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j \ * t - " V* J',. ' r * I i CAMD U ? 1 ; VOLUME 3. CAMDEN, SOUTH-CAROLINA, AUGUST^ 1852. ' NUMBER 69. ?? _ THE CAMDEN JOURNAL. published semi-weekly akd weekly by THOMAS J. WARREN. TERMS. The Semi-TVkskly Journal is published at Three * Dollars and Filly Cents, if paid in advance, or Four : Dollars if payment is delayed three months. The Weekly Journal is published at Two Dollars . c f J : j m ? i a piuu lauuvuace; iwu jjuiuus ami rmj ucuts 11 piivLment be delayed three months, and Three Dollars il'not t>aid till the expiration of the year." ADVERTISEMENTS wijl be inserted at the following terms: For one Square (fourteen lines or less) in the semi-weekly, one dollar for the first, and twenty-five cents for each subsequent insertion. In the weekly, seventy-five cents per square for the first, and thirty-seven and a half cents for each subsequent insertion. Singlo insertions one dollar. Semi-monthly, monthly and quarterly advertisements charged the same as for a single insertion. "The number of insertions desired, and the edi- j tion to be published in must be noted on the margin of all advertisements, or they will be published semi-week- j ly until ordered discontinued and charged accordingly j TTTAT ROM ft Art ATM. BY T. K. IIERVEY. That song!?its wailing strain Brings back the thoughts of other hours? The forms I ne'er may see again, That brightens all life's faded flowers! In mournful murmurs o'er mine ear Remembered echoes seem to roll, And sounds I never more can hear, Make music in my lonely 60ul! That swell again!?now, full and high, The tide of feeling flows along, And many a thought that claims a sigh Seems mingling with the magic song! The forms I loved?and loved in vain, The hopes I nursed?to see them die, With fleeting brightness, through my brain, In phantom beauty, wander by ! Then touch the lyre, my own dear love!? My soul is like a troubled sea, And turns from all below?above, In fondness, to the harp and thee! THANK GOD FOR THE HARVEST. BY JAMES G0GGIN8. Thank God once more for the fruitful plain, Where waves a sea of the bending grain ; ] Where the golden hues of the morning meet < A mirror bright in the dew-bathed wheat. ; i The famine-fiend with his wings had thrown | A cloud of gloom o'er the earth's wide zone, 1 - And the peasant boy lone in the world had wept, i 'Till he found a couch where his mother slept. But now the shout of the reaper lings, 'Till the blackbird starts on his trembling wings, While his heart grows glad as he dies away O'er the harvests brown a.id the fragrant hay. ( Gay sounds are heard where before awoke No sound from shuttle nor anvil stroke, And where was heard but the voice of wail, The dance, the song, and the smile prevail Then God be praised for the fruitful plain, ^ Where waves a sea of the bonding grain; Where the golden hues of the morning meet, A mirror bright in the dew-bathed wheat. HOPE EVER. The night is mother of the day. 1 lie winter 01 trie spring, i And ever upon old decay, The greenest mosses cling. Behind the cloud the star-light lurks, Through showers the sunbeams fall; For God, who loveth all His works, Has left His hope with all. French and English Politeness.?An Englishman and a Frenchman wore travelling by railroad. They were alone in the same car. The Frenchmen, always polite, asked permission to 6raokc; his companion made no reply, drew a cigar from his pocket and smoked also. At the first station: "Sir," said the Frenchman, your cravat is awry." The Englishman very silently arranged his cravat A little further: "Sir," said the Frenchman, "your cap is fulling off." The Englishman, without even saying "thank K you," secured his cap. A few moments atler: "Ah, sir," cried the Frenchman, "take care; the hot ashes have fallen on your collar, they may burn your coat." "Well, sir, let me alone," replied the Englishman "you have been burning this half hour, and I didn't brother you about it. An old bachelor having been laughed at by a party of pretty girls, told them: You are "small potatoes!" "We may be small potatoes," said one of them, "but we are sweet ones!" ANECDOTK.? mi; ji/iiif?? .o A storckeejwr, a few days since, puiehased of an Irish woman a quantity of butter, the lumps of which, intended for pounds, he "weighed in the balance and found wanting." "Sure it's yer own fault, if they are light," said Biddy, in reply to the complaint of the buyer, "it's yer owm fault, a sir, for wasn't it a pound of soap I bought here mesilf, that I had in the other end of the scales when I weighed em?" The storekeeper had nothing more to say on the subject. - -ABlik- ., From the American Farmer. PRIZE ESSAY, On the Comparative advantages of Drill Husbandry over the old system, (to which the Premium of the Maryland