Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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i DEVOTED TO LITERARY, COMMERCIAL, AGRICULTURAL, GENERAL AND LOCAL INTELLIGENCE. VOLUME I. LANCASTER, C. H., SOUTH CAROLINA, WEDNESDAY MORNING, SEPTEMBER 1, 1852. NUMBER 30. U -- - - THE LANCASTER LEDGER IS PUBLISHED EVERY WEDNESDAY MORNING. 11. 8. BAILEY, EDITOR AND PROPRIETOR. TKR MS: Two Dollars per your, if paid in adVance ; Two Dollars ami Fifty Cents, if Paid in six months: or Three Dollars, if t ? payment is delayed until tlio end of the year. Those terms will he rigidly adhered to. Advertisements will be conspicuously inserted i\t scventv-five cents j>er square of twelve lines, for the first insertion, and thirty-seven and a half cents for each subsequent insertion. A single insertion One Dollar. Nothing will be counted less than a square. Advertisers are requested to state, in writing on their advertisements, the number of times they wish them inserted; or they will be continued in the paper until ordered out, and charged accordingly. The Law of Newspapers. 1. All sulweribers who do not give express Notice to the contrary, are considered as wishing to continue their sula-riptions. 2. If subscribers order the discontinuance of their papers, the publishers may continue to send them until arrearages are paid. 3. Ifsubseribers neglect or refuse taking their pajn?rs from the offices to which they are scut, they arc held responsible till their bills are settled, and their papers ordered to be discontinued. . 4. The Courts have decided that refusing to take a newspaper or periodical from the office, or removing and leaving it uncalled for, is prima facie evidence of IBTENTIONAI. FHAt'D. UKjiL. ALL KINDS OF ^OB PRINTING KXF.Cl.TEU WITH NF.ATNF.SS AND DESPATCH At this Office. .1 p I r r t r it it I p s. THE DUEL IN THE DARK. A TA1.E OF VK'KSBURO. Every traveller who has descended the Missis.si|)i>i within the last twenty-live* ...... >, ?? i . jDy iiiu.tt i iriiiiriiiiMJi i itK.^uuig, ??? f*i 11pillar in its situation for u town on .lie shelving declivity of liigli rolling hills, with its houses scattered in groups on the terraces. Kverv reader of American newspapers iluring any one of tho last twentyfive years must remember Vieksburg, so rich has been the fund of material it has supplied for tho circulating libraries of "horrible murders," duels, affrays, and executions, by all sorts of "summary process." The public will not likely soon forget the hanging of tho gamblers and steam-doctors. in fine, everybody knows that the place has been noted since its earliest settlement for die la-lligerent character of its inhabitants, and the numlter and atrocity of tho violent deeds which may bo asserted w ith literal truth, to have stained its every street with the l-lood of human hearts. It is not our present purpose, however, to sketch any of these more celebrated brute-battles, that prove noth'ng beyond the w ilful wickedness of the r?-sj>octivo combatants. Hut wo will select for the sake of its mournful moral alone, a solitary tragedy, which was briefly chronicled by the press of the day, and then fuded from the recollection of all, save one from whom the writer received the story in all its particularity. She, of course, could never forget. The wife of the murdered hero wept at the sad reminiscence twenty years after tho date of the catastrophe. In the year 1827, a young lawyer, (whom we shall call John Thomas, to a>oid harrowing the memory of some relative or friend who might chance to skiin over these columns) emigrated from Worcester, in Massachusetts, to the Htate of Mississippi. He was poor, had recently married u lieautiiul and accomplished woman who had renounced wealthy parents for his sake, and hence was anxious to bettor his fortune in as little time as jm>saiblo. This consideration determined the legal adventurer to locate at Vieksburg, then considered in the West as tho paradise of the bar. In a very short time tho now lawyer had auipto reasons to congratulate himself on the choice of his poaitiou. Ilia * Wan J demeanor, studious habits, and more than all, hi* eloquence in debate, won him patronage;"* and ho rose, almost at a ainglo iH>und, to tfie first placo in his prrdession. He *m employed in all the land suits, and in moat of the still more numerous and equally lucrative* cases of homicide, so that in the UitW isriod of two years after hie advent ho had cleared the roatnd sum of thirty thousand dollars. Let no sceptical disciple of Lord Coke deem this . statement incredible. 8. 8. Prentiss, now of New Orleans, realized, cash in hand, i fi?rty thousand dollars by hie opening speech in Vicksburg. 