BY J. A. HALL
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Vortical.
THE ;BHT-LAIIK.
DE JAMES 11000.
Bird of the wilderness,
Blithsome and numberless,
Light he thy tnatin o'er moorland and lea 1
Emblem of happiness !
Bless'd he thy dwelling-place !
0, to abide in the desert with thee I
Wild it thy lay, and loud,
Far in the downy cloud ;
Love given it energy, love gave it birth,
Where, on thy dewy wing,
Where net thou journeying?
Thy Icy is in heaven, thy love is on earth,
O'er fell and fountain sheen,
O'er moor and mountain green,
O'er the red streamer that heralds the day ;
Over the elondlet dim,
Over the rainbow's rim,
Musical cherub, hie, hie thee away
Then when the gloaming comes,
Low in the heather-blooms,
Sweet will the welcome and bed of luve be,
Emblem of happiness ! •
Blessid is the dwelling-place !
0, to abide In the de,ert with thee !
jyantfin Circle.
Literature of the Bible,
EY N. 11. GRIFFIN
The trav,ellor, wearied in his journey,
finds it pleasing and refreshing to stop by 1
the war, and contemplate the varied and 1
beautiful objects which present themselves
to view. The shady grove, the varied hues
an 1 tints which mantle the surrounding for
est, an I the bright canopy of the overshad
owinz heavens, all afford him tauter for
ple tsing and prostable diversion; they be- i
galls the weariness of I is way; the very
!lover which lifts its head by his path pleas
cc by its variety, while it instructs by the
wondrous wisdom which it exhibits. After
surveying for - a time the fair and wonderful,
an 1 releiving the pleasure and instruction ,
to be derive I from such a view, ho rises
refreshed, prepared for a vigorous renewal
of his journey. Like the traveller, we too,
when wearied by the various labors of life,
find it refreshing and profitable to turn
aside and spend our leisure hours in the
pleasures of literature, afforded us by the
press. An individual, after tasting the de
lights arising from works of genius, where
eloquence, thought and feeling render each
page instinct with life; after warming with
lively emotions and kindling into a glow of
fe :Hag under descriptions of the grand and
beautiful in nature; after expanding the soul
iu its conception of grandeur, majesty and
wisdom of God, rises up with renewed en
ergy, and with an elastic step pursues his
way. II urs thus spent. instead of unfit
tia.t us for the duties of life, inspity us with
greater ardor in their performance, and we
go on panting more and more after the
greatness and goodness upon which we have I
gazed; we feel a generous elevation of soul
whiA fits us for nobler notion in duty and
usefulness. This elevation is the invaria
ble accompaniment of the genuine pursuits
of lite.ature, and what dons not produce 1
this result . , is unworthy of the natne.
erature in its latitude may embrace every
veriaty of composition, ' , whether in religion
or in morals, in history or in philosophy, in
poetry or eloquence." It covers the whole
field which the human mind has explored.
I, however, at present use it rather to de
signate what is conimonly meant by polite
li orature; a species of composition confined
chiefly to poetry, eloquence and subjects of
taste awl elegance. To give an exaot de
finition of what is meant by it, would per
bads ba i upssible. Its general sense is
plain. What then are some Lf the chief
exoellenoiem of this species of writing 1 For
unfittobon
with these in mind, we shall be better able
to determine the claims of any book a lit
erary production.
The first excellence which lays a foun
dation for all others is thought—original
sober thought. Without this there may be
words elegantly arranged and musical in
the ear, which for a moment may charm
the mind; but on waking, it appears as a
dream—music and not thought. There
are those, who by a delicate play upon
words endeavor to atone for want of
thought: who abound more in illustrations
than ideas; who seem to imagine that a cer
tain felicity of expression, harmonious and
loud sounding words, constitute eloquence.
There are others who dance over their
empty pages without ever discovering their
want of meaning— so taken by the sound as
to forget the sense. They read page af
ter page, without perhaps receiving into
the mind one definite idea, and should one
inquire of them understandest thou what
'thou readest ? they would be speechless.
Language, to such, instead of being a me
dium of conveying ideas, is a kind of musi
, cal instrument to charm the ear.
