Newspaper Page Text
THE SOUTHERN SENTINEL
IS PUBLISHED
EVERY FRIDAY MORNING,
BY
T. LOMAX &, CO.
TENNENT LOMAX, Principal Editor.
Office on Randolph street.
Ciici'anj Department.
Conducted BY CAROLINE LEE HENTZ.
ADD RESS
BEFORE THE
Oak Bowery Agricultural Society,
BY CHARLES A. PEABODY.
[Delivered at Oak Bowery, Chambers county ,
Ala., on the 23 d June, 1852.]
Correspondence.
Oak Bowery, Ala., June 24, 1852.
Dear .Sir: The undersigned, a committee in
behalf of the Oak Bowery Agricultural Society,
in discharge of a pleasant duty, enjoined by a
resolution of said Society, respectfully request,
for publication, a copy of the very able, appro
priate and eloquent address delivered yesterday
by you at this place, in behalf of “the general
agricultural interests of the country.”
We sincerely hope that you will yield to this
request of our Society. And permit us, dear
sir, to express herewith our individual admira
tion of your address; and also assure you of
our high regard and esteem for yourself as a
gentleman and devoted friend of the enterprise
for which our association has been formed.
Respectfully, &c.,
J. C. SALE, )
S. JETER. > Committee.
G. W. CHATFIELD,)
Chas. A. Peabody, Esq.
Oak Bowery, June 25, 1852.
Messrs. J. C. Sale, S. Jeter, G. If. Chat field:
Gentlemen: Your note, asking for a copy of
the address delivered by me, before the Oak
Bowery Agricultural Society, is before me. Did
1 think the address worthy the flattering enco
miums which you are pleased to bestow upon
it, I could yield cheerfully to your request. As
it is, I am only conscious of having done my du
ty, as far as lay in my power; and whatever
merit or demerit there may be in my humble ef
fort, it is at your disposal, trusting that a gen
erous public will make all due allowance lor im
perfections.
1 am, gentlemen,
Very respectfully, yours,
C. A. PEABODY.
Address.
Mr. President, Ladies and Gentlemen :
The honor of addressing you on this, your first
anniversary, l cannot but regard asan unmerited
distinction. When I look around me, and see
the gentlemen of talent, the ornaments of all the
learned professions, and behold the bright, ex
pectant glances of your fair ladies, I feel that to
other and abler hands might have been entrust
ed this, your first address. But, Ladies and
Gentlemen, when I assure you that I bring a
heart entirely devoted to the cause of agricul
tural improvement, and a mind deeply imbued
with its great and paramount importance,
you will excuse me, I am sure, for the lack
which you will find in eloquence; and, per
chance, for a still greater lack in scholastic lore.
I do not propose to give you a lengthy disserta
tion on agricultural science; the cheap publi
cations of the day are open before you, and he
that wills, may read and learn. But I rather
propose to go with you into your plantations,
into your fruit orchards, and to accompany you,
fair ladies, through your flower yards and
kitchen gardens. I hail the formation of your
Society as one of the brightest harbingers of im
provement, in this most lovely county. Gen
tlemen planters, I assume not to teach or dictate
to you, but let us reason together. You have
established an Agricultural Society, and for
what purpose? Would you improve and enjoy
its advantages, you should hold frequent meet
ings—impart freely your knowledge; if you can
learn nothing yourselves, you may teach others
something; for, our profession,our religion, and
our common interests, teach us to hide no
light of ours under a bushel, and it is our glory
and our pride that it is so. We ask no patent
rights for knowledge, but as freely as we receive,
as freely do we impart.
“No pent up Utica contracts our powers;
The whole boundless Universe is ours.”
Tell me not that you can learn nothing from
the past. Is the experience of these silvered
heads, which I see around me,nothing? Forty!
fifty! sixty! perchance seventy summers, have
Tolled Vr some of you, and in that long expe
rience, are you not wiser, in the great art of
making human food and clothing from the ele
ments around you, than when you started?
Yes, you may say, but you learned it from long
experience, and not from societies like this, or
from books. Granted; but will you not impart
your long experience to the rising generation ?
You have toiled through many reverses, and
Song experience hath made you a Farmer. Here,
through the medium of your Society and the
jiress, may you impart that which it hath taken
-you perhaps half a century to acquire, and your
young men may start in the agricultural profes
sion where you leave off. Tell me, ye men of
years, could ye have started lite with all the
knowledge of your past experience before you,
would ye not have been wiser, richer, happier,
far, than now ? Take heed, then, how ye hide
your lights under a bushel. The days are fast
disappearing, when men shall be heard to say
they can learn nothing new in Agriculture. The
wisest and greatest men confess the infancy of
their knowledge in agricultural science; for
whether it is taught by science or by practice,
the physical world is so full of new and striking
truths, that, though we close our eyes, and pre
fer to grope in darkness, yet still the glimmer
ing rays will pierce the ‘wilfully closed lids
from the thousand flashing lights around us.