1 | During his career thus far, young I I Thomas whs remarkable in one respect.? | He never went armed, and although in i the fierce and fiery altercations of the forum, he rtccossarily made some enemies, no attack had hi'herto been ventured on his person. The athleticism of his noble form, and the look of invinciblo determination in his keen blue eyes, had doubtless warned the desperadoes that "the Yankee orator," as he was generally termed eonld hit .as hard blows as the court itself. However this may bo. two years elans d. years j too of eminent success, he fore tlie peaeca I ble attorney was even insulted. Alas! . I tliis Halcyon period was doomed to a change alike sudden and terrible. There resided at that time in the town a notorious duellist by the name of Johnson,whose matchless prowess inspired universal fear. He had slain half a dozen foes on the public "field of honor," and as ! many in private and irregular encounters. All the members of "the bloody fancv club" spoke of Mike Johnson's feats with rapturous enthusiasm. Hut all good men, I all lovers of j>eace, when the "brave! wretch" ptissed, turned pale and were sil- j cnt. At the May term of the District Court, i 1829, the grand jury, mustering extraordinary courage, returned a true bill against Johnson for the murder of William Lee, an inoffensive youth, whom he had shot down in a drunken frolic, under circumstances of peculiar aggravation. Thomas i was retained by a friend of the deceased to aid in the prosecution, and notwithstanding the earnest advice of his wellwishers to the contrary, appeared on the trial of the cause?one of the most exciting ever argued at the bar of Vicksburg. On the last evening of the session, after adjournment, Thomas rushed into the presence of his wife, w ith looks of such evident a citation as to till hnr ennl overpowering alarm. "My ovc, tell me, in the name of hea- j ven, what has happened}" she cried, pale as a corpse, and shaking like a leaf in the wind. "Nothing," answered the husband, think-1 itig to conceal the most fearful part of the , intelligence. "Nothing, only the murderer, Mi'ce Johnson, after his ncquital, grossly insulted lue in the court-yard, and I knocked him down." "And ho challenged you to fight him with pistols!" almost shrieked the wife, anticipating the rest, with the quickness of i woman's keen common sense. "It is eveu so," replied the lawyer, mournfully. "Oh! say that you will not meet him. Oh! swear that you will not turn duelist, in this Sodom of the South," implored ; the wife, throwing her arms around his J nock, and sobbing like a child on his bo- i som. "There, do not weep now. I will not, turn duellist, dear Emma, although I much fear that the consequence will be my : ruin." "(lod will protect you from the hold had > innti " The next morning it was known in ' Yicksbunr that "the Yaukoe orator" had j i been challenged and refused to tight. Ac- ' I cordingly, he was generally denounced as a coward?a word which at that day, and I"even now, might l>e considered asexpressj ing far deeper scorn than either robber or I assassin. As he passed through the street*, ! he was astonished to witness the coldness . manifested by his old acquaintance, and j even professed friends, while the great I mass of the people seemed to regard him I with ineffable contempt. "Yankee w hite- j : liver," "boaster," "poltron," wero tho. I sounds most frequently ning in his ears, ! | especially when near tho groceries, and | there was one then on ever}1 terrace of the . broken hill. The matter grew still worse. About a , week afterwards, Johnson met bis victim ' in the public square, presented a cocked j pistol at his heart with one hand, and tielabored him unmercifully with a cowhide w hich he grasped in the other. Iiesist-1 1 ance at tho moment was altogether out of the question, for the slightest motion would have l?ecn the signal for immediate dentil. lie thought of Kmma and her sweet babe, and bore the castigation in , silence. After this, clients deserted his office, | and gentlemen refused to reengnizo him or return his salute in tho thoroughfares of business, or during bis morning strolls over the hills. Had his touch been contagion, or his breath pcsiijciicc, lie coulu not have la-en more carefully shunned. Another week passed, and the degraded lawyer was in a state of mind border! ing on insanity; and yet all the wliilo he ' concealed the mental fortune from his affectionate wife, fine p*Aiiin>r in ? ?'?? ?