Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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_ . 4 ~ A REFLEX OF POPULAR EVENTS. " DcooleiJ Jo jli'ogiTSS, tl)t ?iig!)ts of Jl)e Soul!), onir tl)t Diffusion of itscful tiuoulleitgc omoug alt Clossfs of ll'orhing iiini. VOLUME IV. GREENVILLE, SOUTH CAROLINA, THURSDAY MORNING, ?UNE 18* 1857. NUMBER 6. 4 . ???? _ <&J)t #nutl)frtt Cutcrprxar /? IS ISSUED EVERY THURSDAY MORNING, BY PRICE & McJUNKIN. j J WILLIAM P. PRICE, EDITOlt AND PROPRIETOR. C. k. M'JUNKIN, PRINTER. TERMS. Ok* Dollar and Fifty Cents in advance; Two Dollars if delayed. CLUBS of FIVE and upwards, Onk Dollar, the money in every instance to accompany the order. ADVERTISEMENTS inserted conspicuously at the rates of 75 cents per square of 13 lines for the first insertion, ana 37} cents for each subsequent insertion. Contracts for yearly advertising made reason able. AGENTS. W. W. Walker, Jr., Columbia, S. C. Pktkr Stradley, Esq., Flat Rock, N. C. A. M. Pkdkn, rairview p. u., (.reenville Jmt. | Wiuum 0. Bailkt, Pleasant Grove, Greenville i Capt. It. Q. Anukraos, Enorce, Spartanburg. ^ ^drrttii ],%trij. ! The Exile's Prayer. [In his work on the Mind, Dr. Rush mentions tho fact, attested by clergymen of his acquaintance, that the aged foreigners whom they attended generally prayed, on their death-beds, in their native language, though, in many cases, they had not spoken it for fifty or sixty years.] lie speak* ! The lingering locks, that cold And few and gray, fall o'er his brow, > . Were bright, with childhood's clustered gold, Lw* When last that voice was heard as now. Uo speaks 1 and as with dickering blaze Life's last dint embers, waning, burn, Fresh from the unsealed fount of praise, His childhood's gushing words return. Ah! who can lull what visions roll Before those wet and clonded eyes, As, o'er the old man's parting soul. His childhood's wakened mem'ries rise ! The fields are green and gladsome still, That smiled around his sinless home, And back, from ancient vale and hill, Exultant echoes bounding come 1 He treads that soil, the first bo pressed? lie shonts with all his boyish glee? He rushes to his mother's breast? lie clasps and climbs his father's knee? And then?the prayer that nightly rose, Warm from his lisping lips of yore, Burst forth, to bless that evening's close , Whose slumbers earth shall break no more! Dark though our brightest lot may be, From toil to sin and sorrow driven. Sweet childhood ! we have still, in thee, , A link that holds us dear to heaven ! When Mercy's errand angel bears, 'Tis in thy raiment that they shine, And*if one voice reach Mercy's ear, Thatolcssed voice is surely thiuo! God of his father! may the breath That upward waft* the exile's sigh, Rise, fragrant from the lips of death, Aa the first prayer of infancy 1 Frown not, if through his childhood, back, The old man heavenward seeks his way? Thy light was on that morning tiack, 1 It can but lead to Thee and day ! Social Lovk.?How sweet is social affection ! When the world is dark without, we have light within. When cares disturb the breast, when sorrow broods about the heart, what joy gathers in the circle we love! We forget the world, with all its animosities, while blessed with social kindness.? That man cannot be unhappy, who has liearts that vibrates in sympathy, with his own, who is cheered by smiles of affection end the voice of tenderness. Let the world be dark and cold, let the hate and animosity of bad men gather about him in the place of business?but when ho enters the ark of love, his own cherished circle, he forgets all these, and the sorrow from the heart. The warm sympathies of lus wife and children dispel every shadow, and lie feels a thrill of joy io his bosom which words are not adequate to express, fie who is a stranger to the joys of social kindness has not begun to lire. Last Words.?"Talk to me now in Soripture language alone," SAid a dying Christian. " l can trust the word of Ood ; but when they are the words of inan, it costs rne an effort to think whether I may trust ic them." This was the testimony of one who died in the morning of life. ** Charles, bring me tne Bible," said a dying father. The weak sufferer laid his thin, pale-band, on the blessed hook, and said, * t rterin Christ" How pleasant are the last hours of the Christian I And how often have they borne to the trembling the assurance that death has no ttibg, and the grave no victory T Who would not bear the cross on earth to wear the erown in heaven t " Who, if Ood be there, Would heeitate to treed deetli'e narrow vale, And die to live forevevt** I JHisrdlnnrnus limbing. A Graphio Picture of Napoleon. Tiio personal appearance of Napoleon, in the last days of his power, is thus described by Lamartine, and will be interesting as coming from his pen, though we doubt very much its correctness: " The empire