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BY J. A. HALL.
rEnnis.
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Vocticod.
JANUARY.
A Northern Scene,
Aquarius spreads o'er bill and plain
His liquid, floecy wings,
Aud o'er the placid, giant main,
A silv'ry radiance flings;
A sparkling mist his breath scuds far,
Throughout the ether clear,
And from above each orbed star
Seems dropping down a tear.
The flow'rless trees, the grove, the glade,
'Nenth his white mantle spread,
Are nurtured still, though not a blade
Of verdure lifts its head;
The naked forest moans and sighs,
And Bureau from the wave
Sweeps by, whilst Hope, with tearful eyes,
Weeps o'er poor Flora's grave.
The latticed hedges, plaited boughs,
In crystal tubes repose;
No tuneful voice, no melting vows,
The spells of love disclose;
All seem at rest, save down yon hill,
O'er rocks of plated sheen,
The -brook as blithsome dances still,
As though the vales were green.
The minstrel birds have fled—and now,
Whilst Death pervades the grove
Where beauty reigned, they breathe a vow
In foreign climes of love,
With winning strangers fu• from sight,
In fragrant sunny spheres—
Like false slid fickle frieacls to-night,
Who leave us in onr tears.
But soon these scenes shall pass away,
Enchanting Spring return;
The flow'rets blow, and 'Floral May
Appear with brimming urn;
The truant lords, that woo and Mani
Through distant bow'rs end
Will seek their dear neglected home
When bloom revives the mends.
Ala, sweet the flow'rs shall smile again,
And deck the matted bower,
The emerald verdure spread the plain
Restored to life and power;
.wart their odors—blend the air
infused with genial rays
And balms ambrosial—beauty rare,
When Vesper sings her-lays.
'Tis then, Aurora, in the East,
In all her wonted pride,
Will tinge with roses I leaven's breast—
Difrtnte an odorous
Ito golden wings despatch the morn,
And bounteous Cares send,
With proud Amaltlne a full horn—
Earth's tears with mercy blend.
Oh, then rejoice ! a voice Supreme,
The spirit of the flower,
Shell call to life -from Death's stern d'reams,
To ',mail . ) , time bower;
In purer state, tout fell blast,
Triumphantly to bloom—
As mortal flow'rets of the pait,
linrinottaPl'rom the tomb!
ftritoccitancouo!
The Simi immortal.
"The sun is but a spark of fire,
A transient meteor in the sky;
The soul immortal as its sire,
Shall never, never die!"
Thus Watts sweetly sings. Yes, the
tdind is immortal. Infinite wisdom hail oth
erwise never iinplanted longings which all
of earth leaves unsatisfied, or gifted us with
capacities capable of improvement.
The brute is born, attains maturity and
hastens to depart. Its powers culminate,
and it sinks into a decay ominous of ex
tinction; whilst man's longest life closes
upon an intellect yet in rapid development.
The body, as it runi; qulekly•through its
cycle from youth to age, proves oftentimes,
it is true, w'weuriness and clog to the pri
soner within: put their' nion SeVertad; like a
bird cage-freed ) the disentbralled spirit 'will
HUNTINGDON, PA., WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 5, 1853.
soar away on pinions imperishable.
Distinct, as it is, in its nature, from the
material, analogy forbids that we should
anticipate the mind,s annihilation when
that home where it briefly tabernacled has
gone back into dust. Death involves a
disintegration of parts; but in the immate
rial we can conceive of no such separation,
and hence can predicate no decay. As the
insect flutters from out its chrysalis in
green and gold, 5 .0 sport amid flowers and
sunshine, so shall the purified spirit forsake
its chrysalis to dwell amid the beauties and
brightness of heaven. There, in the frui
tion of its fondest hopes, will it find ample
amends for all sorrow and every sadness,
and participate in pleasure which those who
deny a future—because they dread its
awards—can never enjoy. .
Then cheer up, travel worn and Chris
tian pilgrim. With thankful heart partake
of such as thy present affords, and trust
unwaveringly in God, assured that what
ever betide hereafter, thy voice shall be
attuned to angel harmonies, and thy home
be in that city whose gates are pearl; along
whose streets murmur the crystal river,
and in whose midst blooms the tree of life.
ExpositiOn of Juggling.
The Chicago (Illinois) Journal, exposes
to the public some of the most interesting
secrets of the Wizards. A conjuror's im
plements were lately seized in Chicago, and
hence this exposition
In the hurry of departure he unluckily
left at the depot a couple of large boxes,
which the creditors of his wizardship Im
mediately pounced upon, and which were
found to contain the implements of his
trade. Still more unlucky for professors
of diablerie, these articles reveal the modus
operandi of their business—showing how it
is done and how it isn't. We beg pardon
of all wizards for letting the public into
their secrets, but as we are not sworn to
privacy, we cannot be reproached for vio
lation of confidence, and moreover as the
knowledge gained is of such stupendous
consequences, we deem it a duty to give it
for the "cause of public enlightenment."
