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'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