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- ' V y ' THE CAMDEN JOURNAL. ' - . , -i; ,. ? ?? ??i????????ap? w???mmmmmmmmmmqm [HEW SERIES.] VOL. I. CAMDEV, SOUTH C1ROLIIVA, SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 19, 1840. - v NO48. - i 'J*;??; Z P ETRY. FOR TIIE JOURNAL. PROM THE NOTES OF A TRAVELLER. On the disk of a sun dial, erected over the chapel door of a convent, in Southern Italy, is this exquisitely chaste and beautiful inscription, " Horas non nuraero nisi soronas." My imagination at once caught the inspiration of tho classic thought. Life is only valuable for its happiness. True Philosophy consists in the discernment of what is good?in the enjoyment of the sunbright events of life?-in reflecting then as it were upon the circle of influence?and wisely suf. faring the unavoidable ills of timo to pass by unhecd. ed under their own shadows. What an enviable view of the monastic life! Undisturbed by the cares of the world, the iioly Brotherhood needed no monitor to worn them of the hours rapidly but calmly passing away. Emblematic of the blessed eternity from which it was derived, time is the portion of life which should be regarded only for the reflection made upon it from the day spring on high. The following lines contain a loose paraphrase of the sentiment. nORAS NOil XUS1ERO NISI SERENAS. 1 Count not the fleeting hours ^ That transient sunbeams give, Thro' stormy clouds above liim For erring man to live. 2 Count not the passing life time When charging seasons roll, O'er dying things around him The death sleep of the soul. 3 Hours, days, and years, that dimly In troubled cycles flew, Are like the tidos of ocean, By icebergs frozen thro'. 4 When clouds of time are scowling, As o'er the stormy sea, They need a ray of sun-light, To show as how they flee. 5 These shadows e'er they leave us, And vanish into night, Can only show their foot prints By ray8 of solar light. 6 Butoount the hours that calmly. On heaven's dial shine, That when timo's prospects fail thee Eternity be thine. P." VOX THE JOURNAL v THE PINE TREE. I came to the place with a pilgrims devotion, When the days of my childhood and youth paos'd away. And I saw the blest spot with a fearful emotion, All covered with ruins of time and decay. The last rays of light o'er the streamlet had faded, The birds were all bush'd 'noath the moons silver beam, ? "nnKw otto ftinnM Innor mrvofl f Yint I The old scathed pine tree that grew by the stream. The time beaten pine tree?the moss covered pine tree, The old ragged pine tree that grew by the stream. t When I thought of the past, how like a wild vision, Were the days I Aad spent near that tree in its bloom, With friends that I loved, and with pleasures Elysian, That the dark wing of time has swept into the tomb! . . These?these are all past in the dim retrospection Of times and of seasons one cannot redeem, But mem'rv delights to bring a now recolloction, Oi the old icatned pine tree that grow by tho stream, The time beatou piac tree?the moss covered pine tree, The old ragged pine tree that grow by the stream. And still I most love thoe, thou moss covered pine tree, With thy wjld naked limbs which the winter blasts ware, Till the cold hand of fate shall in mercy consign me, To moulder like thee in the shade of the grave. Abd whilst to the v.-.lo of oblivion descending, A moon.beam of hope o'orthe pilgrim shall gleam, 'Twill be as that emblem of life never ending, On the old scathod pine tree that stands by the stream, The timo beaten pine tree, the moss covered pine tree, The old ragged pine tree, that stands by the sUcam, ISLA, FOR THE JOURNAL. IN ECLLESIA CUPIDINI. In horto cireumvolitans, Melissa labrum mire, Am oris gaudet dormitans, Sub flasculs ferive. Abreptus somno et genas, Florutn rare abetersit, Multasque fundene lachrymas, Iracuncboe pepercit. In sabbato, et anima, aEger corde hoc mane, Peterct in ecclesia, Negotium inane. Sed salute pro corporis, Juvenie tam solita, Plena esse torporis Feruntur Loecco fompla. Et illic fas ingeracret, Amori ut fremitu Maria ni curaveret Lavaro in sospitu. Tunc calor sunt ot sanitas Poero advolanti,? Sed more consoquitur nefas Juanni id cononti. TYRO. Miscellaneous. From, the Southern Ladies Book. ADDRESS, Py the President of the Georgia Female College, to the^Graduating Class, Delivered on the 16th July, 1840. Published by request of the Board of Trustees. Young Ladies :? I rise to perform the last duty connected with my official relation to you. We have all looked to this hour with anxiety and hope. The work of instruction is done; its cares, its toil, its longings, are with the past. To-day our connection is dissolved ?the fellowship of mind is over, and the feelings which have commingled abouttne altars of learning must now be gathered up and girt with fortitude for