W]THE CAMDEN JOURNAL. j I^^PMET ~ X'AMDKX. SOUTH-CAROLINA, JUNE 6. 1852. N UMBER 46. | ^WfflECAMDEN JOURNAL, MV PUBLISHED SEMI-WEEKLY AND WEEKLY BY mm THOMAS J. WARREN. nn i? ? jySST M. JLJ Mm i'jm. * HP The Semi-TVeekly JOURXAL is published at Three Mr ' Dollars and Fifty Cents, if paid in advance, or Four Dgjlars if payment is delayed three months. Be*- ' The Weekly Journal is published at Two Dollars K Br if paid in advance; Two Dollars and Fifty Cents if payHP inent be delayed three months, and Three Dollars if not Hp paid till the expiration of the year. If} ADVERTISEMENTS will be inserted at the fallow-1 itur tenns: For one Square (fourteen lines or less) in the semi-weekly, one dollar for the first, and twenty-five j cents for oach subsequent insertion. In tho weekly, seventy-five cents por square for the firsthand thirty-se^ Ven and a half cents for each subsequent insertion. Sin gle insertions one dollar. Semi-monthly, monthlj' and ^Ljflwtqrlv advertisements charged the same as for a sin-1 insertion. I ?Hii ?moArfiAfii rinaired. and the edi f fcB- JLUK9 UUUIUCI KJk , on to be published in must be noted on the margin of, 11 advertisements, or they will be published semi-week- j until ordered discontinued and charged accordingly ; The Child and the Pebble. TRANSLATED FROM THE GEKHAN. I met an infant by a bridge, With hair of flaxen hue, j. Cheeks red, and rounded as a peach, a V And eyes of blue. I She held a pebble in her hand, I , And then in careless glee, i Threw it far out into the stream, ^ And laughed at me. The golden flashes dived away, Ae last the pebble fell, And spreading circles vexed the waves, With gentle swell. " Fair child," I thought " how blessed in life. k" If thus thou scatter wide, 4i Xhe cares and sorrows thou shalt meet, ^'.M()fl every side." ? Full many gladsome years have fled, "When fancy me beguiled, A 3 * * aiana tnirard the bridee. * /iuu yt-in iiij SKJA- ^ . Where sat the child. J Alas! the arch had felt deca}-, 1 The stream afciver grown. Coursed madly o'er the spot where once j m The pebble shone. ? / And 'raid the darkness of the night, H- j And'raid the furious storm, J With arras tossed up to Heaven there stood, A woman's form. fi ATheJM^cry of wild despair, . I the wave I And fortmhg whirlpools gathered o'er I The lonely grave. P 1 tamed away, with teariui eye, I For memory could but own, | The child hadflur.g itself where fell, ij The sparkling stone. The Kind Old Friendly Feeling, i The kind old friendly feelings! f We have their spirit yet, Tho' years and years have pass'd old friends Since thou and I last met! And something of gray Time's advance, i Seems in thy fading eye, k Yet 'tis the same good honest glance A I loved in times gone by? B Ere the kind old friendly feelings, Had ever brought one sigh! t - "The warm old friendly feelings ^-rfTu ttho need not be told No other links can bind the heart Like those loved links of old! Thy hand joy'd in youth to clasp, The touch of age may show ; / Yet 'tis the same true hearty grasp, I loved so long ago! ^ the last old friendly feelings, Had taught one tear to flow J The kind old friendly feelings I Oh, seem thee e'er less dear, Because some recollections May meet us with a tear! L Though hopes we shared?the early beams, L Ambition showed our way? Rl Have fled, my triend like morning dreams s Before Truth's searching ray, p Still we've kept the kind old feelings That blessed our youthful day. DIFFICULTY. i There is an aim which all nature seeks; the flower that opens from the bud?the light that breaks the cloud into a thousand forms of beauty?is calmly striving to assume the jV perfect glory of its power: and the child, whose k proud ?augh heralds the mastery of a new lesson, unscouciously devclopes tho same life^ impulse seeking to prove the power it has felt its k own. B .This.is the real goal of life shining from afar; as our fullest power was never yet attained a treasure which must be sought, its extent 9B* fl distance being unknown. No man can tell fig iat he can suffer, uutil tried; his path of ac^B* .fi broadens out before him ; and, while a path pears there is power to traverse it. It is like gjgg i fabled hill of Gfenius, that ever presented a BM j&ier elevation above the one attained. It is ISjtf aC the glory of the stars, which shine by berH| .owed light, each source of which is tributary to ^one more distant, until the view is lost; as yet only know there must be a life-giving centre, * ? L a 1 ./i:f. m 1 to the steady mina