Huntingdon journal. (Huntingdon, Pa.) 1843-1859, November 11, 1852, Image 1
BY J. A. HALL TERMS. The "HUNTINGDON JOURAL" is pnblished at the following yearly rates: If paid in advance $1,50 If paid within the year 1,75 And two dollars and fifty cents if not paid till after the expiration of the year. No subscription Will he taken for a less period than six months, and no paper will be discontinued, except at the Option of the published, until all arrearages are paid. After the close of the present vol., subscri bers living in distant counties, or in other States, 'will he required to pay invariably in advance. law' The above terms will lie regidly adhered to in all cases. RATES OF ADVERTISING. One square of sixteen fines or less For I insertion $0,50, For 1 month $1,25, 2 C 0,75, " 3 " 2,75, " 3 " 1,00, " 6 " 5,00, PROFFSSIONAL CARDS, not exceeding ten Lines, and not changed during the year • • • • $4,00, Curd and Journal, in advance, 5,00, BUSINESS CARDS of the same length, not chun ked, 53,00 Card and Journal in advance, 4;00 On longer advertisements. whether yearly or transient, a reasonable deduction will ho made and a liberal discount allowed for prompt pay - ment. Vortical. THE LABOURER'S NOONDAY HYMN. Ur to the throne of God is borne The voice of praise at early morn, And he accepts the punctual hymn, Sung as the light of day grows dim. Nor will ho turn his our aside Front holy offerings at noontide: Then here reposing, let us raise A song of gratitude and praise‘ %Vhut though our hurthen be not light, We need not toil from morn to night: The respite of the mid-dad hour Is in the thankful creature's powcr. Blest are the moments—doubly Hest— That, drawn frotn this one hone of rest, Are with a ready heart bestowell Upon the service of our Gu4l Why should we craven hallowed spot? An altar is in each man's cut, A 'Church in every grove that spreads Its living roof above our heads• Look up to heaven! the industrious sun. Already half his race hath run: Ile cannot halt, nor go a:nifty, But our immortal spirits may. Lord! since his rising in the east, If we hate thltered or transgressed, Guile, from thy love's abundant source, What yet remains of this day's course: Help with thy grace through lire's short day, Our upward and our downward way; And glorify fur us the west, When we shall sink in final rest. eommunication. Abstract of an Address Delivered at the close of the Summer term of Mountain .dcademy, BY T. WARD. The accomplishment of any thing desir able on the present occasion needs not a learned address. By this we do not insin uate the low capacity of those who hear, to appreciate,but the high claims of the sub ject to be considered. Though we shall not now decide upon the propriety or impropriety of looking up on "Education" us the hobby of such oc casions, jaded and abused yet, we may up on that of the assertion that its claims are reasonable and important, commending themselves to every working min , hero aro many themes aside from t,l i high might be dwelt upon, not only wit ad ow of fitness, but with better prosp.et of affording entertainment. Our agile not barren of questions before the public wind seeking to be settled, among which the ver iest tyro might be fortunate. Politics casts, upon the public speaker, a pitiful and pray ing look. 'Oppressed humanity spreads forth imploring hands, and with tearful eyes and burning eloquence, begs us to settle the mooted question of intervention. Al- Most a score of gaunt and shapeless Isms, with long fingers, are beckoning us to sad' which shall be greatest, and to assign their "venerable founders" a place among the gods. But to the entreaties of the first, we turn a listless ear, sure it has nothing to fear in point of attention, though we should never name it. Others, at other times and places, must settle Austria's claims; and from the demi spiritual or demi demon host that is shouting, with many voices, "we! we! we!" as if to the ehildrens fire-side question, "who speaks first ?" we turn unmoved. Our busines is about the Intellect improved. Suffice it if the effort prove a mite to fur ther a great cause—to effect in the least 0 degree that we I t behind the marshal ed host that is .ng on and leaving In dolence in th„ Indolence! Heavy charges might be nn - tinqbcot HUNTINGDON, PA., THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 11, 1852: substantiated against this sleepy goddess. Sarcasm might almost be permitted to use its sharpest claws to expose her hideous de formities and criminal delinquence; but if more moderate measures will answer, we must not fail to employ them. It is a maxim of important meaning, that "charity begins at home," and how fitly is it manifested in a concern for our own wel fare considered in its widest and most tirb per sense. Look at man, either as a mor al or intellectual being, and it is easy dis covered his condition is far from what it might and should