University of South Carolina Libraries
.. 1k 1'^! {"!;cr i Yr }f(Qy 4 A nsr!^ _c :^. A: r LKlm , 7 ^:; ti..ar 1 Jill .'S :" "ti, , TNain}J['jr r. ^.A(h .y .y '- k r,..,:+lx ,. r -t , _L ;. 1, YY :.1, ,, f 1 } l uA ,, t - .ht+'x+r h' 'N ' 'f. AtiS". 1,; '; :e. :rar"ir': r1. ,a. .,i.' ,/A tif H" ?"rt . . tJ Ja,'y phi { ,l n 1 $rtP 1. r1 , 11 i"i. ,Iti, t I .rr' t " i'Ot' .(!. rY " f l r I 1;'(/' viii.'' rl. :l' 'rSl'!'.i+ . f 7 , , j;" r .,+ ..t R v y P ,t r. LQA'"f it s c /. f * th " t 5'}1, : ' , ,Z+fS . ti 3 4 t F l 5'' :1 .ti /. , l ) ., ly S!" .{;1 , f' r, a' ', r . Y ,U" ! "t' i ",T! '!S tr'" f; .'jyl f"{1'f ' :f I .ll' tnl1Y , I{ ' y1j r' 7 r! (,' f ^ .iri IL ,.1 r iY _y r / ' !l' " . " ' i r 4 ,r , {i ihf."r1 .lid 4" Yt. ""f' t f ..,.1.. t .y ':.( . r L, Yl} "+ Z " ;.ie r, "''=^iR.il; 1.. .f R1. ,. K !' rr ' , -R. nt'llS + 2:;1 t , J;4yj ..I t \;"r" f " -1 11 iiSl .~.Yjt(K(?>( Il . lk .lyt " 4'Ir %1 a i;l 1 ,'1 't 1,:" t,. -. ,p.'. y' : j q. 'll .. l/ . Rlr '11'Y eta. I t/::, l . J+ dj?Z . "l.S .f ;1{ n . " v .t". ( , lt.. .4,y.: 1,Y .. i,( ""yJ . t., .{.i+ t,4lit!i t_ 31 ,w i14Ri F fr ;'1 It If rc ' , /' t t "c r , '". ,' }r ? 'f. ' a" ' , ,, ltJrn' ',li: } K lV LC yy tj r I f '1 , r r 1 l ,l h 1 "1 , r Z ., 'r , 1 t.r 1 4 X .1 t 41 r; 51, ;.; * ^l . SR M>tKi i. tM,}. ,i 14 " , .? /S .. .r" ,, (1. '+ 1. ^. II .',71 r I ,,r i } , a. ::! Irii' r jl t 1; r 1'. : 4 ,t r J1 .' I r t .. - r' ',f r" r ..r " ;1 1 ! ;'r', fie' , ( , r" !, " 'i'1 i it r i i.' ., ,. ,11,1,E r i ,. r!. 1 , I r. .1. r ' .'",, tG o 2L"=:-^-s..._ ._ ice .^: .-. . . ?Y'^ - s , . ' Imo, i".. I. .h'. 'lid; itr 1' , . ( SOUTIJWTGllTs, " DEVOTED SS JAN S. G. RICHARDSON; Editor. 4 a R. wn. J. FRANCIS, 490'a-ntr Our tfut ",.;'y0L. IN " SUMT,1 ,RVILLE,'.8. C. JUNE 5, 1850. f!do-Dollars in advance, Two Dollars and F'ifty-cents at the expiration of six months, or Three Dollars at the end of the year. No paper discontinued until all arreara. ges are paid, unless at the option of the Proprietor. O:1Advertisements inserted at 75 eta. pier square, (14 lines or less,) for the first and half that sum for each subsequent insertion. . IEPThe number of insertions to be mark edon ill Advertisements or they will be published until ordered to be discontinued, and charged accordingly. Iauprovennent of Worn Out. ihands by tile use of Peas anad Olover. ay i. K. DURWYNN, ESQ., OF JACKSON, NORThAMPTON COUNTY, N. C. Having heard, from various reliable sources, of the great success of Mr. Burgwynn in renovating worn-out lands in North Carolina, we were particular. ly anxious to obtain, from his own pen, an account of his practice in this im portant matter, for the Agricultural part of the6Patent. Office Report. At our request, Mir. B. sent the following able and Instructive essay, which we take the liberty to publish in the Cultivator simultaneously with its going through th& press at Washington.-Southern Gottivator.1: There are large bodies of land lying ;n Eastern and Middle Virginia and North Carolina, which have been so much reduced by continued cropping, lanting tobacco, cotton, and sowing oats as no longer to pay the cost of cultivation, and are "turned out as wasta ds." These really still pos. Xesa aigood shore of fertility, and, by a ry -ioderate expenditure of labor, and atagsion to common setei principles of iculturo, may be reclaimed and: havf their pro inctiveness increased from 100 to el i: cent. They can be made truly valujble; and I do not hesitate to say, as the result of my experience, that they will give a grouter profit in 'ecourse offve years' cultivation than an be derived from ciaring any ex. cept our rich river lands. This is the ;method I have adopted, and by which I have increased the pro. duct"ofsuch lands from 1 1.2 or 2 bar. refs of corn to 4 barrels per acre; and from 4 or 5 bushels of wheat to 10 and 12 bushels per acre. The increase in wheatr is - proportionably greater than that in. corn. My system of cu ture is substantially as follows Ifthe "broom straw,".in which these waste lands always grow up, retains any sap, by which, when turned under farmeuitation