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diff --git a/old/53501-8.txt b/old/53501-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index bf4df5c..0000000 --- a/old/53501-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,8171 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Southern Literary Messenger, Vol. I., -No. 3, November, 1834, by Various - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: The Southern Literary Messenger, Vol. I., No. 3, November, 1834 - -Author: Various - -Editor: James E. Heath - -Release Date: November 11, 2016 [EBook #53501] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SOUTHERN LITERARY MESSENGER, NOV 1834 *** - - - - -Produced by Ron Swanson - - - - - -THE SOUTHERN LITERARY MESSENGER: - -DEVOTED TO EVERY DEPARTMENT OF LITERATURE AND THE FINE ARTS. - - -Au gré de nos desirs bien plus qu'au gré des vents. - _Crebillon's Electre_. - -As _we_ will, and not as the winds will. - - -RICHMOND: -T. W. WHITE, PUBLISHER AND PROPRIETOR. -1834-5. - - - - -SOUTHERN LITERARY MESSENGER. - -VOL. I.] RICHMOND, NOVEMBER 1834. [NO. 3. - -T. W. WHITE, PRINTER AND PROPRIETOR. FIVE DOLLARS PER ANNUM. - - - - -The _Publisher and Proprietor_, has made such arrangements for the -management of the _Editorial Department_, as he hopes will be -satisfactory to his patrons. If the circulation of the "Messenger" -continues to increase, he has it in contemplation not only to secure -regular able contributions, but also to embellish some of his monthly -numbers with handsome lithographic drawings and engravings; but the -cost cannot be prudently incurred without an enlargement of his list. -He therefore hopes that such of his friends as feel an interest in the -successful prosecution of this first serious attempt to establish a -literary periodical south of the Potomac, will aid him in extending its -circulation--as the best means of ensuring its continuance and utility. -_If each of his subscribers would only procure an additional one_, the -work would not only be _firmly established_ but greatly _increased in -value_. The Publisher avails himself of this opportunity to inform the -correspondent of the Portland Advertiser that the latter is mistaken in -respect to the place of his nativity. The Publisher did once reside in -the city of Boston, and can freely bear testimony to the high -character, the generous feelings and the noble accomplishments of its -citizens--but he was only a sojourner among them; having been born, and -for the most part reared in the Ancient Dominion. If he were not a full -blooded Tuckahoe Virginian, he would like to be a Bostonian. - -All communications of every kind must be addressed to T. W. White, -_Publisher and Proprietor_. - -The issuing of the present number has been delayed in consequence of -the change to a _monthly_ instead of a semi-monthly publication. The -Publisher hopes that the change will be agreeable to his patrons. He is -firmly persuaded of its expediency in various respects. - - - - - For the Southern Literary Messenger. - -SKETCHES OF THE HISTORY - -And Present Condition of Tripoli, with some accounts of the other -Barbary States. - -No. I. - - -_Washington City, November, 1834_. - -Agreeably to my promise, I send you the sheets containing _Sketches of -the History and present condition of Tripoli, with some account of the -other States of Barbary_ which may perhaps be found worthy of insertion -in the "SOUTHERN LITERARY MESSENGER." They are the fruits of researches -made for my amusement, into the history of those countries, and to -which I was led by information accidentally obtained respecting the -present condition of affairs in Tripoli. - -The north of Africa has so long remained in comparative obscurity, -exercising little or no influence in the grand game of national -contests, which forms the subject of our most interesting modern -histories, that works relating to it are few in number, and generally -bear unequivocal marks of the ignorance or prejudice of the writers. -For this reason, it is difficult to obtain a correct statement of -facts, and almost always impossible to arrive at motives; persons -therefore who estimate the propriety of labor, by calculating the value -of its produce, would easily be diverted from such researches, although -they might not object to profit by their results. - -I have endeavored to arrange into a regular series, the facts thus -collected, passing lightly over those which are the most generally -known, and introducing occasionally a few observations, which will not -I hope be considered obtrusive. Yet I fear that I shall not succeed in -communicating any interest to the pages of your periodical; the details -of selfish intrigue, murder and treachery, never relieved by incidents -springing from generous motives, which constitute the history of the -north African nations, are, I must confess, more likely to excite -disgust than pleasurable emotions; still they exhibit man as he is, -without the light of civilization, or the restraints of moral duty; and -may serve to attach us still more strongly to those social and -political institutions, without which a similar state of things might -exist among ourselves. - -I am, sir, &c. R. G. - - -The countries lying on the southern shore of the Mediterranean, and -usually denominated the Barbary States, have for many ages been almost -forgotten by the christian world, or only remembered as the abode of -pirates and ruffians. The maritime powers of Europe seem however at -length to have recollected, that at a short distance from them, are -territories of great extent and fertility, capable of producing most of -the articles now obtained, by means of long and dangerous voyages, from -the East and West Indies, and offering every facility for commercial -intercourse, with the countless nations inhabiting the vast continent -of Africa. These territories are, it is true, already inhabited by -people living under acknowledged governments; but a continued course of -misconduct, which experience has shewn to be incorrigible, has caused -them to be regarded as completely out of the pale of civilization; and -if they retain their independence much longer, it will be rather from -jealousy among their powerful neighbors than from any respect for their -claims to nationality. - -The French have already set the example, by the conquest of the -principal places on the coast of Algiers, and although they have as yet -penetrated but a short distance into the interior, there can be no -doubt that steady and well directed efforts, such as they are now -pursuing, must eventually secure to them the possession of a large and -valuable tract. The British have indeed protested strongly against the -retention of these conquests, but never, that we have heard, on the -grounds of injustice to the vanquished party. - -Tunis, the next in power as in situation to Algiers, would be even a -more important acquisition in a political or commercial point of view, -than Algiers; but it would not probably be reduced without an immense -expenditure of blood and treasure; for its resources are comparatively -great, and its government efficient and well organised. Besides which, -it has not of late afforded any cause for dissatisfaction, having -yielded with a good grace to the necessity of abandoning piracy, and -evinced a disposition to seek for wealth, by the surer means of -industry and commerce. - -Tripoli, the other and least important of the States of Barbary, had, -until lately, pursued a course similar to that of Tunis, and its -condition was highly prosperous; it was in fact the first to desist -from piratical cruises, for which the world is indebted in a great -measure to the efforts of the United States, during the years 1803 and -4. But dissensions in the family of the sovereign have at length -produced a civil war, in which the foreign residents suffer as well as -the natives; and thus have motives, at least specious, for foreign -interference, been given to the two powers which divide between them -the empire of the Mediterranean. The French, as usual, took the lead, -by sending a squadron to Tripoli, which in 1828 dictated the terms of -the redress to be made to their citizens; and they have since that -period, by the aid given indirectly to one of the contending parties, -obtained a degree of ascendancy which has excited the jealousy of Great -Britain. - -These circumstances induced inquiries into the present condition of -Tripoli, which naturally led to others respecting its past history and -that of the neighboring states; and the results being considered -interesting, have been thrown together in the following form. - - * * * * * - -The north-western part of the African continent is traversed by a lofty -and extensive mountain range, which is known to us by its classic name -of ATLAS. On the northern and western sides, these ridges extend to the -sea, forming by their projections numerous capes and promontories, -which have been the dread of navigators in every age. On the south, -they in many places disappear as abruptly in the great ocean of sand -called _Zahara_, or the Desert, which stretches across the continent, -from the Atlantic to the valley of the Nile, and the shores of the -Mediterranean; the descent is, however, generally gradual, leaving -tracts of productive soil between the steeps and the desert; these -tracts, though not adapted for the growth of grain, are so highly -favorable to the Palm, that they are known by the name of -Bilad-oul-jerrid, or the Country of Dates. - -The mountains are highest and most continuous in the west; towards the -east they become gradually lower, and there are many breaks in the -chain, through which the sand makes its way from the desert; at length -they disappear entirely beyond the great bend which the coast of the -Mediterranean makes to the southward near Tripoli; and the sand having -no barrier to check its advances, is rolled by the prevailing southerly -winds to the shores of the sea. - -Thus bounded and cut off from other habitable countries by sea and by -sand, the region of the Atlas may be considered as one vast island; and -these circumstances of its situation should ever be borne in mind, in -moral or political speculations concerning it. Hence it was, that -civilization did not gradually overspread it from the east, and that it -could only be colonized by maritime powers; that neither the Egyptians, -the Persians, nor the Macedonians effected its conquest, as they -neither possessed adequate fleets, nor troops accustomed to the -peculiar difficulties and dangers of the desert; and that the Arabs -alone, a people bred among trackless wastes of sand, ventured to invade -it without assistance from the sea. Indeed the little that is known of -the geology of northern Africa, encourages the supposition that at some -past period this country was encircled by water; and ingenious attempts -have been made to prove that it was in reality the famed island of -Atlantis, which was vainly sought by the ancient navigators in the -ocean beyond the Pillars of Hercules. - -The climate and soil of these countries are various, as may be -suspected from their situation and the inequalities of their surface. -Of the interior we know but little, and deductions from facts must -supply the place of observation. On some of the mountains the snow -remains during nearly the whole year, while the valleys and plains have -yielded sugar, coffee and other productions, which require regular and -intense heat. Grain is raised abundantly in the west, and the olives, -grapes and figs of Barbary have been celebrated at all times. Of its -general fertility, the immense population which it formerly supported -is a sufficient evidence, while the athletic forms of the inhabitants -prove its salubrity. But few rivers flow from the interior into the -sea, and the largest streams are said to proceed from the southern -sides of the mountains, whence they are discharged into lakes or -dispersed in the sand. - -The coasts, as already observed, are precipitous and dangerous, -particularly in autumn, during the prevalence of northerly winds; they -are however free from shoals and other hidden difficulties, and have -many ports which are safe and easy of access, while others might be -rendered so by art. It is likewise certain, that many of the existing -obstacles to the navigation would disappear, if a proper survey were -made, and lighthouses were established where requisite; for the charts -now in use are very defective, and no provisions whatever are made by -the governments of the country; this, however, there is reason to -believe, will ere long be corrected. - -The superficial extent of Barbary cannot be as yet calculated; we know -that it has coasts of five or six hundred miles on the Atlantic, and of -about fifteen hundred on the Mediterranean; but the breadth between the -sea and the desert varies considerably, and is no where correctly laid -down. It is probably greatest in the vicinity of the Atlantic and in -Tunis, where it may be one hundred and fifty miles; in Algiers, Shaler -considers it generally to be about sixty miles; but Tripoli is merely a -narrow strip of soil, on the Mediterranean, in many places traversed by -rocky spurs from the mountains, and tracts of sand from the desert. - -The materials for the early history of this country are very imperfect; -we possess no works of ancient native writers, and the accounts from -which all our information must be drawn, appear in the form of episode, -in those of Greek and Roman historians. It seems to have been -originally inhabited by fierce and intractable tribes, of which those -most advanced in civilization, had only reached the pastoral state. -Herodotus gives us the names of many of these tribes, which it is now -useless to enumerate; those of the eastern part were comprehended by -the Greeks under the general name of _Nomades_, or wanderers, which, -unknown among themselves, was afterwards converted by the Romans into -_Numidians_, and became their distinctive national appellation; the -_Mauri_ occupied the western part, and this term, (in English, -_Moors_,) is now applied by Europeans to all the natives of Barbary. - -The enterprising Greeks and Phoenicians did not allow the advantages -offered by northern Africa to be neglected, and they established -colonies on its coast, which attained a high degree of prosperity. The -Greeks made their settlements on the sterile shore now forming the -eastern part of Tripoli, and lying immediately south of Peloponnesus, -where the Mediterranean forms a gulf anciently called the Great Syrtis. -As the surrounding country is by no means productive, these colonies -could only have been supported by trade with the interior of Africa; -and were probably the resort of caravans bringing gold, gums, spices, -ivory and other precious articles, to be exchanged for the manufactures -of Greece and Asia. Such a traffic, we know from the accounts of late -travellers, is still carried on from Tripoli; and the part of the -desert lying south of it is better adapted than any other for that -purpose, on account of the many _oases_, or islands of cultivable soil, -which are scattered through it, offering rest, and a supply of food and -water to the caravans while on their march. By these means, the Greek -cities acquired great wealth, and became the seats of luxury, -refinement and science; and stupendous ruins, the haunt of the jackal -and hyæna, still remain to attest the former splendor of Cyrene and -Apollonia. - -The more adventurous Phoenicians made their settlements farther -westward, in the fertile region now composing the states of Algiers, -Tunis and a small part of Tripoli; they flourished even more than those -of the Greeks, and became the principal seats of commerce in the -western Mediterranean. Of many of these colonies, history has preserved -to us the names, and nothing more; one of them, however, far outshone -the rest, and its struggle for supremacy with Rome, forms the subject -of one of the most interesting portions of ancient history. Of -Carthage, perhaps it might be as Sallust conceived, "_melius silere -quam parum dicere_," better to say nothing, than only a little; yet a -few remarks on its political system and the results of that system, -will serve to illustrate the condition of northern Africa during this -early period. - -The situation of this celebrated city near the narrow streight which -separates Sicily from Africa, was admirably adapted for commerce with -either division of the Mediterranean; its rivals, Agrigentum and -Syracuse, possessed indeed the same advantages of site; but Carthage, -besides a soil equally fertile, had the superiority in her intercourse -with the central parts of the continent. Of her constitution we know -too little to be able to judge what share her government may have had -in her advancement; there is every probability, however, that wealth -had great influence in her councils, and that its acquisition was at -first the great end of individual and national enterprise. The first -object of her statesmen seems to have been, to extend her dominion over -the territory at home; this was attempted by means of colonies -judiciously placed, which by amalgamation with the native tribes, and -by the example of the advantages to be derived from fixed habits, and a -respect for rights to landed property, were gradually subduing and -civilizing the rude aboriginals; these could not from their habits be -easily extirpated, as they might retire to the mountains, or if there -pressed, find a safe retreat in the _land of dates_ behind; they were -moreover valuable as soldiers, and as carriers across the desert. The -other Phoenician colonies, though many of them were never subject to -Carthage, yet all acknowledged her as the head of their league, and she -relied upon their support, in case of invasion from abroad. But they -too were to be reduced, and gradually incorporated into the -Carthaginian empire; things were rapidly advancing towards this -consummation when Carthage fell. - -The other grand object of their policy was the subjection of the whole -country surrounding the western half of the Mediterranean, which was to -be carried on by the quiet and sure means of trading colonies, -established at convenient places on the coast. Thus, was the African -shore to the streights of Gibraltar, that of Spain, the south of Gaul -and the neighboring islands, dotted with colonies from Carthage, each -of which had a territory behind, constantly increasing in extent. To -support these establishments fleets were necessary, which could be -easily manned by a nation having so extensive a trade by sea, while the -native tribes of the interior furnished the hardiest soldiers. - -Yet with all this apparent strength, the feet of the Carthaginian -colossus were of clay; the wealth which enabled her to carry on this -system made offices venal, narrowed the minds of her citizens and -debased their character, while it excited the cupidity of her -neighbors. Mercenary troops she could hire, and was sure of their -fidelity while she paid them punctually; and with such, a general who -should succeed in gaining their confidence, might effect immense -results; but a succession of generals capable of doing this was not to -be expected; and a single defeat was likely to be attended by -depression and disorganization. She had, comparatively speaking, but -few citizens in her armies; but few persons who could be urged by -patriotism or interest in the public glory; and without such a class, -no nation can long sustain itself against extraordinary difficulties. -These defects would have ceased in time, when her possessions at home -had been consolidated, and the other cities had been reduced under her -government; but she was not destined to arrive at this point. - -The prosperity of the north African nations, did not fail to excite the -jealousy and cupidity of surrounding powers, and accordingly we find -that all the great conquerors of the East formed plans for their -subjection. The Persians after conquering Egypt sent an army which took -and plundered Cyrene, but retired without proceeding farther. But -another project was formed against their independence by a conqueror -the most sagacious and successful who has ever yet appeared. Among the -commentaries left by Alexander of Macedon, as recorded by Diodorus -Siculus, (_Book_ xviii. _Chap._ 1.) was found a project for the -"invasion and subjection of the Carthaginians, and others dwelling on -the coasts of Africa, Spain and the adjacent islands; for which a -thousand ships were to be built, in the ports of Phoenicia, Syria, -Cilicia and Cyprus, larger than those of three tiers of oars; with -directions for carrying a straight and easy road along the shore of the -Mediterranean, from Egypt to the Pillars of Hercules." With such an -armament, and such a leader, it is highly probable that the project -could have been carried into effect; the Grecian colonies already -acknowledged his power, he was therefore secure of finding friends in -the most difficult part of the country, either for naval or land -operations; and the efficiency of his political arrangements in all -other cases, does not permit us to doubt, that he would have founded in -north Africa, a permanent and substantial empire. But this was not to -be; Alexander died in the early summer of life, and of those who shared -his dominions, no one was alone able to carry such a project into -effect, and each was too much engaged in securing his own part, for any -operation