Huntingdon journal. (Huntingdon, Pa.) 1843-1859, July 01, 1852, Image 1

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    VOLUME XVII.
TERMS OF PUBLICATION:
Tzrr;• o ° lIIINTINODON JOURNAL" is published at
the follows rates, viz:
If paid in advance, per annum, $1,50
If paid during •the year,
If paid after the expiration of the year, • 2,50
To Clubs of five or more, in advance, • • 1,25
Tuz above Terms will be adhered to in all cases.
No subscription will be taken fora less period than
six months, and no paper will be discontinued un
til all arrearages are paid, unless at the option of
the publisher.
Vortical.
From tho Lady's Book.
THE FLOWERS OF SPRING.
BY It. W. SMITH,
We have seen them by the forest shade,
And by the son-lit streams;
In childhood's wake, in manhood's years,
They are mingled in our dreams;
A nd oft they win our memory back
To some forgotten thing,
To seek the joy over childhood found
Among the flowers of spring.
But oh! they win us back in vain;
":%io after spring renews
That gift of vanquished sunlight which
Our souls so curly lose:
The sunlit strenm mny murmer on,
The birds may gayly sing,
But friends we loved have passed away
Among the flowers of spring.
Yet fair and .fragrant to the day
Each bright-eyed flow'ret opes;
They arc not withered like our hearts,
Nor blighted like our hopes;
And then each golden dream of youth
Its long-lost light will bring—
And all is bright, and all is hope,
Among the flowers of spring.
Huntingdon, March, 1852.
ffanitt2 eirtle.
[From the Child's Paper.
Waking Up in the Morning.
When John waked up, there was only a
streak of sunshine on the wall; he watched
it as it kept growing bigger and bigger, un
til it spread almost to the size of the win
dow. "The sun never gets tired of ri
sing," thought he; " it is a good sup."—
Then he heard a robin sing. "The robin
is up early," turning his eyes to the win
dow, he sings very briskly. What makes
him sing so, dear little robin?" Next he
thought what a nice little bed he was in,
and how white the coverlet looked. Then
he caught sight of his new jacket hanging
on a peg in the corner: "That is certainly
a grand new jacket—and there is my own
comb and brush," glancing at the table;
"what.a sweet little brush that is!" He
lay and thought, looking first at ono thing
and then another. "What a pleasant
home have I got," said John almost aloud;
and father and mother, how real good
they are!"
He thought and thought, until his spirit
grew very tender. "And who made the
sun and the robin, and my parents, and
all the things?" This question somehow
or other forced itself very powerfully on
his mind; "Yes, who really did?" It
seemed as if John never saw so much of
God in every thing before. He saw God
all around giving him things. Then his
thoughts turned to the Bible account of
this great and good Being, and how it said
that Ile also "gave his son to die for us."
"And that's because we broke his holy
laws," said John to himself. He wonder
ed how that could be, seeing God was so
good; and yet he saw, as he had never
seen before, that he had not minded wheth
er ho obeyed God or not. am sure I
have been very wicked and ungrateful,
very," thought John: "and yet God did
not cast me off, but sent Jesus Christ to
wash my sins away and make me be what
I ought to be. Only think what a God
tho great God is!" And he felt so sorry
and so ashamed that ho did not know what
to do. Tears rolled down his cheeks, and
he wiped them away with his night-gown
sleeve.
Soon John got up and kneeling down,
bowed his head. Ho had often said his
prayers" before; but it was ditkrent.—
God seemed very, very near, all around
him, and he felt afraid.. He thought of
his sins, of his unthankfulness and neglect
of God's commands. He hardly knew
which way to turn. Then Jesus seemed
to says, "I am the way," and the child
tried from the depth of his heaat to pray,
~F or Christ's sake, forgive my sins."—
And then, as a sense of God's mercy in
giving his Son to die came over him, he
felt thankful as he had never done before,
and resolved that, by the help of the Holy
Spirit, he would trust in Christ and love
and serve him.
It Even the malignancy of man is ren
dered subservient to the general and ulti
mate end of divine providence, which is to
bot. bring all animated beings to happiness.
speech I * -- No one need despair of being hap
tended, his b
less pen have ray.
ulUitto'bott
The Infidelity of Literature.
