
which ire live, or the season which may be present
with us. They will too frequently destroy their
health—thus blasting their happiness fur life-4-for
the pleasure and enjoyment of an hour. Alt, what
consumate fully! Tight lacing, thin dresses and
thin shoes can number a host of victims, now cold
in the grave. These things should be a warning
to the American female, awl teach her to prize
Health more than it is generally done. It should.
teach her to tiAlow the pure and simple instruc
tions of Nature, nod throw aside the whims of Fun
cY, mid the caprices of Fashion.
Without health there is no enjoyment. The
body is diseased—the mind is impaired. Life be
comes a Living Death. It is dragged out in mis-
cry and anguish.
How careful then, should every one be to prove
; true to themselves—to tiolfill the station destined
them by their Creator—to preserve their Health
—to keep pure the fountain, that thereby the streams
runniugiont it mud never lie rendered turbid, but
always flow in crystal Cielllllo.-11 estent Empo-
LoTe of the Beautiful.
The love of the beautiful and true, like the dew
drops in the heart of the crystal, remains for ever
clear and liquid in the inmost shrine of mint's be
ing, though all the rest be turned to stone by sor
row and degradation. The angel who has once
come down into the soul, will not he driven thence
by any sin and baseness, even much less by any
undeserved oppression or wrong. At the sours
gate sits she silently, with folded hands and down
cast eyes, but, at the least touch of nobleness,
those patient orbs are serenely uplifted, and the
whole spirit is lightened with their prayerful lustre.
Over all life broods poesy, like the calm blue sky,
with its motherly rebuking face. She is the true
preacher of the word, and when, in time of danger
and trouble, the established shepherds have cast
down their crooks, she tenderly careth for the flock.
On her calm and fearless heart rests weary Freedom
when all the world have driven her from the door
with scoffs and mocking.. From her white breast
flows the strong milk which nurses our heroes and
martyrs; and she blunts the sharp tooth of the fire,
makes the as edgeless, and dignifies the pillory or
the gallows. She is the great reformer, and, where
the love of her is strong and healthy, wickedness
cannot bung prevail. The more love is cultivated
and retinal, the more do men strive to make thei r
outwarilminAs rythmical and harmonious, that they
may accord with that inward and dominant rythm
by whose key the composition of all noble and
worthy deeds is guided.
10" At a parish examination, a clergyman as
ked a charity boy if he had ever been bapthed.
"No, sir," was the reply, "not as I linowS of; but
I'v been travitiatol."
HUMOROUS SKETCH,
A Shooting Exploit of Sheridan,
Toni Sheridan used to tell a story for and against
imself, which we shall take leave to relate.
He was staying at Lord Craven's, at Benham,
(or rather Hampstead), and one day proceeded on
a shooting excursion, like hawthorn, with only
" his dog and his gun," on foot, and unattended
by companion or keeper; the sport was bad—the
birds few and shy—and he walked and walked in
search of game, until unconsciously, he entered the
dotnain of some neighboring squire. A very short
time after, he perceived advancing towards hint,
at the top of his speed, a jolly, comfortable-looking
gentleman, followed by a servant, armed, as it up
ponred, for conflict. Tom took up a position, and
waited the approach •of the enemy.
"Hallo! you, sir," said the squire, when with
in half-earshot, " what aro you doing here, sir,
eh?"
" I'm shooting, sir," said Tom.
"Do you know whim,: you arc sir ?" said the
squire.
"Pm here, sir," said Turn.
"Here, sir !" said the squire, growing angry,
"nod do you know where here a, sir?—these, sir,
are my manors; what d'ye think of that, sir, eh ?"
" Why, sir, as to your manners," said Tom, "1
can't say they seem over agreeable."
"I don't want any jokes, sir," said the squire;
"I hate jokes. Who are you, sir—what are you?"
" Why, sir," said Tom, "my name is Sheridan •
—I am staying at Lord Craven's-1 have come
out for some sport—l have not had any, and, am
not aware that I am trespassing."
" Sheridan !" said the squire, cooling a little,
"oh, from Lord Craven's eh? Well, sir, I could
not know dun, sir—l—"
" No, sir," said Torn, "hut you need not have
been in a passion."
"Not in a passion, Mr. Sheridan !" said the
squire; "you don't know, sir, what these preserves
have cost me, and the pains and trouble I have
been at with them ; it's all very well for you to
talk, but if you were in my place, I should like to
know what you would say upon such an occasion."
"Why, sir," said Tom, "if I were inyour place,
under all the eiremnstances, I should say—l am
convinced, Mr. Sheridan, you did not mean to an
noy me; and us you look a good deal tired, per
haps you'll come up to my house and take some
ref fit in igie ' was nu mini ny tins nonenniance,
and (as the newspapers say) 'it is needless to add,'
acted upon Sheridan's suggestion.
"So far," said poor Tom, "the story tells for
me—now you shall hear the sequel."
After having regaled himself at the squire's
house, and having said live hundred • more good
things than ho swallowed; having delighted his
host, and more than half won the hearts of his
wife and daughters, the sportsman proceeded on
his return homewards.
In the course of his walk he passed through a
farm yard; in the front of the farm-house was a
green, in the centre of which was a pond—in the
pond were ducks innumerable, swimming and di
ving; on its verdant banks a motley group of gal
lant corks and pert partlets, picking and feeding—
the farmer was leaning over the hatch of the barn,
which stood near two cottages on the side of the
green.