to have been conducted in concert. - -While the designs of Carthage were advancing towards fulfilment, she -was gradually becoming a military state. Her fleets covered the sea, -often transporting a hundred and fifty thousand combatants, and her -armies of mercenary troops, led on by one of the most persevering and -ingenious leaders of whom we have any account, overran an immense -extent of territory, surmounting natural obstacles of the most -appalling character, and overthrowing enemies celebrated for their -skill and courage. But her commerce suffered, and the expenses of the -war exhausted her treasury. Of the other African cities, many had -declared and acted in favor of her enemies, while others were ready to -desert her when a favorable opportunity should offer. The native tribes -had acquired civilization sufficient to unite them, and to make them -aware of their own importance; their chieftains had become ambitious, -and Rome made offers to them which Carthage could never have advanced. - -In this conjuncture, her long absent and long victorious army was -recalled, to meet the enemy on her own shore; but Hannibal had grown -old, and was routed at Zama; during his absence a generation had arisen -which knew him not, and banishment succeeded his defeat. The once proud -republic had lost all, and consented to a treaty, the ruinous terms of -which she was forced to receive as a boon, and did not dare infringe. -Her navy being destroyed, Spain and her other conquests soon fell into -the hands of the Romans, and at length the decree went forth "Carthago -delenda est." The fate of this renowned city is well known. Within a -century from the day on which Hannibal sent home the spoils taken at -Cannæ, the banished Roman Marius sought refuge among the desolate ruins -of Carthage. - -The other Phoenician as well as the Greek colonies, submitted to the -conquerors on favorable terms; the chieftains of the wandering tribes -who had adhered to Rome, were rewarded by the titles of kings; and -enjoying the semblance of sovereignty over territories named by a -majority of the Roman Senate, served to keep each other, and the -cities, in check. In process of time, even this last shew of -independence disappeared, and the region of the Atlas finally became -one Roman province, under the appellation of Africa. - -As a part of the Roman dominions, Africa reached its highest state of -civilization; the cultivation of the land was carried to so great an -extent, that it was considered the granary of the Mediterranean, and -the cities on its coast were the depots of a most extensive trade with -the interior of the continent. Carthage arose with additional splendor -from her ruins, and for more than eight hundred years continued to be -the capital of the province. The inhabitants retained their former -characters; those of the coast were ingenious and industrious; fond of -luxury and not celebrated for their good faith or moral character; the -mountaineers kept up their reputation for courage, and we read of few -battles gained by the Roman arms without the assistance of Numidian -archers, or Mauritanian cavalry. Nor were the Africans excluded from -office, for we find three of them successively filling the Imperial -throne. They embraced christianity with the rest of the empire under -Constantine, and churches innumerable marked the fervor of their -devotion. Their religious zeal was farther shown in the bloody -controversy between the orthodox and the Donatists, which desolated the -country during the fifth and sixth centuries of our æra, and nearly -extinguished the light of civilization. The invasion of the Vandals -soon after inflicted another blow upon its prosperity; these barbarians -were however soon reduced to submission by Belisarius, and Africa -continued under the government of the emperors of Constantinople, until -the commencement of the eighth century. At this period the followers of -Mahomet every where successful in the East, turned their arms towards -the setting sun, and traversing the Desert which separated the Roman -province from Egypt, appeared before the frontier cities, presenting to -their astounded inhabitants the alternative of the Koran or the sword. - -Tripoli was the first country in the African province invaded by the -Saracens,[1] and in order that its subsequent history may be better -understood, it will be necessary to make a few observations on its -ancient condition, which could not well have been introduced before. - -[Footnote 1: It should here be noticed that the followers of Mahomet -were at first merely termed Arabians, but when their conquests extended -over Syria, Egypt, Mesopotamia, and other adjacent countries, they were -known by the more general name of Saracens, or _people of the East_, -from the Arabic and _Sharak_--meaning _East_. Africa was and still is -called by Asiatics, _El Magrab_, or the West; though in Barbary the -term is strictly confined to the Empire of Morocco. When Africa had -been overrun, and the same conquerors had passed into Spain, they were -termed Moors by Europeans, as coming from the ancient country of the -Mauri, although the generals, and probably the greater part of the -troops, were natives of Arabia.] - -In the narrow tract between the Mediterranean and the desert, westward -of the celebrated gulf called the Great Syrtis, and adjoining the -proper territory of their republic, the Carthaginians had at an early -period established several colonies, of which three, Leptis, Oea and -Sabrata acquired great importance as commercial stations under the -Romans, and the district containing them was called Tripolis, or the -Three Cities. Of these Leptis was the most eastern; and extensive ruins -still remain as evidences of its former greatness, in the little town -of Lebda, about seventy miles from Tripoli. Sabrata was at the western -extremity of the district, on the spot now occupied by a village called -Old Tripoli. - -Oea was situated between these two, on the western side of a small bay, -formed by the projection of a rocky point of land into the sea. A -triumphal arch dedicated to the emperors Marcus Aurelius, and Lucius -Verus, and considered the finest monument of that kind remaining, with -several other ancient relics, give reason to suppose that it may have -been a splendid city; and it is mentioned as such by Pliny, Strabo, and -some other writers of the latter days of the Roman empire. We however -learn nothing from them respecting its history; and in the year 647 of -the Christian æra, when the Saracens invaded Africa, Leptis and Sabrata -had sunk into comparative insignificance, while Oea had appropriated to -itself the name of the whole district, and was a large, wealthy and -strong city. The seat of government of the Roman, or rather Greek -dominions in Africa, continued to be Carthage, where resided the -emperor's Prefect or lieutenant; Utica, Hippo, and other ancient places -were still flourishing, and several had grown up to importance, whose -names do not appear in the pages of Roman history; of these the -principal were Sufetala, Bugia, and Tingi or Tangiers. - -The Saracens appeared before Tripoli in number forty thousand, under -Abdallah, governor of Egypt, and Zobeir a distinguished soldier; but -the strength of its walls baffled the attempts of enemies totally -unacquainted with the art of besieging, and enabled its inhabitants to -remain secure, until an immense army had been collected by the Prefect -for its relief. It at length appeared, and actions daily took place, in -which nothing was decided in favor of either party. Gregory the Prefect -fought with gallantry, attended in the field by his daughter; yet this -example was not sufficient to encourage his troops, although they far -outnumbered their enemies; and as a last effort, he proclaimed that his -daughter's hand with a hundred thousand pieces of gold, should be the -reward for the head of the Saracen general. Thus excited, the African -youths took courage, and Abdallah considering his own person as too -important to be exposed to such dangers, remained during the ensuing -action in his tent; but he was soon shamed from this retreat by the -fiery Zobeir, who insisted upon his replying to Gregory's proclamation, -by promising the lady and a similar reward for the head of the Prefect. - -This promise restored to the Saracens their former courage and vigor, -and in another action Gregory was slain by Zobeir, in his daughter's -presence, and she herself became a prisoner. Thus far we have materials -for the commencement of a romance, but the sequel throws a doubt over -the charms of the lady, or the gallantry of the hero; for Zobeir -received her and her dowry with ascetic coldness, declaring that "he -labored for a recompense far above the charms of beauty or the riches -of this transitory life." The Africans dispirited by these losses, at -length gladly purchased a precarious peace and the retreat of the -Arabs, at the price of a sum equal to about six millions of dollars. - -This act of submission on their part, brought upon them the ire of -their despotic masters at Constantinople, who instead of assisting them -to repair their forces in anticipation of another attack, loaded them -with taxes, as a penalty for their pusillanimity. By such treatment -they were reduced to despair; and when in 668 the Arabs again crossed -the Desert under Bashar, they were hailed as deliverers; and the great -mass of the inhabitants threw off not only the government, but the -religion of their Greek oppressors, and submitted to those of the -Caliph of Damascus. Africa had suffered severely in the religious wars -occasioned by the schism of Donatus; and since those sectarians had -been put down, or rather extirpated, the utmost tyranny had been -exercised in affairs of religion by the haughty and unrelenting -hierarchy. From this circumstance perhaps, their creed hung but lightly -on the lower orders, being associated in their minds with stripes and -fines; otherwise it is difficult to account for so sudden and extensive -a change, of which history no where else offers an example. Thus -favored, the march of the Saracens was a continued triumph: a -reinforcement arrived, and under the command of the energetic Akbah, -nearly the whole country was subdued. Carthage was besieged, they -having by this time learnt the use of engines and the art of mining; -Tripoli, Utica, Sufetala, Bugia and the wealthy Tangiers were stormed -and plundered; and the fierce conqueror rushed into the Atlantic, -crying, "This sea alone arrests my progress." - -The christian powers of Europe beheld the conquests of the Mahometans -with dread, and a combination was formed among them for the recovery of -Africa. Expeditions were sent from Constantinople, Sicily and Spain, -which united under the command of John the Patrician, a renowned -Captain, proceeded to the relief of Carthage. Before they arrived, that -city had fallen; they however recovered it, and instantly gave battle -to the enemy, under the walls of Utica. The christians were totally -defeated, and the small remains of their army took refuge in the ships, -and abandoned the country. The Roman power was every where overthrown; -Carthage, retaken by the Arabs, was razed to the ground; and fifty -miles south of it was founded a new city, called Kairuan, which was -long the capital of Africa, the seat of Mahometan splendor and learning -in that quarter. - -But the invaders received a new check from a direction whence it was -least to be expected. The sea coast as we have observed, although much -reduced in point of wealth and refinement, by the excesses of the -Vandals and the religious wars, was still a cultivated region, -supporting a numerous population, the descendants of the Greeks, -Phoenicians and Romans. But the mountains and the country behind them -remained in possession of the aboriginal race, who under the name of -Berbers, retained their old pastoral and predatory habits, and were a -constant source of trouble to the foreign rulers of the province. Among -these people appeared a female named Cahina, of extraordinary courage -and address, who persuaded them that she was inspired, and that an -opportunity was offered for regaining possession of the country. An -immense multitude were thus speedily assembled under her banner, -equally daring and enthusiastic with the Saracens, who were attacked -with an impetuosity never before displayed against them in Africa. -Success encouraged the mountaineers, and in an incredibly short space -of time the invaders were driven into Egypt. This being effected, the -prophetess proposed to take away all inducement for their return, by -laying waste the country. Her proposal was readily assented to by -persons who had no property but their tents, flocks and horses; and -dreadful were the consequences of this determination. The fertile -territory was made desolate, and the splendor of civilization, already -much dimmed by the fury of Vandals and religionists, was entirely -obscured. The unfortunate inhabitants of the coast, thus pressed on all -sides, in their despair, invited the Saracens to return, and aided by -them, made head against their savage destroyers. In the first battle -the Berbers were totally routed, and their queen slain; this bond of -union being destroyed, they were soon dispersed, or reduced to slavery. - -The Arab power was now undisputed; in a very short period there were no -more christians to be taxed. The few remaining churches became mosques; -all traces of former manners and institutions disappeared; and a -torrent of Asiatics overflowed the country, establishing in every part -their own customs and language. Of the Arabs many betook themselves to -the Desert, where their descendants still wander, scarcely -distinguishable from their brethren of the Arabian sands. The others -gradually amalgamated with the natives, and at the present day, the -fixed inhabitants of Barbary form one race, differing but little among -themselves in appearance, habits or language, and known to Europeans by -the general name of Moors. The mountains and the borders of the Desert -are still possessed by tribes speaking a language totally distinct from -all others known--nominally professing the Mahometan religion, but -regardless of its precepts--dwelling in tents, and wandering from -pasture to pasture with their flocks and herds--displaying the same -fierce and indomitable character which distinguished the aboriginals, -from whom they are in all probability descended. The most powerful of -these tribes are the Kabyles, who principally inhabit the territory of -Algiers, where by their impetuous inroads, they present the greatest -bar to the establishment of the French. - -Africa was scarcely possessed by the Saracens, ere those restless -conquerors passed over to Spain. Their character seems however to have -been already softened; for we no longer find among the Moorish invaders -of the peninsula, the fierce barbarism of the early followers of -Mahomet; and the kingdoms which they founded in that delightful land, -were celebrated for the industry, ingenuity and cultivation of their -inhabitants. The Moors of Spain soon threw off their allegiance to the -Caliphs in the East; and two independent kingdoms were also founded in -Atlantic Barbary. In 790, Edris-ben Abdallah, governor of Almagrab, _or -the West_, which name was applied to the ancient Mauritania, assumed -the title of Sultan of Fez, from his capital city; his successors ruled -supreme over Western Africa, until the middle of the eleventh century, -when the Almoravides, a fanatic sect, obtained possession of the -southern part, and established the kingdom of Maraksh, or Morocco. -These two principalities now form the empire of Morocco. Eastern -Barbary in the gradual dismemberment of the Arabian dominions, first -became one kingdom under a family of sovereigns called the Aglabites, -who for some time reigned with great splendor at Kairuan, they were -overthrown in 909, by an expedition from Sicily, then a Saracen -province, and the country was for nearly six hundred years after, ruled -or ravaged by various dynasties. - -At length, towards the commencement of the sixteenth century, the -Moorish kingdoms in Spain were overthrown, and a rage for conquests in -Africa pervaded the Peninsula. Eastward of Morocco and Fez, Barbary was -at that time divided into a number of small principalities, each -consisting of a strong town with as much of the surrounding country as -it could keep in subjection; the principal of them were Algiers, Bugia, -Oran, Tunis, Telemsen and Tripoli. Against these places numerous -expeditions were sent out from Spain which generally proved fruitless; -however, some places on the coast were taken, among which was Tripoli, -or Trablis, as it was then called. It fell into the hands of Ferdinand, -the Catholic, in 1510; but his more politic successor, the emperor -Charles the Fifth, probably not knowing what else to do with places so -inconvenient, surrendered it twelve years afterwards, with the adjacent -island of Malta, to the knights of St. John, who had just then been -expelled from Rhodes by the mighty Sultan Solyman. Malta was a barren -rock, and Tripoli had sunk from its former greatness, little remaining -but its walls, its castle and its port. Both places were however -capable of being strongly fortified, and the knights required nothing -else; they therefore accepted the assignments, and applied all their -energies to render their new habitations capable of resisting the -shocks to which they would soon inevitably be exposed. - -The Turkish power was at this period in the zenith of its prosperity, -and Europe again trembled as in the days of the immediate successors of -Mahomet. The Mediterranean was swept by innumerable cruisers under its -flag, commanded by daring and ferocious captains, who completely -destroyed the commerce of christians in that sea, and made frequent -descents on the coasts of Italy, Spain and the islands, which they -plundered, carrying off the inhabitants for the purpose of extorting a -ransom. Of these the most famous were Urudsch or Horuc, and his brother -Chaireddin, successively dreaded in their day by the appellation of -Barbarossa, or the _red beard_. - -Urudsch being anxious to have some port in the Western Mediterranean, -to which he could at intervals retire with his booty and prisoners, -offered his assistance to the prince of Algiers, who was endeavoring to -regain his possessions from the Spaniards; and no sooner had he -effected this, than he seized upon the city, murdered his confiding -ally, and declared the country subject to the Porte. On his death, -which soon after happened, his brother Chaireddin assumed the command -and succeeded in expelling the Spaniards from a small island, close to -the city called Algesr or _the island_ which they had for some time -held; he then connected it with the main land by a causeway, and thus -formed the present port of Algiers, which takes its name from the -island. He was afterwards regularly invested by the Porte, with the -title and powers of a Pasha, or viceroy; and obtaining large additions -to his army, composed entirely of foreigners, he reduced the country to -subjection. - -This being effected Chaireddin turned his attention to the neighboring -state of Tunis, against which he prepared a powerful armament, -nominally for the purpose of reinstating its exiled prince Alraschid; -under this pretence, he easily gained the capital, which he instantly -declared to form a part of the Turkish empire. Alraschid died a -prisoner in Constantinople; but Muley Hascem, whom Barbarossa had -driven out, applied for assistance to Charles the fifth, which was -readily granted, and that emperor himself commanded the expedition -against Tunis. It appeared before the city on the 19th of July, 1535, -consisting of five hundred vessels, bearing thirty thousand veteran -troops. Barbarossa was not taken unawares, and the conflict was -terrible; the celebrated fortress of the Goletta, which commands the -entrance into the bay of Tunis, was defended with great bravery, by -Sinan a renegade Jew, but it soon fell before the artillery of the -fleet, and Tunis lay exposed. Chaireddin assembled his forces, and gave -battle to the invaders; but he was totally defeated, and the outbreak -of ten thousand christian captives from the prisons of the city, -increased the confusion; the Turkish army fled to Bona, and Tunis was -instantly stormed by the imperial troops. Muley Hascem was restored to -his throne, on terms most favorable to the christians; but in a few -years more, we find the Turkish power again established, and this -country continued to be governed by Pashas, from Constantinople, until -1684, when a certain Hassan-ben-Ali obtained sovereign possession, and -his family have ever since held the crown under the title of Bey, -paying however a tribute to the Sultan. - -Charles the fifth was so much elated by his success at Tunis, that he -led another expedition in 1541, against Algiers, which was governed by -Hascen Aga, Barbarossa having been elevated to the office of Capoudan -Pasha, or High Admiral. The imperial troops landed at a short distance -east of the city; but immediately after there arose one of those -terrific storms of wind and rain, to which that coast is subject in the -autumn; the troops unprovided as yet with tents, were drenched in rain, -their ammunition was spoiled, and they were thrown into confusion at -the first onset of the Turks. The ships were many of them lost, others -dismasted or