( 616 e) ,aAlnifingbi,rg VOLUME XVII. TERMS OF PUBLICATION: THE "Ilurrribtovox JOURNAL" is published at the following rates, viz : If paid in advance, per annum, $1,50 If paid during the year, 1,75 If paid after the expiration of the year,• 2,50 To Clubs of five or more, in advance,. • 1,25 Tux above Terms kill he 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. THE PLEDGE, BT JOHN PIERPONT. Thou sparkling bowl! thou sparkling bowl! Though lips of bards thy brim may press, And eyes of beauty o'er thee roll, And song and dunce thy power confess. I will not touch thee, for there clings A scorpion to thy side that stings ! Thou chrystal glass ! like Eden's tree, Thy melted ruby tempts the eye, And as from that, there came from thee The voice, 'Thou shalt not surely die!' I dare not lift thy liquid gem— A snake is twisted round thy stem ! Thou liquid lire ! like that which glowed For Paul upon Melita's shore, Thou'st been upon my guests bestowed; But thou shalt warns say house ISO snore, For, wheresu'er thy radiance slab, Furth from thy heart, a Viper crawls! What, though of gold the goblet be, Embossed with branches of the vine, Beneath whose burnished leaven we see Such eltvters as poured out the wine Among those leaves tut adder hangs, I fgar him—for Pre felt his Tanga. The Hebrew, who the desert trod, And felt the fiery serpent's bite, Looked up to the (attained of God,• And found that litb wus in the sight So the wuum-bitteit's fiery veins Cool when he drinks what God ordains. Ye gracious clouds ! ye deep cold wells ! Ye gems, from mussy rocks, that drip Springs from earth',' mysterious cells, Gush o'er your granite basin's lip ! To you I look,—your largess give, And I will drink of you, nud live Written for the Journal. FBA C :11EN'r. Hy HOMACII W. SMITH, Weeping ill this world we come, While all around us smile, Rejoicing in another soul, To share their worldly toil. Then let us live so that in death, Around us all shall weep, And we can welcome with a smile Our sweet eternal sleep. nntingdun, July, 1852. fflaintiß eirclr. The Daughter. The early education of the daughter ought to be deeper, clearer, sounder, more extensive and thorough than the education of the son; because the daughter, early in life, becomes a wife and a mother; retires from the world to her own peculiar empire. The son, if not thoroughly educated for hM calling, at first, is compelled by circum stances, by the world all around him—by rivals in business—by his own shame and emulation, to educate himself. Indeed, he is always learning something, either by good or bad luck, useful for him to know. It is not so with the daughter, who must learn in early life or never learn. De a woman over so wealthy, in this country, she must know how to cook her food, to wash and iron her clothes and those of her fatuity, to nurse her children and teach her daughters to do tho same. If she have servants they may be ignorant, lazy and worthless; and there may be times when no servants can be procured. She may be too poor to hire servants. So that every house-keeper must know all these arts of house-keeping. Parental Teaching. If parents would not trust a child upon the back of a wild horse without bit or bri dle, lot them not permit him to go unskill ed in self-government. If a child is pas sionate, teach him, by gentle means, to curb his temper. If he is greedy, cultivate liberality in hint. If he is selfish, promote generosity. If he is sulky, charm him out of it by frankness and good humor. If ho is indolent, accustom him to exertion and train him so as to perform even onerous duties with alacrity. It pride comes in to make his obedience reluctant, subdue him by counsel or discipline. In short, give your children the habit of overcoming their besetting sins. Let them acquire experience that confidence in themselves which gives security to the practised horse man, oven on the back of a high strung steed, and they will triumph over the dif ficulties and dangers that beset them to the path of life. Character of Paul. BY T. D. lIEADLEY Paul, in his natural character, before his conversion, resembles Bonaparte more than any other man—l mean both in his intellectual develbpments and energy of will. He had the same inflexibility of pur pose, the same utter indifference to human suffering when he had once determined on his eourse; the same tireless, unconquera ble resolution; the same fearlessness, both of man's power and opinions; and that calm self-reliance and mysterious control over others. But the. point of greatest resem blance is in the union of a strong, correct judgment, with rapidity of thought, and sudden