Such persons care little for thought,
but with others, substantial thought con
stitutes the chief value of any composition.
The drapery in which it is clothed may be
a source of additional pleasure—a the
foliage of the forest throws over it a de
lightful aspect, which attracts and pleases.
So the language in which our thoughts are
dressed, gives them an attractiveness which
charms. But let the storm drive through
the forest and scatter its rich foliage on
the wings of the wind, leave it stripped
and naked, still all that is valuable re
mains; the trunk continues to look up in
the sky, and spread abroad its branches in
all their strength. In like manner divest
thought of -all the extraneous beau!) , with
which bright imagery may invest it, and
you leave it substantially the same. In
fact, the highest beauty is that which con
sists entkely in the idea—bereft of all
beauty of language. A heathen has al
ready remarked, what can be more sob
lime than the simple sentence, God said
"let there be light, and there was light."
What more so than Paul's ascription of
praise, "Now Unto the King eternal, in:
invisible, the only wise God, be
'glory and dominion forever."
Another element of literary excellence
is richness of imagery. This throws an
enchantment over thoughts which would
otherwise be dull and uninteresting; circa'
life and spirit to what without it would be
dead. It gilds the pages of ,an author
with brightness: chains the attention of the
reader, and fills him with pleasing coneep
dons. It is pleasant at any time, to look
at the mountain tops toward heaven, tuonu
meets of AI lolghty power, but far pleasan
ter is it when the rising or setting sun tips
their summits with a crown of glory. In
like manner, thoughts presented in homely
language please, but array them in the dra
pery which a lively imagination furnishes,
and their brightness will dazzle—they may
even assume a living form. In this lies
the. p wer of some public speakers; with
great deecriptiye talent, they paint their
ideas so vividly—the picture is so bright
and lively that for a moment they seem re
alities. It was so with the Roman ora
ors, with Patrick Henry and others.—
What gave these individuals such control
over an audience? The power of rich and
glowing description, they drew front the
chambers of the soul such splendid imagery
with which, to clothe their thoughts, that
men forgot themselves and were carried
away by their power. What but this
gives to thepoenis of Ossian their inimita
ble beauty? For example, his striking
apostrophe to the Sun, which begins, "Oh
thou that ro!lest in the heavens, round as
the shield of my fathers!"
Another excellence is the sublimity of
thought. There may be an abundanCe of becomes necessary for a hungry - and half
thought, beauty expressed, without sub- starved editor to dissolve the friendly bands,
limity. This imparts a higher, perhaps which have connected him with a band of
the highest grade of excellence. But few villainous patrons (!) and to assume among
writers have been able to rise to the sub- mankind that seperate and just station
lime. If for a moment they have done so, which his poverig and independence of spy
their flight has been short; like Dodaalas, it entitles him, accent respect for the opie
they have soon lost their wings and fallen. ions of his honest supporters requires that
Milton has perhaps more of genuine subli- he should declare the causes which have
mity than any other uninspired writer; his impelled him to the seperation.
flight is more even and uniform; so much We hold these truths to be self-evident
so, that the first two books of Paradise that editors wore created like other men,
Lost partake of it throughout, that they were endowed with certain natti-
Byron, toe, is frequently sublime. Yet ral propensities; that amongst them is a
his flight may well be compared to Mil- disposition to oat, drink, and keep them
ton's desoription of Satan's approach to selves comfortably clad—to secure these
this world to tempt its ruin: "Putting blessings, laws were instituted among , men'
swift
swift wing with thoughts inflamed of dark securing to the creditor his honest and just
design, he explores his solitary way; some- dues; but when a villainous $3OO exemp
times he scours the right hand coast, some- tion act becomes destructive of theSe ends,
1 times the left, now shaves with level wing it is our right to institute a new system,.
the deep, then soars up to the fiery con- laying its foundations in such principles as
cave towering high, through upper ether to us shall seem most likely to protect us
and surrounditio. a darkness." in future front all fraud and imposition.—
The last excellence of literature which I Prudence, indeed, will dictate that friend
shall name is, that its tendency be saints,' ship long established should not be sever
ry: There way be thought, mighty and od for light and transient causes; and so
overwhelming, yet pregnant with death. A cordingly all experience has shown that
mind of strong and vig,rous powers, way- editors are more disposed to suffer while
wardly inclined, may pour itself forth in evils are sufferable, than to right them
floods of thought, which instead of tasting selves by abolishing the forma to which
lof the sweetneee of the fountain of living they are accustomed. Bnt when long stan-
HUNTINGDON, PA., WEDNESDAY, MARCH 2, 1853.