driven on shore, and the Emperor, after great personal -hardships, made his escape with a small remnant of his gallant force. - -The unfortunate issue of this attack probably contributed more than any -other circumstance to the long impunity enjoyed by Algiers, which -continued until within a few years past to insult the rest of the world -by its piracies, and had come to be considered as absolutely -impregnable. It was governed at first by a Pasha, appointed from -Constantinople in the same manner with other parts of the empire; but -in time, the garrison were permitted to elect their own chief, subject -however to the confirmation of the Porte, which was never refused as -the request was always accompanied by a present. The garrison and all -the officers of the government were foreigners; no native even though -the son of Turkish parents, being eligible to any; and no where else -probably in the world would have been found such a collection of -abandoned miscreants. The chief was in reality a Pasha of three tails, -or viceroy of almost unlimited powers--his peculiar appellation being -derived from his enjoying the right of having three horse-tails borne -before him in public. In the christian world he was usually known by -the appellation of _Dey_, which word however means _uncle_ in Moorish, -and was perhaps originally a nickname; it was never applied in Algiers. -No prince or officer ever held his place by a more precarious tenure; -seldom has one died a natural death, and it is certain that the ex-Dey, -Hussein, who surrendered the city to the French, is the only one who -could have said "I was once Pasha of Algiers." - -Tripoli remained in possession of the knights of St. John until 1551, -when they were attacked by a Turkish army under the command of the same -Sinan, who had defended the Goletta against Charles the fifth, aided by -the squadron of Dragut a noted captain, in character similar to the -Barbarossas. The besieged conducted their defence with great gallantry, -but the town being burnt, they were forced to take refuge in the -castle, which they continued to hold out in hopes of relief from -Europe. But none came; the Seigneur d'Aramont, while on his way as -ambassador to Constantinople from Henry the second of France, stopped -at Tripoli and endeavored to obtain a suspension of the siege, until -some arrangement could be made with the Porte; but this proposition was -rejected by Sinan, who was sure of his prey; and all, that the -ambassador succeeded in procuring, was a capitulation on more favorable -terms, which being accepted, the governor John de Vallier surrendered -the castle, on the 16th of August, 1651, and retired to Malta. Dragut -took possession of the place which he rebuilt and strengthened; and -having been declared Pasha, established a system of government, similar -to that of Algiers; it was however more dependant on the Porte, the -chief being always appointed from Constantinople. - -The states of Barbary thus became reduced in number to four, viz: the -independent empire of Morocco in the west, and the regencies, as they -are termed, of Algiers, Tunis and Tripoli, under the suzerainty of the -Sultan. Several places were taken and held at different periods by -Spain; for instance Oran, which was surrendered to Algiers in 1792, -after having been held since its capture in 1510 by the famous cardinal -Ximenes; and Ceuta a strong place nearly opposite Gibraltar, which is -still subject to Spain, and serves chiefly as a place of imprisonment -for political delinquents.--These states occasionally carried on some -commerce among themselves, or with Europe and Asia; but their principal -support was derived from piracy. Their cruisers were generally small -vessels, crowded with desperate ruffians, who succeeded chiefly by -boarding, either directly from the decks, or by the aid of boats; thus -their prizes were but little injured, and were sold profitably in -Barbary, whilst the crews were retained in slavery, unless redeemed at -a high ransom. To preserve their citizens from this horrible fate, many -commercial nations were obliged to pay enormous sums as presents to the -governments of these countries, which regarded no treaties while this -was neglected. It is, however, to the honor of the United States, that -our government opposed these demands, as soon as it was in a condition -to render resistance effectual; and it was while successfully employed -in humbling these audacious pirates, that our cannon were first heard -in the Mediterranean. - -The length of this article renders its entire insertion in this number -impossible,--it will however be concluded in our next. - - - - - For the Southern Literary Messenger. - -THE DYSPEPTIC MAN. - - -MR. WHITE,--I am so unfortunate as to be the wife of a dyspeptic man, -and shall find some relief if you will permit me to spread my -complaints upon the pages of your Messenger. Men are "_April when they -woo, December when they wed_," as I have found to my cost. My husband -was once as tender and affectionate as I could wish, but poor man he is -now totally changed; I suppose it is owing to his having the dyspepsia. -He is so peevish and fretful I hardly dare speak to him; - - "He's always compleenin frae mornin to e'enin;" - -and it is impossible to keep pace with the endless variety of his -aliments. If I happen to make a mistake and inquire after the wrong -pain, he flies into a violent passion and reproaches me for a want of -sympathy in his sufferings. It was but yesterday I happened to say, my -dear how is the pain in your back? [I had forgotten it was his side.] -This was enough; he cursed matrimony and swore it was the vilest of all -institutions; that a wife was nothing more than a legalized tormentor; -that if he were single, he would not marry any woman under the sun--no, -not if she had a bulse of diamonds torn from a Begum's ear, and much -more in the same strain; and at last cooling down, he asked me if I did -not remember that his last pain was a pain in the side, and then -entered into such a history of his malady, that I sorely regretted I -had opened my lips upon the subject. What right have we to worry other -people thus with our maladies? I never tell mine to any but the doctor, -because I know that nobody else listens, and I doubt very much whether -_he_ does half his time. If any one gives my husband the common -salutation of how d'ye do? oh dear, he begins at the beginning of his -disease, [like an old gentleman of my acquaintance who always begins at -the Revolution,] and traces it down through all its variations for the -last five years--tells all the remedies he has used and their effects, -until you may see a half suppressed smile lurking about the lips of the -interrogator, which increases at length to so broad a grin, that I am -in agony for the consequences. He has tried in turn every remedy of -every quack upon earth, and has gone so far as to punch himself almost -to death with his _own fists_, by the advice of one Halsted. At first -he is always pleased with the medicine, but at the end of two or three -days he protests that he is worse, much worse; and vents his spleen -upon the physic, the inventor, and upon me for permitting him to use -such vile trash. Sometimes he comes to me and tells me exultingly that -he has at last found out the panacea--the grand catholicon for all his -sufferings. "My dear B----," he will say, "let me explain to you the -philosophy of this matter. When food is taken into the human stomach, -if it cannot undergo a proper digestion it goes through the -putrefactive process; just such a process as would take place in animal -or other substances, if exposed to the action of heat and moisture in -the open air: a quantity of carbonic acid gas is disengaged, and this -gas filling the stomach acts by mechanical pressure, and thus produces -the pain I feel. Now I have discovered that in consequence of my habit -of eating fast, my food is not sufficiently _triturated_, and of course -the gastric juice [heaven help me!] cannot act upon it; and I am -exactly in the situation of the sheep or any other ruminating animal, -who swallows the herbage whole, and then _regurgitates_, that it may -undergo a better mastication. Well what then is the remedy? I will tell -you; I will make John pound my food in a mortar, which will supply the -necessary trituration, and thus I shall be a well man." He sent off -immediately to a druggist and purchased a nice little wedge-wood -mortar, and there stood John every day behind his chair, pounding his -meat, bread and vegetables, into a revolting mass, until my poor ears -were well nigh deafened with the shrill din of the pestle against the -sides of the mortar. Was ever woman so beset? At the end of a week, -finding himself no better, he threw the mortar, pestle and all at -John's head, and would certainly have pounded _him_ to death but for a -fortunate dodge, which permitted the mortar to come in contact with my -china press, where it made sad havoc among my most valuable ware. He -was very glad he said, because I had no business to let the press stand -there. It was on the tip of my tongue to say, "bray a fool in a -mortar," &c., but I checked the impulse, and mildly said, I was very -sorry indeed that he could get no relief. This somewhat mollified him, -and the next day he came to me and apologized for what he had done, and -promised to repair the damage by making me a handsome present; but this -calm was of short duration, for he soon relapsed into gloom--and as he -sat by the fire smoking his pipe, he all at once declared that it must -have been the cursed tobacco which had poisoned his existence; that -during the combustion of the tobacco an oil was disengaged, which -mixing with the saliva, was taken up by absorption into his lungs, and -had eaten them to a honeycomb. John was immediately called: "Here," -said he, "John, take this pipe, and d'ye hear sir, hide it--hide it -where I never can find it again." John accordingly took the pipe, but -struggled in vain to choke his laughter. Before he could escape from -the room, he burst out into such a loud, distinct, irrepressible ha! -ha! that there was no mistaking the thing, and he was soundly caned for -his involuntary breach of decorum. About three days after this, in the -evening after tea, my husband's favorite time for smoking, I observed -him very restless indeed; he rose, walked about the room, sat down, -whistled, hummed a tune, and rose again. At last he began to rummage -about the wainscoat and mantlepiece, and behind the book case, and -suddenly turning round he called John in a softened voice; "John, my -good fellow, where is my pipe? I must have left it in the study; do go -and look for it." John hesitated and grinned.--"What the devil is the -fellow laughing at? Begone sir, and bring my pipe immediately." John -speedily vanished. Turning to me, you see, said my husband, my unhappy -condition; my very servants turn me into ridicule, and you do not -reprove them for it. I could not reply, but felt anxious to point out -to him that he could never hope to be well, because he would not adhere -for a space of time sufficiently long to any plan whatever. His scheme -now is to eat nothing but cold bread. It must be set away in a pure -place to _ripen_, as he calls it. Hot bread just from the oven he says -is giving out carbon continually, and has not imbibed a sufficiency of -oxygen to make it wholesome. Can you forbear smiling my friend? Now I -know that there is nothing of literature in all this, unless the -chemical disquisitions of my wretched husband may be so considered; but -nevertheless I flatter myself you will give me a place in your -Messenger, because many a victim of dyspepsia may look in this mirror -and see himself. - -BELINDA. - - - - -BEAUTIFUL EXTRACT FROM LACON. - - -Posthumous fame is a plant of tardy growth, for our body must be the -seed of it; or we may liken it to a torch, which nothing but the last -spark of life can light up; or we may compare it to the trumpet of the -archangel, for it is blown over the dead: but unlike that awful blast, -it is of earth, not of heaven, and can neither rouse nor raise us. - - - - - For the Southern Literary Messenger. - -THE REPORTER'S STORY, - -OR THE IMPORTANCE OF A SINGLE SYLLABLE. - - -How much may depend on a single syllable! What direful consequences may -be produced by the suppression of even the smallest component part of a -word!--Gentle reader, be as patient as you are gentle, and the perusal -of the following _true_ story will convince you of the correctness of -these exclamatory positions. - -Late in the autumn of 1826, I left the city of New York in a steamboat -for Philadelphia, on my way to Washington, where I was to perform the -arduous, if not very dignified duty, of reporter of debates in the -Senate of the United States, for the leading journal of that -metropolis. My wife accompanied me, and on stepping on board the Swan, -(so was our steamboat justly called,) we found ourselves elbowed and -jostled by a throng of travellers from various parts of the Union, -wending their way, in most instances, to the capitol. - -When the steamer had left the wharf, and the haste and bustle of the -moment had ceased, I had time to inspect the countenances of the crowd, -and recognized with much pleasure, the single familiar face of an -officer of the treasury department, with whom I had formed a partial -intimacy during a former visit at Washington. We met with much -cordiality, and soon became engaged in recalling our recollections of -past events. - -My friend, it appeared, was personally and officially known to several -individuals of our company; and without the formality of introduction, -I soon found myself on easy travelling terms with four or five genteel -looking men. Among these, the only persons necessary to mention, were a -member of the House of Representatives from Massachusetts, whom I -choose to designate as Mr. C.; another from a neighboring state, who -will be sufficiently known to the reader as Mr. D.; and a young naval -officer, whose name, if he had one, I have forgotten. - -A free and easy, gossiping conversation was kept up with considerable -vivacity by this group of strangers, the topics of which were various. -Politics and theatricals predominated--New York was then, as she is -now, the focus of both. The election of De Witt Clinton for the last -time, as governor of the state, over a young and popular candidate, -supported by the fragments of several exploded parties--the rising -importance of the anti-masonic party--the Italian Opera, and Signorina -Garcia, then in great vogue--the last appearance of Edmund Kean, after -his fatal frolic in Canada, and the first appearance of Macready, who -had just then made his debut on the American stage, to surprise and -puzzle the people by a style as new as it was polished and severe. Such -subjects beguiled the hours--and as I had long been almost as -conversant with the green room as the editor's closet, I was enabled to -contribute my full share to the gossip of our little coterie. - -My Massachusetts acquaintance was a stout, well built, middle-aged man, -with a bold and open countenance, which expressed good humor, and not a -little self complacency. It seemed as if one could read on that face -the conviction of its owner, that he was born to be a member of -congress, a great man, and a clever fellow. A travelling cap, worn -carelessly, or rather with a careful affectation of negligence, on one -side of his head, and a slight rattan, which he twirled with a -practised hand, evinced a determination on his part to appear to the -very best advantage. Without these, and other affectations, which I -observed in Mr. C., no one could have mistaken him for other than a -well bred gentleman. His attempts to enforce the acknowledgment of the -character by aping the airs of fashionable folly, might cause a -momentary doubt, whether the whole was not affected. We often perceive -similar mistakes in ambitious men brought up in seclusion--but in the -present instance, a stranger was soon undeceived by the conversation of -Mr. C., which gave assurance of a cultivated mind, and the habit of -associating with the learned and the intellectual. - -The characteristics of the other lawgiver to whom I have alluded, were -less complicated. His was a face as black as night. His beard, -whiskers, hair and eyes were coal black--the latter small and piercing. -No other feature was worth noticing, and the whole taken together, -formed, if not an _ugly_ countenance, one which came very nearly up to -that epithet. His dress was a pepper-and-salt frock, vest and trowsers, -and his hat had evidently passed its prime. In manners he was the -opposite of Mr. C. There was a bluntness in his remarks, and a -sharpness and brevity in his replies, entirely unaffected, but not -altogether pleasing. On a partial acquaintance, you had such doubts of -him as you would entertain of a partly tamed _bruin_. - -The young naval officer was like all _young_ naval officers, with a -dash of spirit which he seemed solicitous to display--a stiffness of -deportment which evinced that the thoughts of discipline could not -easily be shaken off, and an apparent consciousness of the admiration -to which his profession and his _dress_ entitled him from people of -every degree. Nevertheless, he was agreeable, and condescended, most -benevolently, to mingle in the conversation with those around him. - -Passing the time between these companions, and an occasional peep into -the ladies' cabin to see that nothing was wanting to the comfort of my -wife, (who was deterred by the chilliness of the atmosphere, from -joining me on deck) the journey was uncommonly agreeable, until we -reached Philadelphia. At that city my treasury friend left us, not so -much regretted as he deserved to be, because his place was supplied by -the new companions to whom I have alluded. - -We were shortly transferred to another steamboat, in which, after about -two hours' delay, we proceeded to New Castle. A change of considerable -extent had taken place in our company. We had lost many faces to which -we had been familiar during the morning--and we had gained many others -which wore the first gloss of newness. I have already said that I had -not been formally introduced to the gentlemen whose acquaintance had -been pressed upon me--yet we had learned each other's names, and used -them with freedom. Probably I was the only _incognito_ among them--the -only man whose profession was unknown, and therefore the only one -liable to doubt or misconception. But of such a chance I did not then -dream. - -Among the new passengers were two ladies, one quite young, although the -mother of two or three children. She was pretty, and, as I afterwards -found, very talkative. The other was a matron more advanced in years, -and with a still larger number of children. Her dress was half -mourning, her manner grave and lady-like. With these ladies I perceived -that my wife had entered into conversation on their first arrival on -board, and my occasional visits to the cabin shewed me that their -gossip, was kept up with much spirit. Returning from one of these -calls, a strange gentleman addressed me, and asked if my name was -S----; I replied in the affirmative, and after a very civil preface, he -requested, (as I was the only gentleman with a lady on board,) that I -would give my protection to a female acquaintance of his and her -family, who were on their way to Washington. He observed that he should -go no farther than Baltimore, and from that place he would be obliged -to me to take charge of them. I readily assented: we went to the -ladies' cabin, where I was introduced with all due form, to Mrs. M., -the elder and graver of the two ladies already mentioned. She had made -herself acquainted with my wife, and all parties seemed pleased with -the arrangement. - -On going above, I found my friends, the two members of congress and the -naval officer, laying plans for a game of whist on board the Trenton -steamboat, which was to take us from Frenchtown. I was asked to make -one of the party, and assented. A few hours brought us to New Castle, -where stages were in readiness to transport us across the isthmus, to -Frenchtown--for it must be remembered, that there was then neither -canal or rail road between the two points. - -As the oldest passengers, I presume, my wife and I were seated in stage -No. 1, with a motley group of persons. Not one of our newly formed -acquaintances were with us, and in our carriage there was not an -individual with whom five minutes conversation could be sustained. I -made repeated efforts to arouse our fellow passengers, but after -receiving each time a monosyllabic rebuff,--a crusty yes or no, as the -case might be,--I relinquished the attempt, and confined my endeavors -to make myself agreeable to my good woman, who gave me an amusing -detail of a conversation while on board the steamboat, between herself -and the younger of the two ladies to whom I have already referred. Mrs. -R., as my wife informed me, had favored her with a detailed history of -her family, her husband, children and herself, with all things -thereunto appertaining, even down to the fashion of her last new -bonnet. Having thus exhausted herself by this unsolicited confession, -or as the Scotch say, having "made a clean breast," she remained -silent, apparently expecting a similar display of frankness from her -auditress. But my wife did not readily recognize the principle of -reciprocity in such cases--and