be. It is not particularly the business of this occasion to show or at tempt to show, that the great fabric, the moral man lays low in helpless ruins to be re-started by God alone, but that intellect, a gent that may be polished and improved by man himself, and that the chief concern should not be for the physical condition. If it is asserted that man is the noblest specimen of creative powers, we will admit it, and only ask wherein does this nobleness or superiority consist ? In any one of all his wonderful doings ? In that with the telescope's "ever lengthening sweep" he counts the distant worlds? In that he bath learned to navigate the air or with steam to plough the ocean ? In that he Lath tamed the fierce lightning, and made it the bearer of his messages? In that ho raises the vallies and levels down the hills and drills the mountain of rock to make a track for the winged car? 0 no; the single characteristic of enterprising ingenu ity could never mark the difference. It is only comprehended in the wonderful con trast between animal instinct and the human intellect;—the one perfect in the earliest period of existence, the other capable of indefinite improvement. Thus the very constitution of mind not or:ly forces us back to a starting point to all attainment, but argues the necessity and propriety of con tinual and properly directed effort, that those attainments be as high as possible.-- And this. same progressive nature of mind may be ground to conclude that we not un frequently mistake our own capabilities.— Though so general, there is nevertheless but little, if any, credit to be attached to that species of modesty which .developer itself in thinking meanly of self in an intel lectual point of view. Its character is de cided. It is wrong, wrong as pride itself, and often nothing but that wicked thing in a better shape. As idnividuals, our aim will bo low as the estimate we put upon our abilities; and as a people we will be satisfied with our condition till viewing it properly, we discover it practicable that it be better ed. But how to rid one's self and commu nity of the incubus,—that's the question. IVhen we consider the lofty attainments made by proper exertion, it may be said with safety, we have not the faintest idea of the position our race would occupy if that exertion were but general. A farmer in a thousand, perhaps, is aware of the ef fect of proper tillage to multiply the num ber of bushels produced by an acre of land. There is some analogy between the soil and the intellect. Both require cultivation or they remain barren or produce but noxious shrubs and poisonous plants. Our idea of Nature's process in calling up, at early spring -time, the tribe Rana was always vague, yet it has been said it is done by means of thunder. The fire-side phil osophy ivhich disc( urses upon the breaking of the fledgling's shell by the saute mighty instrument is still but poorly understood; yet we do not admit that circumstances have not very much to do in calling into action the dormant powers of intellect.— We are sure they have. There is reason to believe that many, very many who might have been men, indeed have lived and died in obscurity for want of means or opportu nity as a just idea of things early taught them, circumstances never thundered to wake them into life, which, had they, it would have appeared they were sleeping giants. A great deal too much 'lv here be trusted to the capability of things to find their proper level. It may be a truth of force to some extent, that genius will develope itself, yet it may with some rea son, be looked upon as a "base slander" of tLo human race, to say that better talent has not remained buried in the rubbish of indolence and adverse circumstances, than ever filled the Pulpit, graced the Bar, or thundered in the Senate chamber. To create feelings of vanity in the minds of any would be a wicked wish indeed, and one which would require years completely to undo, yet on the other hand, we could not as effectually bless or benefit mankind in any other way, as in convincing first, of the worth of a soul, and second,—if there be a distinction—of the capabilities of the immortal mind. The accomplishment of almost any thing, by man, depends upon zeal and determination. Especially is this the case in the work of education. To in spire the scholars thus, is the teacher's first, often, most difficult task. And why? Why, very much for the reason, that the parents duty has been neglected. 0! the wicked waste of talent, caused by the ig norance and neglect of those to whom the years of earliest training are entrusted.