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Vol. II No. 19.]
2THc gEashCiifltonfan-
WILL BE PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY
HORNING, BY
JAMES McCAFFERTV,
At the low price of one dollar per annum, for
a single subscriber, five dollars for a club of j
I six, or ten dollars for a club of tweivc sub-,
scribcrs — payment , in advance.
All Communications, by mail, addressed to the;
publisher, must be post paid to receive atten- j
tion. By the rules of the Post-Office Depart- 1
ment, Post-masters may frank subscription,
money for Newspapers.
Advertisements will be inserted at the follow
ing reduced rates:—For one square, not ex
ceeding twelve lines, 50 cents for the first
insertion, and twenty-five cents for each con
tinuance, if published weekly ; if semi-monthly
3“i; and if monthly 43| cents, for each con
tinuance.
Yearly advertisers 10 per ct. discount.
AOSIICSiILTO®!.
To have good Crops.
Farmers are apt to place too much tie-;
pentlence upon manure, supposing that |
if they apply that in sufficient quantity,
nothing else is required of them. This
error is not of course, of equally evil ten
dency to that of using no manure at all;
hut I was almost ready to say it was not
very much less so. If the soil be not
properly prepared for its reception, and
if the manure be not properly made, -pre
served, and applied, it will matter little;
whether the *• manure heap” resembles a
mountain or a mole-hill. But it cannot 1
be expected that the minute details of all i
the practice involved in all this, can be;
given in the space afforded by any peri-:
odical. One great point is to cultivate
no more land than you can cultivate well,
both as to labor and manure. If you
have more land and less money and la
bour, than you can use with full effect,
turn a portion of the land into money by
selling it, and apply the proceeds to the
improvement of that retained. Thus re-j
ducc the size of your farm to the capacity
of your efficient forces, —labour and mon
ey,—instead of trying to extend your;
stinted forces over too wide a surface, andj
thus weakening them and destroying their
efficiency. The second principle is, to
put your soil into good condition, by H
tiling, deep ploughing, manuring, and
correcting its proportions of clay and
sand when practicable. All land, in my
opinion, will be greatly benfifitted by the
application oflime. Some requires more,
some less, to produce the same results,
but all lands require it as a constituent of
the soil. You will find lime most active
on red lands, but it is useful on all kinds.
Deep ploughing is in my opinion, essen
tial to successful farming. If you have a
thin soil, by deep ploughing, liming and
manuring, you will in a very few years,
secure a deep soil. Even though you do
turn up a portion of blue clay with your
four horse plough, don’t be frightened at
the sight of it. It is better to have blue
clay mixed in a deep soil, than a hard;
pan of it under athinone. But if you i
find too much clay thus turned up, correct
its stiffness by carting sand upon it, and'
mixing it with the clay. A cart load of
sand is often of more value to a soil than
the same quantity of manure. Reverse
the process, if any portion of the land be
too sandy—carry clay to it, and thus stif
fen it.
The advantage of deep ploughing is al
ways most incalculable. It will ulti
mately make a deep soil, and a deep soil
is essential to a good crop in a dry sea
son. The roots of the plants strike deep- i
ly into it, instead of spreading out hori- s
zontally near the surface, as they arc
compelled to do in a thin soil, and areji
thus secured from the effects of drought.
The rain sinks into a deep soil, and is i
thus preserved to the uses of the crop ; i
while in a thin soil, it runs off, is soon i
evaporated, or stands on the surface, do- <
ing little good in the former cases, and .
absolute injury in the latter. I should ;
not only plough deep, but I should follow i
in the furrow of the four horse plough, i
with a good substratum plough, and this i
with the liming judicious manuring, and s
proper rotation, I should calculate upon 1
as my security for a good crop, always, t
I believe this practice to be not only the ;
best preventive of winter-killing and (
injury from drought, but also of injury t
from the fly. By this practice you sc-'
AUGUSTA, GA. SATURDAY, OCTOBER 14, 1843.
cure a robust constitution to the plant, ! l
and, of consequence, thus enable it toll
withstand, without harm, the pressure I
upon the sap vessels occasioned by the i
flaxseed pupa of the fly, as it becomes i
embedded in its surface. In illustration ’
iof the good effects of deep ploughing, I -
! will refer to the practice of garden cul- i
fare. Who ever doubted that deep spa- ;
iding—even two or three spits dec]) —was I
'not only useful, but necessary to success? ii
j And in what does a garden differ from a;'
farm ? In size,—nothing else.— Far-,
mer's Cabinet.
