Huntingdon journal. (Huntingdon, Pa.) 1843-1859, July 29, 1852, Image 1

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the publisher.
From the dark ntul troubled surges,
Of the ronring eta of time,
Evermore a word emerges,
Solemn, beautiful, sublime.
So, of old, from Grecian water,
'Mid the music and the balm,
Ewe the dead Olympian daughter,
Floating on the azure calm.
Evermore the worlds aro fading,
Evermore the worlds will bloom,
To refute our weak upbraiding,
To throw brightness on the gloom
Ever the imperfect passes,
But the perfect ever grows;
Forests sink to drear Morasses,
Fairer landscapes to disclose.
All the beauty, all the splendor,
Of the ancient earth and sky—
Graceful form and persons tender,
All have passed in silence by.
Man the fairest. Man the youngest,
Man, the darling of the Gods,
With the weakest, with the strongest,
Travels to the still abodes.
All his brothers, unlamenting,
To the eternal plan conform,
Fall unquailing, unrepenting,
In the calm and in the storm.
Nan, too, with a quiet bearing,
With brave heart and steadfast eye,
Undisturbed and undcspairing,
Yes, with noble joy, must die
Ilas he shared what nature proffered ?
Gladly taken what she gave 7
Now the ono last gift is offered—
Let hint take that gift—the grave !
With a grand renunciation
Let him leave to earth and sun ;
For another generation
All the good that lie bath done.
Knowing that the laws eternal
• Never, never can deceive;
Raised above the sphere diurnal,
And too noble, fur, to grieve,
Glad that he has been the agent
Of the mtiv,rsal heart,
That, in life's majestic pageant,
Ile has played no worthless part.
So a great and holy feeling
Shall sustain his human soul,
And, a silent strength revealing,
Shall the part re-seek the whole.
It shall change, but shall not perish,
Now in life and now in death,
For what most we love and cherish
Dies to breathe a nobler breath.
jautitg Cyclic.
Laws of Health.
Children should be taught to use the
left hand as well as the right.
Coarse bread is much bettor for children
than fine.
Children should sleep in separate beds
and should not wear nightcaps.
Children, under seven years, should not
be confined over six or seven hours in the
house, and that time should bo broken by
frequent recesses.
Children and young people must be made
to hold their beads up and their shoulders
back, while sitting, standing or walking.
The best beds for children are of hair,
in winter, of hair and cotton.
Young persons should walk at least two
hours a day in the open air.
Young ladies should be prevented from
banding the chest.
We have known throe eases of insanity
terminating in death, which began in tight
Sleeping rooms should have a fire place,
or some mode of ventilation besides the
Every person, great and small, should
wash all over in cold water every morning.
But frequent and protracted bathing in
cold water can not generally be indulged
in without injury.
The more clothing we wear, other things
being equal, the less food we need.
From ono to one pound and a half of
solid food is sufficient for a person in the
ordinary vocation of business.
Persons in sedentary employment should
drop one-third of their food, and they will
escape dyspepsia.
Young people and others can not study
much by lamp light with impunity.
The best remedy for eyes, weakened by
night use, is a fine stream of cold water
frequently applied to them.
Woman's Grave.
We can pass by the tomb of a man with
somewhat of a calm indifference; but when
we survey the grave of a female, a sigh in
voluntarily escapes us. With the holy
name of woman, we associate every soft,
tender and delicate affection. We think
of her as the young and bashful virgin,
with eyes sparkling and cheeks crimsoned
with each impassioned feeling of the heart;
and the kind and affectionate wife, absor
bed in the exercise of her domestic duties;
as the chaste and virtuous matron, tried
with the follies of the world, and preparing
for the grave to which she must soon de
scend. Oh! there is something in contem
plating the character of a women, that
raises the soul far above the level of socie
ty. She is formed to adorn and humanize
mankind, to soothe his cares and strew his
path with flowers. In the hour of distress,
she is the rock on which he leans for sup
port, and when fate calls him from exis
tence her tears bedew his grave. Can we
look down upon her tomb without emotion?