State Agricultural Society was awarded,) By Edward Stabler, of Montgomery Co. Md. CONCLUDED. It may however not be amiss to state, that all, so far as my knowledge extends, who have given the Drill culture a fair trial, are more than willing to continue its use by luring the work at oU cents per acre, if tlicy have not the money to spare to purch;isc one for themselves; being satisfied as before staled that the saving in seed alone, will fully pay for the use of a drill. Without giving names,?though I am quite willing to vouch for .the high standing and respectability of the parties, knowing them personally, and having ex- | amincd the craps on the ground?I will refer particularly to two cases; one to test the increase, J side by side with drilling and broad-cast sowing; and the other on an extended scale with the drill after testing the relative merits of both modes. . The first was the leas't increase ascertained in ' any case, and was on 1 1-4 acres broad-cast, 2 1-2 bushels seed; yield 43b. and 23 pounds ; 1 1-4 acres drilled adjoining, lb. 3 1-2 pecks seed, ] yield 44b. 43 pounds ; or increase per acre, including the saving in seed, nearly 1 1-2 bushels: a less increase I am inclined to believe than will generally be obtained on land less fertile. The other case was a field of ' one hundred acres , fallowed, and liberally limed [ iiiof cfifl/^inric Oft/1 sltnlln/1 Wlfll 1 1-0 Illicit. 1 J UOll WIVIV/ >7V/^UII1^) ?"U unuvu ntwu A A M VUtfli ^ els of seed to the acre; the actual yield wasthir- ' ty six hundred and fifty bushels,?an average of 36 1-2 bushels. Two acres, as I am informed by the owner, were measured off, and ninety-six J bushels of clean wheat obtained therefrom. Xor j was 36 1-2 bushels considered a fair average; j but for a tornado that blew down and scattered . nearly the whole crop,?leaving only 17 or 18 ) standing, out of 1800 shocks or hand stacks, the yield of this field would most probably have been full 40 bushels to the acre; there were 1200 shocks on the one hundred acres, and but for J the cause alluded to, it was believed would have I averaged 3 1-2 bushels each. In extent and ^ quality together, it was the finest field of wheat I ever saw. A portion of this ground was seed- j ed broad-cast in order to test the relative yield; but from the casualty referred to, and the mixing of the shocks, it could not be. done accurately ;? with the same quantity and adjoining lands ov beds, and equal measure of seed, however, it was 1 ?stimated by the increased number of shocks m<l better filled heads, that the increase bv drillng was notless than "from to" 10 Dusribis iu 1 the acre. But say five bushels increase; and we have 500 bushels gain, and in a portion only of a single crop.* ? 1 innmoof. si rill in rr '-/HldS IlilW SiaiCU bllCII isj it three to live bushels per acre, and two at 0 and 7 bushels, estimated by the increased number of shocks. Reference could also he made to well authenticated experiments where the increasc by drilling, carefully compared side by side with broad-cast sowing, was seven and eight bushels; and in one case well attested, it was equal to nine bushels to the acre; these however, are considerably above the average increase. An incident came to my knowledge, so germainc to the subject, and so well vouched for, that I give it full credence. A vender otferod a drill for the increase in a crop of fifty acres of wheat;? the grower to determine this to his own satisfaction, by seeding portions through the field broad-cast. Before harvest however, he agreed to pay one hundred dollars, the price of the I drill, with interest, having that privilege. On carefully ascertaining the increase, it was found to he one hundred and fifty-three bushels. It is not worth the time and paper to offer testimony to those who are well informed on the subject, and have used good drills; they do not require it; but to the inexperienced it may he desirable to have more light thrown on the subject ; and to such 1 now address myself. The best implement for anv purpose, is gene- ' rally the cheapest in the end ;?and of all A<;n- ' cultural iinplcincments, the best Drill, is unques- ' tionably the cheapest. It is a " penny wise and ' jmund foolish" policy, to purchase a drill merely ' because it can be had at a low price, if it per- 1 forms imperfectly, it may prove dear at any price, 1 and is not worth having; as it is sure to lead to disappointment, and may occasion more loss in a single crop, than would pay the difference,? . if not the full price of an efficient and lirst rate | article. I gave ?100 for a drill last season, in ] preference to others offered at about half price; , and the saving in my own crop in the seed and . increased product, and also by drilling for sow- | ral of my neighbours, nearly