University of South Carolina Libraries
THE CAMDEN JOURNAL | VOLUME 3. CAMDEN, SOUTH-CAROLINA, APRIL 30,1852. NUMBER 35. THE CAMDEN JOURNAL. PUBLISHED 8EMI-WEERLY AND WEEKLY BY THOMAS J. WARREN. TERMS. Tue Semi-Weeklt Journal is published at Throe Dollars and Fifty Cents, if paid in advance, or Four Dollars if payment is delayed three months. The Weekly Journal is published at Two Dollars if paid in advance; Two Dollars and Fifty Cents if payment be delayed three months, and Three Dollars if not paid till the expiration ottne year. ADVERTISEMENTS will bo inserted at the following terms: For one Square (fourteen lines or less) in the Semi-weekly, one dollar for the first, and twenty-five txsnts for each subsequent insertion. In the weekly, I Seventy-five cents per square for the first, and thirty-seYen and a half cents for each subsequent insertion. Single insertions one dollar. Semi-monthly, monthly and quarterly advertisements charged the same as for a single insertion. ETThe number of insertions desired, and the edition to be published in must be noted on the margin of ;all advertisements, or they will be published semi-weekly until ordered discontinued and charged accordingly. wnnmnm. Night o'er the stormy sea Her dusky wing unfurls; The tempest's revelry The stout ship wildly whirls; And clouds like goblins grim Frown round those gallant men? Hope's light is growing dim Ne'er to revive again! The lightning fiercely leaps From sky to sea of fire, The wrathful thunder sweeps Its wierd and giant lyre? The streaming sails are rent, The masts now groan, now fall? Darkness is fitly sent, The wreck'd ship's funeral pall! The waves are dashing higher? The faithful plank is broken; One flash?their bark, their pyre? Few farewell words are spoken,? Sea-monsters wistfully Await their death doomed prey? Their ship, the sea, the sky, All blazing fade away ! God save those valiant hearts! Sunk in the treacherous waves, Their gapping breath departs, j And nameless are their graves. ! The .vailing winds their dirge, Are hymning mournfully; The bounding billow surge Morn from that drear, dark night, Wakes radiant and fair, Wide streams her rosy light? Nor storm, nor ship is there; No ripple marks the spot Where men so madly strove? Her death-fraught rage forgot All nature smiles with love! So many a mariner On Passion's sea is tossed ; And in the stormy stir, Now struggles?now is lost; But life whirls gaily on, Unmindful of his fate? Not all the bad are gone? Not all the good are great! Mobile Register. From the Dublin University Magazine. MEMORY. iSoft as rays of sunlight stealing On the dying day; 3weet as chimes ot low bells pealing When eve fades away ; 'Sad as winds at night that moan Through the heath o'er mountain lone, Come the thoughts of days now gone On manhood's memory. Ah the sunbeams from the heaven Hide at eve their light; And the bells when fades the even r Peals not on the night; As the night winds cease to sigh "When the rain falls from the sky, 'Pass the thoughts of days gone by From age's memory. Yet the sunlight in the morning Forth again shall break, -And'the bells give sweet voiced warning 'To the world to wake. iSoon the winds snail iresniy oreame ; O'er the mountain's purple heath ; But the path is lost iu death? f He bath no memory. % Life Insurance.?A bill is now before the {Pennsylvania House of Representatives to regulate the business of life insurance. It requires full detailed statements of the bnsiness and re sources of all the companies taking risks within the commonwealth, whether domestic or foreign. Whenever it shall appear from these statements that the assets (not including premium notes) of any such company, are not sufficient to insure the outstanding risks, the Secretary of State shall communicate such fact to the \ .'Attorney General, whose duty it will then be^ome to apply to the Supreme Court of an or der, requiring the company to show cause why its business should not bo closed. The companies are also required to deposite fifty thousand dollars in stocks on approved mortgages, with the Secretary of State, as security for the faithful performance of their obligations. Ex-Governor Young, of New York, died at Albany on the 23d inst. TEMPTATION. lc HOW FEW KNOW THEMSELVES. m "lead us not into temptation." ot It is a common infirmity with human nature s? to denounce in others, errors and shortcomings, . acts of ommission or commission, to which all ! are more or less liable, and which the very com- y plainer would have committed or indulged under similar circumstances. It is an easy thing, comparatively speaking, for a man to be correct, ri -v ' gid and upright, who is compelled thereto by w the necessities of the case, or who is not placed n< within the reach of temptation. There is little w e 1 _ i.. . 