will ensue; and cause the straw to rot, let the land, as it is, be plowed with the largest size plow drawn by three or four horses, running as deep ly as possible--say, not less than ten inches-and turning every thing under. If' the straw has no sap, it wvill not rot in a year; and, in that case, burn it olf, and plow as i efore. I f possi ble, follow each piowv with a subsoil plow, anid go 6 or 8 inches deeper. This wvill make the stificlay, which almost every where underlies our hand, more openi to the genial influences of the sun and air, and enable it to get rid of the surplus wvator of winter, and of' heavy rains in other perio4i of thd year. both middle ofJune, following, wvhen the weeds a. About half grown, before they have formed their seeds, Inoi the land broadcast ut the rate of' a bushel per acre, with any of the numer. oun varieties of peas common among us, except theo "blockeyed," which, hmaging vcry little vine, affords little shade. In all cases, I prefer those which,have the most vine, and ripen earlie'st. When thme land has much or weeds or grass upon0 it, tlurn undmer thme peas with any kind of plow, running noit over three inches deep. I' thio ispd. is 6dre of weads, I prefer cove ring a4jefens prith a large, heavy harrow, runining it both ways--first lengthwise, and then across the beds. As it is im porrant to give the pens a start over the woeds arid grass, I soak uthem six lhours fltciatt and r'ub them. In plaster of Sais; And, when they begin to loaf out 'nd braunch, say, when 12 inches high, Ao lIanter at the fate of a btushiel pe ocre. This stimuIIlatesi their growthl, .it anbthy o t~rpoJwer theo weeds and grass. V hen abontit half thmr pens are rIpe .-not "halfr ip&'"--hogu shmould lie tu.rnedl in to :r.implo'anid c'ut up the vines otherwise it is extremely difficult to turn them under. So soon as this can be done, the hogs should be taken ot, for the peas are useful in shading the land from the summer's aun-a most important matter in all improvement and in giving to the thin soil a large mass of vine.leaves and other. vegeta. substances. From experience in the use of both, I think peas not inferior to clover (to which family, indeed, it be. longs,) as a specific manure for wheat. Afler this massof vine has been turn. d under, you have 'pea-ley,' over which sow a bushel and a half of wheat per acre, and six quarts of clover seed. Harrow both in thoroughly, and let the work be finished by the middle of Oc. tober. The return will of course, de. pond somewhat on the quality of the "old field;" but I venture to affirm, that it will amply repay all labor and out. lay, and astonish by the great result ap. parently from so trivial a cause.. I am familiar with the great increase of crops from the use of lime and clo. ver, and I do not mean to compare the two methods for renovating land as aqual; but, where limo is not to be had, there is no application that can com pare for a moment, on well drained land, (if it need druining) with plaster, peas and deep tillage. No gold mine is so valuable as a good marl pit. I am, however, confining myself to inte. rior districts, where neither lime nor marl can be had. After the wheat comes off in June following, the clover, if sown early in October, will have grown so as to shade the land pretty well, even on the waste lands I speak of. It should not be grazed the first year, at all; in the February after, top-dress it with all the manure to be had, not forgetting to apply all the old ashes within reach. This time of the year, (winter) is best for applyitig manure in our country, where the hot sun acts so injuriously on a bare sur face. The roots of the young clover being protected from hard frosts and sudden changes by the manure, it shoots forward with the earliest warmth of spring, and smothers all weeds. When weeds mature their seeds, they draw upon the fertility of land. equal to most crops. Clover gives a crop as profits. ble as any other, and it is all returnc-] to the land in the droppings of the stock while grazing upon it. As proof of its profit, for three years I