uiougu Hie gum . be, "can I kuow or do this?" for what is not permitted we cannot do. We may not know the events of the future, or the period of a thought, or the Great First Cause, but we may hope to see and combine the atoms of things?pierce the realms of space?make the wilderness a gardeu?attain perfection of soul and body; and for this our 1 end we may master all things needful. \ There is nothing possible that faith and striving cannot do; take the road, and it must lead you to the goal, though strewn with difficulties, j and cast through pain and shade. If each would strain his energies to gain what he has dared to hope for, he would succeed, for, since that which we love and honor is in our nature, it is to be i drawn forth, aud what is not there we cannot wish. Our greatest drawback is, not that we expect too much, but that we do too little, we set our worship too low, and let our higher powers lie ? 4 dormant; thus are we never master out diiiiu men stumbling in each others way. As maturity means self-controlling power, so he who gains not this is childish and must submit, infant like, to be controlled by others. This guidance we must feel in our upward course, and be grateful for the check; but as we have each a work to do, we must look beyond help to independence. The school-boy receives aid in learning, that he may strive with his own power, for if he always depends on help, he never can be a useful man. He who seeks for himself no path, but merely follows where others have been before, covering his own want with another's industry, may find the road not long or thickly set but he does and gains nothing. He who bows to difficulty, settling at the foot of the hill, instead of struggling to its top, may get a sheltered place, a snug retreat, but the world in its glory he can never sec, and the pestilence from the low ground he must imbibe. We may rest in perfect comfort, but the health that comes of labor will fade away. The trees of the forest were not planted that man might pass round and live between tbcm, but that he might cut them down and use them. The savage has little toil before him, but the civilized m$n has greater power of happiness. Would a man be powerful, and bid hi'genius rule his fellow men, he must toil to gain means; while his thought reads the hearts that he would sway, he must be led into temptation, and pass through pain and danger, ere he can know what another may endure. Would he pour golden truth upon the page of life? He must seek it from every source, weigh the relations of life, and concede to its taste, that he may best apply it, for the proverb must be written in fair round hand, that common men may read it. Would he picture the life of man or nature? he must go forth with heart and eye alive; nor turn from the sorest notes of human woe, or the coarsest tones of vice; he must watch the finest ray of light, and mark the falling of the last withered leaf. Would he be ^actively benevolent? winter cold, nor summer lassitude, must not appai mm, in season, he mast be ready;injured pride, wounded feeling, mast not unstring his energy, while stooping to learn frona the simplest lips the naJtnge of those wants to which he would minister. In HiraeeomjiliAliHnent there is difficulty; the greater the work, the greater tlitrjuains. There is no such thing as sudden inspiration of*grace, < for the steps of life are slow, and what is not ; thus attained is nothing worth. In darkness, the < eyes must be accustomed to the gloom when ob j jects appear, one by one, until the mast distant I is pereieved; but, in a sudden light, the eyes are ] pained, and blinded, and left weak. i At school we found that when one difficulty ; was surmounted, another was presented; master- 1 ing "Additiou" would not do?we mast learn t Subtraction;" so it is in life. A finished work is 1 a glory won, but a rniud content with one ac- < complement is childish, audits weakness renders it incapable of applying that?"From him that hath not shall be taken away even that he ] ?Vi!ill ri^ nn to liim as a shame. 