The Wild Cherry.
Messrs. Editors: It is known that the
leaves of the wild cherry, if eaten hy cat
tle, when they are just wilted by the sun,
will kill them; whereas, when they are
jgreen, and also after they are dried,
■ they are not at all hurtful to cattle.—
jCan you give us the reason why, just at
ithe wilt of the leaf, they are poisonous ?|
L. Durand.
The poisonous qualities of the cherry
are owing to the prussic acid they con-;
tain, and of the various kinds of cherry,
the Laurel or Bird cherry is the most dan
gerous. It was from the leaves of this
tree that the poison was formerly obtain
ed. While the leaves are fresh, the poi
jsonisso diluted with the juices, that it
; loses most of its energy, and besides, ani
,; mals cannot eat the same quantity of
; fresh leaves that they will of wilted ones.
. The consequence is, they obtain from the
: wilted leaves a much larger quantity of
poison; and that in an undiluted state.
: In drying the leaves thoroughly, (he poi-
I son is lest with the other juices ; for of all
poisons, prussic acid is the most difficult
:| to confine or retain in purity. The mi-
Jmcrous instances of the death of animals
from eating wilted cherry leaves, should
j render farmers cautious how they allow
'cattle to have access to them in that state,
|or indeed to any extent in any other.
Mad Itch.
This is the name given in the Western
States, where it most prevails, to a disease
of cattle, commencing with apparently
; spasmodic motions or jerkings of the head,
jand itching around the nose and base of
| the horns. « They will lick their sides and
jback, rub their heads, and the jerk or hic
cup inflates them with wind almost to
bursting. This symptom is not, however,
(always present. As the itching increases,
the animal rubfe more furiously, froths at
the mouth, and finally, from twelve to 24
hours, dies raving mad. Mr. Simms, of
Indiana, after losing several of his cows
by this disease, succeeded in curing the
remainder by the following treatment.
As soon as the animal was attacked, he
gave it as much soot and salt as it would
eat.—ln a few hours lie gave from three
fourths of a pound to a pound of pounded
brimstone or sulphur, and in the morning
as many salts. It is the opinion of Mr.
S., that sulphur alone would effect a cure,
though he accompanied its action with
salts. The cause of this formidable com
plaint, like that of milk sickness, in the
same region, is unknown. — Cultivator.
Setting Gate Posts.
An experienced carpenter, w ho has put
up a great deal of fencing in his time,
dells us, that he has found great advan
tage from reversing the posts, or setting
them butt end upwards.—He asserts that
;this simple arrangement will cause them
to last doubly as long, and accounts for it
by supposing that the pores of the wood
are more closed and better protected from
the moisture of the atmosphere, when
their natural position is reversed.
[Southern Planter.
Time for Cutting Timber.
Many persons finding that timber cut
in the spring is not durable, have been ;
careful to cut at a season as far from that ;
as possible, and acting on this principle, i
the fall or first of the winter has been fix- I
jed upon as a good time for this purpose. <
But so far as experiments have been ;
made, they generally show that June is I
the best time for cutting timber, provided <
the bark be taken off, and this can be j
done conveniently at this season. In |
June the sap is passing into the leaves, <
and after becoming elaborated into suit
able juice for the forming of wood it is
returning and forming a new layer of f
wood between the wood and bark. This r
sap causes a rapid decay of wood if the t
bark remain on, but when the bark is t
taken off the wood seasons very fast, and i
as the sap has been constantly passing in- r
to the leaves, there will be but little in f:
the wood to cause it to decay. a
A “Jack at all trades” who had used c
timber for more than twenty years, for va-j:
rious purposes, which had been cut at dif
ferent seasons, remarked that timber cut
in Junewas harder, heavier, and more du
rable than that cut at any other season.