had made him old before bis time. Gratified ambition, satiated pride, the delights of a palace, a luxurious table, a voluptuous cough, youthful wives, complaisant mistresses, long vigils, sleepless nights, divided between labor and festive pleasure, me uauii 01 constant ruling wtiicti made s lilrn corpulent?all tended to deaden hi* limbs and enervate his faculties. An early abesity overloaded hiin with fldkh. His cheek*, founerly streaked with muscles and , hollowed by the working of genius, were broad, full and overhanging, like those of Otho in the Roman medals of the empire. ] An excess of bile, mingled with the blood, j gave a yellow tint to the skin, which, at a ( distance, looked like a varnish of the pale i ?old on his countenance. His lips still pre- ] served their Grecian outline and steady grace, passing easily from a sinile to a menace. Ilia solid, bony chin, formed an ap propriatc base for his features. His noso was but a line, thin and transparent. The paleness of his cheeks gave greater brilliancy to the blue of his eyes. His look was searching, unsteady as a wavering flame? an emblem of inquietude. His forehead seemed to have widened, from the scantiness of his thin black hair, which was falling Prom the moisture of continual thought. It might be said that his head, naturally small, had increased in size to give ample scope between bis temples for the mnchineiy and combination of a mind, every thought of which was empire. The map of the world seemed to have been entrusted on the oil) of ike reflective head. But it was beginning to yield ; and lie inclined it often on his breast, while crossing his arms like Frederick the Great?an attitude and gesture which he appeared to affect. Unable any longer to seduce hi* courtiers and his soldiers by the chartn of vouth. it was evident he wish ed lo fascinate them by the rough, pensive, and disdainful character of himself?of his model in his latter days. lie moulded himself, as it were, into the statute of reflection, before his troops, who gave him the liickuamo of Father Thoughtful. He assumed the jwse of destiny. Something rough, rude aud savage in its movements, icvenicd his southern aud insular origin. The man of the Mediterranean broke out constantly through the Frenchman. Ilis nature, too great and too powerful for tho part he had to play, overflowed on all occasions, lie bore no resemblance to any of the men , around hiin. Superior and altogether different, he was an offspring of the sun, of the sea, and of the battle field?out of his ele inent even in his own palace, and a stranger even in his own empire. Such was at this period the profile, the bust, and tho external physiognomy of Napoleon." [From the Lady's Casket, Indian Spring, Gn.] Lite of a Piece of Tobacco. My first recollection is, that of being press ed very closely in a large square box, with many of my associates. And I think they were very warm friends, for they all gather- 1 ed so closely around me, that it was impossible for >ne to move or scarcely get a breath of air. Well, wo were put upon a steamer, aud sent to New York, aud placed in a 1 large store in Hroadway. It was not long before the cover was removed from tho box in which we were lying, and there we were exposed to the gaze of all passers by. At last, i ucgnii 10 miss some ul my companions. One jy one, lhoy were carried away, until I begun to bo very lonely. Hut one day, us I lay there thinking of iny departed friends, and wondering if 1 should ever again see them, a young gentleman came along, and, taking me in his hand, seemed to adiniro ine very much, nnd, to iny utter astonish ment, the saucy follow raised me to his mouth, and, placing me under that heavy moustache, bit a piece from the corner of me, about four inches each way, and then ordered me to he rolled up in paper, placed me in his pocket, and marched otf with me. Hut that corner which he severed was twistod and turned and revolved in his mouth, until ho saw a young lady coming up the street, when it was suddenly dashed to the ground, as though it had been so much (ire ; nnd as the lady approached, you would have thought that the young man had nev- ( er Doen guilty or the least impertinence in his whole life. How deceitful ! Hut so it is, and so 1 was doomed to be used the re mainder of my days?for as often as once in twenty minutes, I must be decreased by four or five inches, until I was scattered all over the hide-walk, in pieces about half as large as a hen's egg. But, reader, this was not the last of me. There I lay for weeks; no one would take the least notice of roe?even the dogs would turn up their nose at ine. But as I said before, this was not the last of mo. One sunny day there carae along a little ragged urchin, with a basket on his arm, who picked me up and placed me ju the basket, where, to mv joyfVil surprise, I met all my aid