1 untlJj uia vu? Iittiviauwuwii XW ? - - - _ A li ttlc sphere insures little happiness. i There is a time of youth for all; but youth has . a sphere of hope that, embracing the whole aim i which man must work for, gives unbounded hap- ; piness. Thus God would equalize the lot of all < where necessity would creat differencce; it is only 1 when states are forced unnaturally that misery 1 ensues. When those who would seem to be men i are children in endeavor, we see that God's will \ is not done, but a falsehood. The greatest of us 1 have asked and taken guidance in their rising 1 course, and owned inferiority without shame; but , ] his is a poor heart that looks to be inferior ever; ! i and shameful indeed it is, when those who are ] thus poor, imagine or assumes a right to respoct , as self-supporting men. How painfully ridiculous it is to see the lazv man look down on his I struggling wife as the "weaker vessel," or the idle < sinecurist hold contempt for tradesman who is working his w.w to higher wealth by honest toil. Were the aimsof living truly seen, no man would be dishonored Ix-causc useful. But wait awhile; 11 the world is drawing near the real point, and we shall find that the self-denying, fearless energy, that works its will in spite of pettiness, must gain its end, and become richest; that the man who begins with a penny in the hope of thousands, ! will grow wealthier than his aimless brother of the snug annuity; for while the largest wealth that is not earned Is limited the result of ceaseless toil is incalculable, since the progress of the soul is infinite! JtST'Samuel Noll, of Carroll county, Md., has obtained a patent for improvement in hommony i machines. i Market for Women in Hungary. Every year, at the feast of St. Teter, which < comes on in the latter days of June, the peasant- 1 ry of this district (Bihar) meet together at a certain place, for the purpose of a general fair. This fair has a very peculiar interest for the young j men and the young maidens, for it is there that, whilst purchasing household utensils, and family * 1 * necessaries, they ciioose ior ineraseivw pwwims, arid conclude marriages. The parents bring their marriageable daughters, with each one her littie dower accompanying her, loaded up in a small cart. This dower is, of course, proportionate to the lowly condition of these mountaineers, some sheep, sometimes a few hogs, or , eveu chickens. These girls are attired in their best, or what pieces of gold or silver they may possess, are strung upon a string and neatly attached to the braids of their hair. Thus fitted out, every girl who desires to find a husband betakes herself to the fair. She quits the house of ber father perhaps for ever, and bids her mother adieu, quite ignorant of what roof is to shelter, or what/ate awaits her journey's end. As to her fortune, it is in the little cart that attends her. The object of her journey is never mistaken, nobody wonders at it, nor is there occasion for a public officer to make a record of the deed. On the other hand, the youths who wish to procure themselves wives hasten to the fair, arrayed in the very best skin garments their chests contain. These savage-looking chaps, who would be quite enough to make our young ladies run and hide themselves, proceed with a good deal of interest and zest, to inspect the fair mountain lasses that are brought thither by their | fatliprs and their uncles, casting many sideglan- | ces and wistful looks toward the captivating merchandize. He gives his fancy a free rein, and when he finds one that seems to claim his preference, he 1 at once addresses the parents, asks what they have given her, and asks what price they have set upon the "lot" so exposed for sale?at the same time stating his own property and standing. If the parents ask too much, these gallant "boys" make their own offer, which, if it does not suit the other to agree to, the fond lover passes to seek some one else. We may suppose that the proud young men always keep a "top-eve" open to the correspondence of loveliness upon one hand, and the size of the dower upon the other. At last he finds one for whom he is willing to give the price, and a loud clapping of the hands together, announces to the bystanders that the bargain is complete. What a heavy blow this must be for some lazy rival who has not decided quick enough, who is halting and considering whether shn will suit him, and whether she is as lovely and accomplished in household matters as some of the others. However, the deed is done and the bargain is completed, and forthwith the young girl (poor thing) proceeds also to clasp the hand of her future husband. What a moment of ii terest and anxiety to her! The destiny of her life is sealed bv this rude clasp of the hand. In this act slie as mucti as saiu ~i cs, i \>m uu jouu ivi life, and I consent to partake of your joys and your troubles to follow you through weal and through woe J" The families of the betrothed pair then surround them, offering their congratulations, and at once without delay, the priest who is on the ground for the occasion pronounces the nuptial benediction. The young woman presses the parting liand of that family who have reared her, but of which she is no longer a part?mounts the cart of her new husband, whom but a few hours before she never ?o much as knew, and escorted by her dower, is conducted to the house henceforward to be her home. The Hungarian Grovernmetli1 .have long tried, but in vain, to suppress these fairs td?