AN EXTRACT,
It is not from the fictions of the French
novelists, or of their Anglo-Saxon imita
tors—it is not from the writings of. Paul
de Kock, reeking as they do with pollution
—it is not from the scarcely less vicious
pages of Sue, or the vile books of Reynolds
and his degraded school, that the greatest
danger to the cause of Christianity is to be
apprehended. The blow with which these
writers menace its holy institutions and its
sacred principles, is too apparent to be dis
regarded, and is rendered mostly inopera
tive by its plainness of purpose. The con
servatism of this enlightened age and 'coun
try, is too politic, to suffer the beneficent
institution of Christianity to be ruthlessly
assailed, and incontinently destroyed by its
avowed enemies. Society is too vitally in
terested in the existence and perpetuity of
the Christian religion to allow of its sub
version by open hostility. The danger to
be apprehended to the religion of the Bible
from modern Literature, is to be sought for
in a less ostensible, but vastly more dan
gerous and deadly hostility. It is to be
sought for, and it will invariably be found,
—coiled like the serpent in a bed of flow ,
era,—wrapped up in the fair seeming blos
soms which adorn the cultivated gardens
of polite Literature, which in every form,
the poem, the essay, the tale, the lecture—
has been subsidized to sap the foundations
and overthrow the fair fabric of Evangeli
cal Religion, and to erect upon its ruins
the "whited sepulchres" of a gross and
sensuous matirialism,
So extensively is this spirit of refined in
fidelity interfused in the popular writings
of the age, that we take up a new book
with the instinctive apprehension of finding
in its pages, some more or less covert at
tack, either upon the citadel of Christian
Faith, or upon some of its important out
posts. We have not time or space to re
view, in detail, the grounds of this lamen
table conclusion. We wish rather to call
the attention of every Christian reader to
the dangers that threaten his holy faith.
The intellect of intro is ingeniously arraying
itself against the revelation of God. In its
pride, it claims for human nature, such re
lationship to Deity, that, by a native' se
quence, and independently of a 'Divine
atonement, a perfect union must result be
tween them. It asserts that Nature is the
true Revelation. It affects to despise a
system of faith, based upon a record, the
letter of which is perpetually challenged
by new facts, and new hypotheses in Sci
ence—forgetting or disregarding the truth,
that no scientific hypothesis has ever yet
stood the test of time, without shedding
fresh lustre on the divine inspiration of the
Bible. It claims that man is his own Re
deemer—competent to raise himself, by the
instrumentalities of his social and intellec
tual powers, to a companionship with God,
seeking thus to extinguish and blot out, by
its impious hand, the whole doctrine of a
Divine Salvation. These and other kin
dred aims, animate and inspire much of the
modern literature, which 'emanates from
high sources, and is scattered broadcast
over the land, under the specious disguise
of "enlightened speculation," or "earnest
inquiry;" thus taking honest, but simple
minas unawares, and plunging them into
the dark and cheerless depths of a Godless
Rationalism, or a Christless Infidelity.
We plead not for creed or sect, but we
reverence the religion of the Bible, with a
love that is outraged by the materialistic
tendencies of modern literature; and pal
sied be our hand when it is slow to take up
the pen to denounce what eloquent reform
ers call the " New Theology"--but what
we, and every honest heart, must pro
nounce the New Infidelity—of the times."
[Exchange.
Communication.
[For the Journal.]
The commandment which enjoins paren
tal reverence may be justly regarded as
the most important of the Deealogue• ' for
obedience to parents is not merely the first
social duty which devolves upon man; but
the first of all duties—even before obedi
ence to heaven.
The infant mind can comprehend the
claim of parental authority as a visible
power, at au earlier period than it can
re
cognize those of the invisible, Divine Ma
jesty; and in rendering homage to the re
quirements of the former, it is prepared for
submitting its faculties to the guidance of
the latter. The parent on earth is, to the
dawning intellect of the child, the tangible,
comprehensible representative of the Fath
er in heaven. Hence the importance of
the early inculcation, and the proper dis
charge of this duty—the first we owe to
wan—the first to lead our minds by neces
(Airy gradation and association to the love
and obedience of God. if these first du
ties of life be properly observed, the soul
will be strenghtened in virtue, and better
prepared to discharge aright those which
are to follow. But alas ! if the child cast
aside the allegiance he owes to his parents,
tramples alike on the holier instincts of na
ture and the law of God, who shall hope
HUNTINGDON, PA., THURSDAY, JULY 1, 1852.