Man has always justice done to his memory;
woman never. The pages of history lie
open to the one but the meek and unob
, trusive, excessive excellencies of the other
sleep with her unnoticed in the grave. In
her many have shown the genius of a poet
with the virtues of a saint. She, too, may
have passed along the sterile path of her
existence, and felt for others as we now
feel for her.
The Great Element of Civilization.
We speak of our civilization, our free
dom, our laws—and forget entirely bow
large a share is due to Christianity. Blot
Christianity out of man's history, and what
would his laws have been, what his civili
sation'? Christianity is mixed up with our
very being and our very life. ' there is not
a familiar object around us, which does not
wear a different aspect, because the light
of Christian love is upon it; not a law which
does not owe its truth and gentleness to
Christianity; not a custom which cannot be
traced in all its holy, beautiful parts to the
Gospel. Education, to be permanent and
true in its influence, must partake largely
of Christianity as an element—and our in
stitutions to be abiding and trustworthy,
and to work out all the good beginnings
and just expectations of our fathers, must
be leavened with the Christian element of
It is not your dress ladies, your expen
sive shawl or golden fingers that attract
the attention of the men of sense—they
look beyond these. It is your character
they study. If you are trifling and loose
in your conversation—no matter if you are
as beautiful as an angel, you have no at
tractions for them. It is the loveliness of
nature that wins and continues to retain
the affections of the heart. Young ladies
sadly miss it who labor to improve their
outward looks, while they bestow not a
thought on their minds. Fools may be
won by gewgaws, and fashionable showy
dress; but the wise and substantial are nev
er caught by such traps. Let modesty be
your dress. Use pleasant and agreeable
language, and though you may not be cour
ted by the fop, the good and the truly
great will love to linger in your steps.
Moments of Melody.
I remember once strolling along the
margin of a stream in one of those low, shel
tered valleys on Salisbury Plain, where
the monks of former ages have planted
chapels and built hermits' cells. There
was a little parish church near, but tall
elms and quivering alders hid it from the
sight, when, all on a sudden, I was start
led by the sound of the full organ pealing
on the ear, accompanied by rustic voices,
and the willing choir of village maids and
children. It rose, indeed, "Like an ex
halation of rich distilled perfumes," The
dews from a thousand pastures were gath
ered in its softness; the silence of a thou
sand years spoke iu it. It came upon the
heart like the calm beauty of death; fancy
naught the sound and faith mounted it to
the skies. It filled ti valley like a mist,
and still poured out its endless chant, and
still it swells upon the oar, and wraps me
in a golden trance, drowning the noisy tu
mult of the world.
ALL IS VANITY !-It is worth while for
the wordly ambitious to ponder on these
words of Henry Clay :— ,, There is nothing
in honor, or fame, or worldly fortune which
is not vanity when the time of our death
approaches—nothing real—nothing sub
stantial—nothing worth having, but the
hope of God's pardon, and the consolation
of his religion."
trs-- The prettiest design we over saw
on the tomb-atone of a child, was a lark
soaring upwards, with a rosebud in its
mouth. What could be more sweetly em
blematic of infant innocence winging its
way to Heaven under the care of its guar
dian angel•?
County Superintendent.
Knowing you to be a prac
tical Educationist, and disposed to favor
the improvement of our Common Schools,
I am induced to solicit a place in your col
umns for the purpose of presenting some
thoughts in relation to the expediency of
establishing a County Superintendent.—
The propriety or expediency of the measure
has been much agitated, by teachers and
others interested, in different sections of the
State; but has not been sufficiently noticed
by the public press.
In my intercourse with teachers and oth
ers who have given the subject some at
tention, I have not heard a dissenting voice.
It is a matter of extreme regret, that our
Common Schools aro so much inferior in
point of efficiency, to the Schools of other
States. The reason is obvious. The Com
mon Schools of New York and the Eastern
States, are exclusively under the control
of Educationists—while those of Pennsyl
vania are left to the supervision of men
of all professions and callings, from the
most learned , professor, down to the most
illiterate individual in the country. They
aro among the most important of all our
institutions, and are worthy the fostering
care of every statesman and philanthropist.
