?
THE CAMDEN JOURNAL.
VOLUME 9 CAMDEN. SOUTH CAROLINA, JULY 4, 1848. NUMBER 27.~:
pcrltsiik:> kvehy Wednesday morning
RY T U () VI \ S \V. PEG V E ?.
TERMS.
Three D dlar* perannum in advance. Three Dollars and j
Filly" Cents within six months, or Four Dollars at the ex
piration of the year.
Advertisements inserted at 75 oents per square, (fourteen j
ines or. le.ss.) for the first and half that sum for each subsequent
insertion. The number of insertions to be noted on j
all a ivertisements. or they will be published until ordered
to be discontinued, and chanted accordingly.
Ono Dollar per square for a single insertion. Quarterly
an I Monthly advertisements will be charged the same as
single insertion, and Svini-montlily the same as new ones |
For publishing Citations as the law directs three dollars
will be cltarged.
VM Obituary Notices exceeding six linos, and Commnni- !
cations recommending Candidates for public offices of pro- !
? ? ?r.v!iihiiinn> will be chareed as ad ver- !
Ill VI hluth " |*u.....a
ti?eraonts.
Altl letters by moil ma t be po-?t *>ai<t to insure a punctua
attrition.
TO CLUBS.
In order to place the Journal within the reach of ;
all. we offer lite following reduced rates to Clubs j
of new subscribers?payment to be made at the
(intent subscribing.
For 4 copter for one year, 810 00
t ? jLcttpies Jc*?ooe year,-*- - 14 00
r for 3 copies for one year, 18 00
For 10 copies for one year, 21 00
For 12 copies for one year, 24 00
Any one of our present subscribers will he consideredas
o-ieof either of the above cluhs, bv obtaining
a sufficient number of new subscribers to
make up with himself, the 4, 0. 8, 10, or 12. j
MISCELLANEOUS.
Writtc i for the C'am len Journal.
THE STEPMOTHER.
ro:;cLUDTiD.
The English travellers wintered at Rome, i
ami Delainar and Count Sosia remembered i
that they had not remained at the "eternalcity" j
lmlf as long as they had intended, the conse- j
qnence was that they were there almost as soon j
*s the Furleighs, and long ludoro the winter
vas ov?w the hand ot the (ait Li 11 tas w;>s given
to the handsome widower, and Katrine, no
iltMib', unwilling to be outdone in generosity,
gavp hers at the same time, to his friend.
Thp dav had at lu^t arrived, ami with the ex- I
petition of* a few showers, was an auspicious j
on?. The "Halls" was in fine order, every one
was read'' to receive the master and the new
mistress, the^ servants in their host attire, the
housekeeper had held her arms akimbo, and her j
head on one side, (in token of defiance to the '
new mistress.) so long that she mentally acknowledged
that she would pay tor it by a stiff i
neck, so put them down intending to resume
her attitude on the first approach of the cu'viagp.
Susan had curled her nose and mouth,
(practicing for the new tnistiess's chamber
maid, until her good looking fice had quite a
(disagreeable expression, the other servants la-I
king their tni.it from the ieahers, nil looked as !
if they had been particularly ill-treated.
.Mrs. Selby an I Dora were in the parlor,
which opened on the lawn, the former calmly
finishing some work, the latter, with sparkling j
eyes, and checks very pa'e firm excitement,!
starting to the window at slightest noise. ,.\t
Jn?t the carriage drove up the avenue, 'lie dor r
opened and her Father j> mped r ot exetaiming
gaily,?"Wei! here we ate at 'a-t Libia*. 1 am
tint quiz7.ing voii norr."
Dora was standing by 'lie window, hut the
moment site hear l her father's voice, with one
b? und she hail leapt over the tow barricade and
the next instant was in bis arms.
Afterwards he turned to introduce her to his
wife, and Dora thought, 'it she is only as good
as she is beaiitilu! i should be happy,' but her
misgivings wpre as strong as ever. Mrs. Selby i
... . . , j
was much p'ense'l wish her new sisier; ljiiiihs s j
manners were so frank, and heart so kind, that !
she won her war direct!v 'he heart. At the
first sound of her cheeiful laugh, one of din)'*
Sybil's arms dropped, nnd when she came and
spoke so kindly to her, she extended hotli hands
end pressed the fair little hand of "the new
mistress," and then her remorse bursting forth,
she exclaimed, "I hope yon mar always be as .
hnppv as 1 am miserable tbis minute," and ivi:h ;
something between a scd> and a howl, she made
her way quickly to her room.
Liilias looked surprised.
The poor woman is quite overcome by her
feeling, said Mrs. Selby.