waters, shall be full of the bitterness of ' •
death. It way flash and glitter, but it will .
be an unnatural glare, to be dreaded rath- 4
er than courted. As Napoleon looked up- I
on the city of Moscow on fire, the sublinii
ty of the scene drew from him the emphat- •
is words, "au ocean of flame." There was •
a grandeur, but it was the grandeur of I
desolation. Like that is thought when
sublimely wicked. It mounts up, if I may I
accommodate the language of another to
my purposes, "It mounts up, and with the I I
thunder talks as friend to friend, and I
weaves its garlands of the lightning's wing,
yet spreads destruction where it goes. All
thoughts, all maxims sacred and profane,
all seasons, time, eternity, all that is ha
tred, all that is ear, all that is hoped, and
all that is feared by man, it has tossed
about as tempest-withered leaves, then smi
ling, looked upon the wreck it made." The
tendency of literature is an essential ele
ment in estimating its value ; a literature
which does not bless mankind, which does
not fill the mind with lofty conceptions and
aspirations after good, and the heart with
kind and generous emotions, is of no value,
however radiant and sparkling with th'ght;
a literature which desolates and blasts the
soul and cuts it from the sympathies of
life, should be avoided as one would avoid
plunging into an ocean of flame.
Thought, richness of imagery, sublimity
and good moral tendency, aro then the
cheif excellenceis of literature. And where
these are found combined, there is the
greatest excellence, nil matter where it may
be. The author who possesses them in the
highest degree, most deserves our attention
in a literary point of view. Does the read
er wish to improve his style or cultivate
his imagination, that is the author to be
studied. Would he fill his wind with just
thoughts and his heart with kind feelings,
that is the anther he needs. As to the
question, what ono author actually embod
ies most of these excellencies, there will
doubtless be a diversity of opinion. Some
will say Milton, and others Scott, some
the profane Billwer, whose strength con
sists in portraying the dark fiend-like pas
sions of our nature, in such a way as to
hide their enormity; others misanthropic
Byron. Such is not our opinon. There has
fallen within the limits of our reader, a
book far surpassing these. It bears the
marks of age, a precious relic which has
lived through the fires so often kindled fur
its de,truction. It takes precedence of
Milton and Byron, of Virgil and Homer in
point of age, being in part, at least, bun
' dreils of years older than any other author
now extant. At first view this book pre
. emits nothing striking or attractive, but
those who carefully read its pages will
soon discover wisdom and beauty unsurpags
• I ed. Said one who hail studied the litera
ture of twenty-eight different languages,
i ancient and modern, Sir William Jones.—
' "It contains more exquisite beauty, purer
• morality, more important history, and finer
straines of both poetry and eloquence than
' can be collected within the same compass
I in all other books ever composed in any
age, or in any idiom." It is a book writ
' ten not by any one author, nor at one time.
Its authors tire various and its time as,
• much so. Law-givers and poets, kings
• and preists ' prophets and epos- '
ties have
recorded their collected wisdom, and God
I himself has revealed the bright glories of
the future world on the pages of Tim Bible.
- - - -
141tocellantotto.
A Printer's Declaration,
In the last number of the Carlisle Dem
ocrat, General Boyer releases himself from
those who have taken his paper, without
ever intending to pay for it, in the follow
inn.' novel and bold Declaration:
When is the course of rascally events it
ding abuses, and a total disregard for eve
ry generous feeling having in view the same
object, evinces a design to reduce to abso
lute starvation him who has labored for
years to supply them with their mental ail
ment, it is his right, it is his duty to repu
diate friendships ) and provide new guards
for his future security. The history of
these outlaws is a history of repeated inju
ries and insults, all having indirect object
the pecuniary destruction of their best
friend and benefactor. To prove this, let
facts be submitted to a candid mind.