that his after course will be in obedience
to the teachings of heaven, of virtue, or of
honor? If the stream be thus poisoned at
its scurce what power shall purify its wat
ers in their devious meanderings
We do not mean to say, that children
habitually allowed a licence for filial diso
bedience and irreverence, must, inevitably,
in all cases, make bad men and women,
contentious neighbors, or law-despising ci
tizens. No doubt this evil, like every oth
er, is often over-ruled by a wise and mer
ciful Providence who maketh even “the
wrath of man to praise him." But we do
assert that the spirit of youthful rowdyism
and contempt of public opinion; the early
habits of idleness and profligacy; the pas
sion for debasing pleasures nod vicious in
dulgencies; the unnatural indifference to
home duties and endearments; the unblush
ing desecration of God's day of holy rest,
his temple, and its exercises; together with
all the kindred vices that mark the moral
degeneracy of many portions of our nomi
nally Christian land and nation—are al
most entirely the legitimate fruit of a lax
ity of parental government, a weak, mis
guided, if not criminal indulgence in the
nursery, which draws out the latent germs
of insubordination inherent in our nature,
and forces them into precocious and fearful
development. "Train up a child in the
way he should go, and when he is old lie
will not depart from it," is as true now as
when first recorded by the pen of inspira
tion. Were this truth seriously pondered,
this injunction faith fully obeyed, it would
do more to perpetuate our free institutions
than all the cunningly framed platforms of
politicians, or the importunate prayers of
the Church. Let parents, and patriots,
and especially Christians think on these
things. IRIS
Huntingdon, Juno, 1852.
The Boy and the Brick—A Fable.
A boy hearing his father say, " 'twas
a poor rule that did not work both ways,"
said "if father applies this rule about his
work, I will test it in my play."
So setting up a row of bricks, three or
four inches apart, he tipped over the first,
which, striking the second, caused it to fall
on the third, which overturned the fourth,
and so on through the whole course, until
all the bricks lay prostrate.
"Well," said the boy, each brick knock
ed down his neighbor which stood next to
him; I only tipped one. I will see if rais
in.'° one will rise all the rest.
He looked in vain to see them rise.
"Here father," said the boy, " 'tis a poor
rule 'twill not work both ways. They
knock each other down, but will not raise
each other up."
"My sou" said the father, "bricks and
mankind are alih• made of clay, active in
knocking each other down, but not dispo
sed to help each other up."
"Father said the boy, "does the first
brick represent or resemble Adam ?"
The father replied in, the following,
MORAL.
"When wen fall, they love company;'
but when they rise, they love to stand alone,
like yonder brick, and see others prostrate
and below them. But my son this is con
trary to that Heavenly Charity which we
ought all to possess, and never let it be so•
with you."
Jirtiocellantotto.
March of lmprovemen!--Verses for
the Year 1900. •
Tell John to set the kettle on,
I want to take a drive,
I only want to go to Rome,
And shall be back by five.
Tell cook to dress those humming birds
I shot in Mexico;
The've now beep killed at least two days,
They'll SOOR be no pen haul.
And Tom, take you the gold leaf wings,
And start fur Spain at three;
. I want some Seville oranges
"rwixt dinner time and tea.
Fly round by France, and bring a new
Perpetual-motion gun;
To-morrow, with . some friends, I go
A hunting in the sun.
The trip I took the other day,
To breakfast in the moon,
Thanks to that awkward Lord Bollair,
He spoiled tny now balloon;
For steering through the milky way,
He ran agaiast a star,
And turning round again too soon,
Came jolt against my car.
But, Tom, you got the car repaired,
And then let Dim and Dick
Inflate with ten square miles of gas,
I mean to travel quick.
My steam is surely up by now,
Put tho high-pressure on;
Give me the breath-bag for the way—
All right—hey—whiz—Pro gone
QUESTION FOR DEBATE.-If the milky
way was composed of real cream, how ma
ny cheeses would it make at 8 cents a
pound.
rkebence of Mind.