Susan was not so easily gained over, she had j
raught sight ot the smart little French woman
of her dreams, and her no?e curled lighter
when she henubher say to Lillian,?,4Je suis
sure rnadame. que vous serez malarle, si vous tie !
vous atez ces habits humiile, ne souvenez vous
qu'il y avit pluie?" Mr. ])e|amar was of the
same opinion, and Lillias was hi rried away
protesting that damp clothes never injured her.
SSusan made up her mind to burn all French
books that hereafter fell in her hands. For
some lim? after her arrival, visitors were eon
sinntly at the 'hall,' so that Lillias and itora
were never together. .Mrs. Selby alter the first
week, returned to take possession of her own
cottage, and Dora obtained permission 10 stay
n *hort time with her.
On her return home, Susan hastened up to
her chamber, tinder pretence of putting things j
in order. Site hovered about until Dora en-j
quired if she had an) thing to say.
Only said Susan, much relieved by the enqni. |
rv, 'thatseon there will be no room in the house
for you, as they have taken your pretty little j
sitting room fir what the French woman calls
a 'Hondower' for rnadame (Susan did not say
'fhat f,il!ia< had told Carlton to enquire bof>re i
altering anthing, if it was appropriated to any '
plies use.)
fn this way things quito innocently, and
thoughtlessly done, when repeated, seemed to
be an intentional wrong inflicted. Dora's was
not the spirit to submit, and Lillias when they
met, quiit? unconscious of having offended, was
kind and affectionate whilst Dora became more
prond and chilling, having fully settled it, that
her stepmother was a second edition of Mrs
Arden.
One morning upon her return from a walk,
Sman hronobt her little ffrevhound. with its
_ " ? r. ^
C)ct dmlful v b irnt, and and moaning so pitously
Ibat it drew tears from the eyes of its mistress,
who, while undoing the bandages that it
was wrapt in, asked Susan to explain how it
got so.
'Miss Dora, yon mint a-k that French Carl- j
ton, she pretends to say that the dog did it him- '
self, but it is my firm opinion that she put the ^
hot iron on it# tee! to prevent its going in the j
'bandoirer,1 becauso rnadamo always screams
when the poor little animal tries to jump on her j
lap.
Dora's eyes Hashed, and she seemed making
up her mind to some decided action.
The next morning while her father was in J
bit library reading his papers, ho was surprised
MI,, . i ri, Ty 1 iii-M rjaraaBBWEBi i i BPOIJ?a msmmM*ss=^
by seeing Dora enler with as firm a <Jr torminami
her features, as her beautiful face of fourteen
years standing could express. lie diew her
affectionately towards him, and after kissing
her, asked playfully, to what unusual circumstance
he was indebted lor the honor of her visit.
I have a favor to ask you Papa and you must
promise to grant it, said Dora, blushing deeply.
Well, anything my dearest child in reason,
but what is it?
I-"t me give tip my master's papa.
You are not old enough, Dora, and although
far advanced, still I would not wish you to give
tip your studies so voting.
Hut I will go to Madame Torella's school and
dear Papa I will study very hard. Oh, 1 must
go, she exclaimed vehemently.
Your heart seems quite bent upon it, I will
think of it.
Oh, Pnp>, say that you will take me when
the school opens in a few weeks. Thanks,
thanks, I see that you have consented, and kissing
her father she ran from the room.
W lien Lillias heard of Dora's intention, she
expressed surprise and disappointment, hut Do- j
ra seeing her with prejudiced eyes, marked it
down as deceit, and was more eager to he off. |
Madaine Toreila was delighted with her pit- j
pi I, and her generosity and kindness, soon made ;
her a great favorite among the girls. Her ;
great friend, however, was one Ju'ia Arnold, j
who was soon devoted to our heroine. At the
first evening assembly, at which all the friends '
of the scholars attended, she whiskered, "May
1 introduce my brother, Dora, he is very anxious
to become acquainted," and turning, she introduced
a tall young man, with a chiselled set of I
features, who immediately seated himself by |
her and engaged her in conversation, if such
could he called conversation; for with all his
magnifficent eyes, and chiselled features, Dora
with her wit, soon found she cou'd easily fathom
the dep'h of .Midshipman Arnold's understanding.
Still, she was hound to think favorably of
him, for besides being a great favorito with all
the young ladies, was he not the brother of her
' ^ c'i? !ixi iiriofn f/?rmc
near tnenut ruie was m?oh <m mi
for after meeting him several times, she found,
if lie was not intelligent lie was so good Matured
and spoke so highly of her Hither, (he had
seen him, hut never spoken to him,) that he
got quite in Dora's good graces.