Gentlemen, yours is a noble calling. Behold!
the anxious eyes of the civilized world are
upon you; you are to feed and clothe the
millions. Have you weighed well your re
sponsibility to your God, your country, and your
selves? Are you such perfect masters of your
calling, that when the common routine of the
farm is interfered with, by a visitation of any of
file many scourges of our crops, that you can
bring the head to work as well as the hands? Are
you latniliar with theentomology of your section?
Lave you a proper knowledge of the cros§ fa
cundatiou of plants and flowers ? Do you know
YOL. 111.
the component parts of your own soils? If not,
then here are subjects for your Society. In
your deliberations and councils, discuss these
most important matters; learn from whence
come these dreaded scourges. Yes, intelligent
planters, study insects, if you would protect
your crops from the ravages of insects. Is it a
matter of little moment to you, that the flowered
winged moth flits its midnight flight over your
fairest fields of cotton, depositing its millions of
eggs to hatch out the destructive boll-worm?
The boll-worm has come, ye say, and the start
ling cry is echoed from settlement to settlement.
But who knows a preventive? Here, emphati
cally, will you find that knowledge is power,
and to no profession on earth is it a greater
power than to the agricultural. A correct
knowledge of the insect tribes around you may
shield and protect your crops from their ravages.
Your children chase in sportive glee the gaudy
butterfly, as he flits on listless wing from flow
er to flower; but do you teach them, that though
they float on wings of beauty, they lay the
foundation for the defoliation and destruction
of your brightest trees and plants, your choicest I
fruits and flowers, in the production of the loath- j
some caterpillar? You are the only practical
botanists; but do you heed its silent, beautiful !
teachings? Behold the flower, with its impreg
nating pollen! Nature is ever active in per- ;
petuating its species, but if we would improve i
upon nature we must follow up her plans.
“What have we to do with flowers?” inethinks 1
hear you say; “leave them to the women and
children.” Hold! presumptuous man, the flow
er is hut God’s beauteous harbinger of fruit, i
Through the flower the seed is impregnated, J
and through the flower you may originate new
varieties of cotton, corn, fruits, vegetable and
ornamental plants. Flowers, whether
“Wildings of nature, or cultured with care,
Yc are beautiful, beautiful, everywhere.”
We find that our Northern, French and Eng
lish neighbors are annually producing new
fruits, vegetables and flowers, by hybridization; !
upon the same principle may you improve your !
native fruits, your cotton, and your corn. You |
have all seen this pri iciple carried out in na- |
ture by the mixture of white and yellow corn,
even across large fields. This was effected
through the flower. What may you not ac
complish by a scientific knowledge of Botany ?
Your live stock are daily fed under your direc- j
tion. You know that corn, oats and fodder
sustain them, but your large stock of vegetable
productions, the cotton, corn, oats, wheat, rye,
turnips, &c., require to be fed as well as your
live stock. Have you learned their specific
food? You would not have given your horse
fresh beef, because you knew he did not need
it, either to make Lis bones, muscles, flesh, hide
or hair; but without a knowledge of the specific
food of plants, you are liable to commit as great
an error in feeding them as you would to have
given your horse the beef. And where so prop
er a place to impart and receive information up
on the specific food of plants as through your
Society? You purchase lands; what test have j
you ot their quality ? Your whole prospects in
life depend upon their productiveness; have
you no tests but your own unaided senses to de
tect and point out its fertilizers ? You may pile
as high as mountains the compost heap, and yet
spoil the whole as a fertilizer by one misplaced
ingredient. Here, then, in your councils, talk
over your compost heaps, compare your soils
and their productions, and information may be
elicited which years of patient, toiling labor
may fail to accomplish. As agriculturists, do
you so vary your productions that you are in-1
dependc.it ot New England or Kentucky? or:
do you feed your stock on Northern hav, and
your negroes on Western bacon ? The past
season has taught us lessons of wisdom in these
matters, if we will but profit by them.
When I look upon your beautiful countv, and
behold its fine grain and grass-growing qualities,
and witness its beautiful fruit and vegetable pro
ductions, I am constrained to exclaim, What a
rich heritage is yours! even without the culture
ot cotton. But when I take into consideration
your genial clime, and the fact that you may
raise every thing that can be raised at the North |
and \\ est, with the addition of the great sta- i
pie—cotton—sweet potatoes, and many fruits
that they cannot raise, I feel that you are truly
a favored people, and of all others on God’s
bounteous globe, should “greatly independent
live.”
