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' mem ** ' . ?+ - . ,::p % . .. ?} r - .<* v- '-^y& *p|. ?- - ' - - -r Vv" ' "v THE CAMDEN JOURNAL. [NEWSERIES] VOL. II. CAMDEN, SOUTH CAROLINA, WEDNESDAY, AUGUST It, 1841. NO,36. ' ^ Published every Wednesday Morning, THOMAS W. PEGUES, At three dollars in advance, three dollars and fifty centa in six months; or four dollars at the expi^ ration of the year. jjjSdjdrertisemcnts inserted at 75 cents per square foi .firsthand 37 1-2 for each subsequent insertion.? number of insertions to be noted on all advertise ^vTOOpta, or they will be published until orderod to be discontinued, and charged accordingly. One dollai . Jper sqQare wiU be charged for a single insertion. "Semimonthly, Monthly and Quarterly advertisewill Ka ohartrod the same as new ones each in tertion. All Obituary Notices exceeding six linos, and ^Communications recommending Candidates for public Offices of profit or trust?or puffing exhibitions, f "Will bo charged as advertisements. Accounts for Advertising and Job Work will be presented for payment quarterly. UTAH Letters by mail must be post paid to in^ sure punctual attention. POETRY. From the Madisoniart. : MARGARET DAVIDSON. The following beautiful and touching lines were written by Miss Maroaret Davidson, of Saratoga, a short time.before her death. Afler she had been inform !&lbiat"vtt-coURultation of physicians had pro. nounced her cosdto be hopeless," and that she could not live much longer," her mother one day sitting . ,by her side, took her trembling, wasted hand, and said to her in a low, half stifled voice, " Oh, Mag. . .. gyl-shall I never have another line penned by this hand?*' "-^'r "Yes dearest mother" was the reply, "yes, you v?iL,-n i. ir? ? /tnir nr sn. slip hnnd. IQBIi UAVD ailUWJUi| wiiMf ? v. ?f ? fy, ?d to her mother the following stanzas, the last she ever wrote: P>ir Oh mother! would the power were mine, .To wake the strains thou lov'st to hear, r ^ And breathe each trembling new born thought \'Sy ' Within thy fondly list'uing ear, As when in days of health and glee, fi?.'-, rMy hopes and fancies wander'd free! 'vs.- But, mother now; a shade hath past Atiiwart my brightest visions here; A cloud of darkest gloom has wrapt The romnant of my brief career; No song?no echo can I win? The sparkling fount hath dried within! **? * W- . The torch of earthly hope burns dim, And f?ncy spreads her wing no more; And oh, liovv vain and trivial seem The pleasures that I prized before. My soul with trembling steps and slow, Is struggling on through doubt and etrife; Oh! may it prove as time rolls on, The pathway to eternal life! ' * i. , - - " Then when my cares and fears are o'er, I'll sing thee as in "days of yore." I said that hope had passed from earth? Twas but to fold her wings in heaven, To whisper of the soul's new birth, Of sinners saved, and sins forgiven; When mine are washed in tears away, Then shall my spirit swell my lay. - ' o_.l _ka.ll imi/la mv ?n\i] above. yi^4tiigu uuu aauii ?w.v.w ..v , With the soft chords of heavenly love, When the vain cares of earth depart, And tuneful voices swell mj heart, r c - r Then shall each word, each note I raise, c'_Burst forth in pealing hymns of praiso, . j And all?not offered at His shrine, v Dear "mother?I will place on thine! "miscellaneous. a short patent sermon. BY DOW, JR. Text.?Here shines the sun of Freedom x ^ Forever o'er the deep, ? - ? Where Freedom's heroes by the shoro In peaceful glory sleep; ih,'. And deeds of proud and high cmprizo In evory breeze aro told, S&Y" The everlasting tribute i?j|E To hearts that now are cold. KL -5. Mrs. Ellen. W My Hearers?You have vegetated so r ""rapidly, and have trown up so rank beneath the genial sun of Freedom, that EL ^pu don't like to bend in submission to the \ gate, nor allow a storm to pass by withjfe||.Qut grumbling, fretting and scolding a^ feout it. You seem to think that because it fe you are born into the world without fetters, Providence, chance or fortune has ?S- hueinnrc (a fliPAW D StrflW in VAIIr tiroir r UV UUOIUUOO I'/ UHV.? v.v ... ^ VU| TT UJ J rrM^even ifvy?u arc tophet-bent on rascality, you had never known what freedom was, you would have bggn contented; but >T ^ now you would'nt be satisfied if you were \ let loose in the boundless paradise of ^ heaven, and had full permission to pluck, plunder and destroy, No?you would complain, because the rose bore thorns, peaches had stones, and apples contained cores. There is no such thing as filling s Ahe bottomless pit of man's unhallowed V desires. The more you have, the more you want, and the more you want, the less you think you have. You neecFnt jgpt. ithink, my friends, that, because you dwell a land of freedom, you can violate the r beautiful Goddess of Liberty, and rob F her of all her virgin charms with impunity; for-the cowskin of the law is sometimes * applied to the back of villainy, and it is apt to smart a few, unless protested by an armor of silver or gold. You, my de^ mocratic republican hearers, are for the !