The most combimus article - of this 'stock
in trade' is a large copper kettle, in which
Dr. Faustus and the Devil were wont to
boil their dinners. This kettle is suspend
ed before the audience, and into it are
thrown several pails full of water, which
is suddenly converted into solid ice, or
mysteriously metamorphosed into half a
dozen pigeons, rabbits, &c., &c., which, on
removing the cover, hurry away in every
direction. All this is the silliest piece of
humbugging in the world to such as can
perceive that .this mysterious kettle is made
with double sides,
with a vacancy between
them into which the water passes, and
thence is drawn upward through the pail
and suspending rods, which are hollow, and
passes off in the manner of a syphon to a tub
below the stage. The cover is sufficiently
large to contain the birds and rabbits,
which, by turning the knob of the cover,
are let down, together with the separatrix
that concealed them, into the kettle.
The celebrated "bottle feat"—:of pour
ing a great variety of wines and liquors
from a common glass bottle—is no less sim
ple, and when understood no less silly than
the foregoing. The common glass bottle
borrowed from the audience is, of course,
not the ono used on these occasions, but is
exchanged for another made of Japanned
tin, and furnished internally with recepta
cles for the different kinds of liquors.—
Each receptacle has a valve, and these
valves may be opened and closed at pleas
ure, by stops on the outside of the bottle,
arranged for the fingers, like the keys of a
musical Instrument. The compartments
having no connection with the mouth of
the bottle, except by the valves, the bottle
may at any time be rinsed with water, and
then more liquor be poured out. There
are a couple of these "inexhaustible bot
tles" in the "present collection," both of
which are to be sold to the highest bidder.
We advise parties going to California or
the lumber regions to buy and take them
along—they may thus oarry a respectable
liquor shop in each pocket.
The "Etherial Suspension," is another
trick of the jugglers, at which people, with
large marvelousness, were staring with open
mouths and elevated eyebrows. The strong
iron machinery for' suspending the body,
in a horivintal position, is among the arti
cles disclosed by the opening of the box:
A small piece of brass' ordnance, calcu
lated for the use of gold watches, canary
birds, &c.,*for ammunition, is another of
the interesting collection.. There are also .
a grout variety of other articles, numbering
together sumo fifty or sixty, designed for
various uses in the black art. —A ews.
WoUrn REMEMIIERINO.—feese's Me
dilan Gazetto'says, "In casa of any burn or
scald, hoWever ovtensivo, all the suf
fering of tho patient may be at once and
permanently relieved, and that in a mo
ment, by sprinkling over the surface a
thick layer of wheat flour.
Many friends are lost by ill-tiined jests.
Watrono of rtir
"HUNTINGDON JOURNAL.
JANUARY 1, 1553.
Custom is law—a maxim sage and old
Demands that we, the typo's "devil,"
Should tell a tale, that yearly now is told—
We seek a little of the "root of evil."
AN ADDRESS then, hind patrons, we must make,
And you of course will an each address take.
We make our bow—a modest bow, to win,
With "sold again," and further "got the tin."
We claim the poet's lisence, and of course,
Vor our Pegasus, ride a common horse.
And we shall write such matter and such measure
As best may suit our themes, and suit our pleasure.
A year has sped !
Time's drifting tide has swept us past
Another year, that slumbers with the dead.
Another ! that may be our last ;
Its buds of promise, now so full and fair,
May fade and fall, or only blossom there,
Where swell the anthems of the dead and blest,
Where wicked trouble not, and weary rest.
This lesson learn
Life is a race,—we start at birth,
First creep, then walk; then run each slevlous turn;
The goal a grave, In the cold earth.
Our Master summons, we obey the call
And win a crown, or loosing surely fall—
The Crown, of jewels all divinely fair;
Our loss, the stern demands of dark despair!"
A year is dead, as we have said,
And we must tell its story ;
Of course in verse—brief, true, and terse,
And then we'll get the glory,
We have cause to weep,
Our gallant lIARRY CLAY
Sleeps his last sleep.
Sleeps ! no eternal day
Welcomes him home to seek, at last a rest
Where envy's shaft shall never reach his breach
He lives! his deeds, on history's brightest page,
Shall teach the sons of every clime and age,
That patriot zeal, and holy love of truth,
Builds a proud name, to d'On the humblest youth
Let the good man sleep,
His
,toil cn earth is 'done,
The wise will weep, ,
For they can see how ono
Who spent a life of sacrifice and toil,
Received no honor but in party broil.
How party hate embittered every hour—
Envy and falsehood knew their shameful power.
He rests at last; and now they own their shame,
And their false tongues admit his lasting fame.
