Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

ipP faff l Wm fUf J» dllL JPF ® JEfIMP v > i: • *?" -J■ n ;>«jjp'- *, ~ \ l\V>\W\WV\VW>4VX\\% V»VX\\VW\VW\W^WV«WM\V\»\%V\\W\WV» gj ©Mil®) : irllirlf to 2&r&Mfeg». >. 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.”