To them, to a great extent, we must look
for the perpetuity of the republican prin
PENDENCE." The idea, of equality be
tween the various classes, whether rich or
poor, mighty or humble—inculcated in the
School-room and exhibited during the hours
of recreation, is the first, and most power
ful incentive to the principles of a pure
Democracy—which, being indelibly im
pressed upon the youthful mind, becomet
the rule of action in manhood. Place our
Common School system on an equality with
that of New York State, and it is sufficient
to afford every youth in the Commonwealth
an excellent education; equal, if not supe
rior in practical importance,• to that obtain- -
ed in our Academies and Colleges. Other
States boast of having effected this. We,
also, can effect like results, if we place our
Schools under the regulation of practical
men. When the ineffective operation of
our country Schools is spoken of, the Di
rectors are generally accused of misman
agement, because the law requires them to
select competent teachers, and subsequent
ly to direct then, in their perplexing avo
cation, or to remove them for incompeten
cy. But to require this of Directors, they
must not only bo men of good education,
but intimately acquainted with the best and
most approved methods of giving instruc
tion, which can not be expected, as Direc
tors are usually engaged in pursuits widely
different from that of teaching. The ?no
due operandi of teaching "the young idea
how to shoot," is a more difficult one than
many suppose; even the best teachers are
sometimes in doubt as to the best mode of
imparting instruction and enforcing discip
line, and of course a more extensive knowl
edge of the art of teaching could not be
expected of Directors, whose minds are
constantly engaged in avocations foreign to
the one they are by law required to direct.
Directors and Teachers are both frequent
ly the objects of unjust cehsure—the fer
nier for not making a better selection, and
the latter for want of skill or experience;
while both are generally found, (to the best
of their knowledge and ability,) using eve
ry exertion , for the advantage of the Schools
under their charge, and where proper en
couragement has been given, much has been
accomplished. if something were done to•
elevate the reputation of the Common
Schools, by the introduction of a regular
system of School government and discip
line; wo would soon have plenty of compe
tent professional teachers—but as it is,
disgust drives the best out of the employ
ment, to seek more congenial associations.
It will undoubtedly be asked by some, how
can this be done 1 In answer, I will brief
ly state, that the mime difficulties have
been obviated in other places by the ap
pointment of ono competent person in each
county, for the purpose of superintending
the Common Schools—whose business con
sists in visiting the Schools successively,
taking with him such specimens or plans
of the best Schools, and leaving such in
structions as he may deem essential to the
best interests of both teachers and scholars.
An officer with such powers, if competent
and energetic, would relieve the Directors
of a great amount of labor, which but few
have the ability to perform, and would be
of incalculable advantage to many districts,
by keeping up a harmonious ou-operation
between teachers, directors, pupils, and
parents. He would also be the medium of
communication between the State Superin
tendent and the Directors of the different
The appointment of such an officer has
been strongly urged at different times by
the State Superintendent, but as yet, no
action has been taken by the Legislature.
I hope that every person interested in the
education of the rising generation, will use
all laudable means to have this effected,
during the next session of our Legislature.
Let petitions be circulated in the various
districts, and forwarded at the commence
ment of the session, praying that honora
ble body to pass an act granting each
county in the State one Superintendent,
and I have every reason to believe that
our prayers will be favorably considered.
HUntingdon, July, '62.
For the Journal.
How to Make a Fortune.
Take earnestly hold of life, as capacita
ted for and destined to a high and noble
purpose. Study closely the mind's bunt
for labor or profession. Adopt it early,
and pursue it steadily, never looking back
to the turning furrow, but forward to the
new ground that ever remains to be bro
ken. Means and ways are abundant to
every man's success, if will and action are
rightly adapted to them. Onr rich men
and our great men have carved their paths
to fortune, and by this eternal principle—
a principle that can not fail to reward its
votary, if it be resolutely pursued. To
sigh and repine over the lack of inheri
tance is unmanly. Every man should
strive to be a creator instead of an inheri
tor. He should bequeath instead of bor
row. The human race in this respect,
wants dignity and discipline. It prefers
to wield the sword of valorous forefathers,
to forging its own weapons. This mean
and ignoble spirit. Let every man be con
scious of the power in him and the provi
dence over him, and use his own good lance.
