Newspaper Page Text
J. A. TrUXEIi, KDITOK.J
VOLUME I.
§ otto.
My Mother's Bible-
Tiiis book is ail that's loft mo now,
Tt-ars will •inLidU. .-.art—
With tailoring lips and throbbing brow,
I press it to my heart. #
For many generations post,
Hero is <• if U:ni!y tree:
M Mother's hands this Bible clasp'd—
She, dying, gave it me.
Alt! well l do I re number those
Whi.se nan; •» these records War;
Who round the hearth st-ue used to close.
After the evening prayer.
Ami In ..ring what those page.*salid,
Its tones my be- r; would thrift!
Though ’.he. are with the silent dead;
Here is theiiviuj si 11 !
My rati or read this Hoi., ho -k
To sis! rs. bretl.er.s. dear':
i! W calm was n.y r-.-r us t'.a r’s look.
Who loved tiod's word to'.ear,
Her aged face—l see it yet 1
What thrilling memories come!
Again -J 0- little group is in. t
Within the halls of Home:
Thou truest friend man ever knew,
Thy constancy I’ve triad.
Wl ero all ware I've tbund thee true,
M;. .ntiscll.-c and guide.
Tiie mitt s oftart'e no treas ties give
That could this volume buy ; .
It’s leaching me the way to live
It's taught me how to die.
ItliSCfllilllCOllS.
Her. E2ie!ingi&n ,W. Sanders.
[CONCLUDED,]
But we must pats on to the closing
scene. Come, my brethren, let us
cather around the living b-d of this
honored servant of Christ, and see how
he, who thus faithfully lived unto the
Lord, can die unto the Lord On the
19th of June. 1851, he had an attack
of vertigo, which was followed by a
general and permanent prostration of
his system. He had been feeble pre
vious to this, but it was now evident
that the brisk, elastic energy of his 1
system, which had borne him through
so many toils, and held in check for
many years .bis constitutional tendency
to comsumption, had given wav, never
effectually to re-act. His occasional
improvements, which sometimes exci
ted hope, soon gave place to greater de
cline, and thus ,by degrees he sunk
away. At intervals, he was able to
take the open air in Xiis buggy, until
last June; from that time he was eon
fined to his house, and mostly to his
room. For four months before his
death he was confined to his bed: for
three or four weeks he was unable to
turn himself in his bed. and for sever
al days he was unable to move any
part of his body, except his hands and
arms. In the meant : ■• he was redu
ced to a state oFgrCat emaciation. and
it beeam difficult to move him with
out causing lum bain.
With the exception of sonic short !
interval.;, his mind retained, to the last, ;
its usual cl nrn .’ss. As one striking I
evidence of this lingering vigor of his j
faculties, during .the two or three
months previous to Lis death, lie ar
ranged alel eormummuted some im
portant, p-wuniary plans. Un sold his
plantation Aral some other valuable
prop: rt v, hired out several of his ser
vant. and dictated the details of a
smaii farm and clearing in the. edge of
fly; town.
TTis spiritual stale during his long
confinement was truly ink -resting.—
The Lord, it seems, had kindly called
his servant away, from those active la
bors in which he had so faithfully
served his generation, and in which he
*o much delighted, that', by the re
tired and quiet deciplino of the sick
room, he might- more thoroughly teach
him the lessons of child-like patience
;utd resignation, and impart the last
finishing touch to his Christain charac
ter. Uis progressive ripening for the
skies was apparent to all. He sought
diligently, and not in vain, for spirit
ual improvement, lie carefully re
viewed the blessed doctrin’es which he
had so long and so faithfullj* proclaim
ed, and found himself reassured of
their excellency ami power. Grace,
soveriegn grace, was the stay and re ;
joieing of his heart. He could not
flweU upon his own works as posses
sing any merit to recommend him to
the favor of God, and when his breth
ren wou|d allude to his past services,
he ijiygriablv directed (heir minds to
% journal—pcbotcli to literature, f! clitics, inttr General StiHcellauu.
