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, THE CAMDEN JOURNAL VOLUME 3. CAMDEN, SOUTH-CAROLINA, APRIL 13, 1852. NUMBER 30. "~ THB CAMDEN JOURNAL, published semi-weekly and weekly by THOMAS J. WARREN. TERJIS. Tiie Semi-Weekly Journal is published at Thro Dollars and Fifty Cents, if paid in advance, or Fou Dollars if payment is delayed three months. Tiie Weekly Journal is published at Two Dollar if paid in advance; Two Dollars and Fifty Cents if pay ment be delayed tlirco months, and Three Dollars if no paid till the expiration of the year. ADVEBTISEMENTS will bo inserted at the follow ing terms: For one Square (fourteen lines or less) in th semi-weekly, one dollar for the first, and twenty-fiv ^ cents for each subsequent insertion. In the weekly Kevonty-five cents per square for the first, and thirtv-sc % ven and a half cents for each subsequent insertion. Sic glo insertions one dollar. Semi-monthly, monthly an quarterly advertisements charged the sarao as for a sit gle insertion. fg**The number of insertions desired, and the odi tion to be published in must be noted on the margin t all advertisements, or they will be published semi-week ly until ordered discontinued and charged accordingly THY VOICE 18 NOW SILENT. Thy voice is now silent, the hearth is now cold Where thy smile and thy welcome oft met me c old: I miss thee and mouin thee, in silence, unseen, I live on the memory of joys that have been? lt?i.nnr wooninc nor m^m'rv afford me relief, Ty-" r o For my heart is bowed down with the weight c its grief. I know that life's trials with thee are all past, That thy spirit, with angels, is happy at last; For in dreams of the night, when the world is a rest, I list to thee singing the song of the blest;? But those moments so blissful are broken and brie For my heart ifr bowed down with the weight c its grief. I pass through the world with a cloud on my brow I .gaze on its scenes?they are cold to me now? The spirit that gladdened the source of al! mirth Has faded away, like the sunshine from earth? .Night-dews, Nature's '.ears, bang on blossom am leaf, As though they condoled with the weight of m; grief. Pray God, dear departed, again we may meet, Where humanity's tempests no longer shall beai Where the soul, like the sunflower that turns fron the sod, Its bright eyes forever shall fix upon God? Where the transports of joy, neither broken no brief; 'Shall shake from the spirit the weight of all grief. A Cottager's Lament.?An English laborer whose child was suddenly killed by the falling o a beam, wrote the following line?, suggested b; the melancholy event. They are touching!; beautiful: iSweet, laughing child!?the cottage door Stands free and open now, "But oh! its sunshine gilds no more The gladness of tby brow! Thy merry step hath passed away; Thy laugliiug sport is hushed for a\e. Thy mother by the fireside sits, .And listens for thy-call; And slowly?slowly, as-she knits, Her quiet tears downfall: IHer little hindering thing is gone, .And undisturbed she may work an! From the Pictorial Drawing-Room Companion. THE FORGEDNOTE: OR, THE SCHEMING MOTHER'S MISTAKE. BY SYLVAVU8 COBB, JR. Mrs. Abraham Walpart was most cinphatical ly a woman of high life, while Mr. Abraham Wal part was a merchant in middling circumstancewho had to work most assiduously to keep his wif at that height of fashim which she had contrive to assume. Mr. Walpart labored diligently at hi -business?was honest and upright in his transac tions, and his pocket was afountain from whenc flowed a vast deal of money into his family; bu yet his vote upon domestic affairs amounted to mere cypher?and should he chance at any tim to give it, his wife invariably claimed the right i> veto. Julia was their only child?a girl of nine teen years ; and something may be known of he character from the tact that her mother often ox pressed her deep regret that one so beautiful am gifted as was her daughter, would not endeavor t< shine more in fashionable society. Julia Walpar was one of those beautiful females who are create* .to adorn the home of peace and joy, but wh nevertheless, cannot fail to shine with a rich, pur ? . 