Time passed?Dora's improvement both in
her studies nn<1 appearance had been great,?
more than a year had passed since she left home; (
her Hither had visited her frequently, and her !
stepmother onee or twice, but she did not think ;
the last any favor. In the vacation sho had
pleaded to remain at school, only once going ;
home with Julia Arnold, and now there was
onlv one week before another varalion, and
the idea of spending it with her stepmother was
a peiH'ct incnlms to her imagination; the more
she dwell upon the idea, i's terror? increased? j
she was miserable. Before lier lay a letter
from the Midshipman, filled with protestations ;
of iiniittetable gratitude and love, if she would j
give a favorable reply, anil eternal despair, hin- j
ting remotely at suicide, if she was hard hear. ;
ted; he knew she, so h'gh spirited could ri"t brt
happy under a stepmother's tvranical dominion,
whereas her will would be ever his law, if she j
would onlvsav ve=; a carriage would be the 1
ne\t evening at daik at the private entrance to |
bear her away; he would wait impatiently Ibr
a reply to be thrown from the window. Header.
remember, our heroine was only fifteen,
impn'sive and high spirited, dreading a return to
IJ r home, lu*v j<U*s she hart Hoard .-\iiom s praises
suite l?y 1 lie dozen boarders separately, ami
in eoncett for a twelve month; sin? hesitated, '
ihon wrote oti a piece of paper, "I will lie ready
!?v dark at llio private entrance." Dora
fastened it round a stone and rlrnpped it l?y a
string from the window. She pleaded sickness
as an excuse for keepinjj her room the next 1
day, and not appearing at Initio; it was only I
true as she had a hij?li fever, with a violent
headache and really looked ill.
It was rpdte dark as a smoking pair of horses i
stopped at the private entrennee, she was im- !
mediatelv assisted in the carriage, the gentle, j
man jumped on the box, and the horses gallop
ped o|f.
Dora began for the first time to reflect, and
was mere than half inclined to call to \<!onis
to take her back to school, but she was ill, sinpified,
and the motion of the eariiage made her
very drowsy. She did no1, know how long she
had been riding, when the horses stopped, the
doo- wis opened, anil her Father offered Ids i
hand to assist her, saying at the same time in a
kind, reproachful tone, k,Ilere, Dora, I have
brought von home." With a scream of terror :
and pain, Dora sank hack in a swoon.
Iler father's appearance at the critical momerit
was occasioned by the mis.carriage of her
note, which instead of reaching its destination,
was seized at the second story win ;ow by
\ilrert Torella, a mischievous littic urchin, who
immediately earr ed it to his mother as a trophy,
attd explained the manner of his getting it; she
immediately understood it referred to a runaway
match, (her perfect bugbear,) sent it post hade
to Mr. Delnrnar, who arrived about fivo or ten
minutes before 'Adonis,'and fearing opposition
front Dora, did not let her know hiin until his
arrival at home.
For many days she laid in her little room, her
sou! hovering between life and death: the ex.
citement had caused brain fever, and in lierde.
liriurn she raved of her stepmother, her dislike
and all that had caused her unhappincss: and
pa'tred was gentle stepmother bv all she heard,
but it did not cause her to falter in her devotion
to the unconscious sufferer; she prayed fervently
to (rod to spare her, and night and day, she
hovered around her bed. Finally the physicians
give hopes, that the crisis of her disease
I?n-1, sho would with the titmo-i care recover.
Ullia* scarcely drew lireath during the event,
fill night, so f'aiful- was she of disMtthiug the
sufferer. At tlawn she stole to the bedside, and
stooped to gaze, lint started affrighted with sits,
ponded breath, for she thought life had fled, so
Cold and pain was the being before her; but
"Thank God," btyst Iroin her heart, when Do.
r.t's blue eyes opened wide, and she asked in a
low plaintive tone, "Where am I." "Yon are
at home, dearest child; but do not speak."
"Where is papa."
I In is waiting anxiously in the next room, to
hear how you are, remain quiet, and she tripped
noiselessly from the room.
Dora wondered who her nurse was, she re.
memhered the face as it had bent over her rind
soothed her in tier pain and it seemed familiar,
but whero she had known it she eould not tell.
Surely it was a very sweet one, and now Dora
missed it very much whenever it moved from
her side. Day by day she Wnmo more at.
taclicd to her nurse, hut could pot no satisfactory
answer as to who she was, I am your
friend and nurse, and when you are entirely
ly well, you shall have the pleasure of an intraduction,
said she smilingly, that is if you will
promise never to have a relapse.
I believe you arc an angel, said Dora enthusiastically.