-, P' ' thai) common bitter and gloomy mood, aa { he walked through the public fujuare, he i wa* again acoated by Mike Johnaon, with i hia cocked piatol in one hand and uplifted I cowhide in tho other. The aaaault wan the more aggravating aa the place waa thronged with ajieetatora. H'oward and villain!" exclaimed Johnaon, "did I not tell you that I would cow hide you every week, until I whipped the 1 courage of a mnn and a gentlemen into your \ ankee hide!" MI am not a coward," retorted Thomaa, in a hollow tone, ao unearthly fierce and wild that it caused every hearer to start.; At the inatant, Ms lips were livid, and clonched between hie teeth till the blood ran. Ilia eyes were red aa a mad dog's ami the muscles of his fisoe quivered; but hi* Ixxly and limbs aeeraed to have the rigdity of marble. "lie will fight now," rung in an eager whisper through the excited crowd, aa they aaw the terrible tokena of Uie fiend arous, oil?the fiend which lurks, at different ; depths, in all human natuie. "If von arc not a ooward, why will you not fight" asked the duelist, somewhat < struck, in spite of his thorough desperation, hardened in the hot gore of a dozen t murders. i "I will fight, if you wish it," was the f loud ringing answer. i "Then you accept my challeuge?" i "I do. Will any one present be so I good as to act as my second?" inquired the t lawyer, addressing the spectators. t For a minute or two no one spolre, so i great was the dread of the arch duelist, t Mike Johnson. i "Will 110 one in such a mass of gener- 'J or.s men be my second?" repeated the \ lawyer, in a louder tone. "I will," said a shrill, trumpet-like voice, fill tlio niitA'irk of tin* ?? ?.! ? ?..11 v?tunii VI VI ?IIV vivnUj UIIU n L?lll| commanding form, with bravery written on his brow, ami the eagle's eye beneath it, made his way to the centre of the scene of contention, and stood close fronting i Johnson, with a smiling glance, before which the latter, for nn instant, quailed. The question "who is he! w ho is he?" circulated among the lookers on. But no one could answer; no one had ever seen him before, and yet everybody would have then sworn to his courage, so bold yet tranquil was his Waring. "Who arc you?" inquired the duelist,recovering his presence of mind. "A stranger from Texas." "But who will vouch for your respectability?" "I can give you vouchers sufficient," replied the stranger, frowning till his brows looked frightful; and then stooping forwards, he whispered something in Johnsoli's ear, audible alone to him. "I am satisfied," said the duelist aloud, and trembling perceptibly. "Col. Morton, will you serve as my friend?" The individual last addressed gave bis assent. "Now, let us adiouni to some nrivnte ?II * 9"*? v' 1 steel, ft groan, ? f?ll, and nil again was 1 v silent aa tho tomb! The duel a midnight j had ended; but how! They wero appall- a ed at the horrible question. I a Waiting some minutes and hearing no- y thing more,Col. Morton and the stranger I t! prepared a light, unlocked the door, and ! t entered. The sj>ectaclc was most affect- v ing. Tltere lay tho bloody corpse of the , I duelist, Johnson, mangled dreadfully, and ' * aliove it stood the erect and imposing ? form of the lawyer, Thomas?unhurt, not * a cut on hi* skin or a rent in his clothing, 1 hut weeping as if his heart were broken, n lie started back as the (lashing light v dazzled his eyes, and, growing pale aathe h dead at his feet, exclaimed, in accents of h immeasurable anguish?M Oh, (Jod! how h shall I endure to ineet my dear Kmmn, p with this murderous gore on my hands! * Such stains would doflle the very gates of w heaven, and blacken tho floor of hell itself!" y IIo did, however, afterwards meet Em- e ma mid her babe; but we shall not at- n tempt to paint the scene. A week sub- y sequently, ho was shot to pieces m his s own office, while employed in writing af- tl ter night. The assassin was not known, F but supposed to be a younger brother of tl the duelist, Johnson. si The stranger who acted in tho combat * as the second of Thomas, was indeed, as t! ho said, from Texas, and then travelling t through Mississippi, and was the bravest tl man, perhaps, that ever drew the breath h of life. James Bowie, who fell only with h the fiall of the Alamo, when his red knife was drunk with the Mood of Mexicans. c " . . 