They have refused time and again to pay
us the first continental "dingbat" although
repeatedly called upon to do so.
They have refused to supply us with
wood, corn, oats, potatoes, beans, peas,
pork, and pou!try—although our appeals
were long, loud and pathetic—fixens inesti
mable to us, and formidable to rascals only.
They have refused to supply us with any
aid whatsoever, whereby to facilitate our,
business operations : thus rendering us in
a measure incapable of pursuing with a
light heart and buoyant spirits our legiti
mate business; the office in the meantime,
exposed to all the danger of an invasion
from without and convulsions within.
They have endeavored to prevent the
population of these States, by depriving us
of the means necessary to feed and clothe
the young Narragansetts according to our
desires.
They have combined with others, to sub
ject us to the worst grievances, foreign to
our good nature, and unacknowledged by
our laws.
For cutting off our trade with paper ma
kers :
For imposing debts on us without our
consent :
For depriving us, in many oases, of ben
efits of market money.
- -
They have plundered our pockets, cheat
ed our creditors, "burnt cur fingers," and
done sundry other cruel and barbarMis
acts, unworthy the character of gentlemen.
In every stave of these oppressions we
have petitioned in the most humble terms;
our repeated petitions have been answered
only by repeated neglect and consequent
injury. Men whrse characters are thus
marked by acts which may define a set of
plt.mlering scamps, are unfit longer to be
the recipients of our favor.
Nor have we been wanting in attention
to these men : we have warned them from
time to time through the paper and by let
ter of a "Black List." We have reminded
them of our circumstances—of our emigra
tion and settlement in Carlisle. We have
appealed to their sense of justice and mag
nanimity, and then we have conjured them
by all the ties f good fellowship, to send
us the "Almighty Dollar," or we would
inevitably interrupt our connection and
correspondence with them. But they have
been deaf to the of voice justice, reason and
humanity. We must, therefote, acquiece
in the necessity which denounces our sepa
ration, and hold them as we do all others
like them, scamps when they don't pay us,
when they do, the best of clover fellows
and good citizens.
We, therefore, the editor of the Antirican
Democrat, appealing to all honest men for
the rectitude of our intentions, do in the
name and by the authority of our "better
half," and "nine small children with one
on the bosom,' soleMnly publish and declare
that these men arc, and of right ought to be
stricken from our list of subscribers ; and
that all connectkn between them and us is,
and (right to be totally dissolved. And, for
the support of this Declaration, with a firm
reliance on the protection of our honest pa
trons, we solemnly pledge renewed exertions
to our pen, our paste-pot,and noble scissors.
Female Nobily.
A writer in Chambers' London Journal,
thus beautifully paints true female nobility:
The woman, poor and ill clad us she may
be, who balances her income and her ex
penditure, who toils and sweats in unrepi
ping mood among her well trained children,
and presents them morning and evening as
offsprings of love in rosy health and cheer
ful cleanliness,—is the most exalted of her
sex. Before her shall the proudest dame
bow her jeweled head, and the bliss of a
happy heart shall dwell with her forever.
If there is one prospect dearer than anoth
er to the soul of man—if there is one act
more likely than another to bend the
proud, and inspire the broken heart—it is
for a smiling wife to meet her husband at
the door with his host of happy children.
how it stirs up the blood of an exhausted
man when he hears the rush of many feet
upon the stair-ease—when the crow and
carol of their young yeices mix in glad con
fusion, and the smallest mount or sink into
his arms amidst a mirthful shout.
Tr Many to woman had lather have
any of their good tiimilitios slighted, than
their beauty. Yet that is the most incon
siderate accomplishment of a woman of
real merit.
Qom' When is a blacksmith in danger of
raising a row in the alphabet 1
When he makee A poke R and shove L.
( i
(6‘ lift I
-ft i o I 1,
Self-Reliance.
The following article will be read with
interest. We clip it from the Mobilo Re
gis t er.