impulse. They thought quicker, yet better than any other men. The pow er, too, they possessed, was all practical power, There are many men of strong minds, whose force nevertheless, wastes in reflection or iu theories for others to act upon. Thought may work out into lan guage, but not into action. They will plan better than they can perform. But these men not only thought better, bat they could work better than other men. The same perfect self-control and per fect subjection of his emotions—even ter ror itself--to the mandates of Lis will, are exhibited in his conduct when smitten to. the earth, and blinded by the light of Heaven. John when arrested by the same voice, on the Isle of Patmos, fell on his face as a dead man, and dared not stir et speak until encouraged by the lan guage, "Pear not." But Paul (or Saul,y though a persecutor, and violent man, showed no symptoms of alarm or terror.— The voice, the blow, the light, the glory, and the darkness that followed, were suffi cient to upset the strongest mind; but he, master of himself and his emotions, instead of giving way to exclamations of terror, he simply stiid:r. Lord, what wilt thou have me do V' 'With his reason and judgment as steady and strong as ever, he knew at once that ,something was wanted of hits, and ever ready to act, he asked what it was. Prom this time on, his track can be dis tinguished by the commotion about it, and the light above it. Straight back to jeru salem, front whence he had so recently come with letters to legalize his perse cutions, he went to cast to his lot with those ho had followed with vio lence and slaughter. His etroug heart never beat one quicker pulsation through fear, when the lofty turrets of the proud city dashed on his vision. Neither did he steal away to the dark alleys, and streets, where the diciples were concealed, and tell them secretly his faith in the Son of God. He strode into the synagogues and before the astonished priests preached Christ and him crucified. He thundered at the door ' of the Sanhedrin itself, and shaking Jeru salem like an earthquake, awoke a tempest of rage and fury on himself. With assas sins dogging his footsteps, be at length !eft the city, But instead of going to places where he was unknown and where his feelings -would be less tried, be started for his native city, his father's house, the home of his boy hood, for his kindred and friends. To en treaties, tears, scorn, and violence, he was alike impervious. To Antioch and Cy prus, along the cost of Syria to Bowe, over the known world, he wont like a bla zing comet, waking up the nations of the earth. From the top of Mar's Hill, with the gorgeou; city at his feet, and the Acropolis and Parthenon behind him—on 1 the deck of his shattered vessel in the in tervals of the crash of billows, in the gloomy walla of a prison, on the borders of the eternal kingdom, lie speaks in the same calm and determined tone. Deter• red by no daitger, awed by no presence, and shrinking from no responsibility, he moves before us like some grand embodi ment of power. The nations heave around bhp, and kings turn pale in his presence. Bands of conspirators swear neither to eat or drink until they have slain hint; rulers and priests combine against him, and people stone him; yet over the din of the conflict and storm of violence his voice of eloquence rises clear and distinct as trumpet call, as he still preaches Christ and him crucified. The whip is laid on his back till the blood starts with every blow, and then his mangled body is thrown into a dungeon; but at midnight you hear that same calm,. 'strong voice which has shaken the world, poured forth in a hymn of praise to God, and le! an earthquake rocks the prison to its foundations; the manacles fall off the hands of the captives; the bolts withdraw themselves, and the massive doors swing back on their hinges. One cannot point to a single spot in his cireer, where he faltered a moment, and gave way to discouragement or fear.