have never fed my working horses but at mid.dav on grain or fodder, from the middle of May till the clover fails. They are turned on the clover-field after the day's work is over, and taken up in the morning in good condition for service. I have nev. er lost one by this managment; in fact they improve from the time they are thus treated, and work better. After the clover has been on the land for twvo summers, during which period it has droppjed three crops of leaves and stalks, and thereby greatly improved the land, either turn it under as before in September or Octob~er, for whleat, or later in the full for corn the ensuing year. In the former case, y'ou wvill find your land as thiickly set as before with volunteer clover, which ought to remaim as a pasture for the summer, af ier the second crop of wvheat conmes off If corni, instead of wheat, be grown, sow peas broadcast among the corn at the last plowving, soaking the seed arid rolling them in platster as before. A f ter the corn crop), do not suffer the land to "lie out." No error can be more oipposed to good farmiing, than that which assumes that land is improved b~y "lying out" and permitting a crop of weeds to [nature upon it. If we had duly reflected, this error wvouldJ long since have been apparent, in the con tinued sterility of thousands of acres lying waeste arounid us, not a whit im. pror-ed by "lying out.'" A fter the soil has once been brought up by peas, subsoiling, cor deep plowing and clover-all within roach of the far. mrer eveni in the interior-it will not again relapse, uniless the former harba. rous and senseless practice of exhaus tion anid negligence be again adopted. If limo can be had, even at a cost of 20 cents a bushel, I would in all eases spreadl it on the land, after the first crop of pcas.had been turned under, to the amount of tifteen or t wenty bushels per acre. This quantity will greatly benefit the land, and enable the owner shortly to repeat the application of a like q1uanttity.' No-ra 1r -ru~ Em-ro.-.It the Ag. riltural Report (of which one branch of Congress has'ordered 100,000 copies to be printed, and the other will, doubtless, ,rder halft as many .more,) contained no other information than the above pa per, from an eminently practical man. on the improvement of " Worn-out Lands, " we should regard the money as well expended. A very large share of the 832,000,000 annually paid into the national Treasury, is drawn directly or indirectly from the soil. Hence, its preservation and economical improve. ment, are the most important of our public interests. Progress of Tea Culture in the United States. Our fair readers will be much ex. hilarated by the following letter, show.. ing, apparently, the entire success of the experiments made in South Caroli. n, by Dr. Junius Smith, formerly of this city, in the cultivation of the tea plant. It would appear, also, that there is n prospect of obtaining a much more delightful tea on this our republican soil, than ever has been or can be, brought from Imperial China. Oue thing, though, is indispensible, if we would enjoy this pleasure, viz: we must olid fst to the Union; otherwise none ;f the choicest teas will be permitted to cross Mason and Dixon's lino.-N. Y. Jonrual <f Commerce. "GREENVILLE, S. C. May 1, 1850. "DEAR Sin: Although the winter has been rather severe, and the spring re. inarkably cold and wet, and protracted a month later than it was last year, yet I am happy to say the tea plant main. tains its original physiology. The same laws which govern the plant in China, Java, and India, govern it here. Not a single deficiency in my small garden. Every plant has taken effec. tive root, and early in April the leaf buds came out in great profusion, all starting from the foot of the old leaf stalk. About the 20th April, the buds influenced by increased temperature, followed their Chinese paternity, and began to develop an abundance of the most delicate leaves in regular season for the first gathering for the manufac ture of the choicest .quality of tea. Were it prudent to relax in the slight. est degree the reciprocal action of root and branch, and thus delay the vigor, growth, blossom and fruiting of the ma. tured plant, I could now gather a suffi. cient quantity of leaves to make a small supply of first.rate tea. But I compel myself to forbear the indulgence of a curiosity dear to my heart. "The fact that the foliage puts out at the same time that it does in China, af. fords another practical evidence of the a daptation of the American climate to the growth of the plant, and demonstrates the physiolog ical fitness of a plant idi. genous to Cha. to the culture of our own country.