Many days after as Dora heard a strange
' footstep outside the door, she gave a startled
glance, and her lionutiful nurse immedia'ely
jjuessing her thoughts said, 4,I)o not fear dear
Dora, you shall not see hrr, except when \ou
wish to; do von know that duiing your sickness
you made me your confidant."
Her lather paid frequent visits and spoke in
the kindest manner to her, and appeared so
grateful to the nurse for the care she bestowed
on her.
At last the day was fixed for her to leave her
sick chamber ami appear among the family.
1 hero wire ft rancors added to the u^uat inmate*?Caroline
Furlcigh, (a Voting sLter.)
I Horace, a Lieutenant in tlie. rout I Navy, an'l
Tom. a wild mad cap. They had only arrived
a short time before to spend some time with
their sister.
When the hour approached, she became nitrvons
at the idea of going down, and made her
beloved nurse promise to come up for her: she
looked very thin but still most lieautifu': excitement
had added bistre to her eyes, and a faint
tinge of color to her cheek. Her lather, how
ever, came for her, saying that her little nurse
was so busy that she had deputised h-irn. lie
whispered that she must look to the right as
she entered, and speak kindly to her stepmother,
for she had been very anxious about Iter. By
this time they had reached the door,and Dora's
eyes mechanically followed the direction that
her father mentioned, and there without the
nurses'cap, but with her hair in natural linglets,
stood her bchvr.d stepmother. Dora could
scarcely believe her happiness real. Lillias
hastened to her, and after warmly embracing
her, enquired archly it she thought an introduction
necessary, livery one vied in attention
to the invalid, but the gallant Lieutenant seem
ed t.i think that it was duly to take the care ofF
of everyone's hands, and as is rarely the ease,
duty and pleasure were combined. Dora fervently
congratulated herself on her lucky escape,
as she had never cared f>r the 'Adonis.'
fie shut himself up for a short time, (while his
mustache was growing.) railed at his unlucky
fate, and finally, as the vessel to which lie be.
!o:i"pil was ordered off lie did not annear again
{or so in" lime. Dora look sueh an unaccountable
fancy lo lillle Albert Torella, thai she sent
him as many playthings as it would take him
m >ntlis to pull to pieces. In the spring, the
whole family from the 'hall," (including Mr.
ami Mrs. IMatnar,) wore to leave for Europe,
hut lielhift Iheir departure the old 'hall' wa? illuminated,
and guests arrived in crowd--. Aunt
S. lhy was calmly happy, ? rhe housekeeper in
her best'bib and tit :ker;' Smart joyous atid
talking merily to 'the French woman Carlton,'
an I even the little burnt grehound. (now entirely
teeovered.) skipped about, for it was Dora's
we Ming that had caused lb" rejoicing, and the
handsome anil intelligent Horace Furleigh car
rird of!" the prize.
Reader, this has served ta divert me fir a
few hours, if it amo-es you at all 1 shall consider
myself repaj I.
June 13.'*, 131^. R.
From the Tcmpcancc Herald.
COMING Ol'T OF THE LITTLE OF THE
HORN.
His w ife, ono day, Bill Fndgo addressed,
Wliilo :it I tic brcakfist table,
' I this.!;, my dear,'tis tor the best,
As seeing we arc able,
To keep a shop just over here,?
Wake up, good wife, arid hear it,
And sell good cid<-r wine and beer,
And < very kind of spirit.
"Ami now, dear soul, [ ?]< hclirvo
You will not slmw neistui.ce,
But '?!?? a trusty help mate givo
Your very lust assistance.
At illustration ami d?sign
I kr.ovv yon'io good at making
I*i.1 y wlnil most prop r for n sign.
Fur this 'ere undertaking? '
"Well I nshiml dear, in mutters groat,
You know I don't resist you.
And in the thing you've pleased to state,
I'm willing to assist yon.
I'd paint a horn, my loving sir?
It is the hcsl, depend on't ?
With William Fudge, the Tavcrticr,
Half out tlie little end on't."
j A Heroic SaIM?h.?Tito New London
Conn , Chronicle mentions with eoininendaj
tion, die heroic deeds nfa common sailor,
on hoard tlit: s:np Rohf. Rout no, rccenlly
| arrived at that port.
As the slrp was on her passage from tlie !