^/:oung girls. Positive jrders have been given that tliej^should no longer take place, but such is the force of>rfn^ces;ablished custom, united to the necessities of thisYpastoral race, that all such orders have been dis- , regarded. The fair still continues, and every f rear such cavalcades as wc have described may . se seen descending into the plains of Kalinasa, ( ;here to barter off these precious jewels of the , lousehold, as though they were senseless beeves t >r mere produce of the soiL?Congrcyationalist. Vampire.?Not long since, a young girl eleven fears of age, who lit cd in Paris, attempted to murder her mother, sister, and many of her playmates, for the purj>ose of drinking their blood. After a careful examination by a scientific man, t was declared that she was subject to the strange md terrible mania of canabalism. As she was extremely young, this strange perversion of nat jral instinct afforded a prospect of cute. All tvill remember the case of the Sergeant, who used at midnight to leave his quarters, and dig up bodies in Pere le Chase, which lie subsequently devoured. The unfortunate man is now cured, aud is but thirty-two years of age. He preserves of the episodes of his past life only a a confused memory, like the recollection of a i painful dream. In other days science feared to | Approach these sufferers. | In 1779,a younginan named rerrage, uuuer the influence of this malady, suddenly left his ( companions and surrendered himself up to this 1 horrible propensity, lie selected, as his retreat, ' a cavern near the top of ono of the mountains 1 of Aure, whence he used to descend, like a beast '' of prey, into the champagne country, killing all 1 the women; he could eat nothing else, and was 1 constantly seen to gaze, as if in wait for nn opportunity to seize his prey. lie never went abroad without a double barrel gup, a belt full ' of pistols, and a dagger. So grcrt was the terror that he inspired, that he used frequently to come into towns for food or amunition without ; anp mnlostntiwi. A peasant, whom lie suspected of a design , upon him, had his house burned over his head. Ho used to decoy any muleteers he chanced to discover in the woods to his den, where they were unifomly murdered. A large reward was offered for his capture in vain, until a bold peas int insinuated himself into his confidence and japtured him. This beast of prey, for such lie was, was executed on the 12th of December, 1792. He was broken alive on the wheel. For four years lie had lived exclusively as a ciuiibal. From On Spartan. The Christian Sabbath. The Institution of the Sabbath is at once a proof of the gocdness and of the wisdom of its Founder. Experience has demonstrated that laboring men, as well as laboring animals, absolutely require the Seventh day, as a day of phy-, sical rest. Without this interval of repose, j equal to a seventh part of their time, they would wear out their physical energies, and destroy their ability to labor iu a comparatively short period of time. Who knew so well the capabilities aud requirements of this finely wrought, and wondrous fry me of ours, as He by whose wisdom it was created ? If the body thus requires the repose of a seventh day to preserve its faculties in a proper and healthy state; much more does the mind require this periodical release from exhausting action. We have some facts which make a showing fearfully clear and convincing of the necessity of this day of rest to man's intellectual faculties. There are records of eminent professional char racters who would not forego their mental exertions upon the Sabbath, who became insane, even in the prime of life ; " the over-wrought brain," giving way from incessant action ; the machinery wearing out by interminable attrition. The rest of the Sabbath is thus necessary to man, both as a rational and physical being. The Sabbath is a merciful Institution. But it becomes immeasurably more