the parting scene, and life's after changes. You, perhaps, have been wont to contemplate this period in your history with gaiety of spirits, and thought to feel a high breathed joy in the freedom of your future days. The time to come, radient with blessing, robed in the beautiful imaginings of your inexperienced minds, stretches before you a land of dreams, whose rosy hour's dance to the heart's merry bound, but leave no blight nor trace of their harmless revel. No ghostly herald of coming disaster dims with his sepulchral shadow the sunlit path on which your thoughts have travelled. IVo dolorous voice DreaKs on fancy's ear?quelling your bosom's tumultous delight with its melancholy tones. No cloud, not even as a " man's hand," gathers within the range of your eager vision, menacing storm and flood. Hope, the soul's winged bard, gay of plumage, and sweet of song, as Eden's ganden bird, pours forth its subduing melody and lulls every fear to rest. The sWeet illusions of imagination gild the prospect, and the heart leaps up and bounds onward 10 reap uie joys that seem already white unto the harvest. Life's morning all cheery with sentiment and song?redolent of beauty and blessing, dawns brightly, giving promise of a glorious day. You hail the signs, and feel and hope and long to explore tne mysteries that lie hid in the distance, unrevcaled and mute. I would not dissipate your cherished visions with a cynic's breath, nor rudely check the pulse of expectation in its blithsomc play; but it is well to remind you that life is not all poetry, nor earth a gala scene wnere ever}7 eye ueaius weicuuie, and every tongue sneaks praise. The heart's unsheltered delicacy will meet many a buffet; and the lavished sensibilities repulsed and chilled, will oft seek the shelter of theii home?and weary and sad, will lay them down to weep. The defection of friends, love's unrequited tenderness, and the artificial, heartless pretensions that win your confidence, and pierce you at last with a thousand sorrows, must all be looked for, met, endured and overcome. You are expecting happiness where it cani ko rrvnn/J ip itaii -o/aolr if in EVJKr'p hollo I liui- tvuuu) 11 jvu owva ii. mil m. viij a nuuo mid the pageantry and circumstance of pleasure, with her tabret, feast and dance ?or in the gratifications of taste?the pursuits of fashion?devotion to the world? servitude to its ceremonies or in aught that wades, or soars, or shines beneath the stars. The removal of scholastic restraints; may grant you redemption from irksome duties and an introduction to the liberties of social life, but at the same time they give place to sterner demands and more onerous duties. Society has claims upon you, nor can you disregard them without infraction of moral right, and guilty direliction of the hest interests nf vnnrselves and friends. The solitude of parents, the training of the Academy, the literature of the College have all looked to higher ends than the glitter of a name, or the empty reputation of beaury and accomplishments.' The principles which have been inculcated were not lessons designed merely to task your mental powers for successive days, but for wisdom in action?guides in practice?symmetry of character?means of usefulness. High and holy ought ^o be the objects of your ambition?enlarged and vigorous your convictions of duty and moral requirement?indefatigable and ear-" nest your efforts for good?good, diffusive as your acquaintance, and lofty as your j rlpctinv i ^ VUVUIJ | In my humble opinion, a grievous error i has been incorporated into the organiza- ! tion of society, and is recognized as truth, i and supported upon system. The ele- i ments of moral power and social purity 1 have been iujudiciously distributed, and | some of them denied and rejected togeth- s er. "Woman's influence has been under- I rated as to its nature and capabilities, fet- 1 tered and circumscribed as to its opera- 1 tions,and even when acknowledged has 1 been appropriated to ends, though worthy < perhaps, yet far beneath the actual reach s of her power. Woman's empire is the i heart, the poets say, and they say truly; but they have restricted their meaning to I taste and sentiment and sensibility, and to the bland virtues of domestic life, that may exist in utter seperation from those principles that lift man to his true dignity as a moral being, and mould his character as **-- - ? li?:?i. L:? i ?;?;i tree iroui UJUIlUSii m ma puuiiu auu u?u relations, as in his household affections. The practical results, in a narrow range altogether too confined for the power employed, though sufficiently wide for a fair experiment, give fair indications, nay, positive proof, that with the same facilities and encouragements more might and would have been accomplished. Man's attention to woman may be considered to