- -
Tian hated to go back with an empty bag; and
having tidied in his attempts at higher game, it
struck him as a good joko to ridicule the exploits
of the day himself, in order to prevent any one else
from doing it WI- him; and he thought that to car
ry home a certain number of the domestic inhab
itants of the pond and its vicinity, would serve the
purpose admirably. Accordingly, up he goes to
the farmer, and accosts hint very civilly— .
"My good friend," says Tom, " I'll malio you
an offer."
"Of what, sir?" says tbo farmer.
" Why," replies Tom, "I have been out all day
fagging after birds, and hav'nt had a shot; now,
both my barrels aro loaded, I should like to . take
home something; what shall I give you to let me
have a shut with each barrel at those ducks and
' fowls—l standing here, and to have whatever I kill?"
" What sort of a shot aro you?" said the farmer.
"Fairish," said Tom, "fitirish."
"Awl to have all you kill?" asked the farmer.
"Exactly so," said Tom.
" Half a guinea," said the farmer.
" That's too much," said Tom. "I'll tell you
what I'll do—l'll give you a seven shilling piece,
which happens to be all the money I have in toy
pocket."
"Well," said the man, "hand it over."
The payment was made—Tom, true to his bar
gain, took up his post by the barn door, and let
fly with one barrel, and then with the other; and
such quacking, and splashing, and screaming, and
fluttering, had never been seen in that place before.
Away ran Toni, and, delighted at his success,
picked up first a hen, then a chicken, then fished
out a dying duck or two, and so on, until he num
bered eight head of domestic game, with which his
hag was nobly distended.
" Those wore right good shots, sir," said the
farmer.
" Yes," said Tom; "eight ducks and fowls are
worth more than you bargained for, old fellow—
worth rather more, 1 suspect, thau seven shillings
—eh?"
" Why, ycs," said the man, scratching his head,
"I think they he, but what du I care for that—they
are none of Mine
"Here," said Tom, "I was for once in un lift
bcaten, and made (ass first as 1 could, for fear du
right owner of my ganie migls, make his appear.
mice—not but that I could have gives the fell.,
who took me in seven times us much ats I did, fol
his cunning and coolnct..."
oeiege•
50.
THE "OLD TIMM
God bless the good old Thin
Clod bless the young lines
Who caws fin. musty 1451101
God bless them—old nod r
The old ones first our frcedoi
In bloody fights of yore;
The young ones have theirri
As the old ones did before.
Or South or North, or East
Twin sisters all they be,
One mother nursed them at
And that was Liberty.
And may the wretch whose
To eat their vital thread,
Be scorned while in this wot
And scorned when he is d,
Now fill the howl with Nater
Let's drink "God save tin
The only King by right (rid
The sovereign People Kb
For they're the only King I
All others I despise,
The King that towers above
The King that never dies.
Taking the Ceti
Some rich scenes occurred in I
uler the lto• for that purpose.
um an eye-witues,, is ono:
,' Is the head of the family at
enquiring marshal,
" Thero'g the d-4 with hi
d'roctory," shouts a junior
the maternal head above the stall
appears. "It is the heads of the
sure? hut last week ye wanted o
d'reetory, an' now yer after out
country this, sure, when one's hei
off an' had had; to ye, and all lil
After some explanations, the
arc asked :
" Who is the bend of the fami
"Ann Mahoney, yer honor;
rebind, and forever."
"How many males in this far
"Three males a day, with Is
" But how many men and boy
three children who died five yi
rest their dear souls—the swate,t.
"But how many are living ?"
" Meyself and me daughter J
and a jewel of a girl she is lads
" But have you no males in y
" Sorra the one; the ould m
day and isn't at home at all, bu
his bed, nor Patric!: :lithe,"
"Pose many are subject to
" Niver a one: Patrick and tt
to the immets, (the Emmets,
corps) un' sure finer looking n
horn."
" How many are entitled to v
"Why the ould man an'
varn't it we that hate the nail
al, an' elected Mr. Polk over
lay he died an' disappointed ns
"flow many colored persons
" Nagers ! what, nagers ,I 0 yoi
an' don't be insultin' inc. Out
ask for Inc senses agin ;—don't
ses—wither i linen nnget•s in in,
of yet• senses yerself; begone,
Anecdote of La,
It is related of Latimer, tin]
preached before that tyrant, !lc
a plain, straight-forward test,
assailed those very sins for whic
notorious, and he was stung to t
always finds a response in the
science. He would not bend Is
ity of his God, but sent for La
"Your life is in jeopardy, if yo
you said to-day, when you prop
The trimming courtiers were al
the consequences of this, and the
ed. The venerable man took h
pause, began with a soliloquy tl
"Now, Ilugh Latimer, heath
the presence of thy earthly mon
his hands, and if thou lost not
will bring down thy gray hairs
Hugh Latimer, bethink thee, tt
once of the King of Kings, at
who Lath told thee, 'Fear not
hotly, and can do no more ; b
who can kill both hotly and sod
to hell 'brevet* r Yea, I say, I
lie then went on, end not
he had before advanced, but, i
it with greater emphasis. AI
henry sent for him and said:
insult thy monarch so t" Li
thought if I were unfaithful t
not be loyal to my King." 'I
the good old Bishop, exclaim'
one man left who is bold em
(truth."
Alrs. l'artington, trhit
11111 the other day, on I,o:ing
lotion:try relics and Seottisll,
soperiutoutlant if he had auto]
tint "axe or the apostles."
Vi 'The lady that shwa w
has gone to Niagara, to spell.'
geittlentatt that Lever burro wt