Let him feel that it is better to earn a crust
of bread than to inherit coffers of gold.—
This spirit of self nobility once learned,
and every man will discover within him
self under God, the elements and capaci
ties of wealth. He will be rich, inestima
bly rich in self resources and pan lift his•
face proudly- to meet the noblest among
Contjrariug Beauty.
ffi' tile' eastern part of Delaware county;,
New York, there resided a man named
B --, now a Justice of the Peace, and
a very sensible man, but, by common con
sent the ugliest looking man in the coun
ty, being long, gaunt, sallow and awry,
with a gait like a kangaroo. One day lie
was out hunting, and on one of the moun
tain roads lie met a man on foot and alone,
who was longer, gaunter, uglier by all
odds than himself.. He could give the
"Squire fifty MA behe hAn." Without
saying a word, 13 , -- raised his gun
and deliberately levelled it at the stran
ger. "For God's sake don't shoot!" shout
ed the man in great ala'rm. "Stranger re
plied B , "I swore ten years ago;.
that if ever I met a man uglier than . I
was, I'd shoot him; and you aro the' fust
one I have soon." The stranger; after a
careful survey of his "rival," replied,
"Wall / captain,- If I look any worse than
you do, shute. I don't want to live any
the regular parts of speech?--The tongue;
palate, and lips.
To what branch of grinninci• do Excise
duties on intoxicating liquors belong?—Sin
What is a love letter?—An indefinite
A Creditor's Lotter?—A definite arti
A boy informing against his compan
ions?—Accusative case.
The Companion whipped ?—Vocative
The Master whipped?—An active verb
governing both the accusative and voca
A Bacholor?—A personal pronoun with
out the plural.
r...?" My son, what did yOU bite j:ottr
brother foil Now I shall have to whip
you. Don't you remember the 'Golden
Rule' I taught you. If you would'ut like
to have your brother bite you, you should
not bite him.'
'Ho, mother! got out with your whip
pin.' Remember the 'Golden Rule' your
self. If you would'nt like me to lick you;
taint right for you to lick me!'
Itl Sister Mary—Why Charles, dear
boy, what's the matter You seem miser
able I/
Charles—Ah ! aint I just ! Here's Ma'
says I must wear turn down collars till
Christmas, and there's young Sidney Bow
ler (who's not half so tall as I am) has had
stick-ups and white chokers for ever so
long !
Kr To ho happy, the passions must be
cheerful and gay, not gloomy and melan
choly. A propensity to hope and joy is
real riches; olio to fear and sorrow, real
- Self-love will naves gild the wrour;
to which wo are a party.
Thomas Francis Meagher.
The following is the speech of Mr.
Meagher, the Irish exile just before the
sentence of death was pronounced upon
him in 1848:
~M y Lords, it is my intention to say a'
few words only. I desire that the last
act of a proceeding which has occupied so
much of the public time, should be of short
duration. Nor have I the indelicate wi:,l;
to close the ceremony of a State prosecu
tion with a vain display of words. Did I
fear that hereafter when I shall be .no
more the country I have tried to servo
would think ill of me, I might indeed avail
myself of this solemn moment to *indicate
my sentiments and my conduct. But I
have no such fear. The country will judge
of these sentiments and that conduct, in a
light far different from that in which the
jury by which I have been convicted have
viewed them; and by the country, the sen
tence which you, my Lords, are about to
pronounce, will be remembered only as the
severe and solemn attestation of my recti
tude and truth. Whatever be the lan
guage in which that Sentence be spoken.—
I know that my fate will meet with sympa
thy, and that my memory will be honored.