Let me urge upon you the importance of ad
opting and adapting the improved implements of
husbandry to your culture. Os what avail is
human skill and ingenuity, if we bring it not to
bear in saving human labor ? The sub-soil plow,
the scraper, the cultivator, the roller, the seed
planter, the root puller, and many other im
proved implements, are destined to work won
ders in Southern culture. As men enquire, and
read, and think, and practice, they will con
clude that mutilated roots do not add to the
product of a crop any more than mutilated tops
and that variety of tool will be selected which
best preserves the roots and cultivates the
crop. The great objection to the adoption of
improved implements has been in the preju
dices of our servants; but this should not be
allowed to weigh a feather ; for I assert, without
fear of contradiction, that were the most im
proved implements adopted on our farms, every
tenth hand might be dispensed with, and the
work be better, cheaper, and easier done.
And what are you doing for your cattle?
Are you taking steps to improve the breeds ?
Remember that it costs no more to raise a good
animal than a poor one. The mule having so
far taken the place of the patient ox, as to al
most drive beef from our tables, I urge upon
you the propriety of using the ox for a larger
portion of the plantation work; for, after his
usefulness for labor is over, the nourishment
and sustenance which his flesh affords us, is
more than a compensation for the slowness of
his motions. But the cow—the most indispen
sable of all animals—l would plead in her be
half. Milk and butter being so essential to all
good living, and the fact that we are not able
to import our milk from abroad, it behooves you
to go to the fountain head at once, and select
the best breeds for milkers—and when obtained,
to so feed them as if you expected them to
feed you.
The root crops are entirely too much ne
glected here; the sweet potato, carrot, parsnip,
®JC tjoutljcvn Sentinel.
mangel-wurzel, rutabaga and common turnip,
are raised easier here than in any other country
under the heavens; they require no housing,
(except the sweet potato.) and are easily turned
into milk and butter, through the laboratory of
the cow. Your natural pastures are good,
and no country can surpass your artificial gra
zing or green soiling, and why shall not your
milk and butter be as rich and abundant as in
any other section of the country? Ask your
selves this question, gentlemen, and resolve, in
your intercourse with each other, to discuss the
matter until you hare learned the why and
wherefore, and Chambers county milk and but
ter will be as celebrated as that of Orange county,
New York. But, gentlemen, you who till the soil,
and live by its tillage, I would not have you, in
the weightier concerns of the farm, neglect the
thousand luxuries, beauties and comforts of
horticulture. Yours is beyond question a fruit
growing country ; here may you have the melting
pear, the juicy apple, the luscious peach, the
blushing nectarine, the acid quince, the sugary
fig, the perfumed grape, the musky raspberry,
and the fragrant, delicious strawberry, all grow
ing in the open air, and challenging the wide
world for superiority. I could tell you some
thing of my own fruit culture, but you might
deem me visionarj, as our Northern horticul
tural brethren do; but well attested facts speak
louder than visions—and you may form some
idea of my success in strawberry culture,
when I inform you that I have a constant
succession of fruit from March until Septem
ber, and that in the month of May, I sold in
the Columbus market five hundred dollars’
worth of this delicious fruit, and mv beds are
still in full fruit and bloom. What I have done
in fruit culture you may do; for I have hid
no light of mine under a bushel.
And, ladies! what are you doing in the kitch
en garden? Have you discarded the long blue
collard, and placed the hard-head cabbage
there? Have you the Irish potato in all its fa
rinaceous perfection? Have you the aromatic
celery, with its brittle, crisp stalk? Do you
have a constant succession of snaps, peas, okra,
tomatoes, &c., until frost? If you have not,
then you mav look to this Society to bring all
this about; for I take it you are banded to
gether for improvement, and if you originate
no new vegetable productions, you will at least
improve upon the old ones. And I would urge
one more important matter for your considera
tion : That you sustain the agricultural press.
Its influence and usefulness is daily increasing,
and those who affect to despise its counsels,
are imperceptibly adopting its teachings; its
patrons are among the great and good of every
land. The true statesman appreciates its utili
ty, for it enhances national wealth and pros
perity, and raises individual independence. En
courage it, then, as you would sustain your
own best interests; write for it, as the sure
means of spreading light. The agricultural
press is to the public, what your Society should
be to each other—a mirror held up to nature,
reflecting practical men’s minds.
I might have gone more into detail, in this
short address, on the culture of crops, specific
manures, draining, sub-soil plowing, &c.; but
gentlemen, 1 refer you to the agricultural pa
pers of the day; they are published so cheaply
as to be within the reach of all, and contain all
that is useful in scientific and practical agri
culture. To the law-makers of the land, I
would appeal, and to the farmers that make
the law-makers, I would appeal still stronger,
why is it that every interest but the agricultural
is fostered and protected? Why is it that ag
ricultural education is so grossly neglected.?