11?e i .. i;*u iigni, in any WU1K UL UUUCSb inc. The lamps had been lighted in Mrs. Walpart * sltti ug-room, and the lady and her daughter wet there alone. The former was rocking to and fro i her huge lolling-chair, evidently suffering und< ? some severe nervous shock, while Julia seemed t have been weeping, and even now her bosom wi -heaved by deep sobs of anguish. ""'Now you see, Julia," said Mrs. Walpart, i she stopped the motion of her chair, " to what pass you have brought yourself by not listenin to my advice. When you first began to receiv ' the attentions of that James Albee, I warned yo against him." """How did you warn me against him ?" aske \ > the feir girl, as she removed her hand from h< ' aching brow and gazed into her mother's faee. 44 How did I do it ? Why, did I not tell yo that he was nothing but a poor clerk, and that yo should look higher for a husband ?" "Yes, you did tell me that, mother; but tht was no warning against him. That was merel vour prejudice against his pecuniary affairs." " Prejudice, child V iterated Mrs. Walpart, e erating her brow with a sort of haughty assi ranee. w indeed, it was no such thing. I kne that he would turn out a swindler." " 15ut von never hinted such a thing before ft said Julia, struggling hard to keep back her risiDg emotions. " Perhaps I did uot in so many words," returned her mother; " but I never thought him any better than he should be." Julia Walpart gazed for a moment in her e mother's iaee and then burst into tears. She had r loved James Albec with her whole soul; and even though the charge of forgery hung over his head, 8 yet she could not hear him thus traduced. At j length she wiped her eyes once more, and with considerable energy, she said: w James Albee never committed that forgery e with which he is charged ! His soul is too pure ,? and noble for that. As well might you tell me .1 that this flinty topaz grew upon yon oleander!" t- " You speak foolishly, girl," said Mrs. Walpart, d with much sarcasm ; " but I trust you will let l" me hear no more of it. Your father has been . wrong iu thus allowing you to cultivate the ac,f quaintance of that Albee ; but I trust this cirwill lr>nrii him a IpKSilll. Now. Julia. * I hope you will be wise, and receive the atten! tions of Mr. Babbington. He is a fine young gentleman, fashionable in every sense of the word, and his society cannot fail of pleasing you as soon as you shall have learned to appreciate him." u Mother, if you have any feeling forme at all. do not allude to Mr. Babbington again." Julia said this with much emphasis, and her manner, seemed to throw her scheming mother somewhat aback, but ere she could make a reply 'f one of the servants entered and handed her a card. "I declare," said Mrs. Walpart, as she looked at the card, " Mr. Albert Babbington is at the t door. Show him up," she said to the servant, and then turning to her daughter, she continued ; " Now Julia, I must command you. Mr. I Babbington is my especial friend, and I would have you treat him with respect, at least, and by your respect you will soon learn to look upon him in a still more favorable light." '> Mrs. Walpart had no opportunity to say more, nor did Julia have a chance to reply, for it at that moment Mr. Babbington was ushered into the room. He was in very truth a " manj butterfly; with any quantity of hair, dress, jewelry and perfumery about his precious person; y and as he roplied to the salutations of Mrs. Walpart; he did it in that drawling, self-sufficient tone and style which marks the insufferable egotist. Julia instinctively shrank from the man '' to whom her mother would have her turn her 1 love; and though, for the sake of mere good breeding, she tried to treat him civilly, yet she found even that a difficult and irksome task, r Mr. Babbington," said Mrs. Walpart, after some twenty minuets had been consumed in crit icisms and strictures upon me cnaraciere 01 v?irious acquaintances, "have you beard anything r about the forgery?" : "Do you allude to the case of that?ah? Ali bee fellaw?" f " Yes, sir." " Aw?well?the fellaw has managed to get Ix nds. I am sorry for it, for the vulgaw wretch should be imprisoned. Such fellaws arc really dangawous to society. It is a wondah that the villain did not make my purse the object of his heinous cr'me?not that I should have missed a few thousands, howevah." But tell me, Mr. Babbington, who it was that was so foolish as to bail this forger?" "Aw?really?have you not heard?" "No?indeed I have not." "Well, my dear lady Walpart, you must pardon him for his folly, for 'port my honaw, I think he meant it for charity. It was Mr. Walpart." "Not my husband?" "Really, Lady Walpart, I must say it was." "Then, Cod bless him for a good heart!" ejac?Vi0 lruilr nf miticrlw] COIltemnt UiaiVU * mm, nuuy ?w. ^ A and anguish that had dwelt upon her handsome features gave place to an expression of real grati1 tudc. 1- Mr. Albert Babbington flourished his perfus mod handkerchief with a sort of nervous movee ment, while Mrs. Walpart looked the picture of J utter astonishment and chagrin. But she was s relieved from the necessity of attempting to smooth over her daughter's indiscretion to her e visitor, by the sudden appearance of Mr. W'alt part. The