If our young men miscarry at their first
enterprise, they lose all heart. If the
young merchant fails, men say he is ruin
ed. If the finest genius studies at one of
our colleges, and is not installed in any of
fice in one year afterward in the city or
suburbs of Boston or New York, it seems
to his friends and to himself that he is
right in being disheartened, and in com
plaining the rest of his life. A sturdy lad
from New Hampshire or Vermont, who in
turn tries all the professions, who teams
it, farms it, peddles, keeps a school,
preaches, edits a newspaper, goes to Con
gress, uys a township, and so forth, in
successive years, and like a cat, always
falls on his feet, is worth a hundred of
these city dolls. lie walks abreast with
his days, and feels no shame in not study
ing a profession, for he does not postpone
his life, but lives already. He has not one
chance, but a hundred chances. Let a
stoic arise who shall reveal the resources
of man, and tell men they are leaning wil
lows, but can and must detach themselves;
and with the exercise of self-trust, new
powers shall appear; that the man is the
word made flesh, born to shed heal
ing to the nations, that ho should be
ashamed of our compassion, and that the
moment he acts for himself, tossing the
laws, the books, idolatries, and customs
out of the window—we pity him no more
but thank and revere him—and that teach
er shall restore the life of map to splendor,
and make his name dear to all history.
It is easy to see that a greater self7reli
ance—a new respect for the, divinity in
man—must work a revolution in all the
offices and relations of men; in their reli
gion; in their education; in their associa
tions, in their property; in their specula
tive views.
The Baby.
By FANNY FERN.
"Baby-carts on narrow sidewalks are
awful bores, especially to a hurried busi
ness man."
Sre they? Suppose you and a certain
pair of blue eyes, that you would give half
your patrimony to win, were joint propri
etors of that baby ! I shouldn't dare to
stand very near you, and call it "a nuis
ance." It's all very well for bachelors to
turn up their single blessel noses at these
little dimpled Cupids: but just, wait till
their time comes ! See 'em, the minute
their name is written "Papa," pull up ;
their divides, and strut off down street, as
if the Commonwealth owed them a pen
sion! When they enter the offiae, see
their old married partner (to whom babies
have long since ceased to be a novelty)
laugh in his sleeve at the new-fledged dig
nity with whloli nod baby's advent is an
nounced ! How perfectly astonished they
feel that they should have ben so infatua
ted as not to perceive that a man is a per
fect cypher till lie is at the head of a fetid
ly ! How fraquently one may see them
now, looking in at the shop windows, with
intense interest, at little hats, coral and
bells, and baby-jumpers. How they love
to come home to dinner, and press that lit
tle velvet cheek to their business faces. ,
Was there ever any music half ao sweet
to their oar, as its first lisped "papa?"
Oh how closely and imperceptibly, one by
one, that little plant winds its tendrils
round the parent stem ' How anxiously
they hang over its cradle when the cheek
flushes and the lip is fever-parched; and
how wide, and deep, and long a shadow in
their happy homes, its little grave would
Cast!
MY DEAR ETR, depend upon ti, one's
own baby is never a "nuisanca." Love
heralds its birth !—Olave Branch.
MAINE AND RIIODE ISLAND SENATORS.
—No election for a U. S. Senator, has ta
ken place in either of these two States,
and the probability is, that in both, an
election will be postponed until the meet
ing of the nest Legislature.
11_,The total vote for Mayor of Laneas
ter, at the recent election, was 1661.
Christian Kieffer, Independant, was elect
ed by a majority of 761 over the Demo
-Icratic candidate.
.(Gen. Scott received at the late Pre
sidential election, 1,383,537 votes being
121,293 more than Gen. Taylor rececived
in '4B. The total vote cast in '52 was 3,-
124,378, being 246,962 more than in '4B.
(cr On the 9th inst., Judge Bartley
became Chief Justice of the Supreme
Court of Ohio—and that Court stands
thus—Bartley, Chief Justice, Judges Cor
win, Thurman, Ramsey and Caldwell.
T.:rThe Washington Union, in a late ar
ticle declared that it was "a duty to tell
the truth." To this the Lenisville Jour
nal retorts,' , .true, it is a specific duty.
but as Locofocoe are opposed to all such
dude', on principle, the obligation is eel
dom regarded by them." A cayital <hit.'
VOL. 18, NO. 9.
youtior
TO LILIAN. MAT.