1 x ci merit, ior example, to me temperance ui <*u individual, who has never been thrown into gay society, who has a constitutional distaste for all j that intoxicates, or who has been trained from early youth to avoid as little less than poison, P the inebriating bowl. And so, too, with many a other weaknesses or vices. In order to judge of 1 ourselves and of others fairly and justly, we should ar take all the circumstances together, the disposition, the education, the society, and the terapta- v* tious generally. Many men become dizzy by prosperity, and from a very excess of spirits aud 8P ' ' 11 i ? rui DT generous teeungs iau an easy prey, umere are * the victims of credulity. They are 'played upon' by the specious, the able, and the beguiling, and <.u are thus won to ruin. Let no one assume to J1 himself superior powers of moral resistance.? 8? Let no one who has not been subjected to the c.11 fiery ordeal, imagine that he could resist this species of fanaticism, or that of social indulgence. Let no one in mere arrogance and selfconeeit, ^ cherish the delusion that he is the sole master of himself?that he understands all his follies and j> frailties, that he can curb and control himself under any and all circumstances?and that he has therelore no reason to appeal to a superior power. The wisest sometimes commit frightful ,n< errors, while there does not breathe throughout 8n the length and breadth of the world we live in, hc an individual, be he high or low, so self-poised, clearminded and true-hearted, as to be beyond " the reach of temptation in all cases?the temp- 1 tation, we mean, not only of honor, and of power and of affluence?but of feeling, passion, prejuj:? *?l?u:. i r. ?i r. uiue, taste, uaun anu uujvy iiieuu it is uiciuiuie that a due degree of liberality and forbearance should be exercised, when adverting to the missteps, the delusions, the downfall of others. And P" yet the world, generally speaking, is sadly dis- *1V posed to pronounce harsh and rash judgments.? The idol of to-day, if in the enjoyment of power, is lauded and flattered in a thousand forms. But topple him from his position, take from him e(* his magic wand of influence, reduce him down to the common level, and associate with his name, ?al some error, weakness, or delinquency?the fruit, '1V perhaps, of some sudden and trying moment of temptation, and the very men who before bowed, lal fawned and cringed before him, were proud of l'1( his acquaintance, and gloried in his position, are alas! too often among the first to revile, assail 'at and exagerate his error. They spring uj*on ou hitu with all the fury of ingratitude, and seem to 10 gloat over his downfall and his ruin. They do wr not pause to discover paliatives or explanations, en but, on the contrary, affirm that they "long ow suspected him, and that he has only realized "I1 their apprehensions." He is contemned and de- ne nounced, and the bitterness of his position is ren- an dered still more wretched hv the melancholv to fact to which we have adverted! Alas! for the 1S heartlessness of the world!" True, there are exceptions?noble, generous, and magnanimous; ou but they are few and far between. nc 'Lead us not into temptation,' is a prayer arl that we should have constantly, not only on our nc lips, but in our hearts. The dreams of ambition sai are fu'l of fascination. They dazzle, bewilder, and too often betray. How frightful arc the he examples exhibited in the pages of history!? ^e How many have mistaken false or true ambition ?and in an effort to obtain power and occupy ^ position, have trampled upon truth and right, k aye?imbrued their hands in the blood of their "e fellow creatures, The desire for gain, the year- ^ ning passion of avarice, is beset with a thousand ^ temptations. It absorbs all other considerations. a' The right and the manly are forgotten?all the gentler and finer emotions are lost sight of, and the wretched worshipper of Mammon becomes ^ reckless, heartless, and sordid. The passion with W1 him is all-powerful, the golden bubble excites w< and maddens. He worships money as a god, and is almost unconscious of the infatuation.? hi It lures him on from step to step, and in many aP cases, health, and in some even life itself is sacri 8<1 ficed. But the world is full of temptations.? ^ They are around us in every form. Scarcely a [ ^ day goes by, that the public journals are not |9 onllcd linon to chronicle victim* Tnrmirc into m the particulars, and it will be ascertained that jd some gorgeous speculation dazzled for the mo- m ment, won the sanguine and the eager from the ordinary pursuits of life, and thus tempted to nc ruin! How many have fancied that they could ^ go into