Very much has been written with re
gard to this important trait of character,
yet adults, as well as children, are contin
ually; in every dangerous emergency,
found • lamentably deficient. Accidents
causing death and destruction of property,
will ever occur; therefore in calm and
tranquil moments we should fortify our
selves for the hour of danger. The story
of "John Raynor" impressed on the mind,
possibly might have restored to life many
children apparently drowned. It was in
the infancy of this Periodical that the ac
' count was given, and a host of our present
readers were not then its patrons, there-
fore I hope to be pardoned for giving a
transcript for publication; especially as it
cannot fail to interest our juvenile friends.
"It was during the summer holidays of
'1800," said Mr. Bowers, "I had a young
friend staying with me and my younger
brother Edward. His name was John
Raynor, and how he cameby so much in
' formation as he seemed to have, I do not
remember that we troubled ourselves to
inquire; but my father who liked John ex
ceedingly, said it was from his constant
habit of observation. Ho was then four
teen, only two years older than myself.—
' One evening, during the absence of my
parents, we occupied ourselves with assis-
Iting our old gardener. The garden slop
ed down to a broad river which joined the
sea at a few miles distance. I was not so
busy but I looked up every now and then
to watch the beautiful sun-set that spark
led on the water, or the passage boats and
country barges that glided by at intervals.
Suddenly I observed, at a small distance,
something floating on the water.
" , It is the body of a boy!' said John,
and in a moment flung off his jacket and
threw himself into the water. Fortunate
ly he was a good swimmer, and his cour
ago never left him. He swam with all his
strength towards the floating body, and
seizing with one band the hair, with the
other lie directed his course back to the
shore. We watched eagerly, and the mo
ment he came within reach assisted him in
laying the body on a grass-plot. My
brother Edward recognised him as the son
of a washerwoman, exclaiming, as he burst
into tears,
" 'Poor woman,' she will never see her
boy again!" John replied, in a hurried
tone,
, She may if we lose no time, and use
the right means to recoter him. Edward,
run duickly for a doctor, and as you pass
the kitchen, tell Susan to have a bed
warmed.
"'We had better hold him up by the
heels,' said the gardener, 'to let the water
run out of his mouth.'
, No, no, no!' exclaimed John; 'by so
doing we shall kill him, if he is not al
ready dead; we must handle him as gently
as possible.'
"When the body had been carried into
the house, the gardener urged John to
place the body near the kitchen fire ; but
after a little persuasion they yielded to
John's entreaty, and the body was rubbed
dry and placed on his right side between.
hot blankets, on a mattress. The head
was , bound with flannel and plaeed high on
pillows; four bottles were filled with hot
water, wrapped in flannels, and placed at
the arm-pits and feet, while the body was
constantly rubbed with hot flannels.—
John then took the , bellows, and having
blown out all the dust, directed me to
close the mouth and one nostril, while he,
by blowing in at the other filled the chest!
with air; he then laid aside the bellows,'
and pressed the chest upwards to force
the air out; this was done from twenty to
thirty times in a minute, to imitate natur
al breathing. All this time the windows
and doors were left wide open. Edward
at length returned without the doctor, he
was absent from home. The use of fric
tion with warm flannel, and artificial
breathing continued for one hour and a
half, and no signs of life appeared. John
continued his efforts. Another half hour
passed, and to the inexpressible delight of
us all, the boy opened his eyes and utter
ed a faint sigh."
What a good thing it was for the moth
er of this poor boy that John Raynor once
read, on a framed printed paper, "Rules
of the Iltnnano Society for recovering
persons apparently drowned." Better
still, that he had taken pains to remember
them. Every item that we can glean,
calculated to benefit the distressed, should
be treasured in memory's garner for the
hour of need.--. Mothers Journal and
Family Visitant.
irr' Ho that would do good to others
without practising self-denial, does but.
dream—the way of philanthropy is over up
hill, and not unfrequently over rugged
rooks and through thorny paths.
r.r.r In one of his letters from St. Thom
as, Mr. Willis says they have cockroaohei,
there 'that have pretentious to be lob-
steers, and spiders, on which ono niiiht
fry a becfstake, mistaking it for a gridi
ron.'
1-9 'sv u °Onrltal
A Story with a Moral.