Sandwich Islands to the Noith West ConM,
slie encountered a severe gale of wind, while
laying to imdcrclose reefed main topsail, one
of the foremost hands, named Ilcnrv ('. j
! Smith, of Norwich fell overboard, The
sea was so rough thai it seomud^enlirelv
out of the question to lower a boat., It could
, not be done without plmutig^jH'* imminent
peri I any boat's new that might be ordered
on so hopeless a service. Of course the
word went instantly through the ship that
there was a "man overboard," when a Portuguese
sailor from the Cape do Verds,
I named, Peter Antnine, who was then bo!
low, sprung upon deck, and in an instant
threw himsrlffr mi the ship'sside and hrea-ti
ed his wav through the billows towards iho
' s nkmg sailor. I' seemed impossible that
that the gallant fellow could sustain himself
I for nnv length of time, much less that he
could roach and render any assistance to Ins
drowningshipmale. lie did, however, by
an effort that seemed almost superhuman,
succeed in very nearly reaching the spot
where Smith had till that tunc managed to
keep his head above water, when just at
| tlial motnenl the p ior fellow sunk to r.sn no
more, and Anloine to all appearance was
: doomed to follow his fate. Seeing his siluI
at Kin a determined clfort was made from
; (In* sliip to save hi n. A boat was got over,
and a line IVorn it being kept on shi|>, Anto
i inc was at last reached and finally got safoi
ly on hoard.
! This same capital fellow performed a like
! feat, and with better snceoss, on a snbso1
qnent part of the voyage. Reing with a
boat's crew in tlie surf at Maui, the boat
caps-zed. and one of the crew by the name
of John Noonan, was washed off. and being
unable to swiiri was upon the point of drowning,
wlien Antoine pitched into the breahers
and bore him alive to the shore. Nor
does the record of the bravo man's efforts
in the cause of humanitv ch'se here, though
the either instance of his gallant conduct occurred
some time before.
On a previous voyage, some three or four
years ago. in the ship Romohis, of Mystic,
a sailor fell overboard, and Antoine promptly
plunged into the sea, swam for bis shipmate
ami saved him!
Now That we have acquired sum 800,000
square miles of territory bv I he irentv
.. iii, t. ' ... i-.......
.Ml A u?, II IllilV II* 'I i?i; *1111 I l'?
wliai arc some of its natural treasures. Sonot
a, pr d ices gold, silver, pearls; New
(Mexico and Srji ta Pe, gold, silve*. nnd Iron;
aiifi Upper California, corn, wine and pearls.
Q" ieksilver is also found in abundance in
upper California. We have seen a specimen
of quicksilver ore taken from the mine
of Santa CLra. near the Pitehlade San Jose
de Guadalupe, only six miles from steamboat
communication on San Francisco liny.?
The ore is exceedingly pure and rich and is
extensively used in the silver mines ol Western
Mexico.
The Santa Clara mine is owned hv a com
pany in Tepie Mexico, and two other veins
have been opened by Americans near Sari
Francisco, and from appearances, the supply
of California quicksilver, w hen developed
l?v Yankee enterprise, will be inexhaustable.
Considering the acquisition of the balance ol
M exico, sooner or later as our inevitable
destinv, the value of these quick silver mines
cannot be too highly estimated. Yankee
enterprise too, will soon ttehttry the gold, silver
and iron ores that lie hidden in the moun
tains of Sonorn, New Mexico, and Santa
Fe. Before a generation passes, the iron
ore w II be tolled into bars and iaid on railtracks,
and moulded into locomotives that
will go thundering over that vast expanse of
entinlry. frightening the wild beasts from
the.r haunts, and bearing the liuits of American
enterprise from ocean to ocean.
Tlu? I'tno arntvc li? v?i ? nf !\r in f'nltfiiPnirt
and a few years hence will see our vineyards
there, rivalling those of Burgundy and the
Rhino. California also produces all the staple
grains, and for horses and cattle raising
s unrivalled. It lias an unlimited supply nl
choice timber, a luxury denied to many portions
of Mexico. | lie pearl fisheries on the
coast, once a rich source of revenue to die
Spaniards, though long since abandoned by
thai indolent i eop'o, will be speedily revived
bv our adventurous dives, who plunges
alike into earth and ocean where there are
treasures to he drawn up.
The climate of the country is fine and
will of course be stiii improved by the clearing
up of the wilderness. I his new territory
will not be left long in its present state.
The slow moving Castiliane will soon learn
from our enterprise, as emigration swarms
westward, that I hey have been sleeping for
the last century. \Ve have got the territory
and as it is wort It looking to, let us be up
and at it.?N. V. Wirkhj Sun.
MILLAR I) FILM ORB.
As someofour readers, who may honestly
have desired Jo support Gen. Tavlor as an
independent Candidate, may wish (since his
nomination bv the whig parly fori lie Presidency.)
to know the man with whom he is
yoked in ihe Presidential race, we copy from
die Savannah Georgian the following brief
I>wt expressive account of Millard Filmore,
I lie whig lor tin; Vice Presidency.
j\ S, Bitnner.