the Stock market, watch the ups and downs with eyes of more than ordinary intelli- 210 gence, could detect the causes of the various fluetuations, the secret springs of action, and thus profitting by their superior sagacity, speedily en- Wl rich themselves. Alas! the fortunate in this P* hazardous field, are as one in a thousand; while tr the ruined may be pointed out by hundreds and ^ hundreds. The very success in the first case, P1 tempts the infatuated to plunge on still more w /lo^nlv anrl Kf?nOP. thft finnl HisnnUr i? nnlv H3 more fearful. ee Of course, at the commencement, the deter- m mination is to be especially cautious, to avoid any extraordinary risk, and to shrink back from 'u the abyss, long before anv thing like an ap- ^ proach to its brink. But the delirium increases hi gradually, the excitement deepens with the chances of the time, and thus the poor victim tr discovers that he is inextricably involved, only 01 when it is too late to retrance his footsteejm.? Then the bitterness of self reproach is sure to ai follow. Had he only been satisfied with a mod- c< erate position?had he but adhered to his regular avocation?had he but resisted the first si- ? nt voice of temptation! What folly?what adness?how bitter the penalty! And yet, hers daily and hourly may be seen treading the ,mc path, and engaged in the same fearful jk. But there is, perhaps, no sphere of life so 11 of temptations as one of idleness. The ind unemployed becomes restless and impatient, isionary schemes and bubbles present themlves?gay and artful companions are constantat hand?vicious habits are imbibed, and reck and ruin are almost inevitable. At first, > danger is apprehended ; and yet, we repeat, e are all to some extent, ihe creatures of cirimstances, We may be moderate and prudent d temperate and correct, if compelled to such policy by our position in life?by the necessity imposed upon us of being constantly cm oyea, aim by the pressing responsibilities ot a rnily. But let us change the scene. Let us tve abundant leisure and abundant means, id thus be subjected to many extraordinary mptations. Or, let us be reduced to the very irge of anguish and despair, by the treachery some friend, or the madness of some wild cculation ; and then, let temptation come with offers of relief?nay, of sudden wealth, if we ake but one more bold effort?if we but venre upon yet another daring experiment. Alas idge not, lest ye be judged.' Let him who indeth, take heed lest he fall.' Let us, if our rcumstances in life have thus far been compar,*ely easy and pleasant?if in our wanderings 3 have been able to resist the little temptations at beset us?if we are still in the enloyment integrity and charity?let us be merciful and nerous towards such of the sons of men as ive been tempted in an hour evil to comit some fatal error?an hour of madness when ey were betrayed by the excitements of the Dment?let us be mild and merciful forbearing d forgiving. For the time may come, either re or hereafter, when we may feel the necessiof like generosity?when we may be compcl1 to appeal to and rely upon the clemency of e Great Judge of Heaven and Earth ? Philadelphia Enquirer. From the Olive Branch. Perfection in Living. How few understand the art of living hapy! And is it not strange, when so many have ed before us, and we might derive the advance of their experience, that after all we so fail attaining the des: rable end 1 We begin wrong, d then keep on wrong, and of course are doom to end wrong. Take for example a newly irried pair. The enquiry is not often 4 what a we afford, and how can we best consistently e V but1 what can I induce my father to give 5 ? how handsome an outfit can I possibly obn ??The Brussels carpets and long mirrors iu 6 houses of the affluent, did not always hang are. There was a tedious process of accumuion before sufficient was earned to justify the tlay. The old man, ten chances to one, sailed foreign lands, encountered storms and ship eck, but not disheartened, still pursued his lploymcnt, and at length became a successful ner and retired from his exposed condition on the waves. But he has a daughter?she vcr knew of her mother's anxieties, lest master d cargo should be lost; for she was too young be distressed with imaginary troubles. She to be married; and this same hard earned aney is freely expended, and the new mansion tvies the old one; but, alas, we fear the expemce of that toiling pair is wanting to learn the t of living rightly. The idea that' father is :h and I shall never want,' has ruined thou UU3. There, too, is the opulent merehaut Was always so ? iSonie may tell you he once trail in a very small way, but they remember too w carefully he kept an eye to his accounts, at expenditures should not