a Targe extent as the test of his civilization. But the progress of society has been measured rather by the refinement of manftcrs than the elevation of principles. Fastidious embellishments,dainty luxuries, effeminate softness in contradistinction from the rough independence of perhaps purer days?a sickly, squeamish delicacy as opposed to the plain simple-hearted honesty and candor of earlier times ; these are the waymarks by which we note our advancement. This is civilization, the march of mind, tne illumination 01 tnc world, cut this is a mere change of manners, a glittering mantle thrown over deformity, a painting of the sepulchre. Why wreath a corpse with garlands when the breath of life is at your command ? Why plant flowers upon a grave when there is a resurrection power ready to expand over the buried at your bidding ? Why put bands of gold and silver upon the lion and fetter him in his cage, that you may fondle without fear of his ferocity, when under your instruction he might become gentle as a ' '?j i c-i l:_ r r_ i r? jamu, aiiu vis ubeiui m ms ireeuum : xcmale influence has softened our rough nature in its external developements, modified our depravity, and made us polite when we might have been clowns. This is the sphere assigned t<v worn fin?in this theatre she has received the plaudits of the pit and the gallery. Shall sympathetic imitation mould these coarse bodies?these heavy muscles into graceful shapes and rnjirtpniis attitudes, and con the charmer do no more ? These are insignificant achievements?lever power to move an infants burden?a lapidary at work' upon common pebbles when gems and jewels are thick about him. Woman can do more. It is her province, her > right, her duty. Minds,morals, characterCome withrin the range of her responsibilities, and her action upon these ought to be cheered, encouraged, upheld by public sentiment. She should trace the lessons of wisdom with a careful hand upon the infant mind ?nature's most impressible page. The xmnla a n/t in nnmKinnfinn oKrvillrl Ko iviigio oiugiu auu 111 wiiimjik^iivu uuuuiu ww worthy of the nature on which they are stamped, and the writing such as would pass the scrutiny of the Eternal eye. She should culture morals with a gardener's care, and the high securities of her approbation and example should enclose the precious interest as a wall of defence. No charge of fastidious feeling ought to check her zeal when she utters her rebuke of sin. No indelicacy imputed when she levels her frown on popular vice. No boldness overstepping the limits of prudence should be set down to her account when she disdains the acquaintance and courtesies of the vicious and the dissipated. No- it is the majesty oi' Virtue in her gentlest form, guarding individual and collective character and the world should do it homage. It, is the cmbodyment of purity?a tutelar divinity rebuking the rage of passion and pronouncing upon vice the sentence of outlawry from the sympathies and endear- j ments of life's most cherished ministry. It is woman loved, and loving, protecting her homestead from the footstep of the ruthless villain?guardingthe Edenofherheart from the blight of the serpents breath and the poison of the serpent's fang. I would that the ladies throughout Christendom were combined inflexibly and sys-1 tematically to refuse their friendship and j society to the profligate and the vile. W hy soould a female be compelled by popular judgment to treat with respect a man whose moral character she despises?deal out the courtesies of life with equal hand to the good and to the bad, to the pious and to the profane ? It is unjust?a compliment to sin?a compromise with wickedness, in which virtue suffers?an uncondi- : tional surrender without reservation or even the promise of mercy from the foe. < It is thus that society nurses the disease that is destroying her. Some vices taint and outlaw a man, while others to which 1 the temptations are more frequent and i powerful, and which are equally subver- I sive of right, good order, and general hap- i [ainess, serve only to classify the individual i without operating any thing like social at- i ainder. The hospitalities of the table? t :he invitations of the family?the assemblies | )f pleasure?the offices of honor, the alii- < inces of friendship and love are all open I rrespectively and without discrimination, i rhcre is no forfeiture of privilege?no in- ( :erdict of familiarity?no scowl of con- ' i tempt nor even look of disapprobation. Moral courage quails before example and yields its recuperative energies to the force of numbers. , Public sentiment and private feeling are right, but general practice is most wofully Wrong. The discrepancy annihilates the influence of opinion, and reduces the community to a state of moral atrophy in which the aliment that