merchant gave a very cold return to a Mr. Rabbington's "good evening;" -and as he e saw that his dearly loved daughters face was 0 suffused with the shades of sorrow and inortification, his temper was not all softened. It did r not take long for the superfine guest to discover, that though the mother favored his suit, the 1 father failed to appreciate his good qualities. In o fact, Mr. Albert Babbington thought Mr. Walt part was rather more distant than usual, and J ere long he made an excuse for his departure. u For several moments after the visitor had gone, e an unbroken silence j?orvaded the room. The merchant was removing his boots, Julia seemed 's to be pondering upon what had passed, while e Mrs. Walpart rocked to and fro in her chair more n furiously than ever. At length as her husband :r sat back in his chair, she .asked, in a tone anyo thing but pleasant: " W> nlrtoft rIt/1 T Vioof rlnrlitlv ivi'tli rnnrnivl 13 jril. u iu|;au, viiv* x uuui ...v.* .<* to your bailing that forger ?" is "I don't know, I'm sure," laconically replied a the gentleman. g "You know whether you became bondsman e for James Albce, do you not ?" sharply jiskcd the u ladv. "Ah, now I understand. Yes I did become d bondsman for the young man." ;r "And don't you know you are making a fool of yourself, Mr. Walpart ?" u "Really, my dear wife, you flatter me," returnu ed the merchant, in a tone of perfect coolness. "Flatter you, sir ? No, sir. Let me tell you it that you have acted the pcrfoct fool in this muty ter. It was not enough that you should, in spite of all my arguments?" 1- "P-h-e-w! Arguments /" interrupted her liusi band. w "Yes, sir?arguments, sir. It was not enough that you should insist upon his visiting the house, but now that he has proved himself a villain. you should still cling to him. You are ruining our family reputation, sir!" "In the eyes of Mr. Jiubbington, I suppose," quietly remarked Mr. Walpart, with an unusual degree of sarcasm. Mr. Babbington is a gentleman, sir, and I would thank you not to treat his name with disrespect," retorted Mrs. Walpart, with a look and action of offended dignity. "He has a sincere regard for Julia, and I yet hope that both you and she will come to a sense of your own interj ests." "So we probably shall," replied the merchant; "but you must excuse me now, for I have some business to attend to." As Mr. Walpart spoke he drew liis chair up to a table, and taking from his pocket a small bundle of papers, he began to look them over. His wife knew that further attempt at an expression of her thoughts would be utterly useless, and after remaining for a few moments a silent spectator of her husband's movements, she arose from her seat and left the room. On the thext morning, ere Mr. Walpart arrived at his store, a young man called tosee him, on/1 oninniY Kic f/-fc """ ? James Albee, he was requested to step into the counting-room, and await the merchant's coining. James Albee had just entered upon the stage of manhood, and a single look upon bis open, kindly smiling counteuance would at once disarm the unprejudiced mind of all suspicion, and yet he rested under the charge of forgery ! A check for five thousand dollars, purporting to have been signed byTiis employers, Messrs. Folt & Babrook, had been presented at the bank and cashed over a month previous, but, as Albee had the principal management of the business, the firm had not, until within a week, discovered the fraud. ! As soon as Mr. Folt saw the check he knew it to be spurious, and after serious consultations with his partner, suspicion was fastened upon James Albee. No palpable circumstances showed that he had made any use of the money, and an examination was made of his trunks; this proved nothing, however, and while yet the firm were in doubt upon the subject, they learned that young Albee had lately loaned to a friend, who was about commencing business, four thousand dollars. This, together with the teller's evidence that Albee himself had presented the forged check, was deemed a conclusive evidence, and J the young man was accordingly arrested. A bill was found against him, and he was held in heavy bonds for trial, Mr. Walpart, as the reader already knows, having recognized himself for the required amount. There seemed no possible waj' to clear himself of the fatal charge, and as be sat now in the merchant's counting-room j there was a deep shadow of sorrow upon his manly features, and his heart lay heavy and sad in his bosom. At length Mr Walpart arrived. He greeted young Albee kindly, and having consulted his watch lie called upon one of his clerks, and giving him two letters, he bade him leave one of them at the Canal Bank, and the other