exceed the income, the son pursuiug the same course ? Where rides, the father walked. When the father gan life, the evenings were not spent at theajs nor amusements, but in a snug corner with little square table before a small fire, he used 4 figure up' how much he could afford to purase for the enlargement of his stock; and en his prudent wife was willing to dispense th all useless finery. How is it now! Ho is )rth two hundred thousand ! Does he enjoy ore at the marble table, when the son is vexing m to know if he may not go abroad, as an ology for doing nothing, than at that little uare one where only one candle shone upon 9 Day Book and Ledger ? He will tell you, Jut Frank must be indulged.' and the money launched out which will unfit him for a busy, dustrious, happy life. Travelling merely to be le, never benehtted anybody; for they are too dolent to improve. Things that are had for the mere asking, are >t prized like those for which we have toiled, is a miserable notion that we must shield chilcn from knowing how to labor?aye, and from :tual labor. They never can know happiness, iey never will live well. When shall we learn that it is not what is ithout, but what is within, that gives the true iifection of living I 1 really believe tbe wnoie ouble lies in doing rather than overdoing, ^hen 1 see people so vexed bv'cause they cannot ocure some one to do for them what they ould feel all the better for doing themselves, y envy for the wealth occasions the torment, ased. The fretfulness of the present day is uch on the increase, simply because we are so epcndant on others. The multiplication of xuries, makes the multiplication of servants, /e overload our tables, and at the same time tve a distaste for viands which no ^oil has veetened. The poor body is put under 44 elecic shocks," because our nerves are too weak to .'ersee our cook or direct our chambermaid. We are forced to ride where we should walk, id then complain of the inattention of the lachman, and scold him about his carelessness. Getting one's living" is considered vulgar, and ? no passport to good society is furnished peo pie who work, is it any wonder so many are striving to be gentlemen and ladies ? This causes the clerk to lay out all bis salary (it is well if he docs not more) in imitation of the rich man's son who dresses no better than he?and the little shop girl foregoes many comforts, that she may secure a silk dress like a customer's. With these perverted views, where are we to end ? Who will make the next generation ? Truly we shall never attain to any perfection in living, until urn loom t/\ lu> nu in/Jtinnnrlnnt na rmccihlo Ullblt II V IVWI M UV W U'J lUUV/j/VUMVUW CM j/V'AJl w?v of others. Let us ask with a manly courage, can I afford to do thus and so ? Will it dignify my character to yield to this silly temptation ? Shall I gain the esteem of the truly worthy by these false shows ? Give a bold thoughtful attention to these things, and be guided by the answer; for the perfection of living is beginning to live rightly. Reasons why Cotton should not be Planted Early. In favorable localities South of this the work of pointing Cotton may have already commenced, and it was probably judicious to have done so. Our remarks do not, therefore, apply to such cases. We have been the advocates of early planting, acting upon the common supposition that what we could borrow from the spring, was to be put down as clear gain to the Cotton crop?giving the whole benefit of the season for maturing and perfecting the crop. This theory carried with it so much plausibility as to induce very little inquiry as to its soundness, and pretty much all have acted upon it without questioning its propriety. We have long done so. But we will take occasion here to say, that doubts have arisen, and the inclinations of our mind are rather against these suppositions. If the Cotton was indeed making aud maturing all the time, from its start until it was terminated by frost, then would this be sound reasoning. But is this so? Who has not remarked, in almost all seasons, suspensions in this process ? The making in mid season almost stopped, or on crops of more constant and rapid maturity, terminated long before the killing frost. These occurrences demonstrate that the whole season is not appropriated by the plant in maturing but that suspensions often occur, and that the process of making frequently terminates before the end of the season. With these facts before us, the question arises as to the necestity or the propriety of seeking to start a plant so tender and delicate as that of Cotton, before the coming i of the warm sun, so congenial to its nature, or the cessation of the cold, chilly nights, so blighting and sickening to this feeble