! the atonement of Christ a* his only
! hope. lie was uniformly composed
band cheerful, but had no raptures. —
i lie seemed satisfied to rest his hopes
, upon the naked promises of God ; his
I feelings might deceive him, but lie
tilt that God’s promises could never
| fail. At a Certain time his wife read
i to him the account of the last hours of
: Andrew Fuller, which ns lie stated,
.
very much accorded with the exerci
ses of his own mind. The ruling pas*
sion strong in death, is unetimes spok-
I ell of; and what was this ruling pas-
I sion in t.he ease of F> rot her Sanders, .
| but the spirit- of benevolence? He
; thought, in death, of the wants of Zion,
j and shortly before Lis departure gave |
I particular directions a- out his annual
: contribution to tin.'' Convention.— i
Have yi ir financial committee gather
'd up the money sent hither? Then
they have now in their hands the last
lunation of the dying Sanders.
H ’.earnestly sought for patience in;
- affliction: it was the subject of his I
‘ . 1
: own prayers, and when ministering
brethren visited him, he was particular
ir iv«pmst them to present their peti
j lions in ids behalf, that he might be
j submissive and resigned. The last
j two or three days lie seemed anxious,
; i he might fel an impatient de§i*e
|to remain, or go hence; he wished
.io lave no will of his own, to wait
i'pii'd G"d\s own time, although it
might prolong his sufferings, and delay
his’entrance into eternal rest. To vis
i iting friends he expressed great conti
: dene*-in God, quoting 'passages like
this—“ Though he slay me yet will
l trust in him.' Shortly before he j
expired, fearing that he had been too j
anxious to depart, lie said to his friends j
—“ I have sinned, pray that it may be i
pardoned.” A f-w moments before he I
ceased to breathe, he repeafed, with |
great sati.tfaction, the expression of the I
]bsalm: st—v TANARUS! io.ug!i I walk tlirough !
the valley of die shadow of death, Ii
J j
will ie:;r no evil, for thou art with me : j
thy rod ami thy staff they comfort me,” |
•Shortly afterward-, he began to sink, |
and lie passed away quietly without
a struggle. He entered into his rest
on the Lord’s day, the 12th of March,
in the 65th year of his age.
On the following Tuesday his re
mains were conveyed to the College '
Chapel, where an appropriate funeral j
discourse was preached by Professor j
Hillyer, from Rev. xiv.: 13: “Bless- i
jed are the dead, Ac. From the chapel, j
his body was . borne to the village j
i grave-vard, accompanied bv a larger I
1 •/ O . j
I funeral procession than ever before en- '
i tered that enclosure of the dead.— i
There, in that retin-d and peaceful
grave-yard, n ar the the pleasant vil
■ hige which ho founded, and of which
jhe was long a distinguished orna
j men't; near the University which, had
shared so largely in his labors and his j
j love; within a lew feet of the remains j
lof the venerated Mercer, with whom, ;
j when living, lie had stood in faithful j
• service for so. man y years, shoulder to j
shoulder, heart to heart: there sleeps!
| the precious dust of Billington McCar
j ter Sanders.
“Live and let Live”.—This,
though an old and good maxim is fre
quently disregarded now-a-days. Once
th«ere was a time when—but we must
not goto repining on account of de
parted days—our business is with the
present. “Live and Ft live,” is one of
those mottos that may be variously ex
emplified. We give but one instance:
Suppose there was a village, and in that
village suppose there was a newspaper
that had an extensive circulation.—
Suppose there were storekeepers also in
that same village and that they Hula
’great many goods m their stores so dis
pose ot. Now suppose that the Edi
tor, Publisher, Foreman and Composi
tors attached to the aforesaid newspa
per, were in the habit of trading with
these same shopkeepers whenever they
happened to need any thing in mer
cantile line. And suppose that these
storekeepers, to save a few dollars,
should fail to encourage their home
newspaper by their advertising patro
nage, thereby injuring themselves and
defrauding (as it were) the printer pf
his just and righteous dues. Suppose
all this, and yam have a case which is
the reverse of ‘ Live and 1 t live.” Ir,
is easy enough from this to guess how
the tiling should be* To apply these
remarks, we ask the reader to see how
many of the Edgefield merchants have
thought proper to advertise in pgr col
umns. No wonder we have an auc
tion or two every year. We boldly
-take the ground i hat the merchant .who
<* -fuses to encourage the ' printer de
serves not to bo encouraged liim
self,--r/d/yc/jcW. (S. C.) Paper.
without iu.au, r.ti'on on jiufuvtio.y » 8
EATONTPN, GA„ SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 4, 1854.