- 1 You ask then, what is to be done l Why, without waiting to explain, Fathers, Moth ers, wake thy boy lest he sleeps himself a dwarf to all eternity. Teach him what you can, of the worth of intellect. Teach him what you can, of the importance of impro ving the immortal mind, which here but commences a flight to last throughout eter nity. Art thou a Philanthropist, indeed, sighing for the well being of humanity, neg lect not the surest means and method, to effect it. Look about and see where the richest jewels lie concealed—smile upon the efforts that are making to develope the powers of those .embryo giants. Pick up that ragged urchin in the street; not to feed and clothe him simply, but to mark the fact, and teach it to him, that he may be come a mighty man, and you will have done the Philanthropist's first, and noblest, and most appropriate work—a work which would almost give a fresh impulse to the course of things in the literary world— would almost open anew the treasury of discoverable truth;—would widen the sphere of human research, and eventually teach mankind more and more of the wonderful works of Deity. We do not fancy it will ever happen that men will not hate to "la bor up to greatness,"--that a boy will ev er be able intuitively to decline "penna" or eongugato "tupto"—that Mathimatics or Philosophy, or any science, will be mas tered but by first mastering the elementary principles,—no such thing. But we do fancy, that " penna" and " tupto," and Philosophy, and Mathematics, and all such, aro but playthings for a determined mind. Very much is comprehended in the sim ple word, Progress. We can hardly claim that our condition, in respect of education, contrasted with the past, affords a very fair illustration of kliat it means; but so far as it will go, take the present character of common schools, and the same even within a period known to "living historians," when an acquaintance with Arithmetic "through the rule of three," was looked upon as learning for males,, fully qualifying them for business in life, and when a knowledge of the elementary rules and other things in proportion, constituted, for females, an ac complished education. Palmy days of lit erature, these, and even later, when iimr Murray and Kirkham were esteemed, by leachers, only:as-a little too dry, forvoread ing books," Geography, as rather interes ting, for its pictures, and Philosophy, as not intended for the common people: Slone of these things are said by way of boasting. Nothing in our-condition we tify it, yet the fact that sill stu ado a part of the education, not Op k more aspiring males, but also)) - , is evi deuce that in point of in c al advanta ges, at least, we occupy nigher station than as good and sensible pepple did, less than fifty years ago. But this, by no means, argues that things are as they should be. This must not be supposed.— Almost as well might wo inscribe our mot to ref for very soon, should our course be backward. Neither must it be suppo sed there is any analogy between mind and body, in regard to their perfection. We are not aware upon what principles the theory is based, which teaches that at a certain period in life, men become "too old to learn," but we risk . the assertion, they are false. It must be confessed, without much honor or credit to any ono related to the race, that very many, perhaps the ma jority of men, at no great age, become too big or too lazy to give any further atten tion to mental improvement, but we are sure, that at no time, have they been "too old" but in their own estimation. This would be to deny the progressive nature of mind, and to admit that it is a thing of mere ephemeral growth, which all its man ifestations contradict. If it is so with In tellect, why soars she away upon the wings of fancy, not simply to dance around the airy castles built for her amusement, but to linger in the regions of undiscovered truth 1 Why so often does she, as it were, burst asunder the fetters that enslave her, and soar aloft to gaze upon the works of Deity 1 To her, why hath Nature's voice a charm ? Why loves she to sport upon the sunbeam and 'frolic in the harvest sky?' The wind that bloweth where it listeth why hath it a charm? Why loves she thus, the sea, lordlcss and limitless; or the cataract, cry, with which Niagara tells eternity she is ohainless now, and will forever be."-- All these are her tendencies, and these el• entente of Nature's freedom is but an at mosphere in which Intellect breathes its own native air. %en who shall dare to fetter it, or by their course, to cast a with ering shadow over it? Who dares, can do it. Mark yon giant oak that has braved a thousand hurricanes. Its history; in a word, is this,--it was once an acorn, which in shooting its tender leaflets through the surface of the earth, might have been crushed and smothered by a pebble. So i d the infant mind. A thousand withering influences may operate against its growth. It is not the emaciated ghost of poverty alone, that is destructive here; but the card hand of avarice; the bony, bloodless lingers of the mizer;—the hurricane of business; . — wealth heaped up "to be enjoyed";—luxu ry, fat and pampered with a mind, not sim- ply waste from neglect, imbeoil