associates, who landed with me in the :ity. They, like myself, had been torn in pieces, and crushed in the jaws of some ter- j rible mouth. Well, the little fellow tugged ! is along through many streets, rind finally! daced us in some kind of a manufactory ; ind as it is said we must all turn to dust, so t was with me. 1 was ground as fine as he finest of dust; several little black cofiins sere then brought along, about five inches ong and three inches wide, and in theso. we were all carefully packed, and the coflin lid :loscd over us, and to prevent the air from jetting in, they sealed the lid with wax, (to nnko it air tight,) and the only words which were placed upon our coffins were imply these?" Pure Macaboy Snuff." A Beautiful Illustration. . UK WATCH : IRON MORE USEFUL THAN GOLD. " I have now in my hands," said Edward Sverett, "a gold watch, which combines em >eiiismnciit and utility in happy proporions, and is often considered a very valua>le appendage to the person of a gentleman. Its hands, face, chain, and case aro of chas;d and burnished gold. Its gold seals iparklo with the ruby, topaz, sapphire, emerald. I open it and find that the works, ivilhout which this elegantly furnished case ivould be a mere shell?those hands moiotdess, and those figures without meaning ?aro made of brass. Investigating further ind asking what is the spring, by which all .hese are put in motion, made of, 1 am told, t is made of steel! 1 ask, w hat is steel ? The reply is that it is iron which has undergone a certain process. So, then, 1 find the mainspring, without which the watch would nlways be motionless, and its hands, figures, and embellishments but toys, is not gold [that is not sullicieiitly good,) nor of brass, [that would not do,) hut of iron. Iron, therefore, is the only precious metal ! and this watch an emblem of society. Its hands and figures, which tell the hour, resemble the master spirits of the age, to whose movements every eve is directed. Its useless but sparkling seals, sapphires, rubies, topazes, and embellishments are the aiistociaey. Its works of brass are the middle class, by the increasing intelligence and power of which the master spirits of the age are moved ; and its iron mainspring, shut up in a box, always at work, but never thought of except when it is disorderly, broke, or wants wind ing up, symbolizes the laboring class, which, like the mainspring, wo wind up by the payment of wages, and which classes are kiiui tip in ODSCUrily, and though constantly at work, and absolutely necessary to the government of society, as the mninspring to the gold watch, are never thought of, except when they require their wages, or nre in some want or disorder of some kind or other." The political and industrial rights and Erivileges of the laboring classes should not e lost, sight of by legislators. Educate and develop them, and-they, in return, will bring iron out of the mountains in greater' abundance; will, by their superior intelligence, invent machinery, by which most of the labor of life may bo performed ; " niako two blades of grass grow where but one grew before and thus as in other things set the world ahead. The locomotive, steam-engino, telegraph, priuting-press, sowing-inachines, mowers, reapers, seed planters, harvesters, and 80-forth, will continue to be invented and improved just in proportion to the education and development of our people, and especially of the working classes. [Life Illustrated. " Study Men, Not Books." Oh, but books are such safe company ! They keep your secrets well; they never uoast mat tuey made your eyes .glisten, or your clieek flush, or your heart throb. Yon may take up your favorite author, ami love him at a distance juft as warmly as you like, for all the sweet fancies and glowing thoughts that have winged your lonely hours so fleetly and so sweetly. Then you may close the book, and lean your cheek against the cover, as if it were the face of a dear friend ; shut your eyes and soliloquise to your heart'o content, without fear of misconstruction, even though you should exclaim in the fulness of your enthusiasm, " What an adorable soul that man has!" You may put the volume under your pillow, and let your eye and the first ray of morning light fall on it together, and no Argus eyes v r-vk vai? at -"i- ? ? - nuun I WW J wu vi VIIHk UCIItlUUO IfilMI I f, I1U carping old maid, or straight-laced Pharisee shall cry out, " it isn't proper 1" You may have a thousand petty, provoking, irritAling annoyances through the d'iy, and you shall come back again to your dear old book, and forget them all in dieamland. It shall be a friend that shall be always at hand; that shall nevor try yon by capripe, or pain you by forgetfulness, or wound you by distrust. " Study inen I" Well, try it I I don't believe there's any neutral territory where that interesting study enn be pursued as