Were our youth early imbued with the sci
entific principles of agriculture, the bosom of
our mother earth would freely yield her treas
ures, when in after life they might either from
necessity or choice seek a living there. But
no; the science of sustaining human life is.
nothing to our legislators. Party ! with its hy
dra head, reigns in its legislative halls supreme >
and the farmer educates his sons for what
they are not to be—content himself to plod on
in the dark obscurity, making substances for
bartering merchant princes to reap the real
profits from his sweating toil. The moment his
productions are made, they assume an im
portance not before given to them even by
himself, for they are merchandise then. And
the silent weaving web of nature, when she
formed the air, the earth and the wa'er around
us, those useful and necessary fabrics, that
nourishing and life-sustaining food, is left un
cared for, neglected and forgotten, in the glory
of the merchant’s counting room, his exchanges
and his profits. Farmers, should this be so ?
Demand of your lawgivers, agricultural in*
| struction for the masses; elevate and place
j your calling on a footing with the highest
| sciences; educate your children for what they
are to be—and when blight, rust, mildew or in
sects assail their crops, instead of calmly looking
on and talking about bad luck, they wiilgo man
fully to work by the light of science, and coun
teract the evils. What a mistaken notion has
pervaded the public mind that the farmer needs
ino education! Why, gentlemen, the Southern
farmer should be the most intelligent man on
earth. In his charge are servants subject to
the like passions and diseases as himself; he
should understand all the laws of health. He
should be a physiologist as well as a botanist.
Who, so much interested in the changing weath
er? He should be familiar with the motions
of the earth; he should be a living ba r oineter!
Who so much interested in the crust of the
earth? He should be a practical chemist, ge
ologist and mineralogist! Who so much inter
ested in the laws of trade? He should be well
skilled in all the laws of barter, exchange and
commerce. In short, the perfect farmer should be
a Christian, a gentleman, a philosopher and a
statesman.
Reverend Clergy! to your fostering care I
commend the agricultural improvement of the
age; with its improvement society has improved.
, The refinements and sociabilities of life, go with
! improved agriculture; with refinement and sus
ceptibility, morality; with morality, pure religion.
, Foster it, then, reverend gentlemen, that it
may lead to temporal prosperity and happiness;
and through its sublime and beautiful teachings,
to eternal bliss.
And finally, ladies and gentlemen! let me im
press upon you the importance of beautifying
COLUMBUS, GEORGIA, FRIDAY MORNING, JULY 30, 1852.
and adorning the homestead. The happy in
fluences it may have on your posterity can
hardly be calculated. When you build, build as
if you expected to make your house your
own and your children’s home, and not a tene
ment for strangers. Save and protect the na
tive trees around the homestead. The marks
of circling years on those venerable trunks,
speak of centuries which you can never see;
under their broad-spreading branches may you
enjoy the cool breezes of heaven; and whilst
every thing else around you is modern and
new, they connect with the shadowy past—they
speak of other days. Embellish your grounds
with fruits and flowers. Secure pure and
wholesome water. And now, fair daughters
of Chambers, is your time to step in to give
color, substance and beauty, not only to your
homesteads, but to yourselves and your chil
dren. Mothers, let me beg of you, as you
would serve the State in building up a bulwark
of morality around her borders, and in increas
ing the usefulness, happiness, and prosperity of
your loved ones, to instill deeply into your chil
dren’s minds the principles of beauty. Teach
them early the love and culture of flowers. That
early love will prove an oasis in the great desert
of life—never, never to be forgotten ; but will
throw a halo over the homestead around which
shall cling all the fond memories of youth and
maturer age. Yes, ladies, this is your part, and
I believe you will faithfully carry it out; for
woman and beauty, truth and love, are synony
mous terms. You need not go to Indian Isles
for flowers of beauty; your own mountains and
valleys teem with floral gems. Gather these
and place them in your own parterres. Let the
trees’ dark waving foliage shield and protect
your porticos from the glaring sunbeams; give
the trellis a graceful trailing vine ; and that
home shall be a home of hearts, cemented by
the pure and beautiful. Then, indeed, will your
household realize the poet’s vision, that
“Fancy may charm, and feelings bless,
With sweeter hours than fashion knows;
There is no calmer quietness,
Than home around the bosom throws.”
Ladies and gentlemen! this is no fancy
sketch. Show me the habitations of men, and 1
will tell you of their intelligence, happiness and
virtue. For, say what you will, the human
heart, when actuated by virtuous principle,
craves beauty. God has developed it in every
thing around us. It floats on the fleecy cloud.
It rides on the raging storm. It flashes in the
burning sun-light. It beams in the arching rain
bow. It smiles through the humblest flower.
