Huntingdon journal. (Huntingdon, Pa.) 1843-1859, July 15, 1852, Image 1

Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page. It is also available as plain text as well as XML.

    ( 616
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.
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.
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
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.
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
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
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.
New Mexico--Disorganized State of
the Territory
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
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
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.
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
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
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
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.
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.
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."