When the tree is in its greatest vigor the
sap is thin and rapidly passing thro’ the
wood. But in the winter and spring, the
sap contained in the tree is thick, having
been prepared the previous year and re
served to commence the new growth.
This thick sap will not so readily escape,
!but remains stagnant in the timber and
becomes the principle of its destruction.
A gentleman who has been consider
ably engaged in ship building informed
us that he had used in the same vessel,
timber cut at different seasons, and that
cut in June was the most durable. Nu
■ merous experiments in cutting timber for
|ships and other purposes show the same
j results.— Boston Cultivator.
■ MI§iQIEII.ILJ\IMIE®ig7~
Independence of tlic Farmer.
Os all the conditions of men, and 1
have mingled with every variety, I be
lieve in truth that none is so independent
as that of an industrious, frugal, and so
ber farmer; none affords more the means
of contentment and substantial enjoy
ment; none, where the education has not
been neglected, presents better opportu
nities for moral and intellectual improve
■ meni, none calls more loudly for religious
gratitude; none is suited to give a more
lively and deeper impression of the good
■ ness of God. Some years since in the
1 most rugged parts of New Hampshire,
among its craggy cliffs and rude and bold
mountains, I was travelling on horseback,
i and came suddenly upon a plain and
moss-covcrcd cottage in the very bosom
of a valley, where the luave settler had
i ' (anted himselfon a few acres of land
which alone seemed capable of cultiva
tion. Everything about the residence
bespoke industry and care. Being fa
tigued, I stopped so ask refreshments for
.my horse. A hale young girl of about
15, bareheaded and barefooted, but per
’ fectlv modest and courteous, with all the
ruddiness of Hebe, and all the nimble
ness and vigor of Diana, went immedi
ately for an arm full of hay and a mea
sure of oats for my horse; and then kind
ly spread a table with a cloth as white as
; the snow-drift, aa«l a bowl of pure milk
and brown breadlfor his rider. I never
• enjoyed a meal more. I offered the fam
ily pay for their'hospitality; but they
steadily refused saying that I was wel
come. I was no\ willing thus to tax
their kindness, and\therefore took out a
piece of money to\give to one of the
children that stood : near. “No,” said
the parents, “he mibt not take it; we
have no use for money.” “Heaven be
praised,” said I, “that I have found a
people without avarice. I will not cor
rupt you;” and giving them a hearty
thank-offering, wished them God’s bless
ing, and took my leave. Now here were
these humble people) with a home which,
if it were burned down to-day, their
neighbors would rebuild for them to-mor
row—with clothing made from their own
flocks by their own hands; with bread
enough, and beef, pork, butter cheese,
milk, poultry,eggs, eke., in abundance;
a good school of six months in the year,
where their children probably learned
more, because they knew the value of
time, than those who were driven to
school every day in the week and every
week in the year; with a plain religious
meeting on Sunday, where, without os
tentation or parade, they meet their
neighbors to exchange friendly saluta
tions, to hear words of good moral coun
sel, and to worship God in the most sim
ple but not the less acceptable form; and,
above ail, here were hearts at peace with
the world and with each other, full of
hospitality to the passing stranger, un
cankcred by avarice, and undisturbed by
ambition. Where upon earth, in a hum
ble condition, or in any condition,
shall we look for a more beautiful exam
ple of true independence, fora brighter
picture of philosophy of life?— New
Genesee Farmer.
How strange that mankind will tug
and strive to become rich, when they:
must know that none enjoy more of life;
than the middling classes. Care, anxie-l
ty, fear, and a thousand evils follow close
in the train of wealth. It is difficult for
men of property to tell who are their
friends or who are their enemies. With
ail the advantages of the rich we are fully
of the opinion that it is better to be in
Imoderate circumstances.. Certainly if t
Iwe took for real enjoyment, the latter s
| state is far preferable. With good and v
i wholesome food, a commodious house, a o
i pleasant family, and a small circle of o
; friends, is all that man should desire. It u
iis certain he can enjoy no more within
j millions at his command. ! f
The Supremacy of Law.