accordingly gave the conversation a -different turn. This, however, failed to meet the views of the -communicative lady. Nothing short of mutual confidence seemed to tally -with her notions of politeness to strangers. And finding that my wife -still hung back, she proceeded to cross-examine her upon her domestic -affairs, family connexions, and most closely on my objects and pursuits -in life, and purpose in visiting the capitol at this season. To all -these questions my wife answered briefly, but truly, although with -reluctance. - -I was much diverted at this novel specimen of female curiosity, and the -tactics observed in its gratification. It appeared to me uncommonly -_equitable_--for what could evince greater fairness than to prelude an -investigation of the private affairs of your neighbor, by a voluntary -detail of your own. - -About eight in the evening, we reached Frenchtown, where our supper was -waiting on board the Trenton. Having despatched the meal with a good -appetite, and the ladies having withdrawn for the evening, the -engagement for a game of whist occurred to me. I had not, up to that -time, observed any one of our party, and I set out to collect them -together for our match. - -I first encountered Mr. C. pacing up and down the cabin with great -gravity. Walking up to him, I reminded him of the game of whist, -proposing that we should collect our party. To my great surprise, the -manner of the man towards me was entirely changed. He gave me a glance -which looked exceedingly like contempt--replied to my question with a -rude and hasty negative, and turned upon his heel. - -I was astonished, as well I might be, at receiving a cut direct from a -man, who but a few hours before had lavished upon me so large a share -of familiarity and attention. I was chagrined at his contemptuous -manner, and I was puzzled to divine its cause. Indeed, my perplexity -was far greater than my chagrin. - -While I was pondering the matter, I caught a glimpse of my other -congressional friend Mr. D., at some distance from me. I went to meet -him, and put to him the same question I had addressed to Mr. C. As I -spoke, he wheeled partly round, fixed his small black eye upon me for a -moment, with a scrutinizing glance, and without vouchsafing one word in -reply, wheeled back into his former position, and walked from me with a -stateliness and decision of step, which precluded any farther -conference. There could be no mistake in this. It was the _ne plus -ultra_ of _cutting_. It was more than the cut direct--it was the _cut_ -irrevocable, immutable, eternal! - -Good heavens, said I internally--what can this mean? - - Is it the moon ---- - That comes more near to us than she was wont, - And makes men mad? - -If, thought I, the young "Middie" plays me the same game, it will be -evident that they act in concert. It is worth testing--and _apropos_ to -the thought, he just then passed quite near me. I assumed as much ease -as the circumstances of the case would permit, (for it will not be -thought remarkable that I had been considerably disconcerted)--and -reminded him of our contemplated game of whist. He looked at me with -cool indifference, as though he had never seen me before in his life, -observed that a party could not be made up, and, waiting no further -question, passed me, whistling some naval air, and looking in another -direction. - -This last rebuff completed my indignation and perplexity. But it was an -evil which must be borne,--for however annoying I might find such -treatment--the caprice of strangers in being at one moment as familiar -as old friends, and withdrawing their familiarity at the next, was not -good argument for a quarrel. I could have no claim for satisfaction or -explanation, on an individual to whom I had not been formally -introduced, and with whom my intimacy was of less than twelve hours -standing, for choosing - - -------- "to face me out of his acquaintance, - And grow a twenty years removed thing - While one could wink." - -I had schooled myself to patience under these undeserved inflictions, -and was preparing to retire, when I was called to the door of the -ladies' cabin by the waiting maid--and met there my wife, who seemed in -a state of tribulation not inferior to my own. She said that since our -arrival on board the steamboat, the two ladies who had been previously -so kind and social, had scarcely noticed her, and had repelled every -attempt at a renewal of former civilities; in truth, that she had been -treated by her companions in much the same manner as I had been by -mine. This was an additional mystery. How could it happen that -contumely and disrespect were cast upon us from parties who were -strangers, having no connexion with each other? The mystery seemed -unfathomable, and after wearying myself with vain endeavors to conceive -some adequate cause for the altered conduct of our fellow travellers, I -fell asleep, and dreamed of myriads of self-important members of -congress, and self-admiring naval officers. - -We found ourselves at the wharf at Baltimore in the morning, and in the -scramble to disengage our baggage from the mass heaped upon deck, (to -which every traveller is premonished by the oft-repeated advertisement -that "baggage is at the risk of the owner")--I met my whilom friends, -but without the slightest token of recognition on either side. The -talkative lady looked grave when I approached her, and was silent, ("an -excellent thing in woman")--the older matron, to whom I was to act as -protector for the remainder of her journey, shrunk from me as I -advanced with the salutation of the morning; and when all was prepared -for our departure from the steamboat, she declined my proffered arm, as -I conducted her to the carriage. To my wife she was equally -distant,--nor did a sumptuous breakfast at Barnum's, break the ice of -her reserve, or rather, her aversion. Certainly, thus far, our society -did not promise to be agreeable on either side. The lady kept as far -aloof from us as circumstances would allow, avoiding every opportunity -of conversation--and we were soon as silent as she, from a mingled -feeling of pride and resentment. We embarked in a stage about -mid-day--the roads was infamous, the weather chilly and obscure. We had -the carriage to ourselves, and the ride was therefore the more gloomy, -as among a promiscuous party we might have found some one willing to -cheer the way by conversation: but as we were situated with our -taciturn companion, excepting in an occasional colloquy with the -driver, our organs of speech were unemployed, and during the greater -part of our journey, we might have been taken for a party of mutes. As -we drew near to Washington, this reserve wore away in a measure. -Whether the lady's tongue became impatient of so long a period of -inaction, or whether her assumed dignity gave way under a requisition -upon it too great for its power--I know not. Certain it is, that she -occasionally deigned a remark, and sometimes condescended to put -interrogatories to me, relative to the distance to the city, and -similar grave matters. - -It was dark when we arrived. I had ordered the coachman to set me down -at Brown's--but I was informed that there was not a vacant room in the -house, and also that every other hotel in the city was full. This -overflow of company as I afterwards ascertained was caused by the -assemblage at Washington of the Chesapeake and Ohio Canal Convention, -adding some hundreds to the ordinary visiters of the period. To add to -the discomfort of wanting lodgings, it was raining with great violence, -and I dreaded a drive through the interminable streets of the federal -metropolis. Our lady companion had observed that she was to be dropped -at the residence of some relative, and moreover stated that it was a -boarding house. But she avoided proposing that we should quarter with -her; and not until I had seen her safely within the house, and was -returning to the stage, did she mention our plight to her relative. The -latter was immediately urgent that we should remain at her house, -declaring that she had several unoccupied rooms, which were entirely at -our disposal. - -This new position of affairs was highly gratifying, and we anticipated -all the comforts of a good supper, and comfortable lodgings, with a -satisfaction which can best be conceived by those to whom those -commodities have, at times, been wanting. My wife was safely seated in -the well warmed dining room, the baggage deposited in the hall,--and I -took the opportunity afforded by a delay in the appearance of supper, -to step across the street, and inform the gentlemen with whom I was -engaged, of my arrival, which was a day or two later than they had -anticipated. On my return to the boarding house, to my utter -astonishment, I saw my wife standing at the street door, in her bonnet -and cloak, while my trunks were piled upon the steps. - -Hey dey, said I, what does all this mean--why are you not warming -yourself at the fire, instead of standing here muffled up, as if your -journey was now to commence instead of being ended? - -We cannot remain, said she, in a tone of chagrin. - -Cannot! What is the reason? Are the people mad here, as well as on the -road? - -It would seem so. I had scarcely been five minutes in the house, when -the landlady, who was at first so eager that we should lodge with her, -changed her mind, and informed me that she could not accommodate us. - -But she will not turn us out supperless, I hope, such a night as this? - -I am not so certain of that. She appears to be infected with the same -disease under which all our travelling companions have labored. People -seem actually to avoid us as though we carried the plague about in our -garments. She bowed me out of the dining room with as little ceremony -as she would have shewn to a mendicant. - -Well, well, said I, come in out of the air, and I will reason with her. -So saying I led the way to the principal apartment in the house, which -served as parlor, drawing room, and dining room--where the landlady -soon made her appearance. She was a small, thin-faced woman, her form -wiry and attenuated; her motions rapid and nervous; countenance much -wrinkled, and of most forbidding expression, and a voice from which no -art could have extracted a sound bearing the remotest relationship to -harmony. Her dress was evidently suited to the season, when members of -congress are seeking quarters for the winter, and when those who have -them at disposal, are interested in putting the best possible face on -every thing appertaining to their establishments. Her costume was, a -silk frock, stretched upon her bony frame, and a yellow gauze turban, -of monstrous size, decked with crimson ribbons, perched upon the top of -her head, which thus seemed enveloped in "fire and brimstone:"--These -awkwardly worn habiliments betrayed the fact that the lady had passed -the day in attending the calls of the law-givers of the land, with the -laudable design of enhancing the value of her accommodations, in the -eyes of some rustic Solon, but newly caught, by the genteel appearance -of their mistress. - -I addressed this formidable figure, with an inquiry whether we could -not remain with her for the night, referring to the state of the -weather as rendering it almost impossible to make search for lodgings -that evening. - -The lady eyed me with great scrutiny, and there was an elevation of her -nasal organ, while looking at me, which distorted to a more hideous -expression than was natural, her weather-beaten visage. - -"Indeed," said she, "you can't stay, and that's all about it. Three -_members_ have just sent down to say that they would take the rooms -what they look'd at this morning, and that they must be fix'd up this -very night. So you see you can't stay. It a'nt my fault--and so I can't -say no more about it." - -"Then we _must_ look for other lodgings. But you can give us supper. -The members of Congress have not bespoken _that_ also, I presume." - -"Well--no. You _can_ eat your suppers here I spose." - -"And this lady can remain here until I can obtain other quarters." - -"Well, I've no particular objection to her sitting here awhile." - -Just then supper was served, and we partook of it. Our travelling -companion was at the table, but scarcely recognized us, and the -landlady was barely civil. When the meal was over, I requested the -latter to allow a servant to accompany me in my search, as I was -ignorant of the location of the principal boarding houses. Her son, a -pert lad of about thirteen, volunteered to pilot me, and without delay -we sallied out. - -It occurred to me as we passed up Pennsylvania avenue, that I had -forgotten to deliver a message of some importance to my employers, when -I called to announce my arrival, and I turned a little out of my way to -the office of the N---- I----, where, while I was closeted for a few -moments with one of the editors, my juvenile guide remained in the -clerk's office. - -On leaving the office, I was surprised at the altered tone of the lad. - -"You had better go back," said the manakin: "it is too late to get -lodgings to-night. My mother can keep you as well as not." - -"But she has refused to do so, and insists that it is out of her -power." - -"Never mind that. Go back with me--I'll work the old woman over. See if -I don't tell you the truth." - -"You are a promising lad," said I, "but a little too forward. Let us go -on." - -Finding me determined to prosecute the search, he yielded, and we -called at several houses; but all were full. Against my will, I was -forced to return, with the resolution of making good my quarters for -the night, at any rate, with or without the consent of the lady of the -house. My guide assured me that he could "manage the old woman," and -told me to give myself no uneasiness on the subject. - -After a dreary walk, we reached the house. There sat my wife with her -bonnet still on, for no one had asked her to remove it--and there sat -the lady in the brimstone turban, and fiery ribbons, in whose ugly -visage the words "_turn out_" seemed written, in characters not to be -mistaken. As we entered, the boy motioned his mother, who joined him at -the door, where they held a whispering colloquy for a few moments. -While they were thus engaged, I learned from my wife that there had -been no change in the sentence of exclusion, altho' no new lodgers had -made their appearance. - -The whispering ceased, and the landlady approached me. What was my -astonishment at perceiving that the gorgon face, before so hideous with -frowns, was puckered into the queerest attempt at a smile that was ever -before witnessed on the human countenance. - -But this was not all. Not only did her face exhibit these convulsive -efforts, but the form approached us, curtseying with a most unhappy -imitation of grace. - -The devil is in the hag--said I internally. What new trick is to be -played now? I was not long in suspense. The boy had kept his promise it -seemed, for he or some one else, actually had "worked the old woman -over." She affirmed that she had just received messages from the three -_members_, stating that they were not in haste for the rooms--and she -assured us they were entirely at our service. - -We knew that this was a fiction; but we were fatigued, and disposed to -take the good the Gods provided for us, without much question. We were -shewn to our apartments and slept soundly, forgetting all the vexations -of the day. - -The next morning, after having exhausted ourselves in wonderment at the -freaks which had been played off upon us, I left my wife, to make some -calls in the city. I had not been long absent, when she received a -visit from Mrs. M., our travelling companion, who, after the usual -salutations had passed, seemed struggling to suppress a disposition to -laugh, which my wife took to be another mad freak, to be classed with -those she had previously witnessed. - -The propensity at length overcame her, and she burst into a fit of -uncontrollable laughter, which lasted for many minutes. - -Indignant as my wife was disposed to be, at such an unexpected -explosion of mirth, from a lady who had for two days treated her with -haughty reserve, if not absolute contempt, she bore it with patience, -and awaited in silence the conclusion of her visiter's merry humor, and -such explanation of its cause as she might choose to give. - -Every thing must have an end--and the lady at length ceased her -laughter, from absolute exhaustion. - -"My dear madam,--she gasped out--my dear madam--this is very rude--very -rude indeed. You must be surprised at such conduct, and I beg your -pardon but"---- - -"It would be an unnecessary dissimulation, to say I am not surprised; -but I presume I shall soon learn to be surprised at nothing." - -"You really then, think you have been associated for the last few days, -with persons little better than bedlamites." - -"I have certainly been exposed to strange conduct." - -"Well, I have come to explain the whole mystery. Do not be offended at -my mirth. I could not resist it. The laugh was more against myself than -you--and the whole affair is so ridiculous, that you will laugh too, -when you know the truth." - -"I own that I have a strong curiosity to be acquainted with the cause -of the strange treatment we have met with. I presume it arose out of -some mistake." - -"Entirely, entirely--and then a blunder so ridiculous--so uncommon! -Excuse me, but really I must laugh--ha, ha, ha. But I will keep you in -suspense no longer; besides, I wish you to laugh _with_ me, and -therefore I will tell you my story. Listen. You remember that at -Newcastle, you and your husband took one of the first stages. Myself -and children were seated in another, in company with Mrs. R., (the -pretty, talkative woman with light hair,) two members of Congress, and -a young naval officer. We had scarcely started, when Mrs. R. commenced -with her usual volubility, running over the various persons who had -fallen under her observation in the steamboat. At last your turn came -to be criticised: 'Did you observe Mrs. S.,' said she, 'the lady with -black hair and blue eyes--rather pretty, and at first I took her to be -quite a genteel personage.' Yes, I replied, I had been introduced to -you, and was to place myself under the protection of your husband, from -Baltimore to Washington." - -"'Did you ascertain any thing of their standing and character,' said -Mrs. R." - -"Not a word said I. My friend Mr. H. told me they were genteel people, -and their appearance warrants his opinion." - -"'Well, really,' said Mrs. R., 'how easy it is to be deceived by people -that one knows nothing about. You would not believe it--I am sure I -would not, if Mrs. S. had not told me with her own lips--I say, -otherwise, I would not have believed that Mr. S. was going to -Washington in such a _menial capacity_.'" - -"What!" said I. - -"'_Menial capacity?_' said one member of Congress." - -"'_Menial capacity?_' echoed the other member." - -"'I took him for a gentleman,' said the naval officer--'Confound the -fellow's impudence.'" - -"But, said I, you must be mistaken, I'm sure. I am to go to Washington -with him." - -"'There must be some mistake,' said the two members of Congress, and -the young naval officer, all in a breath." - -"'Why we have engaged to make up a game of whist with him this -evening,' said the latter." - -"'Certainly!' said one member of Congress." - -"'Certainly!' said the other member of Congress. 'Oh, there must be -some mistake, my good madam. _Menial capacity!_ Impossible!'" - -"'No mistake at all,' retorted Mrs. R., with some asperity. 'I tell you -I had it from Mrs. S's own mouth, and she owned it after a good deal of -hesitation and reluctance. I put twenty questions to her before I could -get an answer.'" - -"Well, said I, if you are so well satisfied that you are right, we are -interested to know who and what these people are. I do not choose to -travel under the protection of a man of _menial capacity_." - -"'Yes, yes,' said the naval officer, '_what_ the deuse is the fellow. I -should not wonder if he were a pick-pocket, or a black-leg, to judge by -his easy impudence.'" - -"'Very likely,' said one member of Congress." - -"'I have not a doubt of it,' said the other member. 'But let us know, -if you please madam, what he is.'" - -"'As I said before, I would not have believed it if Mrs. S. had not -told me herself,' said Mrs. R., hesitating." - -"'Oh, no doubt you are right,' said the naval officer: 'but please let -us know who it is we have been so familiar with.'" - -"'Well,' said Mrs. R. 'Mrs. S. told me that her husband was going to -Washington to be _Porter_ to the Senate.'" - -Here my wife interrupted Mrs. M. with a fit of laughter almost equal to -that with which Mrs. M. had indulged herself in the outset. - -"So," said the former, "Mrs. R. mistook the word _Re_porter, for that -of _Porter_,--an important omission." - -"So it would seem," rejoined Mrs. M. "But let me go on." - -"'_Porter to the Senate!