plant. Who that has tried his hand upon a pojr, burry, longhaired stunted pig, and found how difficult has been the task to cure, by after kindness, the injury sustained by former backsets, has not arrived at the conclusion that a better hog may be made from a younger pig, placed under kind treatment and genial influences from the start ? The analog)' may not be perfect, but we think the illustration is ; and that the demonstration in the animal, is fair in its application to the vegetable kingdom. But we need not go so far, or introduce inappropriate analogies, for the solution of our problem. We may take the dwarfish, damaged shrub or tree, and let it be placed, with the same advantages, side by side with the vigorous, healthy shoot, and mark the result. The one has to repair its damages, and regain its losses, while the other moves on in vigorous, healthy growth. Thus it may be, and thus wo thing it often is, with Cotton planted before the arrival of seasons suited to start and i??? i)..r? *L:.. u ring II Oil. jjciurc tuia, I|> mny wiuc uj;, ?uu it may so far resist these unfriendly influences as to live and grow after a while,. But these hold it in check, hinder it from growing off soon, and make it a fit victim for lice, or any thing else, seeking a feeble subject upon which to prey. The suggestion which we make is, (and we will not ask for it more than a bare suggestion,) would it not be better to wait a little longer, secure a vigorous, long stemmed plant, with seasons which would move it off at once, than take the chances to have it checked and stunted at the start, to be cured and recovered from these ravages before it can be started to growing. But our plan is objected to, perhaps, because it comes in contact with the long re-established custom of delaying until after the Cotton is planted to give the Corn its first work. But why wait ? Work the Corn as soon, as it will do, and you have the time to spare. It will be much to the benefit of this crop if it could all be worked at least enough to stir and loosen the earth about the roots, before planting the Cotton. Indeed this is the very change which we propose?that the Corn shall all be sided with the plow and addressed (but not thinned) with the hoe before the Cotton is planted, it is at this point that we look for great gain in its benefits to the Corn, and in the lightening of labor, in making whole crops, and this without sacratice to the Cotton. The corn will thus be started to grow earlier, and after the Cotton is planted, and before it is up large ouough for work, the whole corn crop may be thoroughly plowed, hoed, and thinned, leaving comparatively little more to be done to that, and nearly all the after time and labor to be appropriated to the cotton crop. There is but a single objectiou (and that one is contingent,) which can apply to this plan. The stand of corn may not be obtained sumcieni eariy to receive the work which wo recommended, before planting cotton. Still we think all things considered, it is worthy of adoption, either as a whole, or in part. If the corn crop can be started, and most of the important and hard work in its culture can be done before the cotton comes in, certainly much is gained for the corn, and the labor necessary for the cotton, greatly strengthened by concentrating so large a portion of it upon this crop. Our plan in detail is this: In this latitude, that corn be planted the last of February; slightly worked by siding with the plow, and dressed but not thinned, with the hoe, the last woek in March and first week in April; after which, say from the fifth to the tenth of April, begin to plant cotton, and as that is done, ^ive the whole corn crop a thorough plowing, hoeing, and thinning. Iu three weeks or twenty-five days, let it have another plowing, and slightly hoed, if need be, for the purpose of leaving it perfectly clean, and no more work will be required on ordinary lands and favorable oeason.? The whole, or nearly all of the hoe work may be thus appropriated to the one object of cultivating of the cotton crop and the plow to be withdrawn for but a short time. Casualties may arise to thwart this plan, and as much may be said of all the best laid schemes of man. It may be objected, also, that the com crop will be disposed of too early. This, we admit may sometimes happen. When such cases arise, another slight working must be given with the plow. At the last plowing let ten or twelve quarts of peas to the acre be sowed broad-cast. But we think vorv often the final plowing rai^ht be given at the time which we have first designated, without loss in the product of this crop. After corn is waist high, and the roots spreading out across the row, if the ground is well plowed then, and the com