- The finial result depends upon our ow-n industry, and we have no more ground for fear or apprehen.. sion) of failure than we have in trans. planting a peach tree from Franca to A merica. The leaf is now of u light pea-green color, and nothing ctan be imagined mor-c tender andl dleticate. I can now understandl why it is that we cannot obtain the first quality of ten fronm China. Thelu first growth of the last leaf is so delicate that it is quite im possibile to divest it of humidity by fir. ing or roasting to sustain so tong a voy age, besides thme almost certainty of ut terly destroying its rich arnd precious aroma. I can unow understand why it is that a Chinese official of wealth anid dignity will pay a haundredt dollars a pound for tea grown in his own country. The quality of hiuds andI early leaves, compared wvith a general gathering of leaves fully growvn, must be small in. deed, and the value enhmance-d in po portion to the scarcity. "W have yet to learn the effects of different soils, climate, and locality, in the various tea-growing disti wit of our own country, both upon the growvth of the plant and the quality ofithe tea. We have no reason to suppose that these effects will be tess diversified here than they are in China; but gathering~ instruction from the cultivators in Chi. na, .Java, and India, I think wes have na occasion to caltivate a poor soil in a tropical climate, or one bordering uponi it, and thus produce an Inferior quality of tea. We certainly ought to produce the best, and none of the inferior quali ties grown in Chtna. In many res. De0ts we Dommond natural and paeliat advantages, which neither China, nor cl Java, nor India do or can possess. Our b market, whether European or Ameri. C can, lies at our door. We are spared ' the expensive and injurious process of 1 firing or roasting the tea-leaf to pro. al pare it for foreign markets. We have te abundance of fine cheap lands, with all ti the diversity of soil, climate anid aspect a that the plant can require. Our trans portation, facilitated by rivers, oanals, a! and railroads, is so short to shipping m ports, that the actual cost will not be one quarter so much as it is fron the gi tea plantations of China to Canton, the p part of shipment. More than all, eve. e ry farmer, certainly in the middle and al Southern States, may grow his own tea pr in his own garden, without the slighest de interference with his ordinary agricul tural pursuits. With these exclusive D privileges in our hands, if we do not i cultivate our own tea then I think We to ought to be tributury to those who calt r w us barhnians. "Yours, truly, JUN USSMITH." gi -ht Time Belle of the Ball Room. i 'Only this once,' said Edward Allston, w fixing a pair of loving eyes on the beauti. El ful girl beside him- only this once, sister ro mine ; nay, I will even kneel to you,' and ril he bent, half playfully. half seriously, be- si fore her. * Your dress will be my gift, and ar will not therefore. diminish your charity se fund; and beside, if the influences of which in you have spoken do indeed, haunt so allur- at ingly about a ball-room, should you not gl seek to guard me from their power I You ha will go, will you not 1 for ine--for me 1' he The Saviour, too, whispered to the mai- se den : * Decidie for me, thou redeemed one- se for ine.' But her spirit did not. recognize m the tones, for of late it had beei bewilder- tit ed with earthly music.. She N .a. i......., ' d''her brother r., pressed a kiss upon her thoughtful brow, ht and waited her reply in'silence. w Beware ! sweet Helen Allston, beware ! eP The sin is not less ed that the tempter is o% so near to thee. e the sparkle of the tI red wine to the inebriate are the seductive ha influences of a ball--oon. Thy foot will sli fall upon roses, but they will be the roses a of this world, not those that bloom for eter- at uity. The holy calm of thy closet will fit become irksome to thee, and tby power of he resistance will be diminished many fold, ui for this is the first great temptation.