Mr. Jones, was one of those remarkable
money making men, whose uninterrupted
success in trade had, been the wonder and
afforded the material for the gossip of the
town for seven years. Being of a familiar
turn of mind he was frequently interroga
ted on the subject, invariably gave as the
secret of his success that he minded his
own business.
A gentleman met Mr. Jones on the As
, sanpink bridge. He was gazing intently on
the dashing, forcing waters as they fell over
the dam. He was evidently in a brown
study. Our friend ventured to disturb'his
cogitation.
"Mr. Jones, tell me how to make a thou
sand dollars."
Mr. Jones continued looking intently
at the water. At last he ventured to re
ply,
"Do you see that dam, my friend 1"
"I certainly do."
"Well, here you may learn the secret of
making money. That water would waste
away and be of no use to anybody, but for
the dam. That dam turns it to good ac
count—makes it perform some useful pur
pose, and then suffers it to pass along.—
That large paper mill is kept in constant
motion by this simple economy. Many
mouths are fed in the manufacture of the
article of paper, and intelligence is scatter
,ed broad-cast over the land on the sheets
that aro daily turned out, and in the differ
' ent processes through which it passes, mon
ey is made. So it is in the living of hundreds
of people. They get enough money. It
passes through their hands every day, and
at the year's end they are no better off.—
What's the reason ? They want a dam.—
Their expenditures are increasing, and no
practical good is attained. They want
them dammed up, so that nothing will pass
through their hands without bringing some
thing back—without accomplishing some
useful purpose. Dam up your expenses,
and you'll soon have enough occasionally
I to spare a little, just like that dam. Look
lat it, my friend !".—Trenton true .9meri
can.
Fruits of Earley Rising.
The preface to the last volume of Rev. Mr.
Barnes' 'Notes' which has just appeared,
mentions a fact which is worthy of being
remembered by those who are accustomed
to excuse themselves from the . performauce
of any great and useful work• for the "want
of time." Dr. Barnes has published in
all sixteen volumes of biblical "Notes,"
during the composition of which he had•
charge of a large congregation in Phila
delphia; and yet he has not suffered his
1 1 authorial labors to infringe upon the duties
of the pastoral office. These sixteen vol
umes, he informs us, "have all been writ
ten before nine o'clock in the morning, and
are the fruits of the habit of rising between
four and five o'clock."
From the first he has made it an invari
able rule to cease writing at precisely nine
o'clock; and now he finds his formidable
task accomplished, and has the satisfac
tion of knowing that he has been permitted
to send forth more than 250,000 pages of
commentary on the New Testament, and
that probably a great number has been ac
complished abroad. All this has been ac
complished in hours which the majority
of men spend in bed, in idle listlessness,
or in getting ready for the labors of the
day.—..hew England Farmer.
Anecdote of William Wirt of Va.
In the early career of Mr. Wirt ho was
addicted to intemperate habits, and was, as
every friend supposed, a very hopeless ir
reclaimable man. He was abandoned by
almost every friend, and wits so reduced
that his presence wag objbctionable in the'
meanest establishment where rum was sold.
On one occasion ho had become so grossly
intoxicated that lie fell. upon the floor of a
rum hole insensible'. The' proprietor very
coolly dragged him out of the place and
laid him in full length on the edge of the
sidewalk. It was in the city of Richmond,
Va. Tho day was excessively warm, and
the rays of the sun fell exactly upon the
inebriate, who was totally unconscious of
his situation. A young lady was passing
the spot, and on noticing the exposed fea
tures of Mr. Wirt, stopped, spread her
handkerchief over his face and passed on.
When he became partially sensible of his
situation, a few hours afterward, he dis
covered the handkerchief and the initials
upon it made him aware to whom it be
longed. That kind act made. a reformed
man, for ho found that there was one living
being that was interested in his fate. In
after years, when Mr. Wirt had risen to
an eminent position and was a candidate for
the Presidency of the United States, we
met him and his gifted lady (the identical
young woman who managed the handker
chief business when Mr. Wirt was iu the
"grog" trade. ) She never regretted her
.ehoice and Mr. Wirt never drank more.—
N. I'. Picayune.
11 Health is getting to be vulgar, and
is confined principally to the servant girls.
NUMBER 26.
ADVICE TO A LAWYER. • —The follow
ing is the advice of an examining judge
to a lawyer on admission :
"Sir, it would be idle to trouble you
further. You are perfect, and I will dis
miss you with a. few words of advice
which you will do well to follow. You
will find it laid down as se maxim of civil
law never to kiss the maid when you can
kiss the mistress. Carry out the principle,
and you are safe. Never say boo to a
goose when she has the power to lay gold
en eggs. Let your face be long and your
bills longer. Never put your hand in your
pocket when any one else's is handy.—
Keep your conscience for your own pri
vate use, and don't trouble it with other
men's matters. Please the judge and but
ter the jury.. Look wiser than an owl,
and be as ocular as an hour clock, and
above all, get money. I welcome you to
the bar."
The real Christian
The real Christian is the only prudent
man. He has laid up in store for the win
ter of the grave. He looks through the
future, and provides for it all. He sees the
evils that are before him, and from all of
them hides himself in Christ. He is
_pre
pared to die, to be judged, and to be glori
fied. The presence of Christ upon him at
the judgment, and the spirit of Christ is
sanctifying him for glory. He' may have
no treasure on earth; and no matter if lie
has or not, he is only passing rapidly over'
it—and if he had, he could not take it with
him :-but iu Heaven, his home, be , has u
treasure; it is where he is to be—where he
will want it-where he can use it. This
is the prudent man; mark him. Imitate
him.
A VALUABLE BANK BlLL.—What would
be the sensation of an individual accustom--
ed to handling oue dollar relief notes, to
receive a bank bill for one million sterling?
The Bank of England, it appears, issued
four votes of that denomination, and after
these four were engraved, the plates were
destroyed.. Of these impressions the Roths
child have one, the late Mr. Cuotts had
another, the Bank of England, the third,
and Mr Samuel Rodgers, the poet and
banker, now decorates his parlor with the
fourth, suspended in a gold frame.•
ASTONISHING LCCli•—The New York
Day Book tells the following singular
story of luck in a lottery:
A man somewhat given to superstition,
dreamed on Saturday night that he saw
an omnibus up Greenwich street, con
taining passengers. ; and drawn by six hor
ses, each animal having six legs. Upon
walking out of bed, he made a note of the
figures 4,6, 36. On Monday he spent
several hours searching after a lottery
ticket, with. the numbers , 4, 6 36, upon it.
Finding one at last, he paid $2O for it,
12 per cent off. On Tuesday, strange to
relate, the ticket drew—a blank.
GOOD ADVICE.-It is better to tread'
the path of life cheerfully, skipping over the
thorns and briars that obstruct the way,—
than to set down under every hedge lament
ing our hard fate. The thread of a cheer
ful man's life spine out longer than that
of a man's who is constantly sad and dis
ponding. Prudent conduct intheconcerns
of life is highly necessary—but if distress
succeed, dejection and dispair will not . af
ford relief. The best thing to be' done
when evil comes upon us, is not lamention,_
but action; not to sit and suffer, but to seek
the remedy,
A DELICACY FOIL TILE
paragus is just now in its perfection, and•
the following receipt to prepare it for the
table, with baked eggs, is seasonable.—
Cut twenty heads of asparagus into small
pieces, boil them fifteen minutes, put them
rnto a stew-pan with half an ounce of but
ter, set them on the fire for three minutes,
season with a little pepper, salt and sugar:
when done, put them in the dish you wish
to servo them in, break six eggs carefuly
over, sprinkle salt and pepper over, and
put the dish in the oven till the eggs am
set.
LORD BYRON ON CLEAN HANDS.--la
an amusing letter to a friend at Paris, in
1817, his lordship said "I am no great
phrenologist, Pauline, nor do I pretend
to read mankind as quickly as yourself
but if a stranger comes in, I generally look
at the state of his hands. To a gentleman
dirty hands are an abomination—that set
tles one point. A respectable man never
presents himself with dirty hands and full
nails: so if I find my customer with these
credentials I conclude that he is an idler,•
a drunkard, or a scamp, and I show him
out as soon as possible."
It," Excess of ceremony shows want of
good breeding; that civility is better, which
excludes all superfluous formality.
G:r Wherever you find newspapers, them
you will find intelligence.