or quite repaid tnc | the cost; to say nothing of the economy of time ( and labour in seeding, and the satisfaction of , having the work done in a complete and work- < manlike manner: having indeed, rarely expend od the same amount of money with more satisfaction. I would not, however, be understood as intending to convey the opinion, that an efficient drill cannot he made at much less price. Increased demand will cheapen production ; as by enlisting more inventive genius any skill in the manufacture, if not now attained, as I believe it is, a good drill and sufficient for all practical purposes, will be furnished at about half the sum. As a general rule, whenever the land is in pro per order to seed and cover with the harrow, it *Xok.?Since writing this Essay, I hare obtained permission, and with pleasure give tlio name of this gentleman,?John A. Selden of Westovor, Va.; and largo and unusual as some may consider the yield in this particular case, it was very nearly equalled on 2D0 acres of drilled fallow and corn land wheat, at Shirley, a fewmiles distant; the average being between 2D and 110 bushels totheacre on the whole. Hero also thoground work was Lime ; tlio' not npplicd as In tho former ciuso, to tho wheat crop. On both of these estates liruo has been liberally used; and with the aid of clover and plaster, their products have been fully doubled witliiu comparatively a few years. is in a suitable state for the drill;?indeep a good drill will perform the operation and cover the wheat much better in dry rough land, than I the harrow; and it will also come up much bet-' ter. If the land is broken up when moist, and well j ploughed, the harrow may often be dispensed ' with; or at most, a light harrowing is sufficient under such circumstances to prepare it for the drill: but h* dry. and rough from clods, the rol lor should follow the harrrow, and precede the the drill. The objection to the roller on stiff clay soils, is entirely obviated, by the state the land is left in,?by the combing of the drill; being as light and mellow almost as an ash heap; it materially aids in giving a fine tilth,?letter than any other implement. The seed being covered deeper and of uniform depth, renders the tine soil less liable to be washed off and of the plants washed up across the rows, as the stalks and roots form 110 inconsiderable barrier to the free passage of the water; nor is drilled wheat half as liable to be thrown out by the frost. There is still another advantage attending the drill, which a neut and a systematic farmer will appreciate; it measures very accurately, and registers the contents of eacli field in the operation of seeding; thus enabling him to apportion his seed, manures, <fcc. with precision, 1 and obviating all necessity of guessing at what should be known with certainty. No good practical farmer however, will attempt to seed his land until it is properly pre mod to receive and nourish the gram that is 1 lestiiied to furnish him with his daily bread, ind reward him for all his toil. If seeded in 1 slovenly manner,on land only half prepared,? ind immaterial which way seeded, he should not >e surprised if at harvest, lie can only reap a 1 neagrc and sorry crop.?If lie waits for nature i o do his share of the work,?the clods to be iroken and pulverized by frost, he will be very ! ikoly to find much of his seed destroyed in the nterim, by the same active and powerful agent; ind all for want of a little extra care, and pro- i cction to the tender plants. I The Drill is not calculated to work in new 1 tround; tho' astuinp occasionally is readily ; >asscd round. Fast rocks, cause a few moments 1 lelay by breaking a wooden pin,?used and inended to be broken by such obstructions, and < vithout at all deranging the machine otherwise, i f well constructed and made in a durable man- 1 icr, it will last many years, by merely renewing ' he steel points and brushes ;?and these will 1 ccd 200 to 300 acres, or more perhaps in some 1 ight soils, without renewing. ' There is considerable diversity of opinion as ' 0 the proper width apart of the drills; and af- J ?"iuinrimr crops at * ?