1 " , room to arrange the preliminaries," re- i marked tho (stranger; and tlic principals 1 and seconds left the crowd, then increasing every minute, and excited near to tnad- s ncss by tlic thick-crowding events of the I hour. < The meeting took place tho following I night, in a dark room, with the door locked and flic two seconds on the outside.? I Tho principals were placed in opposite f corners of tho apartment, which was f twenty feet square, and each was armed I with ? Urge bowio kuife?uo more. It was midnight?a night without mooh or stars. Black pitchy clouds enveloped the ? sky, and u slight sifting mist rendered the i shadows of tho earth more intense. Ilenec, tho room where the duel was about to be- r gin was wrapped in ray less darkness. The < combatants could not even sec tlie blades t of their own knives. I At first, they both stopped ami stealth- i ily untied and took off their shoes, so as to make tho least possible noiso in walk- c ing over the lloor. The same thought had t struck them at the same time?to manoe- i i uvro for tho vantage-ground.. <1 Thomas moved in a circle, softly as a c eat, around the apartment, till he got with- 1 in a few feet of tho corner where his cue- <1 my had first boon placed, and then paused c to listen. For four or five seconds he ? could hear nothing in the grave-like sil- ii ence but the quick heats of his own busy heart. Presently, however, there crept in- 1 to his ear a scarcely audible sound as of! t suppressed breathing, in the corner of the c room which lu> had previously left; and j then he knew that his fi?e was trying the | same stratagem. The ruse was repented j t thrice, with a like result. At length Thomas , o concluded to statnl jH'rfectly still and await i o Johnson's approach. Motionless now him- ? self, he could distinguish n soft rustling | t noise, like the dropping of flakes of wool, I circling around the floor, and gradually ' r advancing towards him. I ? At last, when the sound appeared with- 1 t in nhout tlireo feet of the lawyers'* posi-' f tion, he suddenly made a bounding plunge t with his knife, aimed in the durk air, ; I' where he supposed the Ikisoiii of his foe J e to be. His hladc struck against that of; 1 the other, and a few sparks of fire rolled I at the tierce collision, and fell expiring on 1 a the floor. j * And then, for an instant, the seconds | without the door heard n shnm rinerinrrnf! t Reader.?But the moral? You promis- c 'd us a moral. t Writer.?The same moral which lies at p he bottom of all true stories, if they be y cad rightly. I give * ou this, and can t fivo no more?that tne circumstances o vhicli make men make also their actions, s is the history of many a New Englander 11 >esides poor Thomas, in the South, can at- s est. Therefore, never strongly condemn lie deeds of your brethren of the com- d lion humanity, until you shall have reali/.- f <1 their material and spiritual situation in u ill i?s mathematical and moral dimensions, c I'll is lesson, studied well, may render you n viser and probably happier men. o - ^ m tm ? 0 From the Boston Olite Branch. * THE LAST TIE. p I/envos liavc their time to fall, h \nd flowers to wither nt the North wind's tl breath, h Aud stars to set?but all, 0 Hiou hast all seasons for thine own, O Death! Mrs. 11 km a as. "j How few think of death. Any subject w nay be discussed?the most puerile cogi- p at ions Ik? entertained, yet let one talk of lying, and oh, how soon the solemn sub- n eet is dismissed by the giddy and ungod- t< y ; and why is this I must we not all die? b 1 os, just as surely ns the sun shines in the a imminent. Then we should love to hink, to speak of death, yea, even to it risit the alasle of the dying, there to learn n he solemn truth that we are mortal, ami a nust soon leave the theatre of existence, n o breathe the pure atmosphere of I'ara- s; liae, or writhe in excruciating tortures, in p hat abode "where the worm dieth not,and k he fire is not quenched." u Header, did you ever sit beside the bed fi ?f some dear friend, and witness the ap- k ?roach of the king of terrors?see the s< yes become glassy, and the lips quiver n that last sad struggle ? If so, the fob h owing sketch may jiorhnps interest you. n "Spring, gentle spring has cotne again," aid Ellen S to her mothef, who sat ?y the la d, and gazed upon her darling y no with that anxiety which a mother's tl Ktsotn only can feel. "Oh, ma, open the window," continued tl Cllen, " and let mo inhale the fragrance tl rom my flow cr-garden ; there are beauth a ul flowers in it?aoinoj 'hinted by my own c lands, others by your hsjJna^cAr ma." |< Mrs. S raised the dnd^w, and Kb c "I 1 . i * |, ? Pn i*iTnT<VTt IW Til?niif tlo 1 garden tilled the apartraont in which she j oposod. Ellen S was in her eleventh year, ind her mother had looked forward with lelightful anticipations, to the day when he dear child would In? a solace to her; ut how mysterious are the ways of l'rovdence !?she was to be disappointed. c Two lovely children, one a son, the >tlicr a daughter, had been snatched from n ho dear parent