at the store of Folt (t Babrook. "Cheer up. .Tames," said Mr. Walpart, shortly i after his clerk had left. "If I am not greatly mistaken, all will yet come light." "Have you a clue, then, to the solution of the ! mystery ?" asked James, as he started forward and laid his hand nervously upon the merchant's arm, while his eyes danced in a flood of hopeful light. "I think I have; but we must wait for a short time, and I may then be enabled to give you a | definite answer." The merchant went al>out arranging some of his papers, while the youth took up a paper and j began to run over the morning's news. At the j end of half an hour the clerk returned, acconi- j panied by Messrs. Folt Babrook and one of their salesmen, together with the teller of the Canal Bank. "Gentlemen," said Mr. Walpart, as soon as the morning's salutations had been passe*'. "I have requested your attendance here in order to ascertain if we may not clear Mr. Albee from the charge that rests against him." "Indeed, sir," said Mr. Folt, with a real frankness, "no one would be more happy at such a result than myself; but yet I must say that things look dark against him." "Perhaps they do," returned Mr. Walpart, "but nevertheless we may be able to throw some light upon them. In the first place, gentlemen, the circumstance of his having money is clear. For eight long years he has been saving each quarter a portion of his salary, and this he has had invested in various ways, as I can testify, and even at the present moment I hold some two thousand dollards of his money. Now, sir," he continued, turning to the bank teller, "on what day did you pay that five thousand dollars upon the forged check ?" "On the fifteenth of last month." "Have you examined the book-keeper's accounts for that day, {is I rcquestcdr' "Yes sir." /And what is the result?" "I have examined tho book-keeper's journal, and I fear that I may have given in my evidence at Mr. Albec's examination, with too much reliance upon my own memory," returned the tel1?'' imnn cvaniination. 1 find that shortly 1C, .... ~ , - after the bank was opened, I paid to the checks of Fult <fe Babrook eight thousand dollars; then before that check of five thousand dollars was paid, there arc thirty-four entrances upon the journal, so that the latter must have been some paid some three hours later than the former, and at a time, too when there was quite crowd about my desk. The eight thousand I certainly paid to Mr. Albee, but I have an impression now that the other sum was not delivered to him.'' "Mr. Folt," said Mr. VValpart, to that gentleman, is not that the morning on which yourself and Mr. Babrook went to Batavia?" "It is," returned Mr. Folt, "and I drew out the eight thousand dollars to use in buying up flour." "Now. Mr. Russell," continued Mr. Walpart, addressing the young salesman who had accompanied Folt <fc Babrook, "do you remember if Mr. Albee left the store that forenoon after his employers had gone?'1 "Not until after two o'clock, sir," returned the young man, with a confident air, "for I remember that he sent his assistant clerk to deposit and pay two notes at the bank, because both our employers had gone, and there was considerable business going on." "Now, gentlemen," said Mr. Walpart, rubbing his hands with considerable satisfaction, "you sec how easy it is for men to be mistaken. The bank teller knew that he paid thirteen thousand dollars on the fifteenth to the checks of Folt & Babrook, and they knew that they only drew checks for eight thousand. He also knetf that he paid money to James Albee, and those two circumstances, both put together, look convincing; but you now see that when thoroughly sifted out they amount to nothing, for you see that it is impossible that the young man could have drawn the money, even though he had forged the chock, and that he did this of course there is no evidence now that the other i? iinrrw->f<vl " A moment Mr Folt stood in deep thought, with his hand upon his knit brow, and his elbow resting upon the desk. Then while his countenance opened to a kind, frank look, he step ped quicklv forward and seizing the hand of the suspected clerk, he said: "James, I know that you are not guilty of this crime. I have suspected you, for I had grounds; but what Mr. Walpart has brought, added to your whole exemplary life, gives back to you your untarnished honor." In vain was it that tl e youth attempted to utter his joy in words. Ilis heart beat too wildly, and the warm tears rolled in a blinding flood from his tremblincr eves. He turned to Mr. Walpart, but even then his words failed him, though the silent blessing that rested upon his grateful features was not to be mistaken. " Mr. Townly," said