- ' - ' ; prefer the latter; and for the following reasons. ?If the land is poor, or of only medium qualiv, this space is not too wide ; and if rich, the ' rrain will branch sufficiently to till the intervc- 1 ling spaces above ground, and afford none too 1 nuch room for the grass seed ; again, if the ' irowtli of straw is very luxuriant, and drilled at nuch less than nine inches, the young grass is J iable to be smothered out. Some advocate and 1 and the improvement of having two lines of | lrills; alternating the depositing tubes, so as to . brm a z'g-zag; and thus afford more space for (tones, clods, and rubbish to pa>s between them, t may aid in this particular, but on the whole [ consider it a disadvantage, and no improvenetit whatever; as about half the wheat iscov:red at unequal depts,?the hindmost drills not laving an opposing one, throws off the earth ,oo far, to fall back and cover its wheat sufficient- 1 y ; and at the same time places too ntuch soil >n those that precede it on each side. Thus j mlf the crop onlv, lias the advantage of proper uid uniform side-ridges to prevent injurious acinn of the frost?an important consideration, [f however, the ground is so rough from clods, itoue, or rubbish, that they cannot pass through i space of nine inches, bv setting the tubes in i line with each other, the machine had .as well perhaps be laid aside altogether, until the farmer . earns and practices one of the first rudiments of ...itUiKf. ; ^ in bis land in a suitible *' ~ ? i i? ? naimcr to receive the seed. It would he .about is reasonable to expect the implement to work satisfactorily under such circumstances, as to require the school boy to read fluently, or to write i fair hand, before he had learned to spell cor ectiy, or w;is familiar with the use of the pen. I,ittlp. Disappointments.?IIow hard to bear iro the smallest ills of life! harder, oftentimes ban its greatest tiials! When great calamities jofall us, they rouse all our native strength and mcrgy to coin bat them. We stand up nobly itul bare our breasts to the storm. There is a iind of heroism?romance, if you will?in batding them. Dut when small evils come, perdiance our heads are bowed at once. There is not sullieient motive to rouse us. Our energies dumber and sleep. And thus it is all through our life pilgrimage. ' ' .i -i irrif:ito ik it is mile tilings unit auiiuj <m?.4 troubling and depressing our souls. C>, lot my daily life, with its hourly cares and joys, go right, and all will be right. I shall be strong then, and firm of soul, to battle with life's greater woes. Bo it estrangement or dcatli?the one almost as bad to be borne as the other?I shall not bend beneath them. They nrc great calamities. All my soul's strength will come forth to meet them, and 1 shall live. But, let it bo little things, a word of coldness now and then, a neglector apparent slight, or disappointment in any way, and I am troubled more than words can tell. And a repetition of these things leaves its impress on the heart forever. Oil, be careful of little things, little evils! Tho great will take care of themselves. Two companies of lads have been encamped > . ? n,Alaasnfhnset.ts nr>nr lor a day or two .it *t?ni??, the Stone House. They dress in uniform, carry wooden muskets, drill and pitch their tents, and "uard them like veterans. Importance of Religion to Society. Few men suspect, perhaps 110 man comprehends, the extent of.the support given by religion to the virtues ofan ordinary life. No man perhaps is aware, now much our moral and social sentiments are fed from this fountain ; how powerless conscience would become without the belief of a God; how palsied would be human benevolence, were there no sense of a higher benevolence to quicken and sustain it; bowsuddenly the whole social fabric would quake, and with _._1 _ ^ _ X* . . A. 1 _ 1 . II 1 ?. a wnat a ieanui cr<isn it wouia .siuk into ruins, were the ideas of a Supreme Being of accountableness, and of a future life, to be utterly erased from every mind. Once let men throughly believe that they are the work and sport of chance; that no superior intelligence concerns itself with human affairs; that all their improvements perish for ever at death; that the weak have no guardian, and the injured no avonger; that there is no recompense for sacrifices to uprightness and the public good! that an oath is unheard in heaven ; that secret crimes have no witness but the perpetrator; that human existence lnus no purpose, and human virtue no unfailing friend; that this brief life is every to us, and death is total, everlasting extinction ; once let men thoroughly abandon religion, and who can conceive or describe the extent of the desolation which would follow ? We hope perhaps that human laws and natural sympathy would hold society together. As reasonably might we believe that were the sun quenched in the heavens, our torches could illuminate, and our fires quicken and fertilize the earth ? What is there in human nature to awaken respect and tenderness, if man is the unprotected insect of a day ? And what is he more, if atheism is true ? Erase all thought and fear of God from a community, and selfishness and sensuality would absorb the whole man.? Appetite, knowing 110 restraint, and poverty and suffering, having 110 solace or hope, would trample in scorn on the restraints of human laws.? Virtue, duty, principle, would be mocked and spurned as unmeaning sounds* A sorid self-in- J Lerest would supplant every other feeling, and man would become, in fact, what the theory of atheism declares liitn to be, a companion for brutes. ? It particularly deserves attention in this discussion, that the christian religion is singularly inportant to free communities. In truth we may doubt whether civil freedom can subsist without it. This at least we know, that equal rights and an impartial administration of justice, have never been enjoyed where this religion has 101 been understood. It favors free institutions, irst, .because its spirit is the very spirit of liberty: hat is, a spirit of respect for the interests and -rrrrt^timiitv recofiiizufi the essential equality of mankiuu . urmo c.. -??.? whole might those aspiring and rapacious principles of our nature, which have subjected the many to the few; and, by its refining influence, us well as by direct precept, turns to God, and to Him only, that supreme homage which has I been so impiously lavished on crowned and titled fellow creatures. 'Thus its whole tendency is free. It lavs deeply the only foundations of liberty, winch are the principles or benevolence, justice and rospoct. for human nature. The spirit of liberty is not merely, as multitudes imagine, a jealousy of our own particular rights, an unwillingness to Jjo oppressed ourselves, but a respect for the right, of others, and an unwillingness that any man, whether high or low, should bo wronged and trampled under foot. Now this is the spirit of Christianity ; and liberty has no security, any farther than this uprightness and benevolence of sentiment actuate a comthunity. In another method religion befriends liberty. It diminishes the necessity of "public restraints, and supersedes in a great degree the use of force in administering the laws; and this it docs bv malting men a law to themselves, and by representing tiic disposition to disturband injure society. Take away the purifying and restraining influence of religion, and selfishness, rapacity and injustice will break out in new excesses; and amidst the increasing perils of society, government must he strengthened to defend it, must accumulate means of repressing disorder and crime; and this strength and these means may be, and often have been, turned against the freedom of the State which they were meant to secure. In this coutttry, government needs not the array of power which you meet in other nations?no guards of soldiers, 110 hosts of spies, 110 vexatious regulations of police; but accomplishes its beneficent purposes by a few unarmed judges and civil officers, and operates so silently around us, and comes so seldom in contract with us, that many of us enjoy its blessing with hardly a thought of its existence. This is the perfection of freedom; and to what do we owe this condition ? I answer, to the power of those laws which Religion writes on our hearts; which unite and concentrate public opinion against injustice and oppression which spread a spirit of equity and good will through the community. Thus religion is the soul ot freedom, aiul no nation under heaven has such an interest in it as ourselves. Sally, you seem to be ignorant in geography; I will examine you in grammar. Take the sen tcnce, "marriage is a civil contract." Parse marriage. "Marriage is a noun because it is a name. And though Shakespere asks what's a name, and says that a rose by and other name would smell as sweet, yet marriage being a noun and therefore a name, shows that the rule established by the Hard of Avon has at least one exception.? For marriage certainly is of very great importance and being a noun, and therefore a name, ergo, there is something in a name." Good!?well what is the oauso of marriage?" "Don,t know sir." 'Decline it, and see." "Don't feel at liberty to decline marriage after having made Bill the promise I have. I'd rather conjugate." Nonsenso in the mouths ot the witty oecomes vcrv often wisdom, for it is the office of wit tc make ranch out of little. ? ? _ - Immigration* to Northern Texas.?The Northern Standard, published at Clarksville Red River county, Texas, says that a large immigration is expected this fall from all the Southern States, as far Northwardly as Virginia, to that section of Texas. Indeed the movement has already commenced, and the Standard says that the amount of crossing at Preston, in Grayson county, is now quite large. From the accounts , we receive by every mail of the immensity of the grain crops in that section, we should think,says 11 \r fx r*' .1 a.i 111 i ; uic . v./. ncuyune, inai mere wouiu De no aani ger of scarcity this season. Si'eecii of Col. Ben*ton.?Ex-Senator Benton ' delivered a speech on the 11th instant, before a meeting of citizens of St. Louis, called, we perj sumo, for the purpose of