_' exclaimed every voice." - -"'A fellow who runs errands for the Senators, fetches and carries -bundles, &c., I suppose,' said the naval officer." - -"'I can't conceive what station he is to fill,' said one of the members -of Congress, 'unless it is that of _old Tobias, the black man_, who -kindles fires, and carries messages.'" - -"'That is it I dare say,' said the other member." - -"'We must cut him,' said the naval officer." - -"'To be sure.'" "'To be sure.'" - -"So it was settled by all present that you were to be cut without -benefit of clergy." - -"I should not have consented to place myself under your protection, -continued Mrs. M., but that I had no choice. Knowing no other person -with whom I could travel, I reluctantly accompanied you; and I trust," -said she, laughing, "that on the road, I shewed a very laudable -aversion to the contaminating society of a _Porter_ and his wife." - -"No one can deny you that merit," said my wife. - -"Well, I cannot ask your pardon for it. There was no malice in the -mistake, and I am almost as much annoyed at it as you can be. After you -arrived here last night, the landlady insisted on knowing what business -brought your husband to Washington; and I reluctantly told her what I -had heard. At the bare idea of lodging a _Porter_, her feathers -bristled up like those of a Barbary hen. Her yellow turban looked blue -at the idea of such an indignity. She protested that she would have no -_Porters_ in her house, nor no such rapscallions as had the impudence -to go about dressed like decent people, to take in the flats. And so, -my dear madam, you were turned out without much ceremony, and might -have spent the night in the street, but for the information obtained by -the boy at the office of the N---- I----, which, by giving another -syllable to the profession of your husband, shewed beyond a doubt that -you were entitled to christian treatment. You know the rest, and I -trust we shall all of us when we remember these blunders, acknowledge -the IMPORTANCE OF A SINGLE SYLLABLE." - -S. - - - - - Extracted from a Virginia Newspaper, Printed in 1775. - -ON SLEEP. - - - O sleep! what though of death thou art - To be an image said, - I wish thee still with all my heart, - The partner of my bed. - - Thy company, soft sleep, then give, - While in thy arms I lie; - How sweet! thus, without life, to live! - Thus, without death, to die! - - - - - For the Southern Literary Messenger. - -THE COTTAGE IN THE GLEN. - - -In traversing that region of country in the wilds of Maine, that -borders one of her finest rivers, if you look carefully on your right -hand as you pass through the town of ----, by the post-road, you may -observe a cart-path leading directly into a thick wood, where the trees -tower in majesty and beauty to the very clouds, and look as if they had -thus stood ever since the day when "the heavens and the earth were -finished, and all the host of them." Were it not for this same -cart-path, with its three ridges of bright greensward, and its four -lines of dusky brown, you might doubt whether the silent grandeur of -the forest had ever echoed to the voice or the footstep of man. - -There is something truly grand and impressive in forest scenery. The -lofty trees stretching high toward heaven; the graceful and majestic -waving of the branches, breathing nature's own soft music, which -scarcely removes the impression of profound silence--or which, to -parody the words of Milton, "just makes silence audible;" the deep, and -seemingly "boundless contiguity of shade," and the awful solitude, make -man shrink into himself, and feel that he is in the presence of the -Eternal. The weak spirit of a creature frail as man, is soon -overpowered, if it give itself up to the impressions naturally produced -by contemplating, in solitude, the grandeur of creation. The first -feeling is delight,--next admiration,--then wonder,--then awe,--and -then oppression;--and when it arrives at this point, the sight of such -a little cart-path as I have mentioned, is a great relief to the -feelings: for it shows that a being having passions, and feelings, and -sympathies like his own--as short lived, as dependant, as insignificant -as himself, is, or has been near. The deep shade has been penetrated; -the solitude has been interrupted; and an unbroken and eternal silence -has not forever reigned in the forest. - -If the reader wishes, we will follow this path, and see whither it will -conduct us. Its course is a little devious, probably to avoid the -trunks of the trees, for not one appears to have been felled to shorten -the distance, which is about three fourths of a mile, under the -unbroken shade of the same noble woodland. Now the path begins to -descend a little, and by almost imperceptible degrees, you arrive in a -valley lying between two lofty ridges, that become more and more abrupt -as you advance; and when you have proceeded about the fourth of a mile, -they seem nearly perpendicular on either side. And their summits being -crowned by the lofty trees of the same far stretching forest, adds much -to the apparent depth of the valley, and you feel as if verging towards -the centre of the earth. That little ripling stream in the valley, -beside which we have been walking, now begins to widen, and presently -expands itself into a mimic lake, restrained on the one hand and on the -other by the mountain side, leaving just room enough on the left for -the unbroken cart-path. Your ear is now assailed by the sound of -rushing waters, and a roof appears beyond the lake--so that a -habitation of man is near. No, it is a mill; the dwelling house is -sixty rods below: there it lies, on a beautiful swell in the narrow -valley, made, it would seem, on purpose for its site--and the again -diminished stream is softly murmuring by its side. That is the Cottage -in the Glen. If you please, we will descend, and take our station in -front of it. Before we turned that angle to attain this spot, you were -about to exclaim, "This is the very home of solitude, shut out from the -rest of creation." But look straight down the valley, and far--far off, -see the picturesque and busy village of ----, and the sparkling waters -of the river. The valley is so straight and narrow, and widens so -gradually towards its mouth, and the banks on either side are so -precipitous, that it produces the same effect on the scene beyond, that -a tube does in viewing a picture. Is it not beautiful! Now if you will -climb with me to the foot of that tree that stands part way up the -bank, we will be seated in the shade, and I will give you a sketch of -the inhabitants of the cottage. - - * * * * * - -Mr. Kirkwood, a native of Massachusetts, and head of the family, is now -upwards of seventy-five years of age; and until verging towards sixty, -was decidedly a man of the world. He was educated at Harvard -University, and at the age of twenty-eight, when he married, was a good -scholar, a finished gentleman, and a successful lawyer. - - "There is a tide in the affairs of men, - Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune." - -Mr. Kirkwood seized the favorable moment, and his wealth rapidly -increased. He wished to be rich; not to hoard his wealth--but that he -might be enabled to procure all the indulgencies and elegancies of -life, and move at the head of society. His wish was gratified. He -became rich; lived in splendid style; and his house was the favorite -resort of the wealthy, the elegant, and the fashionable. His wife was a -model of good housewifery, propriety and politeness; and his only -child, a son, was all that the heart of a man of the world could wish. -Highly gifted by nature, and favored with every advantage for the -cultivation of his talents, young Kirkwood was ushered into society, -elegant in person, elegant in mind, and correct in morals. It was -generally conceded that whoever obtained him, would gain a first rate -prize in the matrimonial lottery. Of course, there was no little -competition among mothers who had daughters to dispose of; and young -ladies who wished to dispose of themselves. But the lovely, well -educated, and retiring Mary Bust, engaged his affections without -seeking them; and in winning her heart, and securing her hand, he -insured his own earthly felicity. Gentle by nature, polished and -enlightened by education, unblemished in reputation, and thoroughly -well principled, through the assiduous care and unwearied instructions -of wise and pious parents,--she was all a man could wish for as a wife, -companion and friend; all he could wish for as the mother of his -children. The son's choice gave perfect satisfaction to his parents; -and when in the course of a few years, the young wife gave successively -to the arms of her husband, three sons and a daughter,--there seemed to -be around this family, a confluence of all that constitutes the -felicity of earth. - -But, alas, in the tide of men's affairs, there is an _ebb_ as well as -_flood_; and this the Kirkwood family now began to experience. The -elder Kirkwood had just begun to discover that his affairs were in some -confusion, when his wife was suddenly snatched away by death. It was a -heavy blow, and he felt it as such. But men seldom die of grief! -Millions have buried the wife of their youth, and been very comfortably -supported under the bereavement; and so was Mr. Kirkwood. Indeed he had -little time to spend in unavailing sorrow, or in brooding over the -memory of the departed one; for the clouds of adversity became more and -more dense about him, and he soon found that the combined energies of -himself and son, could not avert the storm. Poverty seemed coming upon -them "like an armed man." In the meantime, two of the blooming -grandsons were in quick succession conveyed to the tomb; and just as -the storm burst upon them in all its fury, the younger Kirkwood -followed his mother and his two children to the world of spirits. After -this tempest of adversity, Mr. Kirkwood stood like an oak, scathed by -the lightning,--its verdure blasted, and its branches scattered abroad. -He sunk, overwhelmed, and gave way to the most hopeless despondency. - -There is a spirit in woman that will sustain her under circumstances -which will drive man to despair. And when that spirit is moulded, -guided, and strengthened by religion, it is invincible. Soft as the -harp-tones of the "sweet singer of Israel," did Mary's voice now -breathe on the ear of her disconsolate father. - -"'Shall we receive good at the hand of God, and shall we not receive -evil,' my father? Let us endeavor to say, 'The Lord gave, and the Lord -hath taken away, and blessed be his name!' Arise, my father, and call -upon our God. He 'hears the young ravens when they cry,' and will he -not give his children food? He clothes the lilies of the field, and -will he not clothe us? He binds up the broken heart; will he not then -console ours?" - -"Alas, my daughter," cried the old man, "He is thy God, but not mine. -In the hour of prosperity I forgat him; in the hour of adversity I dare -not approach him. May he, indeed, feed, and clothe, and console thee, -and thy remaining little ones. For me--his vengeance alone will pursue -me. Would I could hide me from his avenging hand, and lay my head in -the grave!" - -The despondency of her father added not a little to the load of sorrow -that pressed on Mary's heart; but she had no time for idle lamentation. -She had duties to perform; duties to him, herself, and her children; -and laying herself low before the throne of mercy, she spread her -sorrows and her wants before her Father in Heaven, and taking fast hold -of Almighty strength, she went forward. - -"My father," said Mary, "'Whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth, and -scourgeth every son whom he receiveth;' and, 'like as a father pitieth -his children, so the Lord pitieth them that fear him.'" - -"But I have not feared him, Mary,--therefore he does not pity me. And -his chastening is the chastening of an offended judge--in -vengeance--not the chastening of a father." - -Mary despaired not, though her father thus repelled all consolation; -and when he sat absorbed in melancholy, and she scarcely dared intrude -upon his thoughts, she would move about the room, just breathing the -lines, - - "Come ye disconsolate, where'er you languish, - Come, at the shrine of God, fervently kneel; - Here bring your wounded hearts; here tell your anguish; - Earth has no sorrow that Heaven cannot heal;" - -and at the same time raise a fervent prayer, that his sorrow might not -ultimately prove to be that "sorrow of the world that worketh death," -but the "sorrow that worketh repentance unto salvation." Her prayer was -heard; her efforts were successful. It was not long ere with heartfelt -gratitude, she heard him say, "'It is good for me that I have been -afflicted.' 'The Lord gave,' but I have abused his gifts; and he 'hath -taken away,' and blessed be his name for thus bringing an erring son -near to himself." When this happy change first took place in the -feelings of her father, Mary felt as though she had scarcely a care or -a sorrow left. A future world, uncorroded by cares, unstained by tears, -unblemished by sin, and unvisited by sorrow, opened on the eye of -faith,--and all was peace within. But their pilgrimage was not yet -accomplished; this home was not yet attained; and in the meantime, -something must be done. Scarcely a wreck of their fortune remained; and -Mr. Kirkwood, verging towards sixty, with the energies of his mind -crushed by misfortune, felt it impossible to begin again his career as -a lawyer. The remaining pride of his heart, rendered it extremely -painful to remain amidst his former associates, with whom he could no -longer, on equal terms, hold intercourse; and where every scene called -back the visions of former splendors, and buried friends, with a -sickening influence. - -"Let us fly far from hence, my daughter," said he; "elsewhere I may -recover something of my energy, and be capable of making some effort; -_here_ I can do nothing. Let us fly from the world, and hide ourselves -in seclusion. My soul needs repose. A withering blast has swept over -it, to tear away its idols. The work is done--but the wounds are still -bleeding: and though, I trust, the great physician is at work, there -needs time to perfect a cure. Let us fly from hence, and in some new -and humble occupation, strive to support ourselves for the remainder of -life's journey, and rear these little ones for immortality." - -So that she could be with her father, and her children, to receive the -blessing of the one, and the caresses of the others, it mattered little -to Mary what spot on earth she called home. She was a "_widow indeed_." -The long, bright vista, through which she had looked on years of future -happiness, with the husband of her love, was closed by death; and what -mattered it, where she fulfilled the remaining duties of life, so they -were but faithfully discharged? - -Through the agency of a friend, the Cottage in the Glen, with the mill -that appertained to it, and a few acres of ground, were purchased. Mary -collected together the few articles that remained of former abundance; -and with the feelings of a woman of cultivated mind and literary taste, -and with all the providence of a mother, foreseeing the future wants of -her children, did she most carefully gather up all the books that -remained of the once large and well selected library. All things -finally arranged, they removed hither. - -A complete revolution had taken place in Mr. Kirkwood's views. He felt -that nothing is really degrading that is not sinful; and he resolved, -as far as practicable, to do his own labor with his own hands. But, -until he could learn the art himself, he was constrained to hire an -assistant, to take charge of his little mill; once familiar with the -business, it was his own employment. The family were very comfortable, -and soon became very happy. Though the furniture of the cottage was -scanty, it was arranged with so much taste, and kept in such perfect -order, that it wore the air of gentility; and a profusion of wild -flowers in the summer, and a blazing fire in the winter, gave an -additional cheerfulness to its appearance. The mill supplied them with -bread, and many other comforts of life, beside paying a poor man for a -day's labor now and then on their little enclosure of potatoes. They -procured an honest and faithful maid servant, who milked their two -cows, prepared the butter and cheese, and spun the wool of their half a -dozen sheep, beside doing all the more laborious work of the family. No -human eye was upon them that had seen them in former days, and they -were fast forgetting a world, by which they were already nearly -forgotten. No real want of nature remained unsatisfied, and their -Heavenly Father was as near them here, as in any other place. Glorious -and consoling idea! that his children can be carried to no spot in -creation, where he will not be present to sustain and comfort them! How -glorious the idea of an Omnipotent God! - -Nothing, under the power of religion, served so much to console the -heart of Mr. Kirkwood, as the presence and the happiness of his -grandchildren. Frederic was eight, and Clara three years old; and they -were as happy at the Cottage in the Glen, as they would have been in -the palace of the Thuileries. From his heart, he could adopt the -language of Paley: "I seem to see the benevolence of the Deity more -clearly in the pleasures of young children, than in any thing else in -the world. The pleasures of grown persons may be reckoned partly of -their own procuring; but the pleasures of a healthy child are so -manifestly provided for by another, and the benevolence of the -provision is so unquestionable, that every child I see at its sport, -affords to my mind a kind of sensible evidence of the finger of God." - -"These children are happy, Mary," he would say; "they feel no regrets -for the past--no fears for the future, but enjoy the present with zest. -Our wants are scarcely greater than theirs. Let us, then, not regret -the past; let us not be anxious for the future; but in performing -present duty, and being grateful for present good, let us trust our -heavenly father, without fear or misgiving." - -Neither Mr. Kirkwood nor his daughter found any leisure for idle -repinings. The indispensable labors of each day, with the care and -instruction of the children, occupied them fully. Frederic was sent to -the district school, there to acquire what he could of education; but -he was an intellectual and thinking boy, and soon began to call on his -grandfather to assist him through the difficulties he encountered, as -his mind rapidly developed. The education of Clara, Mrs. Kirkwood -considered her own peculiar business. And when the little girl was old -enough to go to school, she still preferred pursuing the task herself, -as she dreaded lest her daughter should breathe other than a pure moral -atmosphere. - -Next to religion, the abundant means of education is undoubtedly the -glory and bulwark of New England. And the district school, where the -son of the town pauper may obtain the foundation of an education that -will render him intelligent and useful, is an incalculable blessing. -But wherever human nature is, there is depravity; and where human -beings mingle together, this depravity is called into exercise. Even -young children are not the innocent creatures some persons appear to -suppose; but in almost every school may be found the _germ_ of almost -every vice. So thought Mrs. Kirkwood; and it led her to educate her -daughter entirely at home. - -Time rolled on; and the children at the cottage increased in wisdom and -stature: the parent and grandparent in meetness for the kingdom of -heaven. Industry and economy, both of time and goods, was the order of -the house; and the children cheerfully followed the example set them by -their superiors. Frederic was always diligently employed, when not -engaged with his books; and the healthful and joyous little Clara was -the assistant of each one, as circumstances required, from her -grandfather in the mill, to the servant girl at the washing tub. -Permission to play in the open air, was a holiday to her heart; and she -was light and joyous in spirit as the warblers of the grove. Content -and peace reigned in the family. With each returning sun, their orisons -were duly offered on the family altar; and when the shades of evening -closed around, their thanksgivings and praises ascended to the throne -of the Eternal. - - "A holy incense--sweeter, richer far - Than that upon the golden altar shed - In Judah's sacred fane." - -No change of any moment took place in their circumstances, and nothing -in futurity was looked forward to with peculiar interest, until -Frederic attained his fifteenth year. Then, one evening, after having -been unusually thoughtful and silent, he suddenly looked up, and said, - -"I want to be a minister of the gospel, and I want to go to college, -grandfather." - -Both the grandfather and the mother looked up in some astonishment; but -they listened patiently to his plans, and heard him declare what -efforts he was willing to make--what deprivations to endure. - -"Dear grandfather--dear mother," said the eager boy, in conclusion, "do -listen to me kindly. It will do me no harm to make the attempt. You, -grandfather, and our good pastor, will help fit me for college; and I -doubt not, that by my own industry, and what you can conveniently do -for me, I shall some how or other get through. I feel that I can do -nothing without an education." - -"We will think on the subject, my son," said his grandfather, "and in -due time let you know the result of our deliberations. Meantime, attend -to your present duties, and 'take no _anxious_ thought for the -morrow.'" - -The important subject was not mentioned again for the evening; but it -engrossed Mrs. Kirkwood's mind, and kept her waking many hours of the -night. From her son's birth, she had consecrated him to the service of -her Heavenly Father, though she knew not in what way that