- at But Helen will not beware. While the th wari kiss is on her cheek, she forgets her :3 Saviour. The melody of that rich voice h: is dearer to her than the pleading ofgospel st meoneoris. ci Two years previous to the scene de. scribed, llelen Allston hoped she had pass. 1n ed from death unto life. For soine time n< she was exact in the discharge of social w duties, regular in her closet exercises, ar- o3 dent, yet equal in her love. Conscious of w her weakness, she diligently used all those et aids so titted to sastain and cheer ter.- di lay by day she kindled her torch at the la holy tire which comes strearmiing onward to til us froma the luminaries of the past--from, Baxter, Taylor and Flavel, anud maniy a ar compeer whose niamie will liv.e in the p.: hearts, and linger oii the lips, of the gone. Tj ratioiis which are yet to come. She was m alive to the presenat also. Uponi her table, lu with a beauutilul commuentairy uponi the )et so uinful Ii lled prop'1hesies, lay the record of hi iniissioniary labor and success. Theii sewig circle busied her active fin- eI gers, and the Sabbath Sc hool kept her er affections wam, and rendered her knowl- ai edge practlicable andu thorough. tuit at m length, the things of the world hegan in- R sensibly to win uponu her regardi. She was p the child of wea lhi, anad faion spoke of h<. her taste and elegance. She was very hi lovely, and the voice of flat tery imiingled 'fra with Ithle accenlts of hone'hst pra ise.-She i< was agreeaible in mann aer, sprightly in coni- w versation, and she was courted andl caress. in ed. She heard with compllacenicy reprt s fromi thle gay circles she hiad once freqluen- thI toel, :,iid noted wvith. miore interest thle ever. pl1 shifting pigentry of folly. T1hen she les- yi sened her charities, furnished her ward- le robe maore laisihily, and becamre les scru- ei pno us ini thle dI spoal'i of her tuniae. She I I formed aceluainitanices amoneg lie h ght anid sa briv Iouns, an id to, fit heorsel f fo r maitercou rse h<l wvith Iiti.m, sought thle hooks they read,m until ot hors beamie insipi.I Edwardl Alh~ton was proud of his sister, ar and lovedl her, too, abniiost to idolatry. w T(hey haiid searcely been, separated fromaa p) chiildhlood, .andt it was a se'verr: blowv to hnua wheni she shunned the anuseent 'hev' ' lad so long shared together, lie admiireod, til indeed, the excelence of hier second life, ol the bieauty of her aspirationis, the loftiness I of hier aims, hut lie felt deeply the wanlt of ti that unity in hope and purpose which had b existc d between themi. lie felt, at times, C indignant, as if something hiad been taken hi from himself. Therefore lie strove, by ti many a device, to lurg~ her ian the path he I was treading. Hie was very selfish in this, ti but unconscious of it. Hie would have h iwbed :precipices, traversed continents, I aved :he ocean in its wrath, to have res ted her from physical danger ; but, like i any others as thoughtless as himself, he di not dream of the fearful impo;tance of eoresult; did not kinow that the Infinite one could _cn pute the hazard of the mpted one. -Thus far had he succeeded, at she had consented to attend with hjm brilliant ball. 'It will be a superb af'air,' he said half oud, as he walked down street. 'The usic will be divine, too. And uhe need be so fond of dancing ! 'Twas a lovely rI spoiled when the black-coated gentry eached her into their notions. And yet -and yet--pahaw ! all cant I all cant !