**. v \ . - most part poor, and, therefore, ought to I be careful how you cut shindies under the I broad sword of (I wish I could say impar- i tial) justice, that hangs over your heads i by a single hair. If you only had a I superfluity of lucre, you might go your i lengths at spreeing it: kick up your heels I ?upset all the dishes on the table of our I republic, and hold a glorious jollification ' at the expense of Uncle Sam. Now ' situated as you are, in moderate circum- i stances, and within limited means, you I ought to cut your cloth of pride according- ] I ly, and not swell out so as to snap your < purse strings and be done up forever.? i I don't like to spe a person of more osten- i tation than money or brainc, take a stand < in the broad field of independence, put ^ his arms akimbo, and hit all sides of crea- 1 tion with his elbows in trying to turn round. 3 I* ko r?Af Anltf moo r? f ( II JUUH9 IU II1C ao UlUUgll 11^ nui untj UIV/UUI ^ lo enjoy, but to monopolize and desecrate i that sacred liberty which our American fa- ? thers tugged, toiled, sweat, fought'bled and f died to obtain for us all. Yes, they died '< for us?they immolated themselves upon < their country's alter?they suffered mar- 1 tyrdom for the holy cause of Freedom? i they threw their bodies on the funeral pyre i or oppression, gave Daca meir spirits uuo f. the hands of the Omnipotent, deposited < their natnes and their virtues in the hearts i of their countrymen, and scattered their t ashes upon a free and independent soil.? c The American temple of liberty, my a friends, is built upon the bones ofits foun- ' ders the very dust we tread upon contains * particles of glory and renown?and the t waves of the ocean have rolled out the 1 bones of its valliant dead to bleach upon r republican sand. Every breeze has a I tongue to speak of the illustrious deeds t accomplished by departed heroes: little c brooks babble the name of Freedom in c ecstacies, and the mighty cataract thunders c forth the eloquence, majesty and might of 1 her children. On Mount Vernon, where 1 great Washington reposes in the lap of 1 death and in the bosom of his family, eter- 1 nal peace and quietness prevail. There the willow bends, emblamatical of a nation's sorrow?there tributes are left as evidences of a nation's respect?. there flowers bloom as tokens of heavenly favor and there the laurel rear* its -?vetgreen leaves, symbolical of his own wide spread c fame and transcendant worth. O, my ( friends! he was a person whose like we f never shall behold again! it is surprising a U/vaai m/nUIa M fAlvmA AAlilrl natAM l>AtfA konn f iiuwau uuuic a lauu^uuuiu cvu uavc utun manufactured out of common material! v It were an insult to call him mortal, and t profanity to look upon him as divine.? 1 Now, since he has disolved, his spirit in- t habits two worlds?one above, where 2 everlasting freedom is, and ours here be- > low, where he planted the young shrub 1 of Liberty, and lived to see millions repose t beneath its sheltering branches. There t was more virtue in an ounce of his clay, than in the whole mn.ss of all distinguish- c ed heroes, warriors and statesmen, that r ever lived from the creation of the world c up to the present time?including General ^ Jackson with the rest. * My hearers?you live where the sun of i freedom shines down upon an unmortgag- 1 ed soil, and beneath its productive rays ? start up the shoots of prosperity, happi- } ness ana anunaance; ana still l aont De- ? lieve you are satisfied: you want to enjoy s more liberty still. You are allowed to get into a sugar cask, there gorge till you make r yourselves sick, and then complain that all r the luxuries of this world are not fit to lay f before a hungry dog. You musn't sup- ' pose, either, that in a land of liberty, you f have a right to knock a man down in the s street; because that is partial liberty you take it all to yourself and allow none for t others. I advise you to think over these n things between now and next Sund -y, t and act upon them. If you only grow a r little wiser and better each week, I think e I can make you become respectable by h the time that I am called upon to cease t my labors here, and pack up my duds of a mortality for a journey beyond the grave, t So mote it be! n From the Baltimore Clipper t WANT OF TIME. t< It is very customary for persons to tl aDolorriro for omissions of dutv bv nlead- a ing want of time. They promise them- ii selves that at a future day they will have c more leisure, and therefore postpone"to a p more convenient season"what should be rr done at once. There are few individu- a; als who have not been guilty of this censu rable procrastination. We have known V those who had furnished