Millard Filmore, of Xow York?a man
who has voted in ('uncross with the Siades.
(Jiddinjjses. (Jans. and thai black spoiled
crew of hostile slabbers nl ?>tii domestic qui
et.?Hie man, who, in the summer of J811,
when all tin; true Southern men were arrayed
in lavor o| Polk and Texas, addressed a
mass meeting oft .n Wliius of the Empire
Slate, (1000 of all sexes and ajjes beini;
present.) from a lioolh. and almost iuimediatelv
under a haulier of the 'Decency Party,'
on which banner were printed (Jen. Ja? ksoii
and James A. Poik, the latter mounted
bv a iif^ro, who bore a smail banner, on
vvbien was inscribed 'Texas.'
In his address, Mr. Filmnre exhibited the
slronoesl aeritnonious hostility against the
South, and converted a "feat national question
ft lie tariff) into a mere sectional one?
* \ - '
denied lli.'it the Southern people enidd ever
become a manufacturing peopl?, without
periling 1 licit* power to retain their slaves.
Ilarl this speech been listened to by the
Wlv.es of Georgia, many of them would
have voted for l'olk and Dallas, instead of
hushing defeat to their bosoms in the persons
oiTtnv and Frclinghiiysen.
I\ they can hug .Millard Flmorc to their
bosoms after the exposure, we intend to bestow
on him, they are not the men we take
thein lor.'
Make your 1>ki?s, Volwo Ladies.?
When yon leave school lake rare of your
chamber. It is a g"0 I plan to strip the
chillies oll'vour hod as soon as von rise from
it: by doing it then your cap protects your
hair from lint and feathers, and luting lig'ttIv
elothed, your movements are perfectly
free, and the glow occasioned bv exercise
makes von on a cold morning leel less dread
of old water. You can linisli making vour
bed and clu<t vonr furniture after you are
drosseu, and ncmre oroaKiasi n mm: is ihiu%
but, it not return and d ? it ns soon as possiIill*
after that meal is over.
A C. It AM MARIAN'S LOVE-LETTER.
M.\i>\mi:?Atnutii! lite numerous prep isit
ions towards a matrimonial c.onnejlinii
with your beloved person, I hope you will
not decline the interjection of my preliminary
pretences. I should not like to be a mere
noun adjective to you in all cases, lot I positively
declare that, comparatively speaking,
I should be superlatively happy to agree.
with you in the subjunctive mood. I hope
you will n?>i npionatc me singular, for des
ring to have the plural in my fam Iv, for
it is the ablative of" my soul to become relative
to an antecedent to a regular conjugation,
as this alone can constitute a lawful
concord with the feminine gender, and affords
lis a particular copulative, you will use
no indicative solicitations in the imperative
mood, for I am the potential; while you are
in the future,?it her passive < r gen the, shall
become a dative translation to you?nothing
accusative against your government, and
your sweet n> minnl self w.tbout a noun or
pronoun, shall l>e a vocative until death, the |
great ablative of all living, by a gradual de- j
chnation of our coportal nature, puts n
small determination to the present tense,
and lime, through an infinite progression ol
ages, will render us prcterperlecl in the future.
Yours, &r.
Notus Nullus.
i
WHAT IS THE BEST MANUBE FOR
SANDY LAND.
rxr:.i . j . . ,1...
? iilimn preici u og 10 say wmi: i* Highest
many re for sandy land,' wo will content
niirself with observing that if we had our
cho'c.e liciween 20 double horse-cart loach
of stable manure, and It) loads of Virgin
clav and 10 loads of stable manure which
had been well mixed t get her, we should
prefer the latter compost. The clav portion
beside acting as an amender of the; texture!
of the sod, thereby partially imparting to it
the: capacity to hold manure and retain moisture,
two most desirable qualities, womcl in
all probability, add to it no inconsiderable
portion o(potash, a substance proved to
form one of the constituents of most clav.
an I whose agoncv iri the formation of the I
silicate of potash, is essential in all soils, as!
the outer crust of alt grasse.^and grains can-1
not be constituted well without it. The j
Hint-like substance apparent upon the face
of the corn stalk, and on the straw of the ;
small grains, is thus constituted. Without,
therefore, potash be present in the soil, to
diso've sil ca, combine with it, and firm the
essential compound named above, it would
be fallacious in expect the grains enumora
ted above to -tand creel and perf irm their
respective offices of bearing fruit. So far
as :ho formation of this sdicale of not ash
" - J I #
iiny ho concerned, and application o! unbleached
ashes would answer. as the potash
contained therein \v< uld very efficiently
operate to produce the same des'rnble effect;
hut as lidl supplies of ashes can only he
obtained in the inuncdiHtc iieighboihood of
largo cities, the substitution of virgin ciav
fir t hem may well become a matter of crave
conclusion.