- I rhat harm can there be in it ' And if e does withstand all this, I will yield the .1 tot that there is something-yes, a great al, in her religion.' So musing, he proceeded to the shop of re. Crofton, the most fashiocable dress akor in the place, and forgot his momen- f ry scruples, in a consultation as to the i oper materials for Helen's dress, which c as to be a present from himself, and I Iich he determined should be worthy her t ace and beauty. The ball was over, and Helen stood in r festal costume before the ample mirror her chamber, .holding in one hand a bite kid f1ove she had just withlrawn. re had indeed been the belle of the ball. I om. Simplicity of life, and a joyous spi ,are wonder-workers, aind she was irre stably bright and fresh among the faded d hackneyed frequenters .of heated as mbly rooms. The moss' delicate and toxicating flattery had been ofibred her, id wherever she turned she met the ances of admiration. Itt brother, too, d boon protudly assiduous, had followed r with his eyes so perpetually as to em searcely conscious of the pre nce of another; and there she stood, inute after minute, lost in the recollec oms of her evening, triumph. Almost- queen like looked site, the rich l._ .r k. ..t;, g,,;"n (eliness to r slender form, and glitter:ng as if woven ith silver thread. Point lace, broad and quisitely fine, fell from her short sleeves er her snowy arms, and gave softness to e outline of her bust. A chain of pearls y on her neck, and gleamed amidst the ading curb=, which floated from beneath chaplet of white roses. She looked up length, and smiled upon her lovely ro ,ction in the mirror, and then wrapping urself in a dressing-gown, took up a vol. ne of sacred poems. But when she tempted to read, her mind wandered to e dazzling scene she had just quitted. te knelt to pray but the brilliant vision munted her still, and ever as the wind irred the vince about the window, there rme hack that sweet alluring music. She rose with a pang of self-reproach. stead of the confidence, the conscious ss of protection, the holy serenity with hich she usually sought her pillow, she :perienced an excitement and restlessness hIch nothing could allay. She attempt to mneditate, but with every thought of Ity came memnories of -be festive gar. nds, and the blazing lamps and the flit. g figures of the merry dnicegs. AnI openCt llble lay on the wvmdow seat, das she passed it sho read :-' Another rable put ie forth unto them, saying, hie kingdom of heaven is likened unto a an, which sowed good seed in his field. umt while he slept, his enemy camne and wed tares among thme wheat and went s way.' Tears sprung to her eyes, and she ex md'In the field of my)3 heart bath the emny sown tares.' She took up the book d read again: then too soulfull to re amn quiet, she rapid ly paced her chamber. esolutely and carefully she reviewed the st, back to her first faint trembhling pe. Rigorously, as itn thme presence of r M!aker, she scannied her first departure am the narrow path ; her earlier convic ims were piuungent, ten-fold mocre intense ins the agony of this, her second awaken. In the solitude of huis chamber, Edward ought with less elation of his successful an. lie helieved that~ Ilelen would have led to no ordinary temptation, and he It that he had been 'ecarcely generous to ilist lher atye'ctions agaminst her princiles. is repeated, ' It is but a trifle,' did not isfy hi im; and when lie had listened or a fteor hour. to her footfall, lie could lonmger restrain his intc hntlion to) soothe *r emtin. lIm vain he essayed all the gutments, allI the sophistry, which the orld employs to attract the luke-wanrm ofessor. * Do not. seek to console me,' said Ilelen; or such tears aro salutary, may dear bro er. I have virtually said that thme joys religion are fading and unsatisfactory; ntust solmetimes seek for others. I have iieted mtore tihan one uneasy conscience, Sthrowitng the intluence of a..r~ofessing biristian inmto the scale of the world. I1 uve wandered from my Father's side to e society of his rebel subjects. And yet, ha4 cause to mourn less for this one ansgression; than for the alienmatio~n of mart which led thu, way to it Ha.d I no alien far, very Tar, from the strength and lurity of my earlier loveeven your plead. ngs could not have moved we.' '.But the Bible says, nog4aing aliout such imusements, Helen.' 