Huntingdon journal. (Huntingdon, Pa.) 1843-1859, July 29, 1852, Image 1
Oats t 1!.? ., ,,„„ • 4it 4 11:1 4 (fin)014 x, • s Cllll/tta,,,, VOLUME XVII. TERMS OF PUBLICATION: TILE "HUNTINGDON 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 live or more, in advance, • • 1,25 ,Tile above Terms will he adhered to in all cases. No subscription will be taken fora less period than *ix months, and no paper will be discontinued un til all arrearages are paid, unless at the option of the publisher. tactical. ON! 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, or, 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 lacing. Sleeping rooms should have a fire place, or some mode of ventilation besides the windows. 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 preservation. Loveliness. 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•? HUNTINGDON, PA., THURSDAY, JULY 29, 1852. Sigtoceitancouo. County Superintendent. MR. HALL : 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 ciples of 4, VIRTUE, LIBERTY, AND INDE— 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 districts.. 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. A TEACHER. 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 men. 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 longor."* GRAMMATICAL QUERIES.—What are the regular parts of speech?--The tongue; palate, and lips. To what branch of grinninci• do Excise duties on intoxicating liquors belong?—Sin tax. What is a love letter?—An indefinite article. A Creditor's Lotter?—A definite arti cle. A boy informing against his compan ions?—Accusative case. The Companion whipped ?—Vocative case. The Master whipped?—An active verb governing both the accusative and voca tive. 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 poverty. - 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 I 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." NUMBER 36. 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 CHILDItOOD, 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.