It is the duty of every American citi- 0
zen sacredly to sustain Law. Earth has:*
never seen a despot who rode upon a;'
I more fiery steed, swayed a more bloody r
j sceptre, or who trampled upon human c
j rights with a more callous heart, than *
Anarchy. It is in anarchy that death on s
the pale horse may find an appropriate) 0
antitype. Law is the essence of the De-jP
ity, the genius of the Bible, the guardian 0
angel of humanity.
No matter what the public excitement
—no matter how intense the irritation.
! that hand is indeed suicidal that would)j
unlash the blood bounds of anarchy for
retribution. When those furies sweep j
the streets, like the midnight’s howling |
[ storm, they arc all undistinguished in the ,
object of their desolation. Now the ,
l brothel is torn to fragments, and now the ,
refined dwelling of piety is sacked and I,
. burned. The grogshop blazes to-day—j
the temperance hall to-morrow. Now is)
I demolished the theatre—Satan’s temple;;,
_ and the Church—God’s Sanctuary: Thei (
_ Catholic priest is haunted by the mob]
s this week, the protestant clergyman the!
.next. To-day it is this editor who has
_ perpetrated thisattrocious crime of ex
pressing an unpopular opinion—and to-)
morrow it is his neighbor who receives
j chastisement from these blind furies who
have usurped the guardianship of the
j press, and whom that very press may
j have warmed and nursed into life and
j venom.
j Let then the sentiment be as immova
ble as the eternal granite of the Rocky
, Mountains, that law must be and ever
shall be sustained. Let it be understood ,
r that Govcrment has resistless resources
, which it can and will bring in requisition,
_ if needful, for the protection r>f its citi
, zens. Let every true patriot hold hiin
_ self a volunteer—a minute man to defend
Law; and for her defence let him hold
pledged, life, fortune and sacred honor.
When we contemplate the gathering
, millions filling our land, the mental dark
. ness and sensual passions of such vast
, multitudes, the diversity in fortune which ;
industry talent, and success, produce, i
, the variety of opinions and interest which
must prevail, we cannot magnify the im
. portance of sustaining inviolable law.—
) Rev. J. C. Abbot.
Suspicion.
I “ Suspicion poisoning his brother's cup.”
: Croly s Catiline. ,
There is not within the whole range of
i those passions and feelings, whose action 1
. inflicts misery on mankind, one, which in- '
■ volves so much meanness as suspicion.— *
Springing from an origin which, liow of
> ten, it would blush to acknowledge, it
, swells out “rnobilitate viget, viresque ac- !
• quirit eundo,” until its fell destiny has
. been accomplished, and a blighting mil- 1
i dew has been cast upon some fair charac- 5
| ter, which, if scrutinized through any *
, other than a distorted medium, would ap- 1
; pear beautiful and consistent. It merits )
p contempt —because it is the instrument 1
j through which villainy uses to accomplish
' what it fails to do by just and open accu- '
, sation. It attempts to undermine the re- :
- putation that has been earned by industry 1
; and virtue, by poisoning the cup of friend- 1
. ship, and chilling every feeling of bene- 1
• volence. Is this the dictate of Christian
. charity? Is this doing to others, as we 1
. would they should do unto us? No! it is 1
, a sordid artifice suggested bv the devil ’
p himself, to detract from the high charac
i ter of virtue, when he knows that all
' other artifices have failed.
Suspicion involves more meanness than 1
any other passion, because it is sly and
cowardly : it does not come out with bold
ness and declare its object. Like a dag- c
ger driven by the hand of a friend, we c
know nothing, we suspect nothing—un- (
til its point has entered the heart. Re- c
venge declares openly its design. Envy j
strives to make its object known. Yea! r
the lowest, the meanest of the passions |
aims less at concealment than that low )
(despicable feeling, whose only object is t
to make a hell where a paradise once ex- }
isted. It asks for no argument to sub- [
stantiate its opinions, to justify its con- j
duct. It is sufficient that its victim seems r]
to be in error. Appearance is enough.