S. tetephens, iluthorc&s
oi u .Manshiftu and I'amine
.ylwu Stephens is a native of a rural
village in the State -of Maine, which
Slate has produced one-third of the
literary- men and women of the United
States of the present day. Willis
Longlellow, Dr. (Jhecver, t he authoress
ot ” .Northwood,” Mrs. Seba Smith,
“.Jack Downing,” John Heal, Win.
Cutter, the, poet, Grenville Mellon, the
pov t, Mrs. I’’ranees S. Osgood, were all
natives of Maine, with-many others of
note.
Mrs. Stephens was born overrunning
with genius. She had the privileges
widen only a, country school could fur
nish, and her associations were with
the plain, farming population of an ob
scure region,' where snows and granite
contended against toil and comfort,—
W ith her talents and mental superiori
ty. sue could not be otherwise in New
England, (where all clev< r women are,
or were once school-mistresses,) than a
teacher of,a village school. She wrote
'for the papers before seventeen. Her
productions were brilliant and-crude,
imt burning with the true poetic lire.
V publisher became enamored of the
verses, and on seeing the lair authoress i
transient*-.d his. penchant to her. At
that time she was a slender, tall girl, j
with auburn (we dare not write red) !
hair, a (ail* high forehead, a Scotch j
rose-and-white complexion and blue j
eyes, sparkling with taste and imagin- !
alien. In manners, she was awkward
and shy, a thorough country lass, igno
rant of the world and the artificial
forms of society. She could ride like
an Arabian, teach like a Newton, write
like a Homans, and captivate everybo
dy by her conversation. Vet site had
never semi a city—prehaps not a brick
house or paved street.
The publisher,- a quiet, amiable,
sentimental gentleman, lost his heart;
lie had the courage to propose to the
“ village genius,” and she the condes
cension to accept him. He married
and took her to" the city of Portland.
Here she vvaw dazzled by the libraries,
the literary men, the brilliant society
to which her graceful poetical articles
in her husband’s paper introduced her.
Her society -was, courted, and she be
came a lioness in literature. Her rus
tic naivete, her independence, her col
loquial powers, her good sense and j
wit soon rendered her a favorite with I
intelligent gentlemen and the dislike
of her own sex. In her poems she
did not spare them, and she thus fell
into an attitude of war with them, but
with the advantage on the side of her
keen and cutting pen. Yet Mrs.
Stephens was. and is, one of the most
amiable persons in the world ; and her
phillippics were usually as just as they
were well-aimed.
' She published • a book, and New
York puuTishers negotiated with her
for others. Sue removed to New York,
to an atmosphere more genial for one
of her independent ways, be Portland
she* would often be seen 'gallopping
alone at full speed down the main
street, spring lightly to the pavement,
throw the bridle cavalierly to bev hus
band to hold; run into t.he office- to
read proof; re-appeai* in 20 minutes,
re-take the bridle, nod “ thankee ’’ to
her lord, mount and off’ again, like a
Cossack, or'as if riding . against wind
and time.
These and other eccentricities' ren
dered quiet Portland not- so pleasant
as at first, and she gladly took up her
residence in New York, where, with
the exception of a tour in Europe, she
has since resided.
Mrs. Stephens is" fully appreciated
as a literary woman. She has no su
perior among American female .writers
in style and brilliancy of imagination.
Her late work will place her at the
head of Ann rlean female novelists.
This ladv is now about thirty nine,
very plain, bug in five minutes her
Hashing eves, her fascinating conversa
tion and manner make one
forget'that, she’s not a Hebe. Mrs.
Stephens visits editors and chats with
tlicin in their sanctums with the* free
dom of one of their own sex,, joins
gentlemen of list* acquaintance on
promenade with a free and easy way;
hails a friend, Willis, Ilalleek or Mor
ris, across Broadway an i is-altogether
remarkably independent of 'Convention
al forms; yet no authore-sis nforopopu
lar or more liked by those who know
her, and as a woman she never crosses
the line of feminine modesty as to
diminish-aught from that self respect
which she’ claim's as a. woman, and
which is irresistibly conceded to
her. — Mobile Tribune.