And our first parents, when driven by the Arch
angel from Eden, lingered “with wandering
steps and slow,” to catch one last long look of
her beautiful bowers. And thus should it be
with you; your home should be your Eden,
never abandoned until driven out by the angel
of misfortune; and even then, like your great
progenitors, its early memories will mark the
greenest spot in the pilgrimage of life. Farm
ers! improve and embellish your homesteads.
It will prove the nucleus around which every
improvement of the farm will cluster; and
may the smiles of Heaven rest upon your
efforts, is my humble prayer.
(Ditv Contributors.
[WRITTEN for the sentinel.]
LETTER FROM MRS. PARTINGTON.
Auburn, July 6, 1852.
Dear Mr. Editor : At Inst the diffus
ing racket of the Fourth has seized, and I
can half way collect my thoughts. I believe
I told you that I found my nephew, Dick, at
the hotel. He has a married sister who has
presided a long time in New York, so I re
lied upon her to show me the city. The
morning after I got there, we went out to do
some shopping in Wideway. I never in my
life see such lots of omelets and stages as
they have here. And the queerest tiling was,
that whenever I looked at any of the drivers
they’d wink at me so knowingly. I reckon
ed I must have seem ’em somewhere, so I’d
bow as polite as you please. Then they’d
drive to the side-walk, stop, but never say a
word. I wouldn’t know what to make of it,
so I walked on. Every driver we met, as soon
as he caught my eye, would wink and hold
up his hand ; I couldn’t look at one without
his bowing, or making some sign at me. At
first I held my temper pretty well, but at last
my spunk began to rise, and I concluded I
wouldn’t be made fun of no longer. “The
very next driver that dares wink at me again,
I’ll have Dick horsewhip,” said I to my niece,
Jane. “Why,” sez she, “never mind that,
Aunt Sally, they do so to every one; it’s on
ly to find out if we want to ride.” And so it
was; but they’re the only men I ever saw
before who couldn’t bear to be looked at.
“Well,” sez Jane, “I guess (she’s a Yankee)
as you’ve never been here, you’d like to see
the lions ?” “Yes,” sez I, “If they got strong
chains on.” So said she, “there is one of
them. This is Stewart’s.” I looked round
quick and saw a big store house, but couldn’t
see no lion. Jane laughed, and told me they
called every thing new or queer here, a lion.
I reckon they’d better sometimes call ’em
apes and donkeys, for they would be appro
priate names. That night we went to see
the Roosay’s dance, and, pine-logs and gin
gerbread ! I never want to see any one dance
the New York fashions agin. There was a
lot of pretty girls, without any pantalets or
stockings on, and with frocks so short one
didn’t know whether to call ’em roundabouts
or jackets. Then, the principal pint seemed
to he to throw away their feet—show their
petticoats—and put their back-bones out of
jint. They’d whirl round like a frog in a fry
ing pan, and one couldn’t have told their hands
and feet apart, except their feet were higher
than their hands could ever get. And then to
see how the poor things would retort their
faces! They looked like so many sea-sick hy
enas, The next night we went to the Jtalyan
Oppery. “Oh,” said two or three ladies, “you
will be de lighted ! The rnoosic is hea
ven ly ! Scenoray Veelettyisdi vine!”
By the way, what makes the ladies here talk so
funny? I reckon they all have diseases of
the palate, or some other impediment in their
speeches. Sure enough we went, and if it
didn’t equal any nigger corn-shucking, then
I don’t know bricks when I see ’em. First,
there was a row of fellers with old broken
tongs, worn out banjos, and all sorts of fid
dles witli horns; they was one half of the Op
pery, and they hlowed and puffed, and made
such an all-fired noise, that it sounded for all
the world, like a pack of the Kanign race
with the cholera infantum. Then a woman
they called Scenoray Veeletty, sidled-out on
the ends of her toes, and commenced holler
in’ about a young man, who wore a hat
like a bushel basket with two pounds of
feathers stuck in it, and a long carving knife
in a tin case hanging by his side. As soon
as she got through, the young man hollered
a little while, then three or four more, who
had been standing behind some trees, dandled
out on their toes and they all fell to hollerin’
and makin’ faces at each other, like so many
mad catamounts. The worst of it was, that
they talked in Injun all the while, so 1
couldn’t understand a word they said. Then
to see the way the people looked at each oth
er there! At first I almost screamed out,
for 1 thought the}’ were gwine to shoot some
body, hut they was only lookin’ through some
little black cannons called Oppery glasses.
The ladies will sit with a dozen folk staring
at’em and never blush once; they seem to
like it mighty well, and the one that has most
of them little guns pinted at her is the best
feller. I can tell ’em, gentlemen had better
not gape so at Georgia girls, if they don’t
want a bullet or two to help their digestion.
Well, so much for the Italyan Oppery ; and
I’m sure I never want to pretend another.