Mr. Walpart, turning to the bank teller, as soon as Albec had taken his seat, "are you engaged this evening?" " No, sir." " And you ?" he continued, to Folt & Babrook. "No, sir," they both replied. " Then I would deem it an especial favor if you would sup with me to night at the A House, and after that accompany me to my own dwelling, and if I am not mistaken you shall then have the whole of this matter cleared up." The gentlemen agreed to the arrangement, and after Mr. Folt obtained from James an assurance that he would call upon him during the day, they separated. Never, perhaps, did Mrs. Walpart feel more scandalized than when her husband returned in the evening, in company with James Albec. Julia, from motives of delicacy, Mr. Walpart had requested to remain away from the sittingroom till he sent for her. The lady was somewhat surprised, however, when she found that \fpssrs_ Knit .1- Babrook accoruoanied him: and when she was introduced to Mr. Towulv, whom she remembered as having been one of the witnesses at the examination of young Albee, she was, to use her own expression, " all struck with wonder." Half an hour passed away, during which the gentlemen kept up a commonplace conversation, occasionally passing some remark with Mrs. Walpart, who felt not a little llaltc-rod by the attention of such rich men as were the two flour merchants. At the end of that time one of the servants announced Mr. Albert Babbington. He was shown into the room, and though lie entered with his usual air of self-sufficiency, yet when he became aware of the nature of the company present, a sudden pallor overspread his features, and his hand trembled as he received the greeting grasp of the merchants, "A very foinc evening, Mistnw Walpart," said Babbington, as he took a seat, endeavoring the while to compose himself from the effects of the strange tremor that had seized him. " I'crhaps it is," returned Mr. Walpart, as lie cast upon the puppy a look of ineffable contempt, and then wheeling his chair about with a decided movement, lie continued: " Mr. Babbington, as business Las called these gentlemen here, you will pardon nie if 1 proceed at once to its transaction." " Oh?aw?ah?certainly, sir," returned the exquisite, striving to smile through his palpable fears. "Then,sir," said the merchant, "I will do it in as few words as possible. On the fifteenth of hist month a forged check, in the name of Folt it Babrook, was presented at the teller's desk of the Canal Bank and cashed. Do you know anything of the matter?" "Afc, sir," uttered Babbington, utterly confounded at the strangeness of the question, but nevertheless drawing himself up with extreme dignity. "Really, Mistaw Walpart, you are decidedly facetious. You will have to ask some one else that question." "Then Mr. Babbington, perhaps you will explain to me where you obtained the four thousand dollars that you lost in the Jockey Club Room on the evening of the day to which I have alluded." Mrs. Walpart by this time came to a pretty clear understanding of what the business was, and as, she witnessed the fearful effects of her husband's last question upon her fiishionable friend, she found it absolutely necessary to faint. The husband rang the bell for a servant, and as lii* wife was beimr conveyed out, he gave diree tions for the sending up of some one who was waiting in the hall below. "Gentlemen," said Mr. Walparf, "there is 110 need that I should keep you longer in the dark. A few days sines I reeieved from an unknown source?but from some one who supposed that the villain was working himself into the good graces of my family? the information that Mr. Albert Babbington was a notorious gambler. and that on the fifteenth of last month he had lost over four thousand dollars at one sitting.? At once the idea of this forgery flashed opou me, and?" "It's a lie! a base, cowardly lie!" exclaimed the accused inan, as he started from his,geat. "Never mind," quietly returned Mr. "Walpart. "There are some who will help us." As he spoke, two policemen, followed by a rakishly dressed youth, entered the room. "That's the fellow who presented the check !'f uttered Mr. Townly, as his eyes rested upon the " So he has already confessed," said Mr. \Valpart, and thenjtirning to the youth, he continued: to whom foil delivered the money.', iifPL ... jujrii i ? i i! vr_ *t xuat man ae saia, punning tu jix. s\ibert Babbfeg ,, yfi "You c&?