This Very, Latest ])g<j Case.—
Wo have lately published - several re
markable instances of canine sagacity,
which arc supposed to have occurred
in the Northern States, and have for
some time indulged in the impression
that Southern dogs ought to do some
thing to distinguish themselves. The
thing hast been done, and we think our
dog is. a leettle -ahead. -A .lyiend of
ours having been (Inly sworn op a
map of the southern portion pf Michi
gan, tpstifiies as follows: A largo
Newfoundland dup, w.lfo rejoices in the
a| > pel hit ion ,of “Through Tickets,” was
strobing in the buck parl,of the town,
when he encountered,a small boy who
Hid wandered away fiogi his home.
and was weeping bitterly. “Through
Tickets,” contemplated the littc fellow
for a moment, and reflected upon the
propriety of giving hint a free passage
home. His generous impulse prevail
ed, and seizing the boy* gently by the
coat, he urged him along until they
chanced to come to a confectioner’s
when he bought him two sticks of pep
permint candy, and then conducted
him home. We pause for a reply-.
[A. 0. Delta.
Table Mo vim; at im. i:\vr u>.—N.
P. Willis, in a late Home Journal, de
scribes some exhibitions of tin’s phe
nomenon which took place atlas coun
try residence, in the presence of “a
judge of the City Bench, two lady lea
ders of society (one from New York
and the other from Boston,) a young
lady just returned from Europe) « sub
stantial merchant, and a Successful au
thor, (Bayard Taylor.”) The company
were assembled for the purpose of ma
king trial of an “odic” or a sort of
Spiritual prescription which had been
sent Mr. Willis for the cure of consump
tion, under which he is suffering. Af
ter the trial, (which Mr. W. declares
was followed by favorable results.) the
following incidents occurred:
“Our talk naturally led to experi
ments at table moving; and One of the
wooden-legged quadrupeds—an or-m'o
lu table of the most steady habits, stand
ing in the centre of the drawing-room
—began to prance with our Boston
friend’s laying her hands lightly upon
it, and the next moment, (though she is
a large and majestic lady,) knocked her
and my little daughter Lillian pro- j
strate upon the floor, very nearly up- !
set the Judge, and broke the arm of a j
lotus-crowed statue of Melancholy j
which was on a stand in the corner*.— i
it appeared that Spirits invoked to j
heal lungs, may also assault ladies and j
children, damage furniture and break J
objects of Art—mischievous ‘angels of
mercy; to say tlie least. Under the |
touch of one of our v isitors, (an inva- |
lid lady who could scarcely walk across ;
the room',) the tables, one and all, that j
evening, seemed particularly ungov- j
erliable. Two ot our neighbors who j
chanced to come in,—(our venerable
friend S. and a stout working farmer)
—were obliged to hop out of the way,
in the midst of their unbelief, to make
room for the possessed mahogany pir- j
oueting under the mere touch of her ;
slender fingers. No two of the men
present could, by holding oh with main
strength, stop the one lady’s will pow
er thus exercised—the table rising from
the floor or gliding away, as if gentle
men-wills were the only obstacle. The
faces of the scared servants, who' were
peeping in at the doors, would have
been a study for Fuseli. The very
tables they had becs-waxed every day!
“ Os course we ‘ believed ’ nothing—
any of us. But this was what we saw.
“ I may as well add, perhaps that,
to my own touch, the ‘possessed’ tables
were wholly -insensible —as they were
to the touch of all the gentlemen pre
sent. The danced only with ladies:
[Am Era.
The Woman who If aunts Mario
—The seat taken for [lie-season under
the'name-of Coutfs is filled every ope
ra night by that plustcr-of-paris-looking
female who has accepted the cogno
men. Hitherto it has generally been
supposed that she was a manager’s
myth—a lady got up for effect by
Hackett, and romanced info notoriety
at so much per line. This is a mistake.
She is an English woman of large for
tune—mad as a March hare, no doubt, i
and just as desperately in love with
the Marquis as a lunatic might,(be ex
pected. to be. She brought to this
country letters of credit from the Lon
don banking house ol Coutts k Cos., to
a large amount. She buys largely at
Stewart’s, Gcnin’s, and other fashion
able stores; [laying for her purchases
in fifty-pound letters of credit bearing
the signature and water-marks of Coutts j
k Cos., and her own endorsement.— j
Her real name is ‘Frances Sarah Gyle; j
which she affixes in a very sane look- j
ing hand to the aforesaid fifty pounds.
Every time she visits tlie opera she ar
rays herself in anew costume, and, if
one may judge from Tier appearance,
gives her lace anew coat of whitewash.