service might -be demanded. Now she hoped he had consecrated himself; and that what -seemed so aspiring in a youth in his situation in life, was an impulse -from above, rather than the natural workings of an ambitious mind. But -she was helpless in herself, and could only ask to be directed by Him -who is perfect in wisdom; to be provided for by Him who is infinite in -riches. What needed she more! - -The next day Mr. Kirkwood and his daughter held a consultation on the -subject; and when, toward evening, Frederic saw his mother searching -over a chest of old books, his eyes sparkled, and his heart throbbed -with feverish impatience to ascertain if his conjectures were accurate. -His joy was complete, when he saw the necessary books and grammars come -forth; some in a mutilated state, it is true,--but no matter, so the -important parts were but entire. He went about his task like one in -earnest; his progress was rapid; and in due time he was admitted at -college. - -The years of his collegiate life passed rapidly away. The vacations of -spring and autumn he spent in the bosom of his family, giving delight -to the hearts of all by his improvement; assisting in their -labors,--and superintending with deep interest, and assiduous -tenderness, the education of his sister. But the long winter vacation -was devoted to school-keeping,--the most lucrative employment to which -he could, for such limited periods, devote himself. Once he was so -highly favored as to get a school in the neighborhood of the Glen; and -then his labor was a delight, rather than a task, as he could be with -his beloved friends, and direct his sister in her studies. The family -at the Glen, it is true, had to practice more than wonted frugality, to -help in defraying his unavoidable expenses; but no self-denial was -hard, when one so dear was to be benefitted--no sacrifice painful that -was made for so important an object. Clara was by no means the least -efficient in her endeavors to aid her darling brother. As soon as she -completed her thirteenth year, at her earnest and reiterated -entreaties, the servant girl was dismissed, and she cheerfully took her -labors on herself, that Frederic might have the considerable sum thus -saved to the family. - -Meanwhile, Clara's own education progressed, notwithstanding her -situation seemed so unfavorable for study. But she was a rigid -economist of time; and when that is the case with any one, great things -may be accomplished. Although her hands were busily employed a large -portion of the time, a mind, thirsting for knowledge, surmounted all -difficulties. She could not, indeed, touch the keys of a piano, or the -strings of a harp; the spinning wheel and other domestic machines -demanded too large a portion of her time, to have permitted the -acquisition of skill on these instruments, even had she possessed them. -But she knew who Dugald Stewart was, and what he thought of the "active -and moral powers of man;" with Smellie she was intimately acquainted; -and Rollin, Hume, Gillies and Gibbon were her daily companions. The -works of Pascal and Massillon she could read in the language in which -they were written; and with Virgil she could converse in his native -tongue. Above all, she had studied the volume of inspiration, and had -learned the way of eternal life. - -Never had the family at the Glen been happier than when Frederic -returned home, bearing his parchment roll, duly adorned with the -riband, and the imposing seal; and, after some preamble, running thus: - -Notum esto, _quod nos, consentiendibus honorandis admodum ac reverendis -collegii antedicti_ Inspectoribus, _anno Christi_ MDCCC--_admisimum_ -Fredericus Kirkwood _ejusdem alumnum, ad gradum_ Baccalaurealem _in_ -Artibus; &c. But when he joined the domestic circle, authorized to -preach the everlasting gospel, their joy was of a deeper, holier -character. Would I could show you a picture of the group, as they -encircled the blazing hearth on that happy evening. I will even make -the attempt. There sits the venerable grandfather, in his large -arm-chair, his white hairs smoothly parted from off his ample forehead, -with every feature speaking of passions subdued, and a heart full of -gratitude, content and love. Next the mother, with something like the -bloom of youth stealing over her matron cheek,--while her eye moves in -a tear that rises from that deep fountain of mingled feeling, known -only to a _pious mother's_ heart, as she looks on the son of her love, -and that son a _believer!_ Between these two sits Frederic, comely in -manly strength, his whole countenance expressing heart-felt benevolence -to all mankind--and peculiar love, gratitude and veneration for those -by whom he is encircled. Last, and the darling of all, is Clara, seated -on her brother's knee, with one arm around his neck, while her other -hand is sometimes clasped in his,--sometimes straying amid his dark -luxuriant hair. She is not exactly beautiful, but she is lovely. Her -stature is rather below than above the medium size; and fresh air and -healthy exercise have given elasticity to her limbs, and a bloom to her -cheek, that rivals the richness of the peach. If her features are not -regular, they defy criticism; for her whole face has such a glow of -love and happiness, that the delighted beholder cannot seek for -defects. Thus they all sat, enjoying the full tide of domestic -happiness; and each might have said to the other, with Galatee, - - "Tu me demandais ton bonheur, - Et c'etait moi que tu rendais heureuse." - -Even the knowledge that Frederic was soon to leave them, to enter on -the duties of his vocation, could scarcely moderate their joy. - -He has now entered on his holy calling; and though far removed from -those who loved him so tenderly, nurtured him so carefully, governed -him so wisely, and made such personal sacrifices to fit him for -usefulness, they are happy still. Far from selfishly regretting that at -the moment he was fitted for action, and capable of making some return -for all their kindness, they are obliged to resign him altogether,--in -the benevolence of their hearts they rejoice that they have been used -as instruments to prepare him for a life of usefulness in the world; -and their most fervent prayer for him is, that he may "turn many to -righteousness," and then "shine as a star forever." - -Yes, the family at the Glen are happy still. The aged grandfather is -"waiting patiently his appointed time till his change come," with a -"hope full of immortality." The mother, patient, gentle, subdued, -serene, in fulfilling her quiet and unostentatious duties, is carefully -laying up treasure, where "neither moth nor rust corrupt nor destroy." -And the lovely Clara is the sunshine in the path of both. She hushes -the sighs,--wipes the tears,--soothes the pains, and lightens the cares -of each. Her voice is music to their ears; her presence brings gladness -to their hearts; and they both pronounce her blessed. - -But you inquire,--is she who breathes such fragrance around, forever to -be immured in this sequestered valley? No--she will move in a wider -sphere; yet it is doubtful whether she elsewhere tastes such pure and -peaceful happiness as she has tasted here. She may find more luxuriant -roses, but then she must encounter the thorns; and what she may gain in -untried sources of happiness, will be counterbalanced by unknown cares -and sorrows. Yet she will, by and by, run the hazard: for her brother's -dearest college friend once begged an invitation to spend a vacation at -the Cottage; and when he left it, he left his heart behind him. Clara -could do no less than give her's in exchange; and so she has promised, -at some future day, to become his wife. - -And now, as I have finished my sketch, we will leave the valley. - -Do you further inquire what is the secret of their happiness? and -whether she who has been so eagerly sought through the wide world, has -chosen this for her favorite residence? I will give you the answer Mr. -Kirkwood gave to Clara, when she asked him a question of similar -import. - -"Happiness, my daughter, has, on earth, no local habitation. She _may_ -dwell in the palace or in the cottage; with the rich, or with the poor; -with the learned, or with the ignorant. Her seat is in the soul,--and -its security does not depend on external circumstances. A _peaceful -conscience_, and a _humble_, _contented_ heart, grateful for blessings -bestowed, and feeling no craving desire for those that are withheld, -are the pillars of her throne. But there are two classes of persons -that she will never deign to visit, be their rank or station what it -may. Neither the _idle_ nor the _vicious_ are ever happy." - -S. H. - - - - - For the Southern Literary Messenger. - -PICTURE OF OLD VIRGINIA. - - Look here upon this picture--and on this, - The counterfeit presentment.--_Hamlet_. - - - Virginia had been beautiful - And owned a lovely land; - Her sons, who were so dutiful, - Went with her heart and hand; - They raised her to the highest seat, - By talents and by worth, - And sent her name in accents sweet, - Far ringing through the earth. - - But lately she had fallen off; - Her beauty was impair'd; - Her younger sons were heard to scoff-- - _They_ might at least have spared. - 'Twas said that she was growing blind, - Was lazy and supine, - And that she weakly lagged behind - Her sisters, grown divine. - - That all her days were spent, forsooth, - In one eternal chime - About her deeds of early youth-- - "Resolves" of former time. - Naught could be said and nothing told - But she more devils spied; - "_More devils than vast hell could hold_--" - Or all the world beside. - - And strangers[1] did her land deride-- - With wagging tongue, reviled; - Wild beasts, they said, had multiplied - In that most barren wild; - Her houses were untenanted-- - The fox[2] had _manned_ her walls; - And "_rank grass_" waved around his head, - As in old Ossian's halls! - - Her moral strength and physical,[3] - Aye, both of them were gone, - And every man seem'd phthisical, - Or like to tumble down; - Her talents all were buried deep, - Or in some napkin hid, - Or with the mighty dead, did sleep - Beneath the coffin lid. - - But far! oh far beyond all these, - She had displeased her God; - _Inter dolosos cineres_, - She on volcano trod; - She could not get o' nights her rest; - At midnight bell for fire, - She hugged her infants to her breast, - Prepared for fun'ral pyre. - - Virginia roused herself one day - And took her picture down; - And as she gazed, was heard to say-- - Am I thus hideous grown? - And am I stupid--lazy--blind-- - A monomaniac too! - Relaxed in body and in mind? - Oh no! it is not true. - - There lies outstretched my glorious land, - With her capacious bay; - My rivers rush on every hand, - With sail and pennon gay; - My mountains, like a girdle blue, - Adorn her lovely waist, - "_And lend enchantment to the view_," - As in "_the distance_" traced. - - I'll hie me straight to Richmond town, - And call my liege men there; - And they shall write these libels down, - Or fill me with despair. - I have a friend, who'll make some stir, - And take my work in hand; - I'll send him forth my "MESSENGER"-- - To "_spy out all the land_."[4] - - That Messenger went gaily forth - Throughout her old domain, - And there found many men of worth - Would snatch their pens again; - And since their mothers' blood was up-- - To cast her odium by, - Would shed--of ink--their latest drop - T' inscribe her name on high. - - The land which he went out to sift, - _No milk and honey floods_-- - _It takes not two her grapes to lift_--[5] - But grapes festoon her woods. - No want of food, for beast or man, - There met his eager gaze; - Find better bacon!--greens!--who can? - Or finer fields of maize![6] - - Her Tuckahoes 'tis true, are slim, - And of a bilious hue; - But then he found the Anakim - Beyond the mountains blue: - Some men he found in safety chains-- - All crossed upon the breast-- - _They_ seem'd indeed to have no brains: - But these all lands infest. - - The women look'd so passing fair, - How shall their charms be told? - By their Iachimo's[7] they were - Like brilliants set in gold. - Of such _pure water_ was each maid; - So sparkling unto view-- - No wonder that it should be said - They never could turn _blue_. - - No foxes here, peep'd windows through; - But oft at early morn - They're seen to brush the glittering dew, - Pursued by hounds and horn: - Her "_hounds are of the Spartan breed_"-- - "_So sanded and so flew'd_,"-- - All "_dewlap'd_" _they, and all_ "_crook-kneed_"-- - As Cadmus e'er halloo'd. - - In short, all zealots are run mad - T' abuse this pleasing sod; - Where people sleep as sound, egad, - As in the land of Nod: - What! colonize old coachman Dick! - My foster brother Nat! - My more than mother, when I'm sick! - "_Come, Hal, no more of that._" - -NUGATOR. - -[Footnote 1: See Col. Benton's description of Virginia, done into -verse, beginning thus: - - "As Benton jogg'd along the road, - 'Twas in the Old Dominion, - His thoughts were _bent-on_ finding food, - For preconceiv'd opinion," &c.] - -[Footnote 2: "The fox peeped out of the window, and the rank grass -waved around his head. Desolate is the dwelling of Moina--Silence is in -the house of her fathers."--_Ossian_.] - -[Footnote 3: - Man's strength is gone, his courage--zooks! - And liberty's fine motions, &c.--_Benton_.] - -[Footnote 4: And Moses sent them to spy out the land of Canaan.] - -[Footnote 5: And they came unto the brook of Eshcol and cut down from -thence a branch with one cluster of grapes, and they bare it between -two upon a staff, ... and they told him, and said we came unto the land -whither thou sentest us and surely it floweth with milk and honey, and -this is the fruit of it.] - -[Footnote 6: - In old Virginia stint of food - Diseases have engender'd-- - The mind is gone--to want of blood - Good morals have surrender'd. - - Houses are fallen--fences down-- - And men are now much scarcer-- - Wild beasts in multitudes are known, - That every day get fiercer. - - Flee gravel--grit--and heartless clay-- - Nor corn nor oats will grow there-- - To westward hie--away--away! - No heartless Clay you'll know there.--_Benton_.] - -[Footnote 7: The yellow iachimo.--_Shakspeare_. [Cymbeline.]] - - - - - For the Southern Literary Messenger. - -A LEAF FROM THE JOURNAL OF A YOUNG AMERICAN TOURIST IN ITALY. - - -The "sable goddess" had been seated for some time upon her "ebon -throne," when we passed through the ponderous gate and rattled along -the principal street of Genoa the Proud. It was a beautiful night. The -firmament was studded with sparkling gems, and the silver queen rode -steadily in the heavens, diffusing that pure and hallowed illumination -which prompted the ancients to worship her as the goddess of chastity, -and uninterrupted by any of those envious clouds whose intervention -between her face and the earth furnishes poets with so favorite a -figure to express the idea of virtue obscured and oppressed with -misfortune. It was not, however, a night in which "creation -sleeps,"--or, to use the pompous phrase of Racine, in which "tout dort, -et les vents et Neptune,"--for the wind was tempestuously high, and the -waves evinced all their usual restlessness at being roughly visited by -the subjects of old Æolus. As we whirled along, nothing like an -animated being was to be seen; not even a mouse was stirring; and the -rush and whistling of the wind through the street, seemed to bring out -the solemn stillness which otherwise prevailed, into the strongest -relief. How we strained our eyes to catch glimpses of the glorious -palaces which have so filled the trump of fame, and to which the city -is indebted for her magnificent title! And how impressive, how imposing -was their appearance in the partial development and mellowed effect of -their splendor, afforded by the beams of the moon! The whole street was -one consecutive, uninterrupted row of princely buildings,--and -exquisite indeed was the effect of light and shade there -exhibited--"leaving that lovely which was so, and making that which was -not." - -We had given directions to be taken to the Hotel of the Cross of -Malta--_L'Albergo della Croce di Malta_, and when the carriage stopped, -we got out with the expectation of being at our destined domicil. No -sign, however, of a hotel was visible, and one of our party began to -make an accompaniment to the noise of the wind by storming a little at -the postillions for not obeying his orders,--when the courier informed -us that we were as near as the vehicle could get to the house, as it -was located in a street hard by, too narrow for any but pedestrians. -This position of one of the principal hotels of a city denominated _la -superba_, appeared singular enough, and with our ideas of its -superbness somewhat diminished, we followed the man a short distance up -a lane in which two persons could scarcely walk abreast, until we -reached the door of the establishment, whose aspect was not -particularly inviting, in despite of its towering altitude. Our fears, -however, as to the manner in which we might be accommodated, or rather -unaccommodated, were soon put to rest, when we mounted the spacious -stairway, and were ushered into a suite of apartments which to the -simplicity of an American, republican eye, wore an air of absolute -magnificence. - -What a difference there was between the first aspect of things in this -our Hotel of the Cross of Malta, and that which is presented in the -places of entertainment for man and horse in the United States. Instead -of being ushered into a bar-room filled with the fumes of whiskey and -tobacco, crowded with boots to be blackened, decorated with -"tintanabulent appendages" innumerable, and affording palpable evidence -in every way that the establishment is as much entitled to the motto, -"e pluribus unum," as the government of the country itself, we were -received at the portal by a single domestic and conducted to our rooms -without seeing or hearing the slightest indication that any other -"mortal mixture of earth's mould" besides ourselves, was in the house. -And then the difference in the appearance of the apartments! The -recollection of the closets or pigeon holes, styled chambers by the -courtesy of our mother tongue, so limited in their dimensions, that -like the cell of the poor Hibernian, in which he "did nothing but walk -up and down," you cannot "stand in them at all," furnished with a bed, -a wash-stand, two chairs, and a looking glass, in which you may see one -moiety of your face at a time, if you exert yourself with sufficient -industry, did not certainly excite any very lively regrets, as we gazed -on the spacious apartments glittering with mirrors, the walls and -ceiling frescoed and gilded _ad unguem_, mantles supported by -sculptured goddesses, chairs and lounges covered with damask, and beds -so richly curtained and attired, that it seemed as if one could -scarcely sleep in them, for thinking of the luxury in which he was -reposing. The hotel was formerly a palace, whose glories, in part, it -still retains. Yet, to tell the truth and shame a certain nameless -gentleman, before my head had been long laid upon the pillow, I would -willingly have exchanged the grandeur and the spaciousness of the room -in which I was courting the sweet restorer of tired nature, for the -plainness and contractedness of any of the closets to which I have -alluded. Verily I paid for my magnificence. Never did I suffer from -cold as on that night--the very exercise which I took in shaking and -shivering ought to have induced perspiration, but in spite of a -respectable quantity of bed-clothes, with the addition of all my -habiliments piled on top of them, I could not make myself warm enough -to allow the god of sleep to exercise his balmy influence upon my eyes -for an instant. Italian dwellings, unfortunately, as I thought then, -are constructed much more in reference to the weather of the torrid -than of the frigid zone. Every method is devised of letting in as much -of the coolness of the external atmosphere as possible, and of adapting -the materials of the apartments to the nullification of all caloric; -and the one in which I was quaking, was in no way an exception to the -prevalent custom. The marble floors and unpapered walls, -notwithstanding the warmth of the colors with which the latter were -filled, created a resistless disposition to chilliness in themselves; -the wind came pouring through several windows, reaching almost from the -ceilings to the floor, whose looseness provided it with abundant -facility for ingress; no fire-place offered its aid for combating the -power of the blusterer; and the bed in which I lay, curled up into a -heap, to prevent the "genial current" from entirely freezing, was of -amplitude commensurate with the dimensions of the chamber. Napoleon, -with his whole staff, might have been accommodated in it, when he -visited Genoa. Whenever I attempted to make a change of position, I -might as well have fallen into an ice-house. What joy when the -morning's light dawned upon my eyes! Never did I observe the maxim with -regard to early rising with so much good-will, as when I left the -inhospitable couch, determined not to entrust myself to it again. By -the time I had dressed I was as near congelation as I well could be; -the only thing that kept my blood in circulation was the prospect of an -exhilirating fire in the sitting-room, and there I steered with all -possible speed; but alas, for human expectations! On