might act as nourishment to health, becomes in realitv the food of the disease. To correct this state of things, women can do more 'than Legislatures, or even Churches. They give tone to sentiment ?regulate manners and customs, hold the reigns of social government, and have the will to choose the path and the power to direct the forces. Let them sound principles, right dispositions. Christian moralsas adjuncts in the labor of philanthropy and the corrective will be felt, and the benefits wi U follow. Let the work of reform begin in every department, from the nursery to the marriage scene. Let conscience, truth, opinion, practice correspond fearlessly, impartially; be sustained by the old, the settled, the influential, and a change will go out upon the world bright as a sunbeam, and reviving as the dew. Very few men would, surrender the pleasures of female society, the expectation of domestic bliss, and consent to live despised and outcast for the sake of those degrading enjoyments that now tempt, npt only from their adaptation to' the grosser appetites, but from the fact that tney do ? * ?.?i-ii?cc?* L:,, J:? j noi materially aiieui ma suuiuuig ui owis, ty or his chance of acceptance and prei ferment. Thousands upon thousands ; there are who have nerve and hardihood ' enough to brave the anger of God and ; the woe of the bottomless pit, who yet (lack the courage to confront public opinion and brave the thunders of fashions's vai tican. The caustic wit of offended digni, ty comes upon their nerves like a convulsion of galvanism. These Sybarites quail with terror at the very idea of expatriation from the realm of their adoption, and many of these sons of pleasure who have grown so effeminate that they cannot sleep with a rose-leaf doubled under them, may be stretched upon a bed of thorns by the decree of. a woman. The tortures of anticipated exile from the worship of their ;idol and the glory of the temple .will wring from them a -pledge of ^formation and secure from them the execution of the promise. The inducements to virtue become objects of sight and sense. Time anticipates eternity. The thunders of ? T . tv? i ? -.L. .i j ' me jL<asi uay nave an ecuo in mts uincisions of society and the fires, of retribution are presaged by the scorching contempt of independent and indignant virtue. . ! There is nobleness of mind, generosity of sentiment, honesty that may be i trusted, tenderness that will not fail, away j from religion; but in the fear of God and with affection for my race I charge you? i confide not the fortunes of your body, nor i the peace of your soul to the drunkard's mercy, nor to the gambler's honor. Re- i ject, despise the man who makes fellow- 1 ship with the licentious, or pollutes his 1 lips with the dialect of blasphemy, Link j not your heart and your destiny with him 1 who, too indolent to seek honorable em- < ployment, consents to trespass on the < kindness of friends for his daily bread, i sells his birthrigt to purchase the ease of I a lounger?immolates the independence of i a man for the worthlessness of a drone. < Shun the alliance of the fop?the fool in I the court of fashion, who is indebted to < the tailor's skill for the grace of his figure i and to chemical extracts tor nis Dest re- < commendations?whose altar is the dres- i sing chamber, and the worthless mass of f flesh and blood reflected by the mirrcr, t the god of his idolatry. g I do not mean bv this, that you can t work the mighty change. I would not s have you set up for reformers. But I f would that your personal influence were i on this side of the question. Let your t opinions, your manners, your associations, e all declare your abhorrence of vice, and g your utter separation of sympathy from the sins of fashion, and the errors of the v multitude to do evil, Identify yourselves v with the refined, the intellectual, the be- f; nnnoUnt nnrl tlino (olio ttlO ni'dllfl nnqltinn 11 u^vuicui) auu iiiuo tanv mv j/i w>v* j^x/wiViv?i to which your circumstances ana claims ii entitle you, and which a discerning public e will not fail to award to you. a Whatever the lords of creation may a have arrogated to themselves of prc-emi- si nence in intellect, or whatever may have p been, or may still be the defects in the ti systems of "education, or however ungc- a icrous and restricted may be the arrange- ti nents of society, it is nevertheless true, 01 :hat any deficiency of influence?any ap- w Dearance of mortifying inequality?any c :ustom apparently recognizing compara- aj ive mental imbecility, is after all to be ai ittributed rather to the crininal negligence >f the sex, than to any inherent or en- a< grafted defect in the framework of socio- fa / ty. No error has existed which a wise adjustment of means, and profitable use. of time might not have annihilated?no barrier