It’s mighty hot here now, but they tell me
that in winter the quicksilver often runs from
nezo down to nimrod on the diameter, and
sometimes it’s so cold that they don’t have
no atmosphere at all. I shall be obliged to
write short letters and skip over a smart
chance of the interestin’ parts, on account of
my aquatic habits, as I hardly ever stay
mor’n one day in a place.
Yours, till election, as the candidate said
to the voters.
SALLY PARTINGTON.
P. S.— Part Second. —l’m sufferin’ a lit
tle now from a slight pneumatic attack, hut
hope soon to be entire!}’ adolescent.
S. P.
[written for tiie sentinel.]
DIOGENES AND THE SLAVE.
[French Translation from the Original.]
Diogenes, for many days, went up and
down the city of Athens, with his lantern
lighted, even at noon-day, looking for—a
Man.
Passing by the Temple of Charity, he saw
a Priest, lounging about the portal, and he
cried, “Your Reverence, give me an alms, if
hut a farthing, for pity’s sake, to solace my
failing age.”
“Let my blessing suffice thee, oh! my son,’’
said the man of God, and straightway he en
tered into the Temple of Charity.
The philosopher stopped before a shop or
namented with garlands, and splendid fans,
and roses of perfume, and many fine things.
A beautiful lady was there a-shopping.
“You are spending money upon your plea
sures, madam,” said he ; “will you not have
compassion upon a wretch, tormented with
hunger ?”
“Truly,” said the fine lady, “I pity your
misery, my friend; here, go buy you some
barley bread.” She threw him a farthing, and
gayly chatting with the merchant, she gave
twelve pieces of silver for a collar for her
pet pug-dog. (Query: Did they have pugs
in Athens ?)
The Cynic marched off, scratching his ear.
The Prince of Salamis passed by, in a mag
nificent chariot. Diogenes ran and hooked
himself on to the gilded door.
“Stop, son of the Gods; hear me.”
“Get out of that, you rascal,” cried the
Prince, “or else I’ll be the death of you.”
One of the Slaves, who saw him, pulled
the old man away from the door of the chari
ot, and at the same time thrust two pieces of
money into his cap.
“Ye Gods,” cried the sage, “at last I have
found a Man, and that man is—a Slave,” he
said, and put out his lantern !
[WRITTEN FOR TIIE SENTINEL.]
TIIE FAIRY AND TIIE SUN-FLOWER.
The morn was bright and clear; the dew
hung in transparent drops from the tapering
leaves of the soft green grass; the birds
flew from spray to spray, warbling their
morning song of thanks to the greater Giver
of all good, when Lulia, Queen of the Fairies,
came to pay her usual visit to the first flowers
of spring, her chosen favorites.
From one to another she lightly skipped—
now stooping to kiss some newly blown rose
bud—now gently brushing the diamond-like
dew drops from the snowy petals of a lily
with her azure tipped wings, but having flat
tering words or soft caresses for all, as
they bent their heads to her as she passed.
All rendered her this grateful homage but the
golden Helanthus, (or Sun-flower.) Its pet
als were bent in adoration to the rising Sun,
the God of the morning; and Lulia saw with
sorrow that the bright drops falling from its
jewelled cup were offered to other than her
self.
“Why,” said she, “offerest thou thy tri
butes to other than I ? Do I not visit thee
each morning with words sweet as the mock
bird’s song ? with caresses soft as a zephyr’s
breath? Speak, thankless flower! why are
thy offerings made to other than Lulia ?”
“I deserve not your censure,” meekly re
plied the flower ; “though I am indeed grate
ful for your kindness, there is one to whom I
owe more. See ye yon Sun ? to him am I
indebted for the opening of my buds, the ma
turity of my seeds—if it were not for him,
my children would wither and die before
they had unfolded their tender petals to the
light. Oh! lady, I should be truly ungrate
ful if my homage were rendered to another;”
and the mere thoughts of such ingratitude
caused the flower to bend its beautiful head,
and the earth was bedewed with its pearly
tears. As the flower continued, Lulia’scoun
tenance grew darker. “Oh! sisters,” re
sumed the Sun-flower, “learn to whom ye
should be most truly thankful. Learn to dis
tinguish between the actual worth of real
benefits and empty words, that, though they
flatter our vanity, are of no essential good.
Learn to give honor to him to whom it is
due, and not to those who have no just or
rightful claim.”
As soon as our friend, the Sun-flower, had
delivered this lecture to her erring sisters,
Lulia spread her wings with a drooping, sor
rowful air; “for,” thought she, “I have in
deed been wrong in demanding thanks and
gratitude from those to whom I had done
nothing to deserve it. I have received a use
ful, though bitter lesson, from a simple
flower.” LOUISE.
OLD MOSES.