In speakirfg thus, accuse me net; my
Lords, of an indecorous presumption. to
the efforts I have made in a just and noble
cause, I ascribe no vain importance—nor
do I claim for those efforts any high re
ward. But it so happens--and it will hap
pen so—that they who have tried to serve
their country, no matter how weak the ef
fort may have been', are cure to receive the
thanks and blessings of the people. With
my country, then, I leave my memory, my
sentiments, my acts, proudly feeling that
they require no vindication from me this
day. A jury of my countrymen, it is true,
have found me guilty of the crime of which
I stood endicted. For this I entertain not
the slightest feeling of resentment triwitH
them. Infliteined as they mat have been
by the charge of the Lord Chief Justice,
they could have found no other verdict.—
What of that charge. Any strong obserH
vations on it, I feel sincerely, would ill be-',
fit the aolenmity of this scene; but I would
earnestly beheech of you, my Lord—you
who progao GU that Bench—when the ces
sions and prejudices of this hour have pas
sed away, appeal to your conscience, and
ask of it, was your charge, as it ought to
have been; impartial and indifferent be
tween the subjects and the crown.
4, My Lords, you may deem my language'
unbecoming in me ; and perhaps it may seal
my fate. But I am heie to' speak the
truth, what etti• it may COst. lam here
to reject &Ailing I have ever dmid; T am
here' to crave, with no lying lip, the life I
consecrate to the liberty of my country.—
Far from it—even here—here, where the
thief, the libertine, the murdereer have left
their foot-prints in the dust—here on this
spot,—where the shadows of death sur
round me and from which I see my early
grave; in an imannointed soil, open to re
pave me—even here, encircled by those
terrors, the hope which has boaeritied to
the perilous spa tipori which I have been
wrecked, still consoles, animates, enrap
tures me.: No, Ido not despair of nay poor
old country—her peace, her liberty, her
glory. For that cctirlry 1 can do no more
than bid lief belie.; To lift this island up
—to make her a benefactor to humanity,
instead of being the, meanest beggar in the
world; tO reetefe her to her native' powers
and constitution, this has been my ambi
tion, has been my crime. Judged by the
law of England, I know this crime efi
tails„the penalty of death; but the history
of Ireland explains this crimeand justifies
it. Judged by that history, arn no crim ,
inal. You (addressing Mr. McManus) are
no criminal. You (addressing Mr. O'Don
oboe) are no criminal. I deserve no pun
ishment. IVe deserve no punishment.—
Judged by that history, the treason' of
which I stand convicted looses all its guilt;
it is satietified as a duty, will be ennobled
as a•sacrifice.
titeSe . sentiments, - my Lord, I
await the sentence of the court. Having
done what I felt to be my duty, having
spoken what I felt to be the truth, as I
have done on every occasion of my short
career, I now bid farewell to the land of
my birth, my passion and my death—the
country whose misfortunes have invoked
my sympathies, whose fortunes I have
sought to still, whose ihtelleet have
prompted to lofty aiM, whose freedom hat'
been my fatal dream. I offer to that
'country, as a proof of the love I bear her,
and the sincerity with which I thought,
and spoke, and struggled for her freedom,
the life of a youug heart, and with that
life all the hopes, the honors the endar
ments of a happy and an honorable home.
Pronounce; Chen ; my Lords, the sentence'
which the law directs, end I shall bo pre
pared to boar it. I trust I shall be pre
pared to meet its execution. 1 hope to i be
able, with a pure heart and perfect compo
sure, to appear before a higher tribunal--a
tribunal whore a judgo of infinite goodness,
ae well as justice, will preside, and whore,
my Lords, many, many of the judgements
of this world will•be reversed."
youtito , ' eotumn.
A Swarm of Bees worth Hiving.
B patient, B prayerful, B humble, B
B wise an a' Solon, B, meek as a child;
It'stddiOus, B thotightitir, B kind,
B sure you make matter sitbiirvient to mind.
cautious. B prudent, B trustful, B true,
B courteous to all men; trfriendly with few,
B temperate in argument, pleasure and wine,
B careful of conduct, of money and time.