over which the innate ehergies of your character may not enable yoa to pass?no influence is now allowed which may not be elevated and sanctified to high and holy ends. The public mind by Ik beral concessions is seeking to make atonement for the arrogant assumptions of tho past. The sphere of woman is-constantly enlarging as education fits her for loftier duties, and Christian philanthrophy multiplies her means of doing good. Indeed all that has ever been asked has been granted. What chivalry once surrender* ed in courtesy, conviction, purified by the action of Christianity, acknowledge* as a right Privileges once wrung fromr the reluctant hands of power, grown ob-' ,.' stinate and haughty with its supremacy^ will be cheerfully enlarged by the enlightened opinion,of all who have the influence to help, or the wisdom to discriminate. If eveiy successive year do not witness the augmentation of female in nuencc upon the best interests ot mankind?if tlie dawning glories of die day. that science and commerce and religionare rolling onward to the zenith, do not awake a most generous ambition--if the . stimulants to enterprise that are now stirring to electric motion the thoughts, longlaggard, do not stir the desire of coequlu progress?if all the elements of power lodged by the wisdom of Heaven m wo* man's hands aye not roused, combined, directed in accordance with the enlightened views of improvement that now prevail, then will the guilt of a most culpable; neglect lie at your door. /Lest you should make an accession to t * l a, \ me numDer already 100 large, woo evs-, porate thought in dreams, and bury energy in listless reverie, waste talents in idleness, relieved only by attendance on the calls of pleasure, or agitated by the Qtful excitement of ignoble rivalries, I would remind you that the popular notion of nT finished education dates from the beginning, and not from the goal In the technical sense of the word, it is net essential that you should be scholars. They am rare in every land. Your coursebas been, too brief, and your minds are too immature for you to have attained this high distinction. The knowledge of theactualwarkl must be -ncumulated by experience^ School-books have but little to do whh practical life, yet they are indispensable. They prepare the way-?teach us how txflearn?supply the materials for combitia tion; but much, much remains to be done. It is unfortunate that the idea ever obtain* ed in the world, that improvement was at an end, when the days of scholastic study were over and that pleasure, in the abused sense of the word, was the only legitimate expectation and exercise of the emancipated pupil. Past acquisitions contrasted with the possible attainments of the future, are as a trickling rill to the sweej* and volume of the Father of waten.? vv ltn proper decision or purpose ana concentration of force, the amount of know-' ledge that may be accumulated, not only without wearisome labor, but actual enjoyment, would stagger the credulity of those who live only lor amusement. But custom coverts the school girl of yesterday into the lady of to-day, and so cheats her with the illusion, thatane feels devotion to books, to be a forfeiture of rights, and i confession of stupidity. Many, conscious * }f intellectual poverty, and yet resolved to remain poor, assume the garb of wisiom and evince the pride of superiority' ,vhen they ought to feel the humiliation >f ignorance. Young ladies should read nore than they do, and with mom to*' erence to knowledge, and less to enter* ainment Taste is invited to a feast and granted the chief place of honor and at* ention, while judgment is left to glean a canty subsistence from the fragments of ormer acquisitions. The >, feelings are [purished, pampered upon fantastic $xo* 7 * ic viands, while the principles are sufferid to sleep, well nign useless either a9 HtidAN /\m n?ir?r\/N*?+0 V,*" (UIUCS VI ouppvi 1*3. History ought to be read with care? nth notes to awake attention?to cultiate the habit of writing?to improve the acuity of memory. One fact is worth a tiousand sentiments. " Philosophy teachlg by example" is far better than poetry mertaining by pictures. Human nature s it is?without disguise?in actual life, mid the elevations of prosperity, or the :rugg!es of misfortune, is a far more iraortant study than those ideal representaons that superinduce intellectual languor* nd teach one to dream of a peculiar des ny, ana 10 oaso me s must uuaiuus uupnt n casuualties, t!:at in their failure torture itli longings never to be appeased, and yen in tiieir occurrence blast by the disppoinunent of tlie licart's most luxurious iticipations. Read history?biography -the essayists; philosophy, and I would U oo ? iyiqit onnnrl lltVMI ? JUj suail^vlJ tto IV uio^ owuuu UJIVM ? shionable car, theological works. The