it should be. Ijefore you get to the end of the first chapter, they'll be making love to you from the mere force of habit-T-and because silks, and calicoes, and delaines, naturally suggest it. It's just as natural to then) a* it is to sneeze when a ray of sunshine fliUhea suddenly in their fa ces. 44 Study men 1" that's a game, my dear, thnt two can play at. Do you supj?ose they are going to sit quietly down and jet you dissect their hearts, without returning the compliment f No, indeed ! that's where they differ slightly from 44 books "? they always expect an equivalent. Men are a curious study ! Sometimes it payB to read to 44 tho etid of the volume," and then again, it dou't?mostly the latter! [Fanny Fern. Woman. It is a woman's nature to yearn and droop for love?to shrink in agony from a lonely path?to long for some sympathising bosotn i to which she can trust her sorrows. She looks to man, her natural protector. No I true-hearted woman but lias this feeling i horn with her, implanted there by God him- < self, but it is doomed, loo often, to find on I earth no such loving rest. The warm affoc- i lions of her heart are too often crushed by i bitter neglect and cold indifference; too of- i ten is she betrayed whore most she trusted, i and therefore is her lot so sad. Despairing and broken hearted, she turns from earth to heaven. But when she can at once realize I that she is the subject of a love as immeas i urably superior in consolation and thought, i and changeless sympathy to that of man, as the heaven is above the earth ; when she can once feel that she has a friend, who will never leave her, nor forsake her?in whose pitying ear she may pour forth her trials and griefs, either petty or great, which she would not, even if she might, confide to man, secure not only of pity, but healing? when she is conscious she is never lonely? never left to her own weakness, but iu her very need will have strength infused?then is she blessed that she is no more lonely, no more sad. And the word of God will give us his thrice-blessed consolations not in his gracious promises alone, though they themselves would be sufficient, but in his dealings with llis creatures. Tub Bi.erbkd IIomk.?Home ! To be nt home is the wish of the seaman on stormy seas and lonely watch. Home is the wish of tho soldier, and tender visions mingle with the troubled dreams of trench and tented field. Where the paint tree waves its graceful plumes, and brides of jeweled lustre flash and flicker among gorgeous flowers, the exile sits staring upon vacancy ; a far away home lies upon bis heart, and borne upon the wings of faucy over intervening seas and lands, be lias gone away home, and hears the laik singing above bis father's fit-Ids. and see* his fair haired brother, with light foot and childhood's glee, chasing the butterfly by his native stream. And in his best hours home, his own si mess home, a home with his Father above that starry sky, will be the wish of every Christian man. lie looks nrovind him?the world is full of suffering; he is distressed by its sorrows and vexed with its sins. IIo looks within him?he finds much in his own corruptions to grieve for. In the language of a heartrepelled, grieved, vexed, he often turns his eyes upward, saying " I would not livo always." No, not for all the gold of the world's mines?not for the pearls of her seas ?not for all the pleasure of licr flashy, frothy cup?not for the crowns of her kingdoms? would I live here always." Like a bird about to migrate to those sunny lands where no winter sheds her snows, or strips the grove, or binds tbe dancing streams, lie will often in spirit be pluming bis wing for the hour of his flight to glory.? Guthrie. [From the Chester Standard.] Mistur EJytur : The prevnlcn cpydemick ov hoop sknrts an krinoline hev so waid on ini mind that I am kompelld to hold forth on perucKier okasiiuns ana 1 hope you will git sun) kompitent muzishuner to ficks tLe followin lines to muzik : The krinoline ar all the go Sinls hoops hev kum in fashun Whailbone skurts sum twelve fete round Ar now the rnlin pashun The children kii ef mania shood Happen to be mariid An az for sis An little Tom Tha kanl at all be karrid I thank mi stArze that I wur born Afore the hoopin pashun An got mi groth afore the da Ov krinoline aalvashun Im not afeard ov hoopin koflf Nor hoops round barl produkshun Hilt I am afeard ov lad is hoops With sech a spase ov sukshun Joint war the first that tridc The whailbone round his karkass But now it is a kommun thing To see it on the karkeys Tore Jona did not like the stile When he war kwite awaken An prad to God to free him from j Sick a kondfounded takin. A BONIS. IIoops.?Lately, as a lady was stepping front tho oars of the Toledo, Wabash and Western Railroad, at Napoleon, her dress j caught on the steps and, the oars being in motion, she WHS drawn some-thirty