BY LILY,
Thank thee, Minstrel, for the musk
Softly, sweetly floating here,
Liniering 'round my heart like spirit
Whisp'ringe on the evening air,
'Till each feeling, deeply glowing
With its touch, would hack to thee
In echoes send thy song of sweetness—
Gushing, heart•wartn melody.
Breathe, when shades are drooping o'er thee,
Thy heart's saddest notes to mine,
For my joys are linked with sorrow,
Closely, Minstrel, as Are thine,
Oh ! that all thy gloom* would vanish—
Sing thy gladness then to ma—
in my heart each note will trer
Find a chord of sympathy,
Far upon the mist-hung future
Be thy music borne along,
Till the loving list the cadence
Of thy tuneful spirit's song,
When it floats through sunny Eden
In entrancing melody,
While in mingling strains of sweetness,
Angel harps play symphony.
"Friend Don't Sweat."
'Upon going into a wagon shop a few
days since, the first thing that met our
gaze was the abode sentence, printed in
large capitals, and posted up in a con
spicuous place.
Those 'three short words were sugges
tive:
First, the undoubted proof that some
one connected with the shop was a man
who had not forgotten God's injunction,
not to take his name in vain.
Second, they showed that ho wished
others to remember the'sante injunction. •
And third, they. showed, we thought,
that he had taken a very good way to give
them a warning to that effect. There was
nothing harsh about it—perfectly Cool
and utild—indeed egmething Pleasant—
'Friend don't swear,', - just as though a pe
culiar interest was felt in each individual
who might read it, it might have read—
'No Swearing Allowed in this Room—All
Profanity forbidden here,' or any other
peremptory command, bnt wo'doubt wheth
er either would have accomplished as much
as the request; 'Friend, Don'tSwear.'--
Would it not be well if, in reproving all
kinds of iniquity, we were to use more
mildness and not so much denunciation ?
One thing we particularly noticed about
this little sentence was, that it never seem
ed to countenance, in the least, any spe
cies of profanity or irreverence. we
have known some good men, indeed, Chris
tian men, whq, of course, would not for the
I world swear themselves, but who neverthe
less would seem much delighted with a
well-told story, even though it abounded
in oaths, and would laugh heartily at a
joke, even though a serious subject lay at
the bottom of it. But this sentence, on the
contrary, had the same solemn, gentle ad
monition for all such—'Friend,
Swear.' We were informed that the effect
of the silent yet ever-speaking little sen
tence of truth, was most happy; that al
though frequented by all classes of men, an
oath was rarely heard in the shop..
As we turned to leave, we could not
but wish that those three Words be
posted up in every place Otpublic
• or resort—in all our Shona—on beitrd our
steamboats—in our Railroad Cars, and
even in our Legislative Halls.
But, above al,wo long for such a purity
of public sentfinda, that the face of every
respectable man should bear on its very
lineaments such a legibletind tinialstaka
ble—Triend, don't Swear,' as should ef
fectually awe down the terrible profanity
which is now so all-abounding—that the
awful swearing, because of which the land
mourneth, might entirely Mid forever
cease.—New York Evangelist.
A hint to the Young,
To the question, what had boon the stu
dios by which his style was formetli-Daniel
Webster once remarked, "When t was a
young wan, a student in college, I deliver
ed a Fourth of July oration. My friends
thought, so well of it that they requested a
copy for the press. It waa :printed, find I
have a oopy of it now, the only copy in ex
istence. (In this he was mistaken.) Jo
seph Bennie, a writer of great reputation
at that time, wrote a review in a literary
paper which ho then edited. Ho praised
parts of the oration 119 vigOrous and elo
quent; but other parts he criticised severe
ly, and said they
:were were emptiness.—
' thought his criticism was file; and I
resolved that whatever ciao should be said
of my style, from that glide forth, there
should bo no emptiness in it. I read snob
English Writers as fell in toy way—partic
ularly Addison— , with great care. Besides,
I remembered that I bad my bread to earn
by addressing the understanding of common
wen—by convincing juries—and that I
must use language perfectly intelligible to
them. You will, therefore, find in my
speeches to juries, no bird words, no Latin
phrases, no fieri facial; and that is the
seorot of my style, if I have any."