'Not in words, perhaps, but in effect, Put the ca*s to your own heart, Edward. Would you wish me to indulge in a edurse if conduct which woujd estrange me from sou I Would you have me choose for.my ompanions those who treat you with neg. ect I Would. you wish me to frequent laces whence I ishould return careless nd cold in my manner. toward. you 1 ih, brother ! I loved God once. I saw his land in everything around me. I felt his >resence perpetually,' and, trusted, child ike to His protecting arm. But now I re. lard him less, read .less, and give less. And then she revealed to her brother her ieantiful experiende--beautiful. till she grew negligent and formal= with a trutlh in earnestness, a loving simplicty, that, or the first time, gave him come insight nto the nature of truegpiety. ' And now, lear Edward, she said,' 'read to nie Christ's irayer for his people, that I may feel sure hat they prayed for me.' As she listened the varying expressions if her countenance indicatod many and aried emotions. Submission, sorrow, love ind faith-all wore there. When Edward iad finished, they knelt together, and He en, sorrowfully, yet hopefully, poured out ier full soul in confessions, and most ouchingly she hasought the divine com. tassion upon :ier erring brother. The carol of birds went up with the whispering Amen of the penitent, the ilossoms of the climliering lioneysuckle gent in their fragrance, and the morning un smiled ah them as they rose from irayer. The fat~e of Ieleg reflected her award adaess, and restored peacgshone n her dark eyes and tranquil countenance. Thou art happier than J.' said Edward, md with a light caress ho turned from the thamber. One year went bye and ;Edward Allston iwnke from an .imcady -slumber. Bib* mud insidious had been the approach of lisease. Softly, and in many disguises ad the spoiler come to him. He had sto. en the strength from his manhood, the oundness.fron his form, the mellow ex. >rossion from his eye, but he brought no error. 'Bear me to Helen's room,' sai' .ie sufferer, and the attendants performed is b Iding. It was the am:ivcrsary of the ball night. mid the room was unchanged, save that no eostal garments were scattered about it. lhe open window with the luxuriant bon. rysuckle bursting through and resting on lie open pages of a Bible, the chairs on which the two had sat, the cushions on which they had knelt, each with an arm Lbout the other, all were familiar. The in. ralid examined each well known object, ind then looked fondly upon his sister, his ,rayerful teacher, and unwearied nurse. ' It was fitting that I should come here o die,' he said, ' for it was here that I first earned who uaketh the death-bed easy. .)h, my sister, had you not been true to ourself, to your God, to me, where now 'ould be my hope ! where my consolation! 3hm, dear Uelen I if, in yeatrs to come, the oice of temptation be sweet to thee, if thy oot shoul d falter, and thou should'st step iside to gather a light flower, or stoop to a >ainted toy, then remember that ball night, mod let thy repentance be a. full, as free, mis humble as it wvas then. Let my mem ,ry be with thee, too, as thou walkest on. vard through life, that so thou miay'st win ithers as thou did'st moe, with the purity, lie vigor, thme warmth of thine own hopes indl experiences. Oine kiss dear one, and hon pray with rme for the last time, Unusually earnest anid rich in faith were lhe low accents that tilled the chamber. rhere was in them a tone not of earth, a nelody caught from the heaven towards w'hich they floated. More and rmore tri inmphanmt grew the thanksgiving of that rentle sister. Ever brighter grew the ouzntenance of the dying. To his ear, lie songs of angels blended with that ~arthly voice which was so dear. More mdt more perfectly, harmonized the two ; ie doubted if there ,were, indeed, any die. inction ; he smiled' faintly, and then the reed and ransomed spirit sped