^tfhim in charge, and I will appear before the proper tribunal in the morning," said Mr. Walpart, addressing the policemen. Babbington swore terribly, but it availed him nought, and in a few moments he was in safe custody, and on his way to the "Tombs." "It took but a few words for Mr. Walpart to , explain how, after he had received the anonymous note, he went to the club room and sifted the matter out?how he found the youth who had presented the check, and how he had contrived to entrap the real scamp without exciting his suspicions. Both Mr. Folt and Babrook humbly begged the young clerk's pardon for the uujust suspicions they had against him, and they urged him to return to their employ; but Mr. Walpart informed them that Mr. Albce was going into business with himself and after renewed pledges of natural friendship, Messrs. Folt and Babrook, and Mr. Townly, took their leave, and as soon as they were gone the old merchant rang for his daughter. "There, Julia," said the happy father, as he took the fair girl's hand, "James stands nobly clear from every taint of dishonor, and while he and myself enter into a partnership for business, you and he may make such arrangements for your own course as you see fit.,' As the old man spoke he took the hand of the youth and placed within it that of his daughter, and, after he had done so a fervent " Gfod bless ijou''' fell from his lips. At that moment the world afforded no thoughts of sorrow for these young hearts ; but its they wept for joy upon each other's neck all was bright as an unclouded heaven about them. Mr. Albert Babbington was duly convicted of the forgery, and he is even now laboring within the walls of the prison in expiation of his crime, while Mrs. Walpart has resolved henceforth to look deeper for the true man than upon the mere surface of fashionable life ; and trust rather more to her husband's good judgement for the future. Beautiful Thoughts. DV BISHOP TAYLOR. God hasscut some angels into the world, whose office is to refresh the sorrow of the poor, and to lighten the eyes of the disconsolate. And what greater pleasure can we have, than that we should bring joy to our brother; that the tongue should be turned with heavenly accents, and mate the weary soul listen for light and ease; and when he perceives that there is such a thing in the world and in the order of things, as comfort and joy, to begin to break out from the prison of his sorrows at the dour of sighs and tears, and by little and little begin to melt into showers and refreshm ;nt. This is glory to thy voice and employment fit for the brightest angel. So I have seen the sun kiss the frozen earth which was bound up with images of death and the colder breath of the north; and then the waters beak from their enclosures, and melt v ith joy, and run in useful channels, and the flies do rise again from their little graves in walls, and dance a while in the air to tell that joy is within and that the great mother of creatures will open tho stock of her new refreshment, become useful to mankind, and sing praises to her Redeemer: so is the heart of ft sorrowful man under the discourse of wise comfort; he breaks from despair of the grave and the fetters and chains of sorrow?he blesses God and lie blesses thee, and he feels his life returning; for to be miserable is death but nothing is life but the comforter. God is pleased with no music below, so much as the thanksgiving son^s of relieved widows, and supported orphans, ot rejoicing, comforted and thankful persons. Never Sat Die.?If you can't succeed at one busiucss, try another. If you fail as a cobler, enter yourself as a member of Congress. In short, do anything but 'take to despair. When Monsieur Jollic presented his picture of "Moses Crossing the Red Sea," the Curato of the Loure threatened to kick it out of doors. Did that dishearten him? Not at all. lie went home, ; n littlo chrome vellow to it. cave it a new I name, "Cicsar Crossing the Rubicon," and sold it in less than a month to the same Curate for ten thousand francs. Tlore we see the advantages of "never giving up." Had Monsieur Jollie been like most men, the insult Gallery," would have resulted in a shilling's worth of prussic acidBut he wasn't like most men; the consequences is, he lias hecome a lion of the first magnitude. When similarly situated then go and do likewise. Impeachment ok Arista.?It has been proposed in the Mexican Congress to impeach President Arista, for instigating a Capt, Buenarbad to thrash one of the members, Senor Villanuev?, who had made a speech in the Chamber of Deputies, violently censuring the conduct of the President. Capt. B. it appears, exhibited a paper from Arista, authorizing him to haul Senor V. over the coals, for his speech; and Arista, it is said, stood in a balcony at the time, apparently a delighted spectator of the combat. ????? ??-?? "Did your fall hurt you, Pat ?" " Not in the least, honey; 'twas stopping so quick that hurt me."