I speak not to the men of this world whose
'passions have never been exalted above r
[One Dollar a Year.
theinire and stench of time, who like the
silly water-fowl have flapped their layy
wings along the filthy surface of the stream
of this worlds views and opinions, instead
of, like the eagle, winging their flight
near the sun and amid the stars ; I address
not these. But I address those who pro
fess to guide their views and conduct by a
higher code of morals than that framed
by the “god of this world.” Is it charac
teristic of Christianity, to listen to the ly
ing tongue of malice, to give audience to
every base, despicable tale which suspi
cion, with more than inquisitorial injus
tice, may forgo l The Bible teaches no
such doctrine I Christianity, the religion
of love and cnarity, scorns such princi
ples ! How faithful is the picture given
us by the poet,
“Suspicion poisoning his brother’s cup.”
A Costly Trophy.
We find the following in Mr. Weed’s
late letter from England i
“The dining hall at Chelsea hospital is
ihung with trophy colors and standards,
from the duke of MarlljourooghV victo
rious battle of Blenheim, to *the inglori
ous butcheries of the British army in
I China. Among these emblems of Brit
ish valor, are the sanguinary evidences
that England has been at war with al
most all the nations of the earth, there
are three stand of the American colors
[displayed in the hall. One was taken at
| Washington. I could not learn the his
tory of the other two, but on old veteran
[who heard mo inquiring, came up and re
marked, that he heard a pensioner who
was in the fight when one of them was
taken, say,—“ that Stand of Colors cost,
more British blood, than any other Stand
of Colors in the Hall!” There is noth
ing mortifying in seeing two or three cap
tive American Eagles, with “Epluribus
Unum” in a scroll suspended from their
talons, provided there is neither, dishonor
nor cowardice united with their capture.
And if it were otherwise, I should be in
demnified by the reflection ithat in the
way of trophies, we can display ten times
the number of British colors, flags, and
ships of war, as evidences of American
valor and prowess.”
Tlic Island of Hong Kong.
In the late war between Great Britain
and China, the former took possession of
the island of Hong Kong. They still re
tain it as a station for their vessels ; and
as it is likely to become a place of some
interest, we give a picture which presents
the bold and rugged aspect of the coun
try, and we shall now add a few particu
lars descriptive of the island.
It lies on the const, at the southeastern
point of China, and near to the main land.
| Its surface is very uneven, it being bro
ken into rugged mountains and deep val
leys. It appears like a huge mass of earth
and rock, that has been severed from the
adjacent continent and tumbled into the
sea. The loftiest peak is said to be about
fifteen hundred feet high.
The island exhibits several tall conical
mountains, rising in the centre, and a
beautiful cascade, pouring over a high
rock into the sea. To the right may be
seen a few small huts, which a few years
since, constituted the only habitations up
on the island. These were occupied by
a small number of miserable natives, who
lived almost entirely by fishing.
The island is for the most part sterile
and unpromising. It has no beasts and
few birds; scarcely a tree finds root in
its soil, and the shrubs are stunted and
dwarf-like. By the margin of the streams,
there are numerous flowers; some of
which are exceedingly beautiful. The
climate is hot, and the thermometer some
times rises to one hundred and twenty
degrees. This island is chiefly valuable
to the British, on account of its fine har
bor, which is capable of containing a
great number of ships, which-may there
rest in security.— Merry's Museum.
The Old Hundred.
The music, in harmony of four parts,
of this venerable and deservedly popular
church tune, was composed by Claude
Goudimel, about the year 1544. The
composer, who was chapel-master at
Lyons, France, died in 1572, a victim to
religious opinion. The harmony of this
hymn has since been altered, (not for tho
better,) as may be seen by compairing
the same as arranged in the present col
lection of Church music with the original.
It is a popular musico-historical error that
Martin Luther was the composer of this
noble choral.— S. S. Advocate .
“Proneness to contradiction is the cha
ralteristic of a weak mind.”