feet before her hoops gave way. flha was not seriously injured, though the wars bad?d |y wrecked. Concealed Weapons.?Theie are two things which gentlemen never do; one is writing anonymous letters; the other is carrying concealed weapons. Of course, there are occasions when a man. knov ittg thai he is to be nttucked, may fairly carry weapons which he does not display. But no gentleman habitually secretes knives and pistols* about his person, unless he lives among savages or wild beasts. The reasons for this are obvious. It is an entirely uufair advantage, not only physically, but morally ; for a man will not be likely to restrain his tongue or his temper when he knows that he has the means of effectually silencing his opponent?and knows also that his opponent cannot possibly be aware of that fact. It was all fair and right enough when every gentleinau openly wore his sword at his side. Certainly. it was hail enough then, hut lhr>r? wiut nothing concealed. But to hide your knife mid pick a quarrel, or to engage in a quarrel, knowing that you have a knife hidden, is as bad as inviting your enemy to drink wine which you have poisoned. Decent society is not possible upon such terms. We nro all so purely unchristian and petulent, that anything which serves to unbridle our tongues and loose our wrath, as concealed weapons inevitably do, postpones and postpones an)' happier day. Value ov Time.?The Homan Emperor ssid, " 1 have lost a day ho uttered a sadder truth than if he hud exclaimed, " I have lost a kingdom." " Napoleon said that the reason why he beat the Austiians was that they did not know the value of five minutes. At the celebrated battle of Bivoli, the conflict seemed on the point of being decided against him. He saw the critical state of atlairs and instantly took his resolutions. lie dispatched a flag to the Austrain head quartets, with proposals for an armistice. The unwary Austrains fell into the snare?for a few minutes the thunders of battle wero hushed. Napoleon seized tho precious moments, and, while amusing the enemy with mock negotiations, he re arranged his lino of battle, changed his front, and in a few minutes, was ready to renounce the farces of discussion for the stern arbitrament of arms. The splendid victory of Bivoli was tho result. The great moral victories and defeats of the world often turn on minutes. Crisis come?tne seizing ot winch is victory, the neglect of which is ruin. Men may loiter, but time flies on the wings of lime, and all the great interests of life are speeding on with the sure and silent tread of destiny. Mothers.?By the quiet fire-side of home, the true mother in the midst of her children, is sowing as in vases of earth the seeds of plants that shall sometime give to Ileaven the fragrance of their blossoms, and whose fruit be a rosary of angelic deeds, the noblest offering that she can make through the ever-ascending and ever-expanding souls of her children to her Maker. Every word that she utters goes from heart to heart with a power of which she little dreams. Philosophers tell us in their speculations that we cannot lift a finger without moving the distant spheres. Solemn is the thought, but not more solemn to the Christian mother than the thought that every word that fulls from her lips, every expression of her countenance, even in the sheltered walk and retirement, may leave an indellible impression upon the young souls around her, and form as it were the underling strain of that education which peoples Heaven with that celestial being, and gives to the white brow of the ar.gel next to the grace of God its crown of glory. Tub Female Tkmi'Kr.?No traits of char actor is mote valuable in a female than the possession of a sweet temper. Home can never be marie happy without it, it is like the flowers that spring up in our pathway, reviving and cherishing us. Let a man go home, at night, wearied and worn by the toils of the day, and how soothing is a word dictated by a good disposition ! It is sunshine falling on his heart. lie is happy, and the cares of life are forgotten. A sweet temper has a soothing influence over the minds of a whole family. Where it is found iu the wife and mother, you observe kindness and love predominating over the natural feelings of a bad heart. Smiles, kind words and looks characterize the cbil dren, and peace and love have their dwelling* there. Study, then to acquire and retain a sweot temper. It is more valuable than gold, and it captivates more than beauty, and to the close of life it retains all its freshness and power. Lord Napirr in Boston,?It is reported that Lord Napier, the new British Min isler at Washington, has been invited to visit Boston under the auspices of the Young Men's Christian Association, for the purpose of delivering an address at the grand anniversary festival of that society on the evening of thj|f$tftb