important, if possible, when considered in reference to its uses, effects and influence upon man as a religious being, and upon Nations as religious communities. Ijt will hardly be stating the proposition too strongly, to affirm, that, without the external religious ceremonies of the Sabbath: without the Church, the classes and juvenile schools peculiar to the Sabbath : without the calm, the quiet, and cessation from worldly and secular labor, which now occur every seventh day, reminding man of the relation he sustains to his Maker; in short, if every day to come were a working day, arid the Sabbath were stricken from the list of Divine institutions: that man? that Nations?would soon cease to cultivate re1* no/1 trAIlM ]\ASI/*ktT)A O f l\OCt IJJJJOIW KIIU>Y cllJU nuuiu uvwmuj i* *> wwvj a community of Deists, and repudiate, in practice, the Christian faith. The only (nominally) Christian Nation that haa r.i.itlw the experiment of abolishing the Christian Sabbath, of wftich we have a record, was the Republic of France, during what was very properly called?"The Reign of Terror." The Sabbath was abolished by order of Government,?the Nation became partly Deistical, and partly Atheistical. To show* their supreme contempt for that Book, venerated by the civilized world, as a Revelation from Heaven,?a large concourse of people, in the streets of Paris, attached a Bible to the tail of an Ass, and dragged it thus through the city ! The scenes of carnage ; of wide-spread legalized murder; of wholesale executions of men and w.?menfor the offence of being suspected of holding improper political opinions; of a ruthless prescription of tho/Nobility; of banishment and death ; of the terrible ascendency of the sword and the Guillotine, which were enacted then in that troubled land, and by that wild, infuriated, demented party in power, called the Government, have now become a part of the history of the 18th century, If her crimes and her sufferings were consequent upon her abolition of the Sabbath?her profane and and sacriligious attempt to sever the obligation of man to the institutions of Religion ; then the example of Franco may never be copied by any Otncr peopie : I .inobservance of the Sabbath is binding alike ipon Natibtiij^hiinilies and individuals. Its proanation by oitherTS^tA^er attended with evil; md visited, sooner or laterJ^H^gonie form or oth?r, with Judicial inflictions. A voi&NS^ifl sounds vith solemn warning: " Jicmember the Stn^bath lay to keep *t holy" Advice to Wives.?A wife must learn how I ;o form her husband's happiness, in what direc-^ ,ioti the secret of his comfort lies; she must not I :herish his weaknesses by working upon them; J .he must not rashly run counter to his prejudices,^ r,not Kn tiorflf tn irritntiv Shp miist.fl .1151 IliULLV 111'to u ISls) uvtvi vv study never to draw largely upon the small stock 1 >f patience in & man's nature, nor to increase hisl jbstinacy, by try ing to drive him?never, if pos- T sible, to have scenes. I doubt much if a real J quarrel, even if made up, does not loosen the 1 bond between man and wife, and sometimes, un f ess the affection of both be very sincere, lasting. I [f irritation should occur a woman must expectl to hoar from most men a strength and vehe-B mence of language far more than the occasion B requires. Mild as well as stern men are proneB to this exaggeration of language; let not a wo-^J ovnp tr? sjiv nnv tliinrr sare.astieC illdii uc v. v. J j 3r violent in retaliation. The bitterest repent* mce must needs follow if she do. Men frequen? !y forget what they have themselves said, bur IB seldom what is uttered by their wives. They ire grateful, too for forbearance in such cases"; for, whilst asserting most loudly that they are right, they arc often conscious that they are wrong. Give-a little time, as the greatest boon yon can bestow to the irritated feelings of your iiusband.?The English Matron Transparent Soaps.?These soaps were for a long time manufactured only in England, where the process was kept a profound secret. They ore now made ever}' whcro. Ea 1 mV> tn rriva h'rap tn t.hft Co-/vnerahnn of oth """ *v"" ""p"" ~~~ 7 X" er Congressional Districts, The Whigs of South-Carolina have been represented in Sundry National Conventions, but have never yet given a single vote (in their Legislature) for Whig Electors. We respectfully suggest that if they cast eight or nine FJUwoi* votes in the approaching National. Convention; they contrive to cast at least one vote-for some Wiiig