from abuse of the physical man: It will not be expected that any one will here ask what is to be done. Does it not appear ? Needs it any argument of ours, to show that riches, without a reference to the mental and moral, are but a temporal and eternal curse 4 We have the right of the question, and shall answer it without tt moments hesitance. What signify these canals and rail roads, though all their ears and crates were loaded with bullion ? What signify these furnaces, cold or hot, though they were so many mints, for the coinage of guineas and eagles I We an swer, taken simply as a present benefit, and that without regard to morals or intellect, nothing but the completest curse; If - then we regard the most reasonable dictates, whether of reason or inspiration, the treasure, however small, will be fairly appropriated. The cause of education, next to that of religion, shall have more to hope for. The one shall uncurl its banner of love and peace over a benighted world, and the other shall put forth its hundred hands to help the infatit efforts of the in tellectual man, and if possible, render him indeed the pride of creative power. Suppose that son were an idiot, but barely conscious of his own existence, what father would spare a fortune, though it equalled the stores of Croesus, if he could thereby but purchase for him ' a common mind? Then if that father be told that his son, instead of being an idiot, possesses not only a common mind but bile of supe rior Strength and brightness he might read his duty. But will he? Ab, there is a witching blindness here, that charms the wretch when it afflicts and leads to soon , strong errors a goodly character. True, it is not the privilge of every one, as it is ours, to say "we are an honeSt rind Indus trious people. Neither is it their right as is ours to say "we have come by what we possess by the hardest." These are com fortable considerations; but it is a pity they aro made—sometimes basely made a retreat from the discharge of duty. No one shall be permitted to ask, on any account—what have you to say why these things should not be so. It is the duty of every one, to right the moral wrong, and we must not avoid it. Then we will be al lowed to say that with all our tendencies upward and onward—with all we know and all we possess, it behoves us to lay sonic new foundations; and with all our construc tions not to forget the literary institution; nor yet to establish it merely in mockery of our neighbors, but because it is needed —actually hdead—to stud our high ways with the Academy, the College and the Seminary, nut simply that we may seem to be keeping pace with the spirit of the times, but to show by the health influence exerted that in the realization.of any desirable state of things, mind with all things else must progress; and to convince the "way faring man" as lie dashes by in the wing ed ear, that we aro truly a people march ing on to greatness in its proper sense. We have no quarrel with the "spirit of the times" so far as it is marked with ha proveinent. All we ask is that it be not narrowed down to the accumulation of del-, lars and cents. That in the great thorH oughfare of business, some small place be appropriated for the dealer in mental wares;—for our cause a living chance. And this it must have. Neither true wealth, true greatness, nor true happiness can over be realized without it. The advocates of in tellectual improvement must plant their standrad in the very ' , market places," and there, upon banners appropriately inscribed, point the busy world to the only merchan dise of temporal sort that is worth buying next to the ' , necessaries of life" which with most purchasers are the fewest and loait expensive. By the dock and the depot must be erected the school house and Academy, where shall be dealt out, not small trappings for the body, but furniture, for the great mental fabric which God has built. And though the land resounds and tremble under the thund. ring tramps of business, yet throughout its entire length and breadth must be established, first the church and second the school--the only re- 1 liable marks cf true progress. A4toceltancotio. 11 Orson Pratt, ono of the Mormon prOphets, has put forth a proclamation to the Spanish Americans in California and elsewhere, inviting them to look into the mysteries of the "new revelation," and assuring thorn that they are descondants of the original Mormons Nophi and .Lainauf two brothers who emigrated frcm Jerusa lem two thousand four hundred years ago, and settled upon the American continent. AN old man picked up half a dollar in the street. ~O ld man that's mine," sail a keen looking rascal, 'so hand it over."— "Did yours have a hole in it?" asked the old man. 'Yes' replied the other smartly. “Thenf it is not thine," mildly replied the old man, "thee must learn to he a little sharper next time, my boy." '9‘ onrit hliaht Diguity. Among the thousand deceptions passed off on our sham-ridden race, let me direct your attention to the deception of dignity, as it is one which includes many others.