themselves with a valuable books, and yet never read a vol- c< ume?for want of time. But those same a men we have seen idle for hours together, fr The journey of life is too short to misapply ir time. All men who have attained distinc- d tion have had to labor diligently in their si vocation. The minister who has no time a to study his subject, will fail to impart in- a struction?and the attorney who alleges it want of time as an excuse for the loss of c Ins case, will not be overburthened with business. Jh all concerns of life, prompt action is essential to success. The blacksmith who pauses between the strokes of bis hammer to talk politics, will find his iron cool, and will soon want time to pay bis debts. It would surprise any man to bave the amount of time which he has wilfully lost summed up; but then, what we lose to day we resolve to make up tomorrow; but unfortunately the morrow orings its excuse for further postponement. It is in the power of every man by a proper and diligent application of his time to improve his condition; and what is termed misfortune can generally be graced to our )wn negligence or imprudence,. A youth will spena hours in an oyster house or avern in tinimproving conversation, and ^et complain that he can find no time to cultivate his mind. Men from the most ndigent condition have risen to wealth md importance by the proper use of time md their own energies; and what one has ichieved can be done by another in most :ases. Man cannot remain stationary; )ut must either advance orretrogadc; and dlenes is the first backward step; for an die man can never advance. It is of the greatest importance then, to be constantly iccupied, mentally or phisically. It is n vain that the young promise themselves, hat in after life they will make up for the ** - -r ^i. aL hm lenciencies 01 meir youin. ? nvy uugui is well expect to reap without sowing.? The disposition to procrastinate in youth, vill scarcely be corrected by age, when ime seems to fly with increased velocity, i Ic who is slothful when young, will be I agged when old, and such have the poorlouse as their portiop. It is a great misake to suppose that lost time can be re:overed, for the useful improvement of svery moment of our time is a duty. We < lo not mean that men shall be geared up I ike horses, and never be relieved from 1 larness. Relaxation is as necessary as , abor,and it can be indulged in without!, osing time. From theSouthern Christian Advocate. NARRATIVE OF SERGEANT EVERHEART. A SCRAP OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION. ' I have often heard it said that the men! if the-revolution were a peculiar class. )ne thing is evident, they were eminently itted for the work which providence had tssigned them. They are now nearly exinct, and many of-the interesting facts vhich occured in their eventful history tave passed away. Could the facts ouching their noble bearing and personal >ravery be gathered up, and thrown into i separate volume, succeeding generations vould read it with profitable delight.? j Svery attempt to resciae from oblivion, ineresting passages of those times, should >e encouraged. The writer of this sketch was well ac}uainted with Sergeant Everhcart. I have idden with him, and marked the superiirityof his horsemanship. I have conversed with him, and noticed the strong vein of common sense which ran through lis remarks. He was a German, rather ibove the ordinary size, and seemed formid for strength and activity. When 1 mew him, he was a truly pious local minster of the Methodist Episcopal Church; ind such he lived and died. The substance of what I am about to elate was communicated to a brother ninister by Father Everheart himself; and rom him I received it. I think, from the mprcssion made on my mind, that the acts may be safely relied upon as subtantially correct The Seanrentbelonged to Col. Washing on*s troop of horse; and a braver man icver backed a steed or drew a sword in ' he cause of libei ty. In an enterprise that J equired despatch he was usually select- ! d; and riding a horse of noble powers, lis common course was to dart into the hickest of the fight, fearless alike of limb, ! indoflife. He had received seventeen ssl- 1 ?re wounds; and these were the shining ' >iarkso( his valorous deeds. < The incident which lam about to relate J ook place in a recounter between Tarl011 and Washington. On the evening of ( he day before the battle, Col. Washington { nd others of his staff were seen examin- 1 ig with critical exactness the circumja- 2 ent grounds. They were in council, and ^ reparing for the worst; for the British ar- 1 ly was not far distant; and a contest was t nticipated. v After the officers had dispersed, Col. a Vashingtou rode up to his brave troop, & v ailing Sergeant Everheart by name, s ommunicated to him the following facts nd orders. "Sergeant, we have learned h om