Mr. B. was a merchant in Baltimore, and
did a very heavy business, especially in grain.
One morning, as he was passing over the
vessels that lay at the wharf, with their vari
ous commodities for sale, he stepped upon
the deck of one, at the stern of which he
saw a negro man sitting, whose dejected
countenance gave sure indication of distress ;
and he accosted him with—
“ Hey! my man, what is the matter with
you this morning?”
The negro lifted his eyes, and looking at
Mr. 15., replied—
“Ah, massa, I’se in great trouble.”
“What about?”
“Kase I’se fotched up here to be sold.”
“What for? What have you been doing?
Have you been stealing? Or did you run
away? or what?”
“No, no, massa, none o’ dat; it’s because 1
didn’t mind de orders.”
“What kind of orders?”
“Well, massa stranger, I tell you. Massa
William werry strick man, and werry nice
man, too, an’ ebry body on de place got to
mine him; an’l break through de rule; but
I didn’t tend to break de rule, doe; I forgot
mysef, an’ I got too high.”
“It is for getting drunk, then, is it?”
“O no, sah, not dat, nother.”
“You are the strangest negro I have seen
for a week. If you would not like to be
pitched overboard, you had better tell me
what you did.”
“Please, massa, don’t frovv de pooe flicted
nigger in de wata.”
“Then tell me what you are to be sold
for.”
“For pray in’, sah.”
“For praying ? That is a strange tale,
indeed. Will your master not permit you to
pray ?”
“0 yes, sah, he let me pray easy ; but I
hollers too loud.”
“And why did you hallo so in your
prayer c
“Kase, de Sperit comes on me, an I gets
happy fore I knows it, den; den I gone;
can’t trol mysef den; den l knows nuflin
bout massa’s rule; den I holler if ole Satan
hisses comes, wid all de rules ob the ’quisi
tion.”
“And do you suppose your master will
really sell you for that?”
“O yes ; no help for me now ; all de men
in de world couldn’t help me now; kase
when Massa Willum say one thing, he no
do anoder.”
“What is your name?”
“Moses, sah.”
“What is 3’our master’s name ?”
“Massa name Coloner Willum C .”
“Where does he live?”
“Down on de Eas’rn Shoah.”
“Is he a good master ? Does he treat you
well ?”
“O ves; mass Willum good; no better
massa in de world.”
“Stand up and let me look at you.”
Moses stood up and presented a robust
frame; and as Mr. B. stripped up his sleeve
his arm gave evidence of unusual muscular
strength.’
“Where is jrnur master ?”
“Yander he is, jis comin to dewars.”
As Mr. B. started for the shore, he heard
Moses give a heavy sigh, followed by a deep
groan. Moses was not at all pleased with
the present phase of affairs. He was strong
ly impressed with the idea that B. was a trad
er, and intended to buy him, and it was this
that made him so unwilling to communicate
to Mr. B. the desired information. Mr. B.
reached the wharf just as Col. C. did. He
introduced himself, and said—
“l understand you wish to sell that negro
man vonde r on board the schooner.”
Col. C. replied that he did.
“What do you ask for him?”
“I expect to get seven hundred dollars.”
“How old is he ?”
“About thirty-five.”
“Is he healthy ?”
“Very; he never had any sickness in his
life, except one or two spells of the ague.”
“Is he hearty ?”
“Yes, sir; he will eat as much as any man
ought and it will do him as much good.”
“Is he a good hand ?”
“Yes, sir; he is the best hand on my
place. He is steady, honest and industrious.
He has been my foreman for the last ten
years, and a more trusty negro I never
knew.”
“Why do you wish to sell him ?”
Because he disobeyed my orders. As I
said, he is my foreman, and that he might be
available at any moment I might want him/
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NO. 31.
I built his quarter within a hundred yards of
my own house; and 1 have never rung the
bell at any time in the night or morning, that
his horn did not answer in five minutes after.
But two years ago he got religion, and com
menced what he called family prayer—that
is. prayer in his quarter, every night and
morning; and when he began his prayer, it
was impossible to tell when ho would stop,
especially if (as he termed it) he got happy.
Then he would sing and pray and halloo for
an hour or two together, that you might hear
him a mile off. And he would pray for me
and my wife and children, and all my broth
ers and their children, and our whole family
connection to the third generation; and
sometimes when we would have visitors, Mo
ses’s prayers would interrupt the conversa
tion, and destroy the enjoyment of the
whole company. The women would cry,
and the children would set me almost fran
tic ; and even after I had retired, it would
sometimes be nearly daylight before I could
go to sleep; for it apeared to me that I could
hear Moses pray for three hours after he had
finished. 1 bore it as long as I could, and
then forbid his praying so loud any more.