who had ever striven to || nakc them happy, by that grim monster, a loath ; and now alio sat beside the couch a f her dear Ellen, the last link, the only \ reciotis tic that l*>und her to earth. The e liseasc which prcye<l upon this sweet tl hild had caused the death of her brother jt ind sister, and she, too, was rapidly sink- 1, ng into the arms of death. () All, how must that parent's heart have t| leaved with anguish, as she sat watching ft he receding sun-light of her Ellen's exist- <| nc -! c Is there a heart so sensitive as a mother's |, ?one that can love more dearly I Is e here one who will watch in the still night, r, >r when the storm-king is careering wijh I: nit, more carefully, or smooth the pillow, j, lid wipe the moisture more gently from t' he sorterer's brow i We think not. tl "Ma, c in you pluck one of those white tl ones from the bush that grows in the * niddle of the garden I" said Ellen, as her a ender parent kissed her brow, so beauti- n ully w hite, and smoothed back the dark f, resses that adorned her child's head. "I e ove to look ujion tho white rose?it is an a inblem of innocence and purity ; and am h not innocent, ma." |, Mrs. ,S retired from tho room,but tl (K>n returned, bringing tho flower for i liieh her sick child nad a-<ked. a Ellen stretched out her white arm, at- a enuated by disease, and her Angers tier- tl ouslv grasped the favorite rose. a, "llow beautiful! and its odor is so tl grecable," Haiti the pale girl; bnt, ina, I ^ nt very weak, my limbs are chilled, and jr et no |>ain racks my frail hotly. I know c, hat soon my voico shall be hushed, and j? liese lips that now are almost colorless, **] rill be cold, yes, icy cold, to the touch. )fl Jut I will not talk of dying, for itdistres- n, es you, dear ma ; ami oh! I would rather ee the sweet smilo upon your face, than ^ ntnosa the outhursting of your sorrow. t,| 'ako this rose and place it near me, that uy eyes may often rest upon it; ami then these orbs shall havo lost their j? rightness, and are put out by death, then p, st this simple flower bo placed in uiy |a ands, that they who may gaze upon my & tale features may say, She was pure, she rs* innocent, even pure as Uie rose in her :y fingers." \> "My child," whispered the mother, "are ft on willing to die f Would you not rathr live to comfort mo when the frosts of ge ahall havo whitened my hair f Can 1 I >L > 1A- - -- <714 wiimi^iy leave rarni aim iu pie*- ni urn, your own quirt home, and the moher wIk? hits ever loved you! Oh, Ellen, c) illon," cried the affectiuuat? parent, aa & he sorrow of her heart bunt forth, "what b hall I do) My childrcu,dear little ones, g rhere are tbey f Gone, gone, and you, helaat ??f all, my only hope, are to be orn also from me 1 oh, how shall I bear life aorrow r and the distressed .nether o ugged to her boaem the dear one o# her a leart, and aobbed bitterly. tl "Dear ma," said Ellen, aa she endeavor- q d to wipe away her mother's tears, "I ii annot stay with you, for death haa fasened his icy fingers upon me. Earth's ileasures are worth nothing to me, and et I would fain live to make you happy, = o watch over your bedside in the time f sickness, and receive your dying hies ing; but this cannot be; ere nightfall ay spirit shall have taken its departure, hall be at rest forever." Tho afternoon was closing. The orb of s< lay hnd,nearly finished his course, and yet b Illcn sluniliered. Her mother still sat ti iear tho bed, watching anxiously the nr hauges as thov passed over the counten- fc nee of her loved one. At length Ellen | p pened her eyes, and while those lustrous rbs were fixed upon her mother's face, oe whispered, feebly: " Ma, I am almost there; tho way is feasant and not dark to me. Givo mc our hand, ma; oh, I shall soon be at otne. See, 111a, see yonder," continued A lie sinkinc ehilrt n? ?t?n i?iinin/l 0 ..w ?..v j'V?..vvv? wnrtiun 111 eavcn, "there are beautiful beings beck- ta ning me to ooine to then), and they are sj inging sweet music; do you not hear le Item i Oh, happy spirits, 1 shall soon be in -ith you ! Farewell, ma, we must now ri art, but not forever." si Her hand fell upon the bed, and the tothcr saw that the silver cord was about in t be loosened, that her dear child was to s\ e taken from her. Kllen whispered ai gain: 01 "Ma, that white rose, remendter to placo it , in my hand when I am dead ; weep tl ot, 1 ant going home to see pa, and sister w nd dear little Walter, too. Now, ma, kiss k< te. You have often kissed me when I hi it upon your knee, talking to you in til rattling, child-like innocency, and now hi iss me again?it will be the parting kiss it ntil we meet