prettty good authority that the enemy h . I I.: ntlnnlr .,nnn I C F uenus iiiatt.111^ an ana^rv upnu us uciure 1 ay in the morning. Now I wish you to 1 sleet seventeen men and take your station v t the blacksmith shop on the main road, v nd do your best to throw their van guard I ito confusion. Keep them back if you ? an until day dawns, and we shall be ready r to meet them. The Sergeant bowed assent, and wheeling off respectfully from his superior in office, soon began to adjust himself to the task assigned him. The men were presently selected. One small difficulty however occurred in the selection. The number designed was seventeen, but eighteen had volunteered. A trooper leaping from his horse,and snatching up a chip from the ground, cried out to his contending comrade,"wet or dry ." The case being thus decided, off they started with Everheart at their head, to their position at the blacksmith's shop. The night was rather dark; and the little band waftgd in silence and breathless anxietyTorthe approach of the enemy. At length before the day began to dawn, the noise of the clattering scabbards, and prancing hoofs of the advancing cavalry was heard in the distance. On they camp not ciionprtinnr thnt it would be ne cessary for them either to face or feel a broad sword until they had reached the plain. All of a sudden, the Sergeant gave the word of command in his half German and half English style, "Sharge, Sharge!" and in an instant" the van guard was thrown into confusion. In the scuffle, a British trooper was cut off from his associates and supposing himself surrounded by the Americans, cried most lustily for "quater, quarter." The Sergeant's reply was, "Yes quarter him, Remember Monck's corner." the fellow, however, -?-? km nnonrva I mauc ma It was thought best not to push the matter too far lest the smallness of their numbers should be discovered. But as daylight had not appeared. Everheart concluded that by retreating to his position and awaiting their return, he could give them another brush. He did so, and the enemy advanced, in good order sword in hand. I The directions were uNow,mypravepoys, vcn I dosh gf de vord, skarge, den every von of you .-must begin to yelp and hotel just like de Inshuns, and den dat will frighten de bosses so dat dea will run ojf' mid de riders.* The sagacious calculations of the Sergeant was verified to the letter The discordant notes of so many voices fi-ightened the chargers worse than the roar of cannon. The men were wiiling to obey their officers; but the horses would not obey the men. They snorted and bounded and ran; whilst the Sergeant and his company pounced upon them with almost the impetuosity of a storm. Forgetting the smallness of their numbers, they thought themselves for the moment, "nnC-?t* a Jinet nf > ?// rnn/.v. and thfiV OllUUgll J '-'I U (ll/oc \JJ ' VU> wwtvwy ?- J were hurried on until they got into difficulties. A trooper of the Sergeant's band was so severely wounded under the right arm that when he raised it, the blood spouted out like water from a fountajn! "Fall pack, fall pack," cried Everheart to his brave associate. This he declared most solemnly he would never do while he had a drop in his veins. Day by this time had dawned fully; and the Sergeant having led the way for his brethcrn in arms, soon found himself hemmed in on every side by overwhelming numbers. Utterly unableto extricate himself, he reluctantly sung out for "quaters." " Yes quater him." "Finding that I ' as *o have mo quater; I reigned up old "bald face" gafe him de spur, and while de proat sords came down upon my heat like trum-sticks, I cut a lane trough de whole pritish line, and just as I vas about to be free again, mine bait horse was shot from under me and down I came." At this juncture a British subaltern stepped up, and saluted him with," how are you, Ser.ron r, t pnnrl,n.|,do pt 7" tilp fpnlv whs /filial L XJ TCI UUi IIVUI l>? ft l*V WJ/ 'J v V*WJ yvj?v~ ling his own words,) You see how 1 am all blood and wounts?"Where is your bald horse?" You shot him just now, or you would not see me here. "Well that bald horse gave me the greatest chase I ever had iu my ife." The way of it was this. The ofii:er some time before had climbed a pine ,.ee that he might take an observation.? The Sergeant happened to be in the top )f another some distance off, for the same jurpose, and having espied the red coat, le hastened down as quick as he could, md took after him. The other, however, lad got the start. It was a hard chase; he Sergeant could easily have shot him j tut this he would not do; his only object, vas to maim him, that he might bring him 1 : prisoner of war. Now the Sergeant i vas at his heels, and reaching over to i trike his sword arm. Thpn attain the Englishman would give < , *" ~0 o r is horse the spur and slip away from i im. The chase continued until our hero an within gun-shot of the British army, c This was the man to whom the Sergeant ras committed in custody. In the mean i rhileCol. Tarlton stepped up to them, a ['his said the officer is Col. Tarlton. The j Jergeant strutted like a game fowl, and f eplicd, "Tftitejs Sergeant JEverheart!w?1 s being determined to introduce himself, a?