B cheerful, B grateful, B hopeful, B firm,
B peaceful, benevolent, wfllijig tblearn;
- • •
B courageous, B gentle, B liberal; B just,'
B aspiring, B humble, BECAUSE thou art dust;
B penitent, circumspect, sound in the
Bactiro, ilerot9, B thitlifol till deathi,'
B honest, BliolY, transparent and puro,
B dcpendant,B Christlike, .d you'll B secure
How sweet the smlie of infancy,
That playeth o'er the face;
The ripple of the summer stream
Hath not a purer grace:
Methinks the vilest of the vile .
Must love to see an intent smilel
The happy laugh of ehildhoba,
That ringttit on the air;
T4re's not' an atter note of joy
Thai will with it compare;
It chaseth years of care away
To hear a tone so wild and gay!
And e'en the tear of childhood
That fulled' front the eye,
Is brighter than the pearl• gem
That dropped' front the sky:
Soon, like the dew, it fades away
Ile'bra the smiling face of day!
0, happy hours of citildliciod ,
I would I were a boy,
That I might taste but once again
Such perfectness of joy:
No smile, nor ringing laugh—but tears
Arc left us in oar latter years!
Two Kinds of Riches.
A little boy sat by his soother. lie
looked long its the fire, and was silent.—
Then, as tho deep thought began to pass
away, his eye grew bright, and he spoke
'Mother, I wish to be rich.'
'Why do you wish to be rich, my son!'
And the child said, 'Because every one .
praises the rich. Every one inquires after
the rich. The stranger at our table yes
terday asked who was the richest man in
the village. At school there is a boy who
does not love to learn. He takes no pains
to say well his lessons. Sometimes he
speaks evil words. Nit the children bland"
him not for they say . he is a wealthy boy.'
The mother saw that her child was in
danger of believing wealth might take the
place of goodness, or be an excuse for in
dolence or cause them to be held in honor
who led unworthy lives.
So she asked him, 'What is it to be rich?'
And he answered; 'I do not know. Yet
tell me how I may become rich, that all'
may ask after me and praise me !'
The soother replied,
'To become rich is to got money. For
this you must wait until you are a man.'
Then the boy looked sorrowful and said.
“Is there not some other way of being
rich, that I may begin now !"
She answered, 'The gain of money is not
the only nor the true wealth. Fires may
Wan it down; the Nod:I - drown it, the winds
sweep it away, moth and rust waste it, and
the robber may make it his prey. Men are
wearied with the toil of getting it, but they
kayo it behind at last. They die and car
ry nothing away. The soul of the richest
prince gooth forth like that of the way-side
beggar, without a garment. There is an
other kind of riches, which is not kept in
the purse but in'the heart. Those who
possess them are not always praised by men,
but they have the praihe of Gbd.'
Then said the boy, , Maylbegiti to gath
er this kind of riches' now, 'or must I wait
till I' groW up, and am *a' man
The mother laid her hand his little
head and said.
'To-day if ye will hear His voice; for Re
bath promised that those who seek early
shall find.'
And the child said, 'Teach me how I
may become rich before God.'
Then she looked tenderly on him, and
said, 'Kneel down every night and morn-;
ing, and ask that in your heart you may
love the dear Saviour and trust in hitu.—"
Obey his word, and strive all the days of
your life to be good, and do good to all.—
So; though you may be poor in this world,
you shall he rich in faith and an heir to the
kingdom of heaven.'
TIM Cow TREE.—This is a wonderful
tree growing in the forests of Brazil. Du- -
ring several months in the year, when no
rain falls, anti its brunches are dead and
dried up, if the trunk is tapped a sweet and'
healthful milk flows out. The flow is most
abundant at sun rise. Then the natives
gather around and receive it in their pans,
some drinking it plentifull7undor•th'e tree,
and others carrying it home to theit ehil-'
dteu. It is excellent in tea and coffee.- , ;- 7
Thus in ways which we think not of, doe.'
God supply the table of his bounty.—Thr
Child's Paper.