She is staying at the St. Nicholas, and
has with her a very nice looking lady’s
maid, who seems quite in despair'at
the vagaries of her mistress, whom
she is very anxious to get back to Eng
land again. Mario has had one inter
view with the lair demented since her
arrival, but what passed thereat, this
deponent, not knowing, cannot say.- —
The story about her having followed
the handsome (but rather Jew-visaged)
'tenor to St. Petersburg and elsewhere,
is all true. One ot these days she
will have Grisi iu her hair.—.Y Y.
Leader. - y. s
Our Printer having complained the
other day that his -umbrella had rusted
and fallen to pieces in less than three
weeks, the tradesman of whom he
bought it refused to make him any al
lowance, on. the ground that lie must
have got i( iost / v<
Miss Lucy- Stone. —This celebra
ted advocate of woman’s rights, who
has been lecturing all over the Union,
and is said is about to be married to a
wealthy gentleman of Cincinnati. The
happy fellow is presumed to boa man
ot great nerve, feo Lucy’s piigrarnage
is ended, and henceforward it will bc°:
Talife your time,, dear Lucy,
Aiui mate.tin; coffee strong;
Oh, rock tjie cradle. Lyey,
And keep the baby warm.— S. Xem.
In an error, Major, if we” under
hand the ease. Our understanding is
that when-one of the strong-minded
marries, the offices and duties of moth
er fall upon the man, and upon him
are devolved all the cooking and ba
by doings. Is it not so, Miss Lucy ?
ha tort ton ( ( 5/) Jdresr.
Dues not our accomplished friend
ol the Press know, that it is only, the
eapon that takes care of the • young
brood, if other aid than the. maternal
wing is required ? And certainly he
does not suppose an v of the strong
mind- and have-,any; fbutiuess for the neu
ter gender. We humbly submit that
lie wrongs Miss Lucy by his implica
tion \-Mont. (A/a.) Mail.
A liieatrk in Atlanta.—Among
the numerous evidences of improve
ment. now going forward in our thriv
ing young city we may notice ala roe
and commodious brick building, now
nearly completed, on Decatur street,
the second .story of which is being fit
ted up for a theatre. The room will
be ninety feet long and fifty wide,
with a large and well arranged gal
lery on three sides; the whole being
sufficiently large to scat upwards of
eight .hundred persons: The since,
dressing rooms and other arrangements
behind the scenes will be ample and
convenient. Workmen are already
engaged in painting the scenery,- and
the theatre is expected to be finished,
and open to the public with the perform
ances of Mr. and Mrs. W 11. Crisp and
their talented corps of actors-about the
middle of nex*t month.— AH. intelli
gencer.
i 1 HE Newspaper.-In promotion of so
desirable an object as tin; union of the
intellectual with the useful, the nevvs
pape.r is ail important auxiliary; It is
more. It is typical of the communi
ty in which it circulates, and is encour
aged. It tells its character, as well as
its condition; its tastes ns well ns-its
necessities ; the moral as well as phy
sical stamina of population and sod; it
is the map whereon are traced our ten
dencies and destinies-—the chart to di
rect the traveler and settler to safe and
pleasant harborage, or to divert them
irom the shoals and quicksands of soci
al degradation. At home, it brings to
our firesides; it imparts to our house
hold, it impresses on our children, its
sentiment of propriety or its tone of
contamination. Abroad it is regarded
as our Oracle, and speaks; volumes tor
or against us: In its business features
may be discerned the indications of our
prosperity or otherwise,' in a worthy,
sense; but in its general complexion
will be discovered our moral and spir
itual faithfulness or disease. It is . the
portraiture of our imperfections, as well
as the chronicler of our advancement.
[A at. hi teliigenter.
A Profound Thought.— l do not
know that J. ever suggested to you a
fancy which has sometimes come into
my head. 1 have/ thought, that bv
analyzing a pain, I have becu able to
find an-element of pleasure in it. I
have thought, too, that by looking a
pain fully,.in the face, and compreheiid
mg it, i have diminished its intensity;
Distinct perception, instead of ag
grvating, decreases evil. This I
have found when reading accounts of;
terrible accidents, which at first made |
me shudder. By taking them to |
pieces, and conceiving each part dis-’j
tiuctly, L Iftive been able to think of
them calmly, and to feel that I, too,
could pass through them. Sy.apathy
increases'by the process, but not‘fear.