— Thro' all his perilous life he exhibited the same intrepidity of character and lofty spirit. With his . eyes fixed on regions beyond the ken of ordinary mortals, and kindling upon glories it was not per- Juitted'him to reveal, he pressed forward HUNTINGDON, PA., THURSDAY, JULY 15, 1852. to an incorruptible crown, a fadeless king dom. And then his death—how indiscri bably sublime! Napoleon, dying in the midst of a midnight storm; with the last words that fell from his lips a battle cry, and his passing spirit watching in his deli rium, the totn heads of his mighty dol. mutts, as they disappeared in the smoke of the conflict, is a sight that awes and start les one. But behold Paul also, a worn out voter an, battered with many a scar, though iu a spiritual warfare, looking not on earth, but to Heaven. Here his calm, serene voice ringing over the storms and comma dons of his life: "I am now ready to be offered, and the time of my departure is at hand. I have fought a good fight. I have finished my course, there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness.' No shouts of foemen, nor smoke, or carnage of battle, • surrounding his spirit struggling to be free, but troops of shining angels the smile of God, and the sunk . ; of the redeemed, these guarded him and wel comed him home. filtoccitrincotto. New Mexico--Disorganized State of the Territory SANTA STEW MEXICO, April 25. Dear Sir:—The tale is told—the secret is solved. The great effort to make free American citizens of the Mexicans has ex ploded. The Civil Government is at an end, and but for the military force station ed here all would be in anarchy. Previous to the arrival of Col. Sumner, the military commandant of this department, as you arc aware, the troops were stationed within the towns, and up to that time no considerable demonstration since the war hind been made against the Civil Government. Col. 'Sum ner in accordance with the views of the administration, and better to secure On:: country horn Indian depredations, changed the posts and placed a largo portion of the . Troops in the Indian country. This was seized on by the Mexicans as a fit time to disregard the civil authorities and put at naught all law and order. Disaffection,_ and a determination to resist every thing American became apparent. • . The American citizens became alarmed and the greatest excitement prevailed, particularly at this place. In this condi tion, of things, Gov. Calhoun properly feel ing himself wholly unable to administer the Government without military s aid, call ed on Col. Sumner, who promptly repair ed to the city, and finding au entire aban donment of alrlaw and order, and a dan gerous disregard by many of the inhabi tants of all principles of right,. and an ina bility of the civil authorities to maintain the peace, ordered in a strong company of Infantry; in addition to the company of, Artillery then here, established au ace tive military police to aid the civil authori ties, and placed out strong guards, which have, for the time being, restored quiet, and to some extent contidenne f thwt with this and the Civil Government may be maintained. Enclosed I send you to card, signed' by Gov. Calhoun and Col. Sumner, which possibly indicates the course necessary to be pursued by Col. Sumner hereafter.— His alacrity m repairint , to this place, at the request of the Uoycrnor, and the promptness and success of his measures in securing quiet and safety to the people, is deeply felt by oull'American inhabitants. Some may suppose that this condition has beets brought about by some actual or sup posed mal-administration of the Govern ment, and that as iu discontents m the States, a little time and a proper care ice those who administer the Civil Govern ment, will restore a proper condition of things. To those who may thus think, it is time to say that they are mistaken. All that has been done here in arresting the operations of the Civil Governnmt, is justly attributable to the enmity and pre judice of the Mexicans against us, and a firs determination on their part to throw off our Government. Since the establishment of a Territorial Government fur New Mexico, every Mexi can influence has been cast against its succesful operations. Murders have been committed on American citizens, and the Grand Jury has failed to present indict ' ments. The last Legislature wholly failed to aUthorise a tax sufficient to prosecute criminals, and Governor Calhoun was com pelled to turn at large, some forty thieves, cut-throats and robbers from the jail, iu this place, for the waist of means to sup port them in prison. In a word, Congress musty if she would sustain her dignity and protect American citizens, adopt some other system for governing this country. The Territorial scheme has emphatically failed, and will continue to do so until the Mexi cans shall have bcoome a snore learned and civilized people.—Cor: 81.. Louis Rep. Cow A GREAT vA .. LF.— ow b elong i ng to Jaeob Hartman, of Windsor Berks county, gave birth to a calf, a week or so ago, weighing 150 pounds' Tact and Talent. Talent is something, but tact is every thing. Talent is serious, sober, grave and respectable; tact is all that, and more too. It is not a seventh sense,but it is the life of all the five. It is the open eye, the quick ear, the judging taste, the keen smell 'and tho' lively touch; the iuterperter of all riddles, the surmounter of all difficulties, the remover of alt obstacles. It is useful in. all places ' and at all times. It is use ful in solitude, for it shows a man his way into the world; it is useful in society, for it shows him his way /hi'ough the' world.