We do not pretend to affirm, that ten loads
of sncii clay as we have mentioned, would
he an ample d >so1 to briny; about a permanent
amendment of an acre of drv soil; neither
do we olfiirm that such a quantity
would yield a sufficiency of potash, because |
we do not subscribe to either one or the oth-1
er of these opinions, and only desire to urge j
our preference for it as an alternative choice, j
To give the proper consistence and tenacity j
to sandy s iil, would rrqm? * many repetitious I
of the dose of clay which we have prescri-1
lied, which quantity has been named by us \
from the desire we feel not to impose a too ;
microns labor upon our agricultural brethren i
at any one time, preferring that their wmks 1
of melioration shoidd lie performed by gradual
slaves, and thus relieved the objection of
too much lalior, which issooltcn urged with :
I
the ?bow of plausibility.
Tho<e who maiiure as they ought, usually
apply 20 loads of stable or barnyard manure
to the acre, ami surely if ihey can substitute \
! 10 of ciav, lor so many r?l manure with
j equal, if not more, benefit to their land and !
we have no douht of the fact, self interest,
that great momentum in all human actions,'
would indicate that ihev should do so. Tint
tliey would experience benefit in the first (
cro|?, we do not entertain the slightest doubt ;
and as little, that the decree ofbenefit wnuid j
induce them to repeal the dose of clay each
succeeding year, until their sandy soil had ;
been converted into a sandy loam, and had
imparted to it the mechanical capacity of;
holding manure, retaining moisture, and of j
performing everv function belonging to a :
crli|e soil and we need not add that once J
placed in that condition, it would he an easy !
natter to continue it by a judicious rotation ;
ol'crops and the u^c of mineral manures, as j
lime and plaster and their adjunct clover.
Indeed, if it were nor 1 lint we do not wish to
alarm our friend, by asking too much of him
we would say, that he should spread, annually,
over his field of sandy land, while it
may be undergoing the process ofbeingmanured
and clayed, at least 20 bushels of lime, |
until be shall have reached our maximum |
quantity" f 1000 bushels to the acre; the lime
of course, to bn spread on the surface after
the clav and manure compost had been
ploughed in. Where a sandy surface soil,
may rest upon a hard pan or clay suhso I,
the labor of hauling may be saved, hv
ploughing deep and then cross plough so as
to mix the two different soils together. This
done let the field be thoroughly harrowed
and cross harrowed, then put on the manure
nlough it i i and harrow; then spread on i
f o o 25 to 3D bushels o| lune. We are i
e tgnizant of a field of exhausted sandy land j
which has been restored to fertility in this;
way, without ihc least injury resulting from I
turning up the so much dreaded subsoil, j
The operation was performed in the fall, the
field was planted in corn the succeeding
spring, vie I led well, was seeded in wheat
ihe ensuing autumn, gave a fair product,had
cI ver seeded on the wheat, which produced j
- ? ' "I"?fiM iml In- in/lirii.iis man- I
1 ?? ?l I \ I I I | * W| - , ...... ... | ... ...
ngemoni since. i iks fertility of the soil lias
bjen continued.
THE FEELING IN IRELAND.
Ireland is evidently 011 the eavc of a great
crisis. Since tlic memorable trial nfO'Coiinell,
which threatened tragedy, but ended
in farce, 110 puhl c event has created so deep
and dangerous nn impression as the arrest,
convict'i?:i, and banishment of John Mitchell.
j
% A feeling of burning indignation breathes
lit rough the press, anil will not be satisfied
by that example of the British Governments
fixed intention sternly to suppress all such
utterances of sentiment. In the very face
of that conviction, and on the dav soceeeding
the departure of Mitchell for his destined
planj of exile f>r fourteen years The United
Irishman newspaper, in a lirey leading
article repeats the very offence for whi?h
Mitchell was transported. A few extrjKf*
will give "a sample of the taste and qualify"
or the whole:
"The Tune. It is a poetic rainbow-hued,
golden age. Our only king is ihe sword.
At the flash of the patriot steel the torch of
freedom can alone he lit.
'This is not the time for beggar's petitions*
No more prayers; no more w hining; no more
d\ing in the ditch-side; no more patiei t aod
pcrscrvering cannibalism; no more soupkitchen
paternity; no m<>re?nf flif.grim farce ^ ^
in which two millions of men, with red blood
in them, and something resembling a soul,
bv the grace of the devil and the advice of
their pastors, bid farewell to the sun, and
an I committed suicide.