Death, the stern monarch,
Claims us all his own.
WEBSTER, a shining mark
He hasten'd quickly home.
Away from his task, in the Nation's White Hail,
He hurried away at his Master's last call;
His fame, all the tempests of time will survive,
And each deed of his life say "still I do live,"
"That Rod and that Staff" received his last trust,
And ho now, it is hoped, is with God and the Just.
Now a word about conventions,
Where candidates sot up pretentious
To be their party's nominee
In hopes they may elected be.
At Baltimore last spring you know
The Locos held their raree show.
Tho first one named was Lowis Cass
Ho saw his hated and said "I pass."
Next in the ranks Buchanuan stood
Who swore he'd found that drop of blood .
That was not found, nor yet let out,
In eighteen twelve, or there about.
The cunning sons of our own State
Who know the tracks that "Indians" make,
Midnight. heart strings, beyond all reach of medicine, to the drir,thit will soon tire of its menoto
,The clock is striking twelve! how fine- perhaps of sympathy. Many a wife sits ny--for tho fervent poet is baildi,ng up
ly the full tongs sweep past through the watching with a broken heart for her hus- his dream into the sky, with his eyes
air as if it would take up thought and ear- band's step—many a mother for her child's straining in the darkness, and his pnlso
ry it miles away to the friend we we r e —and many an adventurous merchant lies mounting with the leaping freedom of an
thinking of at the moment. llow many haunted with fears of shipwreck and fire— aegel's, forgetting the world will trample
haunts of wretchedness hidden from hu- many an undetected defaulter watches at out his fiery spirit to ashes, and laugh to
man eye, id tho depths of human hearts, the door—many a young girl just finding scorn the fine work of his towering fancy.
have tho cold vibrations reached while dy- out that love is only a heaviness, and a
ing so carelessly upon the ear? What tear, 'pinks" bitterly over the capritie of a Lay by a good store of patience, ut:
tales might they tell of secret misery, sick- moment or an unmeant trifle. And these be sure and put it where you can find it.'
ness, watching and praying, sorrow and are the only watchers—for the happy are
fear, and care, and the thousand bit- asleep , —save the bride' O' hor daintily A burden which was thoughtlessly got
ter cankers that lie and feed at the very wrought pillow, murmuring in a MY/ tong must be patiently borne.
ADDRESS
OF THE CARRIER
~~~ ~~3~
-.. ~ e••• .41(A6j0. -....0 0 .-
Said Jimmy's blood and breeding too
For such a race would never do,
The effort lie had made to pay
The work-man with "ten cents" a day;
His Indian allies hero at home
Would be his death; and they were 'some'
Pumpkins. Jimmy's dollars did'ut win
For Cass's friends took off his skin.
Some smaller chaps had stood aside
And in the "wagon" hoped "to ride,"
When lo ! a sudden jerk, and fierce
Threw hi their midst—one Franklin Pierce,
And "presto change"—the trap was set—
Ah,! Pierce, 'tis said is running yet:
Nett °eine the Whigs; with honest zeal
They sought to serve the public weal.
They had their threo good men and great;
With one they hoped to guide the State—
Fillmore and Webster and old Scott :
Upon the latter fell the lot,
The bravo old man, had spent his life;
In the battle's deadliest strife.
Where e'er our starry :, , tripea have waved,
There has old Scott the carnage braved,
In camp, in field, in Cabinet,
No braver, wiser, heart was met.
It matter'd not, the die was cast,
And Scott and Whigs went down at last.
But Whigs, a word, before wo close,
Whose turn is next, there's no one knowl,
Our flag, for smoke , would seem, no where,
Yet see! high up, it flutters there,
"The sign of hope and promise nigh"—
In triumph yet that flag shall fly:
We ought to say a word or two,
About John Bull, and old ttOrappeau,"
But our foreign relations are quiet of late,
The bull ceas'd to bellow,—the Frenchman to prate,
They claim as their friend, and faithful ally,
Our President Pierce, and the free trading fry;'
So Louis and Empire, we hand to old Nick,
And the beef eating Britians will find us a "brick,"
For the Wliigs have no allies, but American bred,
With protection to work they'll find plenty of bread,
And they'll live just as well, as the Locos no doubt,
Although they don't know, when there's , stealings' about,
Now though our flag—seemfut a rag
"It will not do"—in town, sir
We'll let you know, to give up so,
Mbst worthy "Mr. Brown," sir.
We'll wait that tide, whereon men ride
Which taken at its flood, sir
To fortune leads—whoever heeds—
We'll wait that time so goad, sir.
There's no good Whig, will care a fig—
We know how beating feels, sir
Our skins before, were oft trues tore—
We're used to't like the eels, sir.