upwards to lhe hosom of the Eternal. From the hioston Transcript, May l5. Mrs. O'good's Last Pocas, We publish below, the last lines of lie depamrted Poetess, Frances Sargent 3sgood, w'ho died in New York last Sun~day, and wl-ase mortal remain. s'ill he carried to their resting-place his (Wednesday) nilornoon, from the bouso of her brother, in Washington it., above Dover, at the moment when his last touchinig effusion, the swan', lying song, will first meet the eh'g o het readers of the 7hacrip. It willi be seen firom this brief huftf u poem, wvhich was wrigan rgi yesterday, that Mr sGgni .A prioition of' her alpde~gn Shtewas Wel1,g?Thod live (eethe rp o Dup sentiment has been fulfille 8he the white end 'mr jbio -l the green budaof the young Spuingibut not its fruits and flowers. She 'Ineaw however, 'that t eywyi o Q )" forth in their season though hermorl rt sense might be 'sealed irtlf6frhu and their fragrance d iq was, equally assured -that- there wasanlIfe em Within the husk of our ianimal or hr' zation; which would bloorimnpe4 pba e: when our material part. wl: dust Ld ahes. Strong in :this fai -'" -ri: comed " death's graciusiengel, _ serenity and a child like tru will hier many friend$'laii nt h fethow,.ll deparure', .and fee ho h brighten t they take .thei4 la - and that, , "When suchfriends pst,' 'Tie the kurnivordies ! - The ~lines which -ollow, ;re dressed' to "aaovely youing girl who came one evening to amuse here making paperflowers and teachin r to rnketllem. You know hov muci' she loved the beautifpt." You'e woven rse way And gladdened 1 bein Ilownnch ! none can say saeenty d e png May Hie wh -ie avely' i ,. Thi love ly doings, Be with you whereso'&. go4 In ev'trf hope' I'a goinglteesh t Etral gates " - stia'aIovety Ansleadasme thgb 4 And letggee to go, " ar, thi sFtnS istible.- The fubborn .ouo serisiti of th Fenglish :'pope t. tr ta . ysterq of Cro wel r" "re'g:7ate arid stirnulateen s>4 . ers have inspired their foltower with a zeal as ardent. Bn ti iis d'p aine he most -rigid disai ine was foun4 p company with the fietest erithusiikn. His troops moved toi victory: wih.be Up precision of machines; while burning. with the wildest fanaticism'of c- ," era. From the time when the;gyrgy. was re-modeled, to the time wherlis banded, it never found, either on the British Islands or on. the Coptinent, enemy who could stand its onset. t ' England, Scotland, Ireland Flanders, the Puritan warriors, oiled surrounded by difficulties, sometimes' contending against three-fold odds, not anly, 6er failed to conquer, but never failed e - destroy and break in pieces whatever foroe.was opposed to them, They ate length came to regard the, day of bat tle as a day of certain triumph, and marched against the most renowrnsd ba. tallions of Europe with disdainful con fidence. Turenne was startled Ny the shout of stern exultation with uvhief' his English allies advanced to thoiom.. bat, and expressed the delight of a'frnz soldier, when he learned that it was ever the fashion -of Cromwell's ie men to rejoice when they .beheld the enemy; and the banished cavaliersfelt. an emotion of national pride, when tihey saw a brigade of their countrymeen ot6 numbered by os and .abandoned by allies, drive before it in headlongrotite. the finest infantry of Spain, and II a passage into a counterscarp which' ha utbeen pronounced imnpregnabe by the ablest of the marshals of Franq.E ~ But that which chiefif distinguigh$. the army of Cromwell from' othegrg mies was the austere mortality ad feat of God which pervaded all ranrs. I~ is acknowledged by the miost zeat. royalists, that in that sirigular camp, n& 'bath was heard, no drunkenness er gambling was seen ; and that dit the long dominion of the soldiery the property of the peace416o bit: i iid the honor of woman were lIted sacred~ If outrages were committed, they wpre outrages of a very difierent kind Froin those of which a- vktorious.arr generally guilty. No' "'arant~ gd' complained or the rough glt~ the red coats. Not ap on~ was taken from the a asmiths. But a PqI a 7 J window otn which i ~ was pa d~r ~ 4 ranks