The people of this land have been dreaming
an uneasy cream. The nightmare vanishes
at last, and the blood stream .circulates
in the country once more. , They can stir
their arms and use their strength again. A
vo ce was heard, crying in this wilderness,
and it has aroused them to sense and yojilon.
A glorious fiat lux was re-echoedf
from one end of the Isle to the other, and the
clouds rolled off from our horizon and the
blue sky looked forth on us, and biessed us.
A revelation came unto the people, and they .
fell thai they had only to say, "we shall do
such a thing,' and it was done?they felt, at
last, the everlasting truth flashing in On their
benighted souls, that a people's will, and omnipotence,-as
far as regards earth-ore sy*
I i?/l IIIIH JII9.
Let them come forth, then, in the sunlight.
and take the rights which have heen
withheld from them so long-ves! take'lhem.
for they have only tost retell forth their hands
and they will soon grasp the treasure which
they desire. Paris willed that it should be
free, and Louis Philippe packed up his ihmg*
put his umbrella under his arm, and, renewing
his youth?eagle like; went forth a travelling.
Sicily willed that the Union act-'
which sucked out its life-blood,should be repealed,
and the first sword which glistened
in the patriot's hand, cut the parchment link
that hound it to a foreign country; Milan?
hut why multiply instances! Is it not plain
as that God livoth, that we have bottoask
and we shall receive, if we ask in the commanding
tone of freemen, not in the whining
accent of s aves?
Come forward, then, ye suffering poorr
and prove to your oppressors, that you toil
in the heat of summer, and the frost of win*
tcr. coaxing nut of the heart of earth thosehidden
riches which minister to your tyrants"
luxury; from the filthy lanes where you cow
cr in rags, and wet, and misery, hiding your
shame from I he eyes of your fellow-men* dud
gnawing (you have done it!) through the
flesh:of your own children, to far. the flickering
flame of life within you; from the underground
cellars, where some of you, endowed
mayhap, with high aspira ions and ?.
sunny genius, grovel worm like, in cold and
mistiness, cursing the rule which has crushed
you down to dust, and extinguished the
heavenly light within von; from the haunts of
crime, where, with breakinglhearts, vou sell
the beauty which is intended to adorn the
homes of virtue, that the hungry fiend which
is preying fwyour entrails, may be sajjsfied
come forth, come forth ve poor. You wear
the garb of humanity: you have the appearance
of men. Let the garb have something
within it; let the appearance clothe a realilv.
You were made to God's likeness. Premiers
and aristocrats may denv it. but the
Man-God who died for you has said so.
Blood circulates in your veins, loo. Yhu
have rights to demand and wrongs to avenge.
You have as rich a fluid in your hearts as
the tyrants who tramp on you. Ypu arc
like tliem in physical formation. If they
prick y?.ii, do you not bleed! If they poison
von rln vou not die? You are stronger
than they are. They are few and you am
many. Up. then, grapple wilh them and
try a fall or two. It is only when you have
your hands around their waists that yon
can truly estimate their strength or weakness.''
STRUCK BY LIGHTNING.
We are informed that, on the morning of
21st inst., a negro man, the property of Mr.
Win. Sanders of this District, while leaving
one of his master's fields, was struck by
lightning in the hack of the neck and killed
immediately. His body appeared to be terribly
burnt. A negro woman, distant a few
feet at the time of the accident, was stunned
and knocked down by the same stroke; and
some negro childre l, at no great distance,
were stunned at the same time. The woman
did not recover for some hours. Our
informant mentioned that the lightning had
boon known to strike in the same spot which
it then struck severaltimesduring the past few
V^ai'S, which gives tiso to the supposition
that there!? nt-lhal place probably a bed of
iron on*, a sufficient cause Thf-tho attraction,
of lightning.?Sumter Banner. ^
At a Loss foi Society.?''Would you
believe it aunt." exclaimed a pnlc-faccd
young lady of the "upper ten," "would von
believe it? Uncle Solomon, here, tells nm
that the ladies out West actually speak to
the trades-men anil retail store-keepers!
Thcv must sadly be in want of society,
misn't they?" r"Humph!yes,"
interposed uncle Solomon:
"they are as'hadlv off for society, my dear,
as your lather when he pulled radishes and
O.r n livioff. and vour mother sold
lliem in ihe old Fly Market! ha! ha! society
humph!"
Mi?s Polly Dolly Adeline fainted, and her
aunt was visible in the next room.