— Talent is power;! tact is skill. Talent is weight; tact is momentum. Talent knows 'what to do, and tact knows just how to do it. Talent, makes 0 man respectable; tact 1 1 will make him respected. Talent is wealth;. tact is ready money. For the practical purposes of life, tact carries it against tal ! cut ten to one, There is no want of dra matic tact or talent, but they are seldom together; so we have successful pieces which are not respectable, and respectable pieces which are not successful. Take them to the bar and let them shake their learned heads at each other-in legal rival ry. Talent sees its way clearly; but tact is first at the journey's end. Talent has many a compliment from- the bench, but tact • touches fees from attorneys and cli ents. Talent speaks learnedly and logical ly; tact speaks triumphantly. Talent makes the world wonder that it gets along no fas ter; tact excites astonishment that it should get along so fast. The secret is, it has no weight to carry; it makes no false steps; it hits the right nail on the head; it loses no time; it takes all hints, and, by keeping its 0)0 on the weathercock, is ready to take advantage against any wind that may blow. . . Take - thenl into the church : Talent has always something worth hearing; tact is I sure of abundance of hearers. Talent may obtain a living; tact will make one. Tal ent gets a good name; tact gets a great one. Talent convinces; tact converts.— Talent is an honor to the profession; tact gains honor for it. Take th , An to court : Talent feels its way; tact males his way, Talent com mands: tart is obeyed. Talent is honored with approbation; tact is blessed whit pre ferment. Place them in the senate: Talent has the car of the house; but tact wins its heart, and gains its vote. Talent is fit for employment; but tact is fitted for it. it has a knack of slipping into place with a fit silence and glibness of UM uncut, as a billiard ball insinuates itself into the pock et. It seems to know everything without learning anything. It has learned a visi ble and extemporary apprenticeship. It wants no drilling, it never ranks in the awkward squad. It has no left hand, no deaf ear, no blind side. It puts on looks of wondrous wisdom; it has no air of pro fundity; but plays with the details of place,' as dextrously as a well taught hand flour ishes over the keys of a piano-forte. It has all the air of common-place, and all the force and power of genius. It can change sides with a key-presto inoveinent, and be at all points of , the compass white talent is pundruusly and learnedly shifting a single point. Talent calculates clearly, reasons logically, and utters its oracles with all the weight of justice and reason. Tact refutes without contradicting, punks - the profound without profundity, and with out wit, outwits the wise. Set them on a race fur popularity, pen iu hand : Talent brings to market timt which is needed; tact produces that which is wished for. Talent instructs; tact en lightens. Talent leads whore no one fol lows; tact leads where humor follows.— Talent is pleased that it ought to have suc ceeded; tact is pleased that it has succeed ed. Talent toils for posterity which will never repay it, but tact catches the pas sion of the passing hour. Talent builds fur eternity; tact on to short lease, and gets good interest. Talent is a line thing to talk about, and be proud of; but taut is useful, portable, always alive, and always marketable. It is the talent of talents, the availatleness of resources, the applica bility of power, the eye of disorhuination f the ri g ht hand of intellect.—London A Goon 11,Erota.—At a dancing party, one ut the beaux got a little corned: 11e of course felt himself as goad us anybody. Asking a lady who lives in the vicinity of a grist-mill to dance, she declined; where upon he instituted a parley remarking, "that if he was not good enough to dance with her, he would come down to the mill and be ground over."