above. Oh, I am about to I ill asleep in the arms of death, and awa- pi en in that world where the sun never tl uts." tl Her voice faltered, and the'mother hent f<j cr head closely to the lips of her child ; d< nd these Inst words echoed in her ear, nl?home?to live?in?heaven." Silence reigned in that little room?oh, es! for that pure spirit had taken its j ight to the mansions of glory. Her sun of life had disappeared behind lie hemisphere of mortality, and the nto- J Iter closed the eyes of her departed Kllen, nd, while the big tears coursed o'er her J(| hecks, sobbed aloud, " Farewell, nty Kl- (> Mi, my last, my only hope!?farewell, ^ hild of tny bosoin, until 1 meet theo in ? Hat happy home where thou shall be artcd from mo no more H1 Homier, it was her last tie. a The Wrong Man. ri Justly so, reader! A gentleman ol this ^ ountry once took a notion that he would ;cep a Hotel in a neighboring village, and ot being able to build a very fine house, e built a log cabin, which was very small, nd contained only two beds, one single nd the other double. So one night a ankee came in very much inebriated, ^ :illed for a bed, the landlord put him in ^ lie single bed. Directly an Irishman came j, called for lodging, and went into the ousc; he had imbibed so much of the <1 turning dew, lie could think of hut one g' liing, and that was, ho had promised a iend to meet liini at a certain place (the d; istancc of which was twelve miles,) and ?l barged the landlord particularly, to wake lini up early next morning. Ho he retir- " d to bed. Directly a colored gentleman a ?de up, and asked to stay all night; the ludlord studied some moments almut (' crmitting liiin to stay, as he had but <* wo beds, and a white man in each of w liem; so at last he thought to himself that R lie negro's money was not to he despised, w o he concluded to let the darkey stay, nd put him in bed with Pat. After the ei ?*gr<> had gono to bed some time, l.e ^ >und out that the Irishman was intoxient- bl tl, ami concluded that he would play him P1 trick. So the negro rose, and took a n unit cork and blacked the Irishman, as w lack as the old gentleman who inhabit* \ 01 ie region* below. ni Next morning tl.o Irishman, turning'*u bout in the bc<l, dif covered that ho hail bedfellow; so he raised up and looked at Q le negro, and falling back, went to sleep ar rrain. Directly the landlord went into le room to wake liiin as he had promis- jej I, and Tat got out of bed and was draw- _ ig in a great hurry, when happening to tst his cyo 011 his hand lie discovered that . was black, said he to the landlord:? . Landlord is that hand black?" The mdlord told him that it was. Ho looked 80 t the other, and saw that it was black; e stood and looked with ]>erfeet astonish- br icnt, and said: "Landlord, 'taint poesi- la: le my face is black, is it?" in "Yew," the Landlord told him. After standing and looking with aston- W( hmeut for some momenta, a new idea jn opped into hi* head, ami he said to the (j# aid lord (looking at him with a pleasing Mintenance:) "I have just found out the mistake? ru have toakrd the negro, not me and fo at jumped into hod again, feeling satis- A ed that the landlord had not waked him. a _ ? ^ *v th Tub Fl'TURB.?It has been beautifully e, ii?l. that "the veil which covers the face _ r futurity i? woven by the hand of Merjr. Heek not to raise that veil, therefore, e] ?r sadness might be seen to shado the y row that fancy had arrayed in smiles and Indites*." 0j .. . tc k He that clothes the poor, clothes his no wn soul. He that sweetens the cup of w ffliction, sweetens his owa heart. He di liat feeds the linngry, spreads oat a baa- w uet for himself, more sweet ami refresh- y ig than luxury can beetow. w Jtlcrtfii 5lrtirlps7 ^< rcwi From the Southern Cultivator. Valuable Recipes. be doi Mkssrs. Editors.?llelow I send vou Dii ;veral Recipes which I know to be val'ua- ^u" lo, from long experience. I am (juite oul red of the Inbor of writing then) oil for cor iv acquaintances. and send them to ron cor ir publication, hoping thus to l?enefit the W< ublic generally. ing Yours, wry respectfully, nes iMKCKi.KNmnt.-H, the of Tuinea. on Panola County, Mis*., July 22, 1852. it pru To rnwsERVR IIkef in June, July or 4 uorsT.?Kill your Beef late in the oven- rco g, cut up in five or six pound pieces, dcr itc the bones out of the quarters, salt, to ] >read, and let it remain for tho night, to hi 1 t the bloody water escape. Next morn- is ] ig, pack in barrels, the fleshy pieces and the bs in ono barrel, and tho back bone, Tin irloin and rump in Another. boi Have a strong pickle boiled the even- otli g you kill the beef, sufficiently strong to Sta vim an egg; add one pound of saltpeter hoi id four pounds of brown sugar to tho i?h to thousand pounds of meat, and mix elm w ith the pickle. 