Oh remember, Ob remember,
When in eighteen forty-four,
How they flaked us then like dogs;
So we didn't need no more;
But the swindle then that skin'd us
Lived its four years, but to die,
Then we licked the Locos soundly,
You remember—so do I.
Well remember, well remember,
What has been, can be done again
And we'll give the Lccos jessie
If then Whigs their ranks maintain;
Cause you know their hungry puppies
Cant all have a bone to gnaw;
And they'll curse and quit the party,
Because such knaves they never saw
I've spun my lay, so now good day,
For I must close my song, sir
Give a shilling = to show how willing,
To help tho boy along, sir.
'
VOL. 18, No. 1.
Uoutlimi eoutm n.
"MY MOTHER'S DEAD."
"Pm very, very lonely,
Alas, I cannot play;
I am so sad, I sit and weep
Thronghout the livelong day.
I miss dear mother's welcome,
Her light ham: on my head,
Ilor look of love, her tender word;
Alas, my mother's dead!
I have no heart to play alone;
To-day I thought try, ; .,
And got my little hOop to roll,
But All, it made me cry; .
For who will smile to see me come .
Now mother dear has gone,.
And look so kindly in my face,
And kiss her little son ?
I'llset my blessed Bible, •
•. And sit me down and read;
My mother said that precious book
Would prove a friend in need.
I seem to see dear mother now,
To hear her voice of love;
She. may be looking dowfi tin me,
From her bright home above.
SIM said I must come to her—
She cannot come to me:
Our Father, teach a little one
How he may come to thee,
For I am very lonely now,t.
Our Father, may I come,
And join my mother in the skies
And heaven shall be our home.
[From the Child's Paper.
Counsels to Ch
Love your father and mother. Who arc
so kind to you as your parents? Whotake,
so much pains to insructs you Who pick
vide food for you, and clothes, and warns
beds to sleep on at nihgt ? When you are
sick, and in pain, who pity you, and ten
derly wait upon you, and nurse you, and ;
pray to God to give you health, and
stTength, aiid.every good thing? If your.
parents aro sick, or in trouble, do all you,
can to comfort them. If they 4re poor,.
work very hard, that y6O may bo able to
assist them. Remember how much they
have done and suffered for you.
Love your brothers and sisters. Do,
not tease nor vex them, nor call thous
names; and never let your littfe hands be
raised to :strike them. If. they lave any
• thing which you would like to Lave, do nof.
be angry with than, or want to get it from
them. If you have any thing they like,
share it with them. Your parients grieve.
when they see you quarrel;..they love you.
all with dear love; and they. wish you to:,
love ono another, and to live in peace and
hirmony.
.Never tell ati unf.rutli. When you are
relating any thing that you have soon or
heard, tell it exactly as it was. 1)o not
alter or invent any part, to make, as you
may think, ti prettir story.: if you have
forgotten any part, say that you have for
gotten it.. Persons who love the truth
never tell a lie, even in jest.
Consider well before you make a promise..
If you say you will do a thing, and you do,
it not, yon will tell a lie; and who thee
will trust or believe you ?
When you have done wrong, do not de
ny it, even if you are afraid you will be
punished for it. If you are sorry for whit.
you have done, and try to do ,sq no ,more,
people will very seldom be angry with you
or punish you. They will love you for
speaking the . they will think tat :
they may believe what you say, since they
fled you will not tell a lie, even to hide a
fault, and to prevent yourselves from be
ing punched.
Never amuse yourselves with giving pain
to any body, not even to dumb creatures.
A great many animals are killed because
we want CiCir flesh for food; and a great
many are killed bcause, if we were to let
them live, they would do us harm; but I
Can see no reason why4ittle boys of girls
should kill flies, or pull off their wings or,
legs; or catch butterflies ' and crush them
to death; or steal young birds frpni they;.
soft, warm, comfortable tints; or Whip
boat horses till their sides bleed and are
very sore; or do any cruel actions.
. .
[G - I remember once sitting by the mar
gin of a stream, in one of the low shelter-.
ed valleys on Salisbury Plain, where the
monks of former ages had planted ohaples
and built hermits cells.,There was a lit-,
tie parish church uear, but, tall elms and.
quivering alders hid it, from the sight, when
all of a sudden, I was startled ty the sound
of a full organ pealing on the ear, accom
panied by tustlC
,voices, 44 the yfillingt
choir of village ;noidens and ehildreg,
rose, indeed "like an exhalation of rich
distilled perfume." Ihe dew, front a thou.-
sand pastures was sathered in its Bottum;
the silence of a thousand years spae in it.
It came upon the heart like the calm , beau
ty of death; fancy caught the sound, and
faith mounted on it to the skies. It filled.
the valley like a mist, and still poured out
ifs Ondlels chant, as it swelled,on the ear,
and wrapt me in a golden trance, drown
ing the noisy tumult of the world.—Hat.-
lilt.