Moses promised obedience, but he soon trans
gressed ; and my rule is never to whip, but
whenever a negro proves incorrigible I sell
him. This keeps them in better subjection,
and is less trouble than whipping. I par
doned Moses twice for disobedience, in
praying so loud, but the third time, 1 knew
I must sell him, or every negro on the farm
would be perfectly regardless of all my or
ders.”
“You spoke of Moses’s quarters; I sup
pose from that he has a family.”
“Yes he has a woman and three children
—or wife, I suppose lie calls her now, for
soon after he got religion, he asked mo it
they might be married, and I suppose they
were.”
“What will you take for her and the
children ?”
“If you want them for your own use, I
will take seven hundred dollars; but I shall
not sell Moses nor them to go out of tho
State.”
“I wish them for my own use, and will
give you the fourteen hundred dollars.”
Mr. B. and Col. C. went to B.’s store,
drew up the writings and closed the sale ;
after which, they returned to the vessel, and
Mr. 8., approaching the negro, who sat with
his eyes fixed upon the deck, seemingly
wrapped in meditation of most awful fore
bodings, said—
“ Well, Moses, I have bought you.”
Moses made a very low bow, and every
muscle of bis face worked with emotion as
he replied—
“ls you, massa ? Where is Igwine, massa ?
Is I gwiue to Georgy?”
“No,” said Mr. B. “I am a merchant here in
the city; yonder is my store. I want you to
attend on the stole; and have purchased your
wife and children too, that you may not be
separated.”
“Bi •ess God for dat! An’, massa, can Igo
to meetin’ sometimes?”
“Yes, Moses, you can go to church three
times on Sabbath, and every night in the
week: and you can pray as often as you
choose, and as loud as you choose, and get
as happy as you choose; and every time you
pray, whether, it be at home or in church, I
want you to pray for me, my wife, and all
my children, and single-handed, too; for if
you are a good man, your prayers will do us
no harm, and we need them very much; and
if you wish to, you may pray for everybody
of the name of B. in the State of Maryland.
It will not injure them.”
While Mr. B. was dealing out these priv
ileges to Moses, the negre’s eyes danced in
their sockets, his full heart laughed right out
for gladness, exposing two rows of even
clean ivories as any African can boast, and
his heart’s response was, “Bress God, bress
God, all de time, and bress you too, massa!
Moses neber tiuks about he gwine to have
all dese ’commodationers; dis make me tink
’bout Joseph in de Egypt.” And after Moses
had poured a few blessings on Colonel C.,
and bidding him a warm adieu, and request
ing him to give his love ar.d farewell to his
mistress, the children and all the servants, ho
followed B. to the stare, to enter upon tho
functions of his new office.
The return of the schooner brought to
Moses his wife and children.
Early next spring, as Mr. B. was one day
standing at the store door, he saw a man leap
upon the wharf from the deck of a vessel, }
and walk hurriedly towards the store He ;
soon recognized him as Colonel C. They®
exchanged salutations, and to the Colonel’s
inquiry after .Moses, Mr. B. replied that he
was up stairs measuring grain, and invited
him to walk up and see him. Soon Mr. B.’s
attention was arrested by a very confused
noise above. He listened, and heard an un
usual shuffling of feet, someone sobbing vio
lently, and someone talking very hurriedly ;
and when he reflected upon Col. C.’s singular
movement and the peculiar expression of his
countenance, he became alarmed, and deter
mined to go up and see what was transpiring.
When he reached the head of the stair, he
was startled by seeing Moses in the middle of
the floor, down upon one knee, with his arin.|?
around the Colonel’s waist, and talking most
rapidly, while the Colonel stood weeping aud
ibly. So soon as the Colonel could suffi
ciently control his feelings, he told Mr. B. 1
that he had never been able to free himself*
from the influence of Moses’s prayers, and
that daring the last year he and his wife and
all his children had been converted to God. 1
Moses responded : “Bress God, Massa C , i
doe I way up hea, l neber forg-1 you in my
prayers ; I oilers put de ole massa side do
new one. Bress God! dis make Moses tink
’bout Joseph in de Egypt agio.”
The Colonel then stated to Mr. B. that his
object in coming to Baltimore was to buy
Moses and bis family back again. But Mr.
B. assured him that was out of the question,
for he could not part with him; and he inten
ded to manumit Moses and his wife at forty,
and his children at thirty-five years of age.
Moses was not far wrong in his reference
to Joseph. For when Joseph was sold into
Egypt, God overruled it to his good, and he
obtained blessings that were far beyond his
expectations ; so with Moses. Joseph event
ually proved the instrument of saving the
lives of those who sold him.
Old Moses is still living, and doing well. |
He long since obtained his freedom, and at#
present occupies a comfortable house of h:%..
own; and I suppose sings and prays and shouts
to his heart *s content. —Mthodisl Prole stunt.