—"Come down," said the lady, "but you will recollect that the first process in grinding will be to run you through the semi machine!" lt is useless to look for a higher state of prosperity in future, if the present be not occupied iu laying the foundation of it. Many cling to a distant hope, and re ject a progressive certainty. The man who gets through the world without a kick, may rest assured that he is cousidered net worth t ip 1 , 4 1 IA A 4-4,A r V „Au Editing a Paper. Many people estimate the ability of a ' newspaper, and the industry and talents of the editor, by the amount of editorial mat ter it contains. This is a mikake. It is a comparatively easy task for a frothy wri ter to pour out columns of words—words upon any and all subjects, or even without any definite subject. his ideas may flow iu one endless flood, and his command of language may enable him to string them them together like bunches of onions; and yet his paper may be a meagre, poor, con temptible concern. And• what is the toil of such a man, displaying largely his lead ed matters compared to that imposed on a judicious, nell.informed editor, who exer cises his vocation with xis hourly consci ousness of his responsibilities and duties, and devotes' hinrsef to the conduct of his paper with the same care and assiduity that a sensible lawyer bestows upon a suit; et a humane physician upon a patient, without regard . to show or display t Indeed, the writing part of 'editing a paper' is but a small portiod of the work. Of this any • one may be fully convinced by a month's experience. The care, the time employed in selecting, is far more important, and the tact of a good editor is better known by hie selections than by any thing else. Al: editor ought therefore to be estimated, and his labors understood and appreciated, l the general conduct of his paper —its tone, its tempers its uniform, consistent course; its principles and aims, its manliness, its dignity and propriety. To preserve all these as they should be preserved, is to occupy fully the time and attention of any man. If to this be added the general su pervision of the establishment, which most editors have to encounter,' the oirly wonder le e how they firld time to write at all. But if a considerable portion of an editor's mis cellaneous duties be neglected, or left to chance, there need be no marvel about the amount and variety of his editorial—it is just as easy in write as to talk only a lit tle more tardy' A Sensible Landlord: The Frankford (Pa.,) Herald is responsi ' We for the following:— , little incident transpired sonic weeks since in one dour Frankford hotels, which, under the pfcsent Temperance, excitement, is not unworthy of notice. The names of the parties we shall withhold from the pub lic for shame sake. A little girl entered the tavern, and in pitiful tones told the keeper that her u►oth er had sent her there to get eight cents. 'Eight cents,' replied -the tavern-keep er. 'What does your soother want with eight cents? Ido not owe her anything.' , Well,' said the child, 'father spends all his money here for room, and we have noth ing to eat to-day: Mother wants to buy a loaf of bread.' A loafer remarked to the tavern-keeper ; 'kick out the brat.' 'Nu,' said the keeper, I will give her the money, nil if the father comes here again, I'll kick him out.' llow Ismoo is PumumtEn.—The indi go is a shrub-like plant, two or three foot high, with delicate blue green leaves, which, at the harvest time, about the mouth of August, are•eut off close to the stem, tied into bundles, and laid iu green wooden tubs. Planks are then laid on them, and great stones to cause a pressure, and thou water is poured over them, and after a day or two the liquor begins to ferment. In this process of fermentation lies the priu ,iplo difficulty, and everything depends on allowing it to continue just the proper time. When the water has acquired a dark green color, it is poured off into other • tubs; mixed with lime, and stirred 'with wooden shovels till a blue deposit sepwr. , aces itself from the water, which is thou al lowed to run off: The remaining substance, the indigo, is then put into linen bags, through which the moisture filters; and as soon as the indigo is dry and hard, it is broken iuto pieces and packed up. indigo is cultivated iu the East Indies to Coon siderable extent. Cr A man , who spends only 6} cents per day tar intoxicating drinks, pays out in the end of the year $2.2 Sli. The sum would rather more than defray the annual charge of a policy of insurance on his life for $1,300, beginning at twenty-one. And still, how many of that and adjacent ages prefer squandering their loose change at death insurance offices! Never ask the age of an unmarried lady' after she is past five and twenty. NUMBER 28. 