inst. Tub Dahlonega (Oa.) 8ignal tells a sorrowful tale of the toarcity of provisions in Urttt and adjacent countias. Great suffering, it thiuks, is inevitable. Kkri? Youu Sabbath.?be jealoQs on this point. Whetlier you Jive iu town o^ country, resolve to profane your Sabbath, and in the end you will give over caring for your soul. The #te|>s which lead to this are regular, begin with not honoring, God's day, and you will not honor God'# house; cca*e to honor God'# book, and by and by you will give God no honor at all. Let any one lay the foundation with no Sabba'li, and I am never surprised if he finishes with 1 the topstone of no God. It was a rem&rka- . ble saying of Judge llale, that of all person# convicted of capital crime# while he Has upon the bench, and lie found not a few who did not confess that they began their caieer of wit kedixss by neglect of the Sabbath. w m.??- .m Tiik Law ok the FixgkuRino.?If a gentleman wants a wife, he wcnrs a ring on the first finger of the left hand ; if he is ehgaged, he wears it on the secoud finger \ if married, on the third ; and on the fourth, if * ho never intend# to get married. When a lady is not engaged, she wears a diamond ring on her first tiigor; if engaged, on iho second } if married, on the third ; and on the fourth, if she intends to be n maid. When a gentleman presents a fan. a flower, or trinkets to a lady, with the left hand, this, on his part, is an overture of regard ; should she receive it with the left hand, it is considered as an acceptance of his esteem ; but if with the right band, it is a refusal of the offer. Thus, by a few simple tokens, oxI plained by rule, tho passion of love i# expressed. _ A Punoknt Remake.?The New Yorlc correspondent of the St. Louis Republican gets off tho following : 44 One of those wretched creatures cnlledf l punsters (so calh d because they will be puu, ished in some future slate for having sci wantonly tortured the English language in this) met the editor of the Evening Mirror at the Astor House the other morning. Col. Fuller, with his usual uibanity, took the wretched creature by tlie hand and said : 4 Oood morning Mr. ?, you arc looking ery well to day, sir.' The being replied, 41 am r.ot very well, Colonel, but I suppose you think I am, because I am looking Fuller iu the face.' n The Newberry Mirror, in an article on Sale-day, thus alludes to the crops iu that District: 44 The weather had been wawn for the past week, and on the whole favorable to tho slowly growing crops. We heard much complaint as to the stand of cotton in all parts of the District. It is poor, and particularly in the gray soils. Corn is very backward. We have seen some very good wheat and oats. The prospects are not very flatleting, and it is generally conceived that the small supply of cotton will keep negro property at a price not less than the prices of last fall and winter." The Weather and Ckoi-8.?Within the last few days wo have had quite a spell of cloudy weather and rain, and in some portions of the District hail. The piospect | fir an abundant wheat crop, we lea n, h nnc. ana should the rust not take it, the yield will Le largely over an average. We trust the expectations of the fainier ma}* be realised to the fullest extent, and that the graneries throughout the land may over* llow with abundance.?Abbeville Banner. The Cotton Prospect.?We have never heard as general nnd loud complaints, at this season of the year, as our farmers are now making about the prospects of the cotton crop. ()ne planter of considerable skill and means whom we know of, has plowed' up every foot of his cotton crop nnd planted the ground in corn. Others are engaged in doing the same thing, to a partial extent. [Chester Standard. Interesting Baptism.?Capt Holley, a religious master of a vessel, returned recently from a three months' voyage, and such had been tho effect of his precept and .example, that his entire crew became devoted proiessors 01 religion, ami were imposed on'w Sunday last in Boston, by a Baptist clergy-' man. ? ! ? A man named Nugent, a watcliniaker and occasional doctor, lias been arrested in Concord, N. 0., charged with robbing graveyards of their contents. On the diacoverv of his guilt, which he afterward*' confessed, tl e citizens of the place manifested a strong disposition to lynch him, but be anticipated them by dying from fright. ... ? ? Tiiat Plantation.? The Vicksburg MM * I I !_ r J . li . _ I a . v> nig nas ueen iniormea wiai ninety-six names have been obtained to the propositions to buy a plantation for President Pierce, each subscriber to pay $1,000. It was not doubted that tho remaining four would be obtained. ?? Twc Fairfield Herald aaya of thA crops; " Corn, instead of being three feet high, aa the season would demand, is not on art average one foot; cotton stands pretty fair, but stinted by the cold weather."