— Among those terms which have long ceas ed to have any vital meaning, the word dignity deserves a disgraceful prominence. No word has fallen so readily as this into the designs of cant, imposture and pre tence; none has played so well the part of verbal scarecrow, to frighten children of all ages and both sexes. It is at once the thinnest and most effective of all the cover ings under which duncedom sneaks and skulks. Most of the men of dignity, who awe or bore their more genial brethren, are simply men who possess thd art of passing off their insensibility for wisdom, their dullness for depth; and of concealing im becility of intellect under haughtiness of manner. Their success in this small game is one of the stereotyped satires upon man.; kind. Once strip from these pretenders their stolen garments—once disconnect their show of dignity from their relit mean ness=and they woia stand shivering and defenceless, objects of the tears of pity, or targets for the arrows of scorn. But it is the misfortune of this world's affairs, that offices, fitly occupied only by talent and genius, which despise pretence, should be filled by respectable stupidity and dig nified emptiness, to whom pretence is the very soul of life. Manner triumphs over matter, and throughout society, politics, letters and science, we are doomed to inset a swarm of dunces and windbags, disguised as gentlemen, statesmen and scholars.— Coleridge once saw at a dinner-table s a dignified man with a face as wise as the moon's. The awful charm of his manner was not broken until muffins appeared, and then the imp of gluttony forced from him the exclamation,“Thenfs the jockeys for rue!” A good numer of such dignitariaus re main undiscovered. It is curious to note how these pompous getttlemen rule in society and government. How often do history and the newspapers exhibit to us the spectacle of a heavy headed stupiditarian in official station, veiling the strictest incen.ipetency in the mysterious sublimity of carriage, solemnly trifling away the interests of the Stttte, the dupe of his own obstinate ignorance, and engaged, year after year, in ruining a peo ple after the most dignified fashion! You have all seen the inscrutable . dispensation known by the name of the dignified gen tleman; an embodied tediousness; which society is 'apt not only to tolerate, but wor- Hhip; a person who announces the staic commonplaces of conversation with the awful precision of one bringing down to the irdlidys of thought, bright truth pluck ed on its summits; who is so profoundly deep and painfully solid on the weather, the last novel, or some other nothing of the day; who is inexpressibly shocked if your eternal gratitude does not repay him► for the trite information he consumed your hour in imparting; and who, if you insinu ate that this calm, contented, imperturba ble stupidity, is preying upon your pa tience, instantly stands upon his dignity, and puts on a face. Yet this man, with just enough knowledge "to raise himself from the insignificance of a dunce to the dignity of a bore," is still in high favor even with those whose animation ho checks and chills—why? Because be has, all say, so much of the dignity of a gentle man! The poor, bright, good-natured man, who l►as done all in his power to be agreeable, joins in the cry of praise, and feelingly regrets that nature has not adorned him, too, with dullness as a robe, so that he, likewise, might freeze the vola tile into respect., and be held up as a mod el spoon for all dunces to imitate.. This dignity, which so many view with reveren tail despair, must have twinned, "two at a birth," with that ursine vanity mentioned by Coleridge, "which keeps itself alive by sucking the paws of its own self-impor tance." The Duke of Somerset was ono of these dignified gentlemen. Ills second wife was the most beautiful woman in England. She once suddenly throw her arms around his neck, and gave him a kiss which might have gladdened the heart of du emperor. The Duke, lifting his should ers with an aristocratic, square, slowly said. "Madam, my first wife was a Howard, and she never would have taken such a liberty."