opening the door -my optics were immediately filled with smoke, and as they are not of -that "nice" character which are requisite "to see what is not to be -seen," I could discern nothing like a blaze. The badly constructed -hearth manifested the most invincible repugnance to permit the wood to -ignite, but kindly enabled us to obtain all the warmth we could from -fumigation. I confess I became somewhat dispirited. One of my motives -in coming to Italy was to escape the cold of the winter at home, and -here on my very entrance into its mild and genial atmosphere, as it is -always called, had I suffered more chattering of the teeth than I ever -did before for the same length of time. This may be an escape thought -I, but if it is, it is one amazingly like that of Lieutenant -O'Shangnessy, who _escaped_ from the field of battle into the ranks of -the enemy. - -W. - - - - -NEW ENGLAND. - -The place from which the following letter is indited, can be forgotten -by no one that has ever seen it. A fine view of _Northampton_ may be -had from the top of the _Mansion House_, where the visiter commonly -abides; but whoever ascends _Mount Holyoke_, is rewarded for his pains, -with a prospect of surpassing beauty. In _Virginia_, we may have from -our summits, a view of mountains on the one hand, and on the other a -country comparatively level, with occasional spots of cultivation; but -there is seldom any greater variety. Nothing else is afforded by the -_Peaks of Otter_. _Mount Holyoke_, furnishes a combination of beauties. -The spectator beholds mountains and lowland; a country wild and rugged -in one direction and in the highest state of cultivation in another. He -has before him the lovely village of _Northampton_, with others not far -distant. And the _Connecticut_, is seen winding its way, amongst its -fertile meadows, in so circuitous and yet so regular a manner, as to -make the country on its banks resemble a beautiful parterre. The water -prospect gives to the scene its chief source of interest. _Mount -Holyoke_, rises not so high as _Catskill_; nor is the _Connecticut_ so -distant from it, as the _Hudson_ from the latter. And it is owing to -this, that the water view, is finer from its summit, than from the -_Pine Orchard_. The distance is sufficient to "lend enchantment to the -view"--not so great as to prevent a spectator from seeing any beautiful -object that a nearer view would embrace, with all the distinctness that -is desirable. A Virginian, who has high authority for supposing that a -visit to _Harper's Ferry_ is worth a trip across the Atlantic, may ask -if _Mount Holyoke_ surpasses this famous _Virginia_ scene. State pride -must yield to candor, and acknowledge that it does. The prospect from -what is called the _Eagle Rock_, two miles distant from Harper's Ferry -on the Loudoun side, is certainly very fine, and calculated to remove -in some degree that disappointment, which one who has read Mr. -_Jefferson's_ description is apt to feel, when the scene from the -_Jefferson Rock_ is first beheld by him. But the view of the streams at -Harper's Ferry, beheld from any point, cannot compare in beauty with -the Connecticut at Northampton. And, in other respects, Harper's Ferry -must yield to Mount Holyoke. It will not do to put the workshops of the -former against the beautiful villages seen from the latter. Harper's -Ferry cannot in any way obtain pre-eminence, until the spectator -becomes conscious of the justness of _Mr. Jefferson's_ opinion as to -the mode in which the water first passed through the Blue Ridge. And, -to be able to acknowledge the correctness of that opinion, must be a -work of some difficulty after looking at the _Potomac_ and -_Shenandoah_, and seeing how small a power is produced by the two -streams combined. - -The author of the letter, in speaking of the ladies of _New England_, -repudiates what he terms a leading argument for slavery. The individual -who is led by a perusal of the letter to make the following remarks, is -certainly not an advocate of slavery; but his own observation, has -brought him to some conclusions, from which he inclines to think, the -intelligent gentleman by whom that letter was written, will scarcely -dissent. Whoever has travelled in a stage or steamboat in Virginia, and -travelled also in stages and steamboats in the non-slave-holding -states, must have perceived that more deference and respect are shown -towards female travellers with us, than in the northern and eastern -states. In a southern steamboat, men will not be seen scrambling for -seats at table, before the ladies are provided with places; and, in a -southern stage, a female traveller will always be offered that seat -which it is supposed she would prefer. If more consideration be shown -for female travellers, in the slave-holding than in the -non-slave-holding states,--the next inquiry is, whether slavery be the -cause of the difference. It may be admitted, that in the southern -states, the men who travel are for the most part gentlemen; while to -the north, a large proportion of those who are perpetually moving -about, are persons who have never been accustomed to any good society, -and have very little idea of good breeding. Again--it may be admitted, -that our steamboats are generally less crowded, and there is -consequently less inducement to be guilty of that indelicacy, which is -so often seen in a northern boat. Do these facts explain the cause of -the difference above alluded to? They do not. For we find to the south, -that a theatre, or a place for the delivery of a public speech, may be -filled by citizens, without any distinction of persons; and yet -respectable females coming to a place thus crowded, would be treated -with more consideration than would be shown towards them at the north -under similar circumstances. There must be some other cause for the -difference; and slavery is in a great degree that cause. To the north, -in consequence of the absence of slavery, many females, even in -respected ranks of life, perform duties which here would devolve upon -our slaves. Nor do the duties which they perform consist merely of -unseen employments within doors. A very large proportion of the sex -engage in the business of buying and selling, and travel about -unattended. Thus embarking in what with us would be regarded as the -proper offices of men, the consequence is that they are treated with -not more respect than is shown towards men. This remark is applicable, -as before stated, to a large proportion--to so large a proportion, that -the general rule of deference towards the sex, which prevails to the -south--can scarcely be said to prevail, in the northern states; but -those by whom, and to whom that deference is there shown, are rather to -be regarded as exceptions. A gentleman to the north, will treat one -whom he _knows_ to be a lady, with courtesy and respect. To the south, -this previous information, is not so indispensable. We act upon a -general presumption in favor of the sex. A female with us, is treated -with courtesy and respect, unless something be known as to her -character, or be apparent in her conduct, which justifies the -conclusion that she is not entitled to be so treated. - -C. - - - From the Fredericksburg Arena. - -LETTERS FROM NEW ENGLAND.--NO. 1. - -BY A VIRGINIAN. - - -_Northampton, Mass. July 24, 1834._ - -And you will positively "excommunicate" me if I do not send you "some -_first impressions_" of Yankee-land? Have at you then; though, really, -my time has been so filled with seeing and hearing, that hardly a scrap -remains to write down a hundredth part of the curious or striking -things that meet my eyes and ears. - -Unusual opportunity has been afforded me for seeing various lights and -shades of Yankee character. In stage and steamboat, in jersey wagon and -on foot, on highways and by-ways, in farm houses and city palaces, I -have seen and chatted with all sorts of people, from the ---- of the ----- down to the tavern porter and the country laborer. Five days I -have spent in a pedestrian stroll, calling often at the country houses -to get a draught of water, rest myself, and talk with the farmer or his -wife. These gossipings, you may well suppose commonly produced -amusement and frequently solid information, at least solid materials -for reflection; and, considering that it is only a little more than -three weeks since my entry into New England, methinks I have a pretty -exact measure of Jonathan's foot. Yet for all this preface, do not -expect any very astounding revelations. From the thousand incidents -that, unitedly, make my tour extremely interesting to myself, it is not -certain that any one, or any dozen can be selected, which will -materially interest another person. - -In the _visible_ face of Massachusetts and Connecticut, the features -which, by their novelty or beauty, most strike a Virginian eye, are the -small farms, usually of from fifty to two hundred acres; the small -fields in proportion, there being sometimes fifteen or twenty in one -farm; the stone fences, rendered necessary and numerous in many places -by scarcity of timber, and by the troublesome superabundance of stone; -the universality of _hay_ crops, on hills as well as in meadows; the -almost entire absence of wheat, (the only grains generally cultivated -being corn, rye and oats,) the clustering of habitations together in -villages, instead of having them dispersed at intervals of a mile over -the country; the white painted village churches, all with stately -spires, visible for miles around, having gilt vanes, and clocks of -hands so large and stroke so loud, that I have repeatedly seen and -heard the hour half a mile off.--The country is more hilly, or -_rolling_, as our farmers would say, than the lower half of Virginia; -and the hills have, generally, a smaller base and a more gracefully -swelling, dome-like top, than our hills. These rotundities, with their -concomitant hollows, traversed by numberless stone fences, with here -and there patches of woodland and detached white farm houses, half -imbosomed in elms and fruit trees; while, perhaps, two or three -villages, with steeples piercing the sky, are at once within the view, -exhibit everywhere landscapes of a beauty unknown to eastern, or -indeed, to western Virginia. Here is not a hundredth part of the -appearance of abject, squalid poverty, that our state presents. I have -not seen a log house in New England; and nine-tenths of the ordinary -farm houses are painted. Brick and stone buildings are not common, -except in the cities. This village, the most lovely to the eye in all -the north, and Worcester, (take care to call it _Wooster_) having -respectively, 3000 and 4 or 5000 inhabitants, contain, both together, -hardly more than one hundred and fifty brick and stone houses. - -But the _morale_ of New England, the character of her people, their -tone of thought and feeling upon some important subjects, their social -and political institutions, regulations, and usages, have interested me -far more than her physical lineaments. - -Would that time and space were mine to explain the road, pauper, and -school systems of Massachusetts and Connecticut. (They and Rhode Island -are the only states of New England which I have visited.) But that -would require too much detail. Their felicitous organization may be -inferred from their effects. - -The common roads are all, or nearly all, _ridged up_, turnpike fashion, -and fully as good as our turnpikes. I do not mean such as a certain one -not far from ----, which the traveller knows to be a turnpike only by -the tolls and the jolts, but those in the valley, and near Richmond. - -There is probably not a beggar by trade (except solicitors for pious -charities and subscriptions) in New England. The needy are sent to a -poor house, having a farm attached to it, on which they work for the -parish, or are let to the lowest bidder for their maintenance, as the -people of each township choose. In different townships (or _towns_, as -the provincial dialect hath it,) the number of paupers greatly varies. -I have been told of five, ten, twenty, and even thirty, or more, upon -the list; and, as there are many "towns" in a county, perhaps the -number of such pensioners here, equals ours. But mark! the expense here -is next to nothing--sometimes absolutely nothing: nay, some "towns" -actually derive a revenue from the labors of their parish poor. Salem -has thus gained several thousand dollars in a year. All who are able -render a fair equivalent, sometimes more, for the relief they receive. - -Every person in this state, above four years of age, is entitled to -instruction, at the charge of the "town," in the useful common branches -of knowledge; and a man or woman who cannot read, is here a -prodigy.--Nine-tenths, at least, of the whole population take, or read -newspapers. (In Virginia not more than half the white population does -so.) Here seems to be not a fourth of the tippling that we have; -gambling is even far more rare: there is not a race course in New -England; and, considering the density of the population, (eighty to the -square mile, ours is only nineteen,) I do not believe there is a fourth -so much vice and crime as with us. In moral science, and not least in -that branch of it which investigates the texture of a people's -character, it is hard to ascertain causes and effects with -precision.--What was _effect_, by a sort of reaction frequently becomes -_cause_; they give each other reciprocal impulses, like the mutual aid -of parent and offspring; sometimes various causes mingle their -operations, in unseen, perhaps invisible degrees,--and there is no -laboratory, no apparatus for resolving the inscrutable compound into -its elements. The moral chemist should, therefore, diffidently ascribe -the order, industry, sobriety, thriftiness, and intelligence, which -characterise these people, to any one cause, or to any set of causes. -But general consent, and the reason of the case, leave little doubt -that much, if not most of these virtues, must be attributed to the -system of COMMON SCHOOLS. Yet it may be questioned if, in producing -social good, the school system has not in these states a -_co-efficient_, of equal or superior influence. The road and poor -systems--nay, the school system itself, it seems to me, owe nearly all -their virtues to the TOWNSHIP SYSTEM. - -Each county is subdivided into districts, of no uniform shape or size, -though usually four, five, or six miles long and broad. By an -impropriety, too fast rooted ever to be eradicated, these are called -_towns_; which word is never understood here in its English sense, as -opposed to _country_, and meaning an assemblage of houses, but always -as signifying one of the _districts_ I have mentioned. Protesting -against its lawfulness, I shall yet use it now in the New England -sense. Each town is a sort of republic. Its people, in full town -meeting, elect a representative, or representatives, in the -legislature, _selectmen_, (nearly equivalent to common-council-men) -assessor, and collector; decide how the poor shall be kept, schools -organized, or roads altered or repaired, and what amount shall be -raised by taxes for these and other purposes. A town meeting is held -statedly, in the spring, for elections; and two or three others, -whenever ten voters request it of the selectmen, in writing. At -deliberative meetings, a chairman (here called "Moderator,") is chosen -by the assembly; great decorum prevails, and earnest debates arise. The -town, as a corporate person, is liable for any damage sustained through -neglect to keep a road in repair; and damages have frequently been -recovered. It is obliged by law, to support schools enough to educate -all its children in the manner prescribed. It is bound to maintain its -own poor. And the near interest, the direct agency which every citizen -has in the performance of these duties, cause them to be attended to -with an exactness and an efficacy which a government less _local_, -never would attain. This is the very system which it was the leading -wish of Mr. Jefferson's life to see established in Virginia.[1] No one -can see its admirable effects without owning that wish to have been one -of the wisest which his wise and patriotic mind ever cherished. Such an -organization is not only a nursery of statesmen,--it diffuses among the -multitude habits of reflection and of action about public -affairs,--makes them feel often and sensibly, the dignity of -self-government,--and fits them better and better for the exalted task. -It is, morally, what a _well disciplined_ militia would be physically. -Not the wretched militia that, by our own disgraceful neglect, has now -become our own scorn, but that which our forefathers recommended to us -as a main "bulwark of our liberties," and "the best defence of a free -state." - -[Footnote 1: See his letters to Kercheval, in 1816.] - -_All the direct taxes in this state are laid by the towns._ The state -government is maintained entirely by the interest on some accumulated -funds, and by a tax of half of one per cent. on the capital of the -state banks. By the by, there are at least one hundred of these in -Massachusetts, having a capital altogether, as is computed, of about -thirty millions! And this for a state of 7,800 square miles, and -640,000 people. Verily "_incedit per ignes suppositos cineri doloso:_" -or, in English, "she _sits_ upon a mine of gunpowder." Perhaps sailing -through the air in a car buoyed by bubbles, might be as apt an -illustration. - -The _common_ schools (so those supported by taxation are called) are -not the only ones, for even elementary instruction. Many wealthy -persons, unfortunately for the public weal, prefer sending their -children to teachers of their own employing: and thus numerous private -schools of various grades, and some of these of great merit, are -planted over the state. _Unfortunately_ I say, because such persons are -often those whose _interested_ countenance and supervision are most -essential to the good management of the _common_ schools,--which, -deprived of them, lose half their usefulness. Female education is well -attended to. Good schools for females, (reputedly so, I have not -entered one of them) seem much more numerous than with us, allowing -duly for population. And a judgment of the trees by their fruits, would -confirm that belief; for in my casual and diversified intercourse, I -have met, I think, with a larger proportion of well taught women than -would occur in a similar range through our own society. Yet such a -comparison is very fallacious, and perhaps not worth making. Of one -thing I am satisfied, by personal observation; that the additional work -rendered necessary to ladies in New England, by the imperfect and -unservant-like "help" which they hire, is not at all incompatible with -refined delicacy of mind, manners, and person. That it _is_ so, -however, is a leading argument with some of our _philosophers_ for -slavery. If memory served me, I would quote for their benefit, a -caustic passage from the "Three Wise Men of Gotham," to the effect that -"a _genuine philosopher_ is never at a loss for _facts_ to support any -theory, however absurd or ridiculous. Having constructed _that_ -according to the most approved principles, and upon the most ingenious -plan, he goes to work, and either _makes_ all the facts needful to -uphold it, or distorts actual facts to suit his purpose." - -It has been my good fortune to meet with some admirable female minds in -New England. Since the spells of romance were shaken from me, I have -never hoped to see more happily exemplified, that trait of a capital -heroine of our favorite Miss Edgeworth: "you could discover that the -stream of literature had passed over her mind, only by the verdure and -fertility you saw there." (I mar the quotation, doubtless, but that is -its substance.) No pedantic harping upon books, and authors, and -sciences; some cross-examination would be requisite, to find out that -she knew their names. But let a subject be tabled, calling for ideas, -or for exertions of intellect, to which a conversancy with books, -authors and sciences was indispensable--and you might see that she knew -them well. Then too she knew much that they--but for fear you should -think I am about to fall in love, (which however is impossible,) I will -suppress the rest of my encomium. - -_Abolition_, if not dead here, is in a state too desperately feeble to -give us an hour's uneasiness. Of the many intelligent men with whom I -have conversed on this subject in Massachusetts, Rhode Island and -Connecticut, there is but a single one who does not reprobate the views -of Messrs. Tappan, Cox, Garrison and Co. as suggestions of the wildest, -most pernicious fanaticism. Tappan has two brothers in Boston, both -ardent colonizationists, and decidedly opposed to his mad notions. Not -only do the persons I have talked with, themselves reprobate -interference with that painfully delicate and peculiar concern of the -south: they testify to the almost entire unanimity of their -acquaintance, in the same sentiment. And such multiplied and decisive -proofs have I, of the sound state of the public mind on that subject, -as leave me not a doubt, that nine-tenths of the votes, and ninety-nine -hundredths of the intellect of the country, are for _letting us wholly -alone_. You have little idea of the contempt in which Garrison, and his -will-o'-the-wisp, the _Liberator_, are held here. I have heard him -spoken of as a "miserable fanatic," and "a contemptible poor creature," -in