1'our tho cold brine on est< le beet in the morning, first having put to eight on the beef, mutton or vension, to Ish Sep it down, and cover the meat with tioi -inc. As soon as a white foam rises on ujk ic top of the brine, skim it off, boil the arc rine over, let it stand until cold, and pour cle on your meat again. If salt is plenty, ly i prefer a new pickle. I have eat beef nal reserved hv this uriw** nt nmv ;? ?.i to liont of ?ummer, perfectly Round, nb< iree week# in pickle; and those who will nn< llow the above directions, may expect to pri o the same. mm To cure Chills and. Fevers.?Having a uarter on the bank of the Mississippi, here chills and fevers are very common, use 8t<>ugh ton's Hitters in doses of from to to two table sjioons full, three times == er day, for two or three weeks, first giv- Ck ig a blue mass pill, and stopping one troxysin with quinine. This preparation f tonic bitters I consider superior to any 'at( ther I have seen; it break up the eonRtional predisposition in the system tochills j'K nd fevers, give tone to the stomach, and enovate the system. 1 have used it lor t>? tany years with uninterrupted success, ^ nd make twenty gallons at a time for ^ he use of my ipiarter on the Mississippi cn iver, where a physician has not visited for j,e ighteen months, nor a death for two 'hi ears: f?i Take 34 ounces of Gentian lioot, ''e 2 2-3M of C'inclla Allwi (white bark,) or 8 u of Lignum Quassia, <ja 8 " of Coriander Seed, I'g 12 44 of Orange Peel, P0 4 " of lied Sanders (to color,) j?" .I gallons good Whiskey. jl? hip up the ingredients with a knife, and will l>e ready for use in fourteen days. tat To dye Yarn a deep blue.?Take one- ^ uarter pound of nlum, dissolve it in one ? allon of water, put in three pounds of tfj< #m, boil two hours and dry. Have a ye prepared of one and a half bushels j rpurslain (large field pursley) in a kettle F water, l>oil until done, and the water re- ? ^ need to three gallons; strain and throw ^ way the purslain. At the same time, have another pot of ye, prepared, of half a pound of chipped r ground logwood, and two gallons of ater; lioil down to a half gallon, strain ^y nd put the logwood dye in the purslain ye; boil the same logwood three con soon- ^ ve times in the same way, strain and ^ npty in the purslain dye, so as to extract #n ic logwood. Then add half an ounce of ^ lue stone dissolve! in water, to the dye; ?| nt the yarn in the dye, boil two hours; ng out the dye, and dry. After it is dry, ash the yarn in soap and water. Wool ^ ay be dved by the same process, and erfl ixed cloth or stockings may be manufac- ^ ired of a mixed shade. tra To prevent Horeen from having the qui rube.?Keep the nits off of your horses mo id mules in the fall; if you do, and your to < >rses are taken sick, your time and nicd- of ine will be lost to doctor them for grubs ! Hy -thero will be none there. I wo To take away Warts.?Hub the juice of na< c Salmon Radish on the Warts, twice a wo (y, until llic wart is taken up by the ah- Hn< rbKMit vessels. To stop Hiccough.?Rat a lump of own sugar the sixe of a partridge ogg or rger, and they will cease in a few mo- six cnts. ed To drive Lice from Cabbage.?Tho first u* eek in July 1 sprinkled lime on Cabbage fested with lice, and they loft in a few iys. The remedy deserves further trial. J ! I 1 *ri enclose, you for publication the to Mowing slip from the Baltimore Sun.? an< ny thing that relates to Guano becomes not matter of interest to us. It is now so j iceessfully need tor agricultural purposes, ho iat it ean no longer be re^ndid aa an Go ; penmen L The bigli price however a see reat drawback to the application of it A / are glad to perceive by the following by (tract that we may hope hereafter to ob- soi vin it cheaper. We had an opportunity, ed: few days ago, to witnaaa the "beneficial fecU or guano on cotton. The cotton tia ?which the guano had been applied, waa oking very fine and luxuriant. In the yo kidle of the field were two row* left, to hich no gvaao had been applied?the ap ifieraaoe waa moat aatookhtiig. That tio hich had no guano, will earljunly not an iekl more than a third aa rouoh aa that "p rtkinh Kar TKim fi?LI nt mHm Vi?lm??? K*. Dr. B. 8. Surest, in the lower part of > district, and lien immediately on the id leading from Midway to Fish Ponds, d all who pass that w ay, can view for nn selves, the result of tfie guano. Wo idict that the guano, will another year extensively used in South Carolina, as iibtless the beneficial results in every strict where it has been used, have ly satisfied our people of its utility. In own district, there will no doubt be a isiderablo demand, for it can be easily iveyed to us by means of the rail road, juld it not be well that some enterpris merchant, should embark in the busis of importing the guano directly into cily of Charleston, instead of relying Northern seaports. If brought direct would doubtless much dimmish tho x;:?Palmetto S:ntinel. 