—TV/dppii: Dr. Frankfort, who has been work ing some abandoned lead mine opened at Middletown (Conn.) during the revolution.; ary war for the supply of builets to our army, has found wore than enough silver' to pay the expehties of working the mines, thus leaving the lead obtained as clear profit. The awouut of silver appears to be increasing. frrAdvices from Mexico exhibit that country in a deplorable condition. Insur rections continue to take place, and pro nunciamentos to be issued. The treasury is exhausted, atd ever and anon a rumor is circulated that a formidable outbreak will tako place hr the' the capitol. VOL. 17, NO. 45. A Dfriit ctf•Blood. fete lb hailed upon to demonstrate; " through his works, the supreme wisdom of the Creator, wp would degro to Speak of nothing more than the structure and fund tions of a little drop of blood, taken from those numblerless.tivers of lifo which hiivd their their origin in the heart, and which pursue their unfaltering course through our bodies in many fuilliens of channels. Through the whole world's history, science has had no higher exponents thati Galileo and Ilarvoy. Though separated by many leagues of Sett and lend, they toiled In the same sunlight and in the same fruitful days and while one had the scope of his vision so enlarged as to be 'able to see the earth rushing through its eternal orbit, and to point out the anchor of the sun in the depths of infinity, the other, with his refined gaze, was unfolding the Sublime mysteries of the structure of the image of God, and teaching the world that these human forms arc merely bun dies of many thousands of canals, through which rush the crimson boats, laden with the nutriment and essence of ife. The latter discovery was of infinitelY more consequence to the well-being of mankind than the former. It gave us tho key to the uses and abuses of foOd; a key to the changes which the inanimate bread which we eat undergoes, ere it becomes a part of out living bodies, and also taught us the kinds of food most easily converted into blood; and endowed with vitality. A drop of blood was no longer regarded as a simple, red fluid, but was proved to be a beautiful compound of some seventeen sub= stances; all of which—not excepting even the sulphur, flint, copper or iron—are ab solutely indispensable to a state of health; Let us follow a single drop of blood in its travels through the system; All at.; terial, or pure blood, is distributed through the body from the left ventricle of the besot. Starting, then, front that point, this drop of blood; fitted to nourish and warm the meat distant part of the body, passes through those thrte valves, shaped like half moons, which itt.nd at the outlet of the ventricle, and servo as flood-gates hi preventing the tide of life from ebbing back upon the heart; here it enters thb great aorta, which is the name of the first artery—the largest in the body--and from the numerous branches and sub-divisions of which, all. the vessels which carry pure blood from the heart, and which are term ed arteries, are formed. Passing through the aorta; it Is hurried; with great rapidity, perhaps into the head, perhaps into the hand, or perchance into the foot; we will suppose the latter to he the case. Upon arriving at the foot, (the artery through which it passed having been growing smaller,) we now find that it enters, parti:- ele by particle, one of those minute vessels termed capillaries, some of which are littld more than ono four-thousandth of an inch in diameter; . Here the blood globules bf the drop with which we started, having parted with their health-giving oxygen, and taken on a like quantity of worthless carbon and ei hausted matter, and halting exchanged their tOseatei hue for a dart, purple cblor, the drop commences its ascent to the heart, which it finally enters at one or the two openings into the right auricle. It went forth, a pure blushing, healthy drop of perfect blood, fitted to strengthen, nourish and vitalise any . portion of the system to which it might flow; even shoUld it be diz rotted to that exceedingly delicate fabric where Reason sits throned, and all the good within us, of sentiments or intend( its, are elaborated. It returned, laden with dead matter, a mass of corruption and dis ease which would be poisonous to the least vitalised bone in the human systent, It went out, in its perfection, as a glean: , or of all the noxious mtittor It might find in its path, and it ate the seeds of fever, and drank the miasmatic dews that *Oro scattered through the systems, and now it is in the heart, demanding to be released of its burden. The heart hurries its visi tor into the vessels of the lungs, and there, while passing through the capillaries, it shaves off all its foul inctunbranees, takes on the elements and hue or lifelia i n i rbturns to the heart, fresh and ready to perform again the offices of isher and scavenger of the system: OUR LANOUAGE.—The difficult' of ap•: plying rules to the' Pronlinciation of our language may be illustrated in two lines; where the combination of the letters ough is pronontMed seven different ways, namely, as o, uf, of, up, ow, 00, ogh. " Though the tough cough and hiccough me through, O'er like dark lough my course I still pursue." UG'°A: Frenchman who proposed to tablish a school in New Orleans; having heard that a high school would be most re spectably patronised, took a room in the' garret of a four storS , house. ILr"lf I au► ►stue up,' 1 ain't proud," said the beetle when ho was pinned to the wall.