The sympathy weakens the personal
fear; but litis is not the whole expla
nation. The soul by resisting- ti e
first shudder, and by placing itself near
the terrible, by an act-of the will, puts
forth energies which reveal it to itself,
and make it conscious of something
within, mightier than suffering. The
power ot distinct knowledge, in giving
Courage, 1 have never seen insisted on,
and 5 yet it is a part of my experience.
The unknown, the vague, the dark, j
what imagination invest with infinity—
this, terrifies; and the remark applies
not to physical.'evil alone, but to all
others. —Vh gun ihg.
lIKAitT—A rare article., sometimes,
found in human beings, It is soou,
however, .destroyed by commerce with
the /world, or else becomes fatal, to its
possessor.
Our junior--partnor returned a pair
of trqwsers to his tailor last week, be
cause they were too small in the legs.
“But you tiff'd me to make them as light’
as your skip,” said the tailor. UTruc,’j:
rejoined our colleague, d0r...1 can sp
down in niy skin, luitjril be split if I
can in thosq breeches!'’Theitaffor cove
in. ' ; A
Miner,Ho iff.
[from the cotton planter.l
[No. 3.]
Gov. Broom sir: Immedia
-tely on ascertaining tlie result of my
.first extensive experiment in manur
ing and spacing cotton, I communica
ted the facts to the “ Albany CfiTliva
tor,,’ an agricultural paper that had, at
that time, quite a- large circulation, in
the cotton-growing States. My object
as expressed at the time, was to have
these experiments tested in various
sections of the cotton-growing region.
I gav the details carefully and min
utely. I saw all the difficulties, and
feared tlie ron/h in the hands of gen
tlemen less interested than myself.—
I The great principle of the improve
ment was a fixed fact, The extraor
dinary yield of cotton, the small area
of land, naturally very poor, occupied
m its production, and th Q home means
employed, were facts too. striking,
and of too much importance, to lie
overlooked or slightly regarded by
me.
As I have stated previously, it mat
tered not in a “first, crude experi
ment,” what amount of personal trou
ble it gave me to so adjust and ar
range these home means to produce
such extraordinary results. The great
est diliicu’lty connected with this ex
periment, was the trouble in getting a
stand, next to an impossibility. L
had never seen manure applied to
crops in any other: way than in the
hill, which succeeded finely with- corn,
but with cotton it is entirely different.
Whore the manure applied in thc-hills
for cotton is worth the labor of ap
plication, arid enough is used to pro
duce a decided benefit, one half the
! hills at the. least,.will either- fail to
come up or die immediately aft or
coming up. This is an inherent dif
ftieulty in the plant itse!tj from its
tnody of germination, which Ia seer
tamed dining the three succeeding
years that 1 devoted to .the subject for
the express purpose of overcoming
this main difficulty. The cotton” seed,
in the process’ of germi i ration, attracts
from the surrounding soil, and from' the
.atmosphere, an unusual amount of wa
ter, as compared with other seed un
dergoing this process. Any artificial
condition of the soil, which 'concentra
tes imriiediately about the cotton seed
at this time an undue quantity of al
kaline, gaseous matter causes': the
fluid, contained in the tender, re
ticulated, or mesh-like incipient vege
table fibre, to' undergo a species of
fermentation, which of course: destroys
the, vitality of the young plant. The
plant is subject to this influence where
a remunerative quantity of good ma
nure, either compost, guano, or chemi
cals of any kind, has been used in the
hill, even after having put out the
third and fourth leaves.
AYhother philosophically explained
or not, the discovery of. tire -fact cost
me three years of the closest investi
gation. The tap root of* the cotton
plantdoes not make its way into the
soil a perfectly organized root; the.
sprout which is the root leaving tire
seed at the small end, t dips directly
down ward, w here it .coirimences. ppur
ing out a semi-fluid substance, which
is attracted downward partly by gravi
tation, and partly, perhaps, by electri
city. This substance, like a' small
streak of smoke, is remarkably fragile,
constantly and rapidily descending.—
It is the .riiould iri which the tap root
is formed. Any persons who will
take the trouble, can assertain this
fact for himself. Thus it is easy to
understand how it- is, that an imnatu-J
ral alkalization of the soil in the im-J
mediate vicinity of such condition oil
vegetable existence, should affect itsJ
vitality.