1Thk Peruvian Guano Trade.?Tho jnt action of the Government, in oring a portion of the Pacific Squadron protect our merchant vessels engaged the frnann trade nff #li? r\f i O ? VW ?OW V* X VI likely to prove of considerable value to commercial and agricultural interests, e Peruvian government now exacts a iu8 of $12 per ton, making it cost, with er charges, when landed in the United ites, about $27 |>er ton. The trade, Tcvcr, is mainly monopolized by a Britcompany, iu which it is alleged, tho irge to this country from Peru is inter?d, so that our fanners are compelled pay $50 and $00 per ton. The Lobos inds claimed to l>c under the jurisdicl of Peru, though it has no settlement >n them and ntlbrds them no protection said to abound with an excollent artiof guano, and if the trade be proper prosecuted under the protection of our lional vessels, it could be easily deliverin tho United States at a fair profit ivc the actual cost of transportation, 1 at about one-third of the average ce which is charged to tho consumer." fuiihij Bruiting. ristianity Essential to Happiness. Mr. Allison, the distinguished historian, ely delivered a lecture on this subject. ! suggested that where the Christian reion had spread, the people had replcned and subjected the earth in proporn. He exhibited the effects of the untered liberty of pure religion in the corponding liberty of the subject, in modl, as compared with slavery in ancient atlienish kingdoms, lie made manifest influence in it* effects on modern war o?the sparing of the conquered in u of murdering man, woman and child, chaining them in slavery, as in the ys of ancient conquerors, prior to the lit of tho Gospel. Mr. Allison dwelt rticularly on the reign of terror in tho ?at revolution in France. lie showed w, by this fearful vindication of the maty of the Deity, the doctrines of Voire were dashed with signal defeat, by > withdrawal of divine grace and protion from France. In the peopling of aerica, and colonization of new couns?, Mr. Allison pointed out the effect of i Christian religion; the energy and freem of Europeans was invigorated thcrc, in lieu of having the supineness of itlien society. lie reminded us that ! discoveries of Columbus, of the comss, of printing, were contemporary with i Reformation, as if tho snakklea of perstition were to be shaken from us, fore we were allowed to people the vast eatcrn hemisphere. Finally, Mr. Allison demonstrated that iristianitv was rapidly on it* march, and st all things tended to the great connmation in the En*t and Wwt. This did, by skilfully exhibiting Russia a* a litary nation, subjecting by degrees the stern regions of the world, and so upiting heathenism; whilst at the same ic the more tranquil nations of West 1 a1_ -t l * % i jwiunm ineir snoais or lndus>uh emigrants into America and Auslia, where nations had not to be oon2red, and where Christianity could bo re readily extended. In the migration California might be seen the progress the mysterious dispensations of God. degrees, tho band of Christianity uld encircle the whole earth, and those ions still l>ound in Eaatem slavery uld be further influenced, enlightened I mado free. The loot Bank Bote. A was an irreligious man nearly ty years of age. He had long neglectthu house of God, and indulged in tlie ) of profane language. One day last iter he lost a bank note in his barn.? i sought for it several times, but did not i it. At length he said to himself:? hat note is in the bam, and I will search it till I find it!" Accordingly he went the barn, and carefully moved straw 1 hay hour after hour, tiH ho found tho *. He had told tue two months before that knew that his soul was not right with w mo a uouei me ana k salvation. His anxiety increased.? few weeks after lie lost the note he sat the fire musing on the state of his il, when he turned to his wife and asku What must one do to become a Chrianr "Yon must seek for it," she replied, "as ? sought for the bank note." She said no more. It was "a word fitly ?ken." fie tried to follow the dirseo, and thinks that, through the grace d mercy of Christ, he has found the sari of ?reat mice." and rriouv i*? pe and gkny <* God.