congratulating him on j his election to the House of Representatives.? : The colonel made a dashing speech, and rejoiced j over the victory they had achieved by carrying 1 the city and county of St. Louis without losing a man. He expressed himself opposed to a , war with Mexico to enforce the revival of the Ga! ray grant; he is against a war with Great | Britain; against sending ships to the scene of : dispute, and opposed to alarming the country with a talk of war. Qt i Tf r\y> Tr?r-?t i m TL <\ InnA ^? ?? I KJl Al U \jr Xl\CsUA^U, J. lie icU5b iiiueiJJgUIJ^U iroill : Ireland is that the people of that country appre; bended another wide-spread blight of the potato crop. It is stated, however, that the disease the present season is only partial, and that it will bo j compensated for in the increased production of both the potato and grain crops. The Galway Packet says: 44 The people appear bent on leaving the country as fast as they can. It is lamentable to sea men fleeing from the land of their nativity as from a pest house. The young and the strong, and the vigorous, ay, and many of the comparatively wealthy, too, are thronging to the emigrant ships. On yesterday morning no fewer than 200 souls left this neighborhood by train for Dublin cn route to America." ^ The Daily Express has the following statement in reference to the potato blight: 44 A good deal of anxiety is manifested about the condition of this important crop. We have given as careful consideration as we could to the accounts received from various quarters of the country, and have examined, personally, within the last few days, many fields in this and the adjoining counties, and the conclusion arrived at is, that, although the disease is undoubtedly present, it is not so in such a degree as to cause great alarm. An immense extent of the crop has been planted in Ireland this season, much ? c. i JflTOhy than for many seasons past; and from . | natural tendency to alarm," it wffiKlSiL f?r t"e | the rot is not so wide-spread, nor so bad/~\v!iero" ? j it docs appear, as formerly. Our contemporaries : and their correspondents would do well to weigh their statements on this subject before exciting unfounded fears in the public mind." No Use for Tkowsers Now.?On the morning of the meteor shower, in 1833, old Peyton Rogers, who intended making an early start to his work, got up in the midst of the display. On going to his door, he saw, with amazement, the sk}' lighted up with the falling meteors, and he concluded at once that the world was on fire, and that the day of judgment had come. He stood for a moment gazing in speechless terror at the scene, and then, with a yell of horror, sprang out of the door into the yard, right into the midst of the falling stars, and here, in his efforts to dodge them, he commenced a series of ground and lofty tumbling that would have done honor to a tight rope dancer. Ilis wife Winer awakened in the mean time, and seeing old Peyton jumping and skipping about the yard, called out to Liini to know? 41 What in the name o'sense he was doin' out tliar. dancin' nrouua thar, without his clothes on ?" But Teyton heard not. The judgment and the long black accounts ho would have to settle, made him heedless of all terrestial things; and his wife, by this time, becoming alarmed at his strange behavior, sprang out of bed, and running to the door, shrieked out at the top of her lungs? " Peyton! I say, Peyton! what do you mean jumpin' about out thar? Come and put your trowsers on." Old Peyton, whose fears had now overcome him, faintly answered, as he fell sprawling on the earth,44 Oh! Peggy, Peggy, don't you sec-e the w-o-r-l-d-d's a-ii-r-e. Thar ain't no use for trowser's now." A lawyer at Poughkopsic, was applied to during his lifetime, by an indigent neighbor, for his opinion on a question of law, in which the interests of the latter wore materially involved. The lawyer gave his advice and charged the poor wretch three dollars for it. "There is the money," said the cilcnt: 44it is all that 1 have in the world, and my family have * been a long time without pork!" "Thank Cod 1" replied the lawyer, 4<my wife never knew the want of pork since we were mar l ied!" ''Nor never will!" the countryman rejoined, "so long as she has such a great hog as you are!" The lawyer was so pleased with the smartness of the rapartee, that he forgave the poor fellow and returned the money. The contemplation of distresses softens the mind of man and makes the heart better. It extinguishes the seeds of envy and ill-will towards mnntinrl porrorts tho nrido of ornsnpritv. and boats down all that fierceness and insolence which arc apt to get into the minds of the daring and fortunate. Most men employ their first, years jrr such a manner as to make their last miserable. i