perfectly clean it is exceedingly doubtful whether it is ever benefitted, and we are sure it is often injured by after plowing*. Soil of the South. From the Sumter Banner. To Remove Bots from Horse*. Last summer as some young china trees {Melia Azadaraeh) reared their tops above the tops of the paillings by my horse lot, I discovered too late to save the tree, that odo of ray horses was eating of it, being busily engaged in the duties of my profession, I drove the horse some ten miles that evening and was surprised to see at every evacuation from the bowels, the large number of bots, or grubs and small worms which was passed off Knowing the anthelmintic properties of the china tree, I was led to attribute the effect at once, to it, so I gathered *1, e\ /??wAn looimo r\f .*Vn no frnn on/) OVIUO VI bUC gl^cil IVU1 VO VI VUV VUII1M V?W< HMV* tried it on my other horse, and it produced the same effect; I also notice my horses improved in their appearance, <fcc. I have since tried the above, and alwavs with certain good effect. J. E. BYRD, M. D. Darlington, S. C., April 13, 1852. Premature Burial.?The Albany Register in the course of an article on this subject, relates i the following instance, of which the editor wai perfectly cognizant: Sonic years ago, we were perfectly cognizant to an occurrance of this kind, which was of the most heart-rendering character. The wife of m gentleman was taken suddenly ill in church, and was carried to her home in a state of syncope.? In a few hours she partialiy recovered, but imme | diately relapsed and never again snowed any ; signs of consciousness. She lay in this condition I nearly two days, baffling ths skill of the physi! cians, and then, as it was thought and as there ! was almost every reason to believe, died. No | signs of breathing could be detected, the limbs I becams rigid and cold and the eyes remained I open with the fixed and glassy stare of death; but : there was no change in the color of the skin.? l This was the only reason in the world for supI posing that dissolution had not taken place, j The poor bereaved husband, almost frantic at I the loss of the young and beautiful wife who he ; almost idolized, clung with desperation to the hope liuined in her face, and long resisted the unanimous decision of the physicians, that she was certainly dead. They told him, what is doubtless true, that it sometimes though very rarely, happens, that there is no discoloration for days and even weeks afrer dissolution has taken place. But still he resisted, and it was not until three days had passed without the faintest signal of change or sign of life, that he finally gave up and suffered the burial to take place.? She was eutomed in a vault. Months passed.? A cemetry having been laid out, the husband purchased and beautified a lot, erected an elegant monument in it, and when all was ready, superintended the removal of the body of his wife from the vault to its final resisting place. When the vault was opened he remembered the circumstances of death, above, detailed, and a desire suddenly seized him to once more behold the corpse. By his direction the coffin laid was removed. The spectacle which presented itself was inconceivably horrible, for it showed that she bad been buried alive. She had turned quite over upon her side, she had clutched her nails iDto the coffin until her fingers had bled, portions of her grave cloths were torn, and in her horrible struggles she had contrived to carry her hand to her head and had plucked from it a mass of hair, with portions of the cap that covered it. The poor man never recovered from the shock of that awful spectacle. He was borne away senseless, and for the rest of his weary life wm an utterly broken and miserable being. Saturday Evening.?Reader, do not let this season pass without some profitable reflections Carefully review the week, sum up the blessing* you have received from a Father, whose provident care has kept you in life, in health aDd in comfort, while others, every way your equals and perhaps your superiors, have been prematurely cut off, or snared to live in misery*? Think of this think of it with gratitude. Calmly and carefully review the transactions of the week. Have you habitually controlled your temper and your tongue 1 Have you been industrious and frugal i Have you thought of the poor and inffirm, and the extent of yourabiliwJi.ued them! Have you labored to Ity i-u ?v..v ... make home pleasant and attractive) have you acquired or imparted any useful knowledge f?. Have you answered any of the great and important ends of your existence! Look these questions in the face; answer them honestly and without evasion?and your sleep will be more quiet and your future life better than vour past. J