At the end of the third year, I dip
termined upon anew mode of appli\
cation entirely, which consisted in
spreading all the manure used broad
cast. This was done' by*'hauling the
manure out on the lain! arid depositing
it in heap rows, say thirty fegt apart,
and the heaps 30 feet apart imthe rows,)
with 10 bushels of mauure ,in each
heap. The cotton-rows being first
laid,- the manure was spread ..broad-oast;
and the land bedded up. ()n or about
the 10lit of April, the eott
planted after a spacer, by .which the
•hill's are regulated precisely as desired,
| TERMS, $2,00 A YEAR;
NUMBER 29.
The result was a perfect stand, with
the cotton healthy, and all of the same
age. There is no difficulty in under
standing the ciifference here in favor of
broad-casting the manure, and in bed
wng out the rows. It is not deposited,
a hall-gallon in a place, but is incorpo
rated evenly .and uniformly through!
out all the soil. Theconseq.uon.ce is,
that however rich the manure may be
in alkaline matter, its thorough ia
corjiora!io'i'i with the soil, so quickly
and effectively dilutes it, as to render
it entirely innoxious to young cotton.—
J here was no part of the experiment
which gave mo so much satisfaction as
tids. la very planter knowsthe value of
a first, uniform and perfect stand. I use
tue term perfect, because by the use of
of the spacer, I approximate nearer , a
perfect stand than it is possible to ac
complish by any other process.
from the interest and close atten
tion bestowed upon this subject in all
its various relations, the season had
not expired before 1 clearly saw—as
1 then thought, and as subsequent ex
periment has and still is demonswat
ing—a grand system of plantation econ
omy, destined to revolutionize entirely
the petty land-wasting custom of the
country. You nor I, my very dear
sir, may never live to see the day when
that very last man shall cejfse to lay
las cotton-rows up one hill and down
the other, thus draining off the vitali
ty of his land every three to three
and a half feet, to the depth of his
puny plow, or to waste the sure means
of keeping up the futility of the fields,
by feeding bis stock in the public road,
cron the branch-side; but will the
of science and experience before nmvk
dom clearly points out the 6‘ourse
which it is our duty to pumue while
iwe do live, from a three-fijll binding
eon;: .deration : first our in
terest, then the true , interest of our
country, and, lastlyJpe.obligation we
are under to the true interest of our
children, to use dingenth’ every means
in our power, to inform ourselves
and the public njliid as to the most
economical rnoddpof plantation econo
my. I have uq, jpitienoc with the inac
; rive', inoperatjvtffiriendship for agficul
| turn! improvei|ln!s, of those clever
gentlemen will tell me continually,
j Sir, your Jyisteißs_ are beautiful, your
manure, *,dnd manure making, with
■your glade ditching and horizontaling
and yojr rotatiofs, &c., &c., are con
ditionsmet tally essential to the improve
ment <>f our agriculture, but! say they,
likeyvlfy other country, tki s beauti
ful forgst must be felled by the ruth
less haudyof Mr. Carenot; all this mai
den and fertile soil must first be ex
hausted aid washed into the branches,
gur linginfaire an dlimped water from
the hands ofnature, and the fields dc
■ laced by gullies aml_ poverty grass,—
and not till give in to a
complete and porpet system of improvc
l'uent. ; •
I beg to be Mistkietly 5 understood
here, as ailudinMo the great principles
of improvcmentmnd not to any indi
vidual. practice jfndcr it. In my own
■practice and system of rotation, which
; I have.had ii| successful operation here
at La Place knee 184-6,1 am not im
movably conftlent that I have hit up
on that arrangWjemt under the princi
ple; tliatjs the best re
sult. So.igpgiWe am I, however, that
it is- wojpProf general adoption in its
main knurcs, that 1 feel no hesitation
in:coj|iteifding it to the consideration
us tlipe planters who have determin
ed JB begin the good work of irnprove
mmi. Asa matter of course, the cir
opnstances of locality will, to some
pbre or less extent, modify the prac
but the principle remains the
psune.
Having thus disposed of the experi-
Linents, I shall, in several subsequent
■lumbers, treat the subject as a matur
ed system of plantation economy, show
png, as I think, and, as my practice
"clearly proves, the eminent advantage
off a proper rotation, eveir in' cotton .
In doing this, I shall res
pond .to your various inquiries of stock,
and mapurc making, kc.
as in place. 1 Du. Cloud, A
’ ——r — -
A brother us that when
he was in prison fb J|bliing a justice
of the ; p'eaec, he by the
10 s;v ■■
A lieutenant’s widow writes ta.com
is lejrlN^nan^