34ricatitura1. S uperlic a I Fannin*. A prominent Call:, of small profits and poor success in many of our farmers, is the parsimonious application of capital, in manures, implettguts f physical force, and • convenient buildings. In their eagerness to save at the tap, they waste freely at the bung. , They remind us of the cultiva tor who candidly admitted his unprofitable system of farming; "but," said lie, ant not yet rich enough to be ecotnical." We observe by a late number of the Mork Lane Express, that the present medium Clititnate in ingland, of the capital re quired to carry on the business of it farm, is .£8 (about 40 dollars) per acre, "and no prudent man ought to rent more than he has that amount,. at least, of available capital to go on with; or a smaller posses. Sion, with ample means to marine it, will yield better returns than a large quantity of land inadequately stocked." Now, some of our best farms. can be beughl tot about fhe same' gum that the English farms aro rented, and if the above remark is ap plied to porehasibg c instead of renting it will constitute excellent advice to Ameri cans. This is a subject fora. large vol. um; and we have only space now to say, that if the land owner has not suitable buildings, the value of the grain and fod der wasted in consequence, would soon pay for them, and the food and flesh was‘ ted by exposed shivering animals would , soon pay for them a second time. The want of manure will prevnt the value of crops from rising hither than the cost of cultiva ting theim and the want of heavy crops, to feed animals ; will prellude keeping enough , to make plenty of mature. In other words,, a poor and badly cultivated farm will react, and only support a poor and badly-fed. race of animals and son, just in the saute way that a fertile and thoroughly tilled piece of land will sustain animals enough to' manure it and keep up its fertility, and men enough to give it thorough tillage.--= .illbany Cultivator. ~ii~► Farmers, be Provident, They I& would thrive by any calling, must learn to improve their time properly, and do everything in its proper season. It is idle to expect a man to be a thrifty far mer who habitually neglects to do what may be requited of him xt its proper time, and who acts without any definite system, !the mere creature of circumstances. Ma ny;We are aware, aro-really ignorant of the' proper time to perform certain kinds of la bor, and are so improvident and thought- - less that nothing is accomplished to any good purpose. It is not au unusual thing to see those of whom we might reasonably expect better things, noglectingevettworks of necessity, until such times as are most difficult to perform them. It is indeed but a short thee since we passed the residence of a luau who has•soniething of au amount of property in his - possession s A,Kom we ob served iii the act of preparing fuel for his immediate useffrom semegreen logs which he had hauled to his door but a day oLtwo previous. A shOe load was all that *As' to be seen foe the summer's supply, al though the winter was tar spent, and the snow had well nigh departed. Now this luau was certainly an improvident farmer: lle was burdening his summer's labors with work which should have been per- , formed during the wiuter months. But he is not alone. !Mere are thousands of families in this state, as well as ht other parts of our country, who are in a like pre dicament. Such surely neglect the duties they owe' to their profession, the' noblest God has granted man to pursue: We in stance this as only a single came. There• are a thousand other ways in which improv idence is manifested. It is impossible to lay down any rule which shall be applica ble to all individual cases, further than is embraced in the general one, "to do all things in- due season," but we may safely advise every one to use his thinking as well as his c.)rporeal powers, and to ha- . prove his leisure hours in forming plans' for action. Well directed (Alerts accom plish vastly more than those performed without design. Learn to perform every work in its due season, and to anticipate all such duties as can well be anticipated. Vast improvements in agriculture over the' old methods, are daily becoming known, and , the provident farmer, will net fail to in-' form himself of them. Labor saving in- , struments are annually added to the im plements of the agriculturist, a knowledge and- use of which may save to every bus- bondman four fold their oust. Irr If we only luved uur friends as well' before they die as we do afterwards, what a beautiful world thiii Would be. For soft. , ening the heart, an hour's stroll in a grave' yard is worth all the sermons that were ever preached. “Cuffee, is that the second boll?” "No, Massa, dat's de second ringing' ob. do fuss bell. We hab'nt got no second. boll iu die ere hotel."