- > ~?| the officer had failed to do so. Tarltoii' seemed diverted at his spunk, and looking the Sergeant in the face,asked?"Doyou think that Washington will^fight me?" This was almost too much to Be borne; he put his arms a kimbb, andr giving the Col. V -V a glance of his eye, now fired with indignation, he replied with peculiar emphasis, "Fight you, sir: fight you, sir!" making a ( ;1 significant pause, and tossing up his head. . fjfi Would you fight me? was the next (juesr* tion. Quick as thought he answered,. . "mine Got give me mine sord, and I fight you now" ? _ - ' * Soon after this interview the battle com- - V menced. The American horse with an enthusiasm that the love. of lihArtv alnnp jK can inspire, presently turned the fate oflhe. day. Clouds of dust were seen rising at ^ a distance. The Sergeant and his attendant were silting on a largo log, which had * ^ fallen across the road, when the question^ % was asked. "What does all that mean?."! "Mean," said Everheart,"W2iy it meccak _ Washington is giffin it to him, and I am- i glut of it." Down they came like the^ rush of a tornado, and as they^neared the spot where the two were sitUng^t^ officer remarked,"we must getUjyaySsfitok&iJir, will beoverus." You may, ifyou but I shant." Finally, the Sergeant:pi ""^T left alone, his keeper having fled for safetv. .. It was manifest they would be over the ^ * log, but Everheart had formed liis plat*<BfiF>;.l which was to lay himself lengthwise undcr^ its projecting side so that they might-pfljggg over him, without observing,or injury. It so happened that so$f*l5ne, dropped a pistol near the spot <5pne ??e*> geant's retreat, he extended his nandrand seized it; but did nofknowjyheth^rit was loaded or not. Just at tfitit moment a British horseman rode up to the log. The > Sergeant started up front his horizontal position, and pointing the pistol at: bis ^ ! breast, cried, outStUliver, or you are lead in man."?No sooner said than done: the .horseman dismounted, yieldingltis place . j t'6 the Sergeant, who rode in triumph, andripwfT I joined his billows, and then fought the battle out. This soldier of the revolution, finally * honamp a sn'Hipr nf I hp anH havinnr ^ - w. settled in Middietown Valley, Md., he *. there spent the balance of his days. The i last time I saw him, was at a Camp MeetgJfr. ' ing, not far from his residence. He old and feeble, but happy in GQd"3na Redeemer. Once, and only once during ; our exercis-'s, did he attempt to officiate. When he rose iti the stand every oye wast upon him, and having delivered his message with a feeble and tremulous voice, he took his seat, leaving nearly, the whole au- ^ diencc in tears. It is pleasant^/or me think of former associations. If'4s^rig&S&* . santer still to contemplate the periocn?|Ht. they shall all be renewed, never agan^WHfiyL be marred by circumstances, disturbed by^!y^l distance, or broken by death. "The ran- \ e somed of the Lord shall return and come to Zion with songs, and everlasting upon their heads, they shall obtain joy ana gladness; and sorrow and sighing shall flee away." J. S. * The Meeting of Poets.?In that city 4?3jji well known to every body, if they can find out the name?a political genius was *** hauled up befor a poetical magistrate for kissing a girl and kicking up a dust, and the following interesting dialouge ensued;? Magistrate. Is your name John Jay? Prisoner.?Yes, your honor, so the people say. :,.r | if^.JLWas it you that kissed the girl, | and raised the alarm? Pris.?Yes, vour honor, but I thought it was no harm. . _ ~ m | Mag.?You rascal! did you come her? to make rhymes? ' . Pris.?No, your honor, but it will happen sometimes. Mag.?Be off, you scamp, get out of my sight. Prir.?Thank'ee. your honor, then I'll bid you good night. A Brave Irishman.?An Irishman who was a soldier of the revolution, was stopped near Boston by a party during a dark night; a horseman's pistol was presented to his breast, and he was asked to which side i-ip hplnntrpH Tho cimuosition that it UV . * ??w W-J-Jmight be a British party rendered his situition extremely critical- He replied; "I think it would be more in the way )f civility^jjjst to drop a hint which side ^ou are pleased to favor. ,4! "No," hastily said the first speaker;* de- * :lare your sentiments or diel ' - ' , ** Then I will not die with a lie in my nouth; American to extremity! Do your yorst you spalpeenH The Officer rep'ied." we are your riends; and I rejoice to meet with a man o faithful, to the cause of his country." y : ' , O 3 - : 'S" ' .-K-ir&k* BS M Itwafe?