companies so numerous and mixed, as to demonstrate--none gainsaying -it--that the speakers but expressed the public thought. "There is in -this, as in other communities," said a Cambridge Professor to me, -"always afloat a certain quantity of moral _virus_, or noxious _gas_, -ever and anon imbodying itself in some such form as this, of -abolitionism. Not long ago, it was anti-masonry. In two years, -abolitionism will be as prostrate as anti-masonry is now. It may, -meanwhile, spread fast and boldly: it may create disturbances and -alarms: it may prevail so far, in some districts, as to have -representatives in Congress, who will there bring forward some scheme -of emancipation: but triumph finally, or even extensively, in the -north, _it never can_." And all that I saw, or heard, convinced me that -Mr. G---- was not widely mistaken. - -At Worcester, last year, an apostle of abolition from "some where away -down east," delivered a lecture, in the Baptist Church, against -slavery; depicting its wrongs and evils, and insisting upon its -extirpation. He was heard patiently; but when he closed, the pastor of -the church arose, and, to the satisfaction of a numerous audience, -completely answered every argument; vindicated the southern -slaveholders from all wilful injustice in being such; shewed the -impracticability of any but the most cautiously gradual emancipation, -and the madness of attempting even that, by officious intermeddling -from the non-slaveholding states. Our apostle wanted to lecture again -the next day; but the excitement against his doctrine had grown so -strong, that he was refused a further hearing, and admonished, by some -of the leading citizens, that if he remained longer, he was in danger -of tar and feathers. Among the warmest of his reprobators, were the -late and the present governors; both residing there. He wisely -decamped; and has had no successor in Worcester. The manner in which -the New York riots have been spoken of in New England, strikingly shews -the bad odor of abolition here. Instead of the leaning towards that -side, which I feared would result from sympathy and indignation at its -being made the object of a mob's fury, the abolitionists seem to be -regarded by the majority as most chargeable themselves, with all the -mischief that has been done. It is the common sentiment, that they -deserved the treatment they received; and the censure thrown upon the -mob is very _gentle roaring_ indeed. I find almost every New Englander -readily assenting to the positions,--That two millions of slaves could -never be turned loose amongst us and live, while _we_ lived: that the -existence of the two _castes_ in the same country, in a state of -freedom and equality, is morally impossible: that emancipation, without -removal, therefore, is utterly chimerical: that, unjustifiable as -slavery is in the abstract, rights of property in slaves have been -acquired, which, sanctioned as they are by the constitution, and by a -claim prior and paramount to the constitution, cannot be violated -without an outrage, destructive at once of our social compact: that, -let slavery be ever so wrong, abolition ever so just and easy, it is a -matter which concerns _us alone_; and as to which, we are so -sensitively jealous of extraneous interposition, that every agitation -of the subject in other states is calculated to weaken our attachment -to them, and bind faster the chains of slavery. - -In a word, the south may be assured, that on this point, New England is -sound: at least the three states which I have visited. Colonization is -popular here--with those, I mean, who know or reflect at all about it. -The majority (like the majority with us,) are without either knowledge -or thought on the subject. The abolitionists find fault with -colonization, because, say they, its aim is to postpone or prevent -emancipation. Our southern _illuminati_ oppose it, on the ground that -it _favors_ emancipation! Do not these inconsistent objections -neutralize each other, like opposite quantities in Algebra, or opposite -simples in Chemistry? - - - - -N. P. WILLIS. - -We extract the subjoined article from the _Norfolk Beacon_, believing -that it will be both new and interesting to most of our readers. That -paper has recently passed into the hands of Mr. Hugh Blair Grigsby, a -gentleman of fine education and literary taste; and as he has declared -himself a neutral in politics, we have a right to expect that the -Beacon will be frequently rich in other matter interesting to the -general reader. The eulogy upon Willis, or rather his vindication from -those ill natured aspersions, which are always cast upon aspiring -genius,--is honorable to the feelings of early friendship which -dictated it. We have suppressed one or two passages near the -commencement of the article, having reason to believe that Mr. Grigsby -would not have written them if the circumstance to which he alludes had -been better understood. That Willis is a man of genius and an admirable -writer both in prose and verse, will not be questioned we think by a -large majority of those who are at all familiar with his productions. -There are some it is true, who affect a sneer at his pretensions,--and -there are others doubtless, who without affectation, do not admire him. -The world is infinitely diversified; and there is nothing in which -diversity is more strongly exemplified, than in matters of taste. -Shakspeare, Milton, Pope, Byron,--nay, almost all the illustrious -votaries of the NINE, have occasionally had their revilers,--and it -would perhaps be rather an unfavorable indication for any writer, that -his works had never been censured or criticised. The unfavorable -opinions formed of Willis's reputation, as deduced from his habitual -idleness at college--his repugnance to mathematical studies--or his -eccentricities either in dress or behaviour--seem to us to rest upon -very unphilosophical grounds. What if the merits of the immortal bard -of Avon, were to be tested by his diligence in the early acquisition of -knowledge! Even Lord Byron was not remarkable either for industry or -attainments whilst at school. As to the mathematics,--we dare say that -the more bigoted disciples of Euclid and Hutton, would deem it evidence -of bad taste, not to be inspired by the beauties and mysteries of the -triangle and cone;--but what would they think of the learned and -eloquent Gibbon, of whom it is said that so great was his disgust or -inaptitude for their favorite science, that he could scarcely be -brought to comprehend or demonstrate the three first propositions in -Euclid. The truth is, there is an ethereal quality in genius, which -disdains to be trammelled by the rules and systems of human invention. -That it is so, is perhaps unfortunate,--yet the fact itself cannot be -controverted. We commend Mr. Grigsby's article to our readers, not only -because it is well written, but because also it is the testimony of a -fellow student in favor of a writer who, whatever be his merits or -demerits, has acquired acknowledged distinction in the literary world. - - * * * * * - -"Few men of his age have passed through so fiery an ordeal, and come -out of the flame with greater purity, than N. P. WILLIS. It is indeed -without a parallel in literature, that a young man of unblemished -virtue, of accomplished genius, and of a good heart, should be sought -out and hunted down with such an implacable spirit of vengeance. - - * * * * * - -"To those who knew Willis in his early days, it was evident that he -would become, what Edmund Burke said of Townshend, 'a first rate figure -in the country.' The first notice that the public had of his budding -genius was a little poem in six verses, the two first lines of the -first verse being - - The leaf floats by upon the stream - Unheeded in its silent way. - -We cannot recal the whole stanza; but our fair readers may remember -that their albums contained some time since, a beautiful vignette -representing a lady resting in her bower listening to the notes of a -pretty songster perched above her. This engraving was taken from these -lines in this poem: - - The bird that sings in lady's bower, - To-morrow will she think of him? - -"This little poem gained the prize awarded by the Mirror, but what the -prize was, we really forget. We have not looked over this poem since -the morning we first read it, near ten years since; and, with a little -effort, we think we could recal it. It was regarded at the time as a -very pretty production. - -"Some of our readers, who are not wont to frown at the lighter efforts -of literature, may remember some poems under the signature of Roy, -which were republished in every paper in the United States, and -occasionally, it is said, in the British periodicals. Those were from -the pen of Willis. - -"Every one who has a soul for poetry has read the scripture sketches. -Hagar--Absalom--the sacrifice of Abraham--Zepthah's Daughter, are all -the productions of a rich imagination. They have their faults, we -allow, and so has another piece which he has called 'better moments,' -and so with many others; but we will take either and all of these, and -will plead the splendor of his genius before any tribunal of taste -under heaven. Willis's poems have passed through several editions. He -also pronounced a fine poem before Brown University. But the fame of -Willis, however proudly it may rest on his poetry, is still more widely -diffused by his prose. - -"It was a cold morning in the winter of 1824-5, before sunrise, in a -division room of Yale College, that Willis gave the first sample of -that mellifluous prose which has since attracted such general -admiration. He was then commencing his sophomore year; and the student, -who had tried a freshman hand on the translations from the classics, -was now called to essay an original composition. We were class-mates, -but were not in the same division. It was not our good fortune, -therefore, to hear his first composition; but we never can forget the -merriment which it produced in college. If we mistake not, the theme of -his first essay was the dilemma of an old man who had lost his wife; -and was in sad perplexity about the plant which he ought to place at -the head of her grave. One suggested that an oak sapling was best; but -the old man contended that it would not in its infancy protect the -grave from the sun and rain; and when it grew up, it would produce no -good fruit, and would, moreover, with its spreading branches, _rot the -shingles of his house_. Plant after plant, and tree after tree, were -mentioned, the merits of which Willis scanned with great felicity of -thought and language. At last, after a due reflection on the useful and -the becoming, the old man resolved to plant a _cabbage_ on the grave of -his wife. The cold blooded critic, who delights to fasten his fangs on -rising merit, may pronounce the theme a very unfit subject for -merriment; but fellows of eighteen are no philosophers; and we doubt -whether any composition read within the walls of old Yale, ever -produced such a happy effect as the one we have just noticed. - -"It has been urged against Willis that he spent his time idly at -College, and was totally unversed in those studies which are supposed -to test with the greatest severity the powers of the understanding. If -the meaning of all this be that he is not a profound mathematician, we -readily admit the charge; and declare that we would confide as little -in his judgment, as we would in that of Moore, Rogers or Campbell, in -case either or all united should attempt a new edition of the -Principia, or a full translation of La Place--but as we never heard of -any such intention, we must in candor believe that the objection has -some other meaning. If it were to appear, however, that he is not well -versed in mathematics, we are willing to assign him any punishment -which any one will declare that a boy of seventeen, who has failed to -plunge head and ears into the mathematics, ought to receive. - -"At the same time we are free to declare that the system of teaching -pursued at Yale College, is the most defective the wit of man ever -devised. We mean, of course, the tutorial system. A few raw lads, who -have passed through the collegiate year, and rusticated for a -twelvemonth afterward, are called to preside in the division rooms, and -to perform all the most important duties of education. These gentlemen, -if they went forthwith to supply their great and glaring defects, and -to qualify themselves to perform their delicate and honorable duties -with credit to themselves and honor to the university, would command -our respect; but no sooner do they accumulate a sum of money, than they -bid farewell to the cause of education. And herein rests our chief -objection; which is not that the tutors are _young_ but that they are -utterly insensible to the dignity and importance of their office, which -we deem the most honorable on earth; and merely consider teaching as -the drudgery to which they must submit, to obtain money enough for -their advancement in their various modes of life. In this aspect the -whole system is faulty, and requires thorough amendment. We said that -we did not object to the youth of the tutors--we rather deem it an -advantage, when teaching is to be the great object and end of pursuit. -We think that superannuated generals and professors rank in one and the -same degree. The mind, after a certain time, clings to its ancient -convictions, and shrinks from the field of experiment. And as the -splendid example of Napoleon has opened the eyes of the world on the -subject of old generals; so ought the example of Bichat, the younger -Gregory and the lamented Fisher, to produce a similar result on the -subject of old professors. The spring-time of life is illumined by a -warmer sun than ever lights up the breast of the old man. Youth is the -time of pure aspirations, of lofty daring and successful achievement. -The heart yet untouched with the sickening lusts and cankering cares of -the world; alive to the finest impulses of our nature, and glowing with -the desire of immortality, is a noble thing; and we verily believe that -such a heart is rarely to be found unless in the bosom of youth. - -"We have blamed freely the tutorial system of Yale College; but we have -given the dark side only. There are advantages accruing from the -system; but they are, in our opinion, utterly inadequate to -counterbalance its great and ruinous defects. - -"While however, we freely denounce the tutorial system of Yale College, -we would not be unjust to the able men who preside in the institution. -For Doctor Day, Mr. Kingsley, Mr. Goodrich and Mr. Olmstead, we -entertain the highest respect; and believe them to be ripe scholars; -but we know the influence of ancient habit, and that miserable system -is so mixed up with the entire machinery of the institution, that we -have barely a hope of seeing it amended by the present administration. -Could Willis have found such a tutor as Mr. Jefferson has represented -Mr. Small to have been--one whose learning inspired respect, and whose -parental kindness melted the heart of the obdurate, and won back the -wayward--we should not have heard this grave charge against him; as it -was, while his classmates were calculating eclipses, moral and -mathematical, he passed with ease from beside them; and assumed an -honorable station in the literature of his country. - -"But to Mr. Willis as a writer of prose. And one great source of wonder -with us is his uncommon acquaintance with the vocabulary of the -language. He moves over the spacious field with the ease and grace of -the most accomplished scholar. And then his sentences flow so sweetly -on, that you liken them to some limpid rivulet from the hill of the -muses flowing around and about the rich landscape before you, and if -for a moment concealed from the eye, it is only to burst upon you in -all its fullness and beauty. So much for the style of Willis, in its -mechanical sense. But there is something beyond this; and which is far -more important. It is the life of style. And here is the particular -forte of Willis. He reverses the rule of the logician; and instead of -advancing from general to particular, he paints the species with the -minutest care. The letter which we gave yesterday is a happy specimen -of the philosophy of his style. His theme is a voyage on the Hudson in -the summer season, when all are thronging northward, and to this -miscellaneous multitude he seeks to introduce us. He selects a few -individuals, and finishes their portraits with the greatest care and -the most consummate skill. But first observe the connection of the -trip. Whoever has travelled the Hudson in the summer season, will at -once recognize the group of passengers who have arrived '_just_ thirty -seconds too late;' and the striking description of a steamboat 'built -for smooth water, long, shallow and graceful, of the exquisite -proportions of a pleasure yacht; and painted as brilliantly and -fantastically as an Indian shell.' Then we have the Kentuckian to the -life, 'sitting on three chairs;' and the Indian, who does not deign to -show the slightest curiosity, unless in eyeing the broad chest and -sinewy form of the Kentuckian--detecting with characteristic skill the -hardy dweller of Kentucky in the unnatural disguise of ruffled shirt -and fine broadcloth coat 'cut by a Mississippi tailor'--and the -Alabamian, whom the common eye would confound with the Kentuckian, and -who is a different species altogether; and next, the southern beauty -from the interior of Alabama, 'dressed in singularly bad taste;' -graceful as a fawn, but untutored in the mysteries of the dance. In -fine, the whole scene is painted before us almost with the distinctness -of actual life. We pass over the great excellence of this sketch in -other respects; but we are sure that he who reads the letter will long -retain its striking passages in his memory. - -"It will be asked by that race of cynics who set a wonderful value on -the fabrics of their own manufacture, but show no admiration of the -noble structures reared by the genius of others,--it will be asked by -such, what good can such productions accomplish in the business of -life? While we heartily repeat the sentiment first uttered by Dr. -Johnson, and afterwards endorsed by Sir Walter Scott, that we hate a -_cui bono_ man, we will enter the lists in the cause, and declare that -they produce a right and proper effect on the general mind. Now we have -shown that the leading excellence of the writings of Willis consisted -in minute and exceedingly graphic sketches of the natural world in all -its varied aspect of mountain, plain, and river, and that still more -varied chart of instruction--Man. His pages then reflect like some -beautiful stream, with lights and shades, all the rich and stirring -variety of nature. And who will deny that nature hath not a voice and -eloquence that rightly speak to the bosoms of men? And herein resteth -the power of Willis. - -"It may with propriety be inquired, if Willis could not select a more -extended field of fame? We believe that he might select a theme of -higher bearing, and that he is now preparing the path before him. His -present sketches are so many notes from which, in riper years, he will -strike a nobler harmony. We know that he has a fine ambition; an -ambition that looks far beyond the pages of the New Monthly, or the -Mirror,--and which stirreth within him a desire of a great and proper -poem, which 'men will not willingly let die,' and which will weave his -humble name with the destinies of his country." - - - - - For the Southern Literary Messenger. - -WASHINGTON AND NAPOLEON. - -THE CONTRAST. - -----"Urged by a curiosity common to all strangers, Captain Lockerby -visited the tomb of Bonaparte. The spot where the tomb stands is only -accessible by ticket. It was railed round with green palms, and a -sentinel walked round it night and day to prevent approach within the -railing."---- - - - Behold what a contrast is here! - Two heroes gone down to decay-- - The grave of the one, how deserted and drear! - While the other is deck'd in its marble array - And a sentinel guards it by night and by day. - - Oh, what was the life of the first, - That in death they have left him thus lone?-- - Was the crown of the Tyrant his thirst? - And mounting in blood on the steps of a throne-- - Had he murdered his thousands to aggrandize one? - - Of grandeur of soul was there none - In that bosom, transform'd to the clod; - The end of its government done, - To abandon the lictor, the axe, and the rod, - When it look'd on its nothingness--thought of its God? - - But see what a far different scene! - The tomb of the valiant and wise! - Encompass'd secure by its paling of green, - And gleaming in white, as those tropical skies - Beam down on the waste where St. Helena lies. - - Lo! numbers resort to that spot, - And beauty bows too at the shrine-- - Oh virtue! how envied thy lot! - The grave cannot darken thy splendor divine - Nor sully thy brightness, but adds to its shine. - - Yet CHRISTIAN!--come nearer and read, - For conjecture hath led us astray-- - Hast thou heard of one, false to his creed? - Of a blood loving tyrant--ferocious--whose sway - Was supported by rapine, while earth was his prey? - - 'Tis to him that these honors are paid, - And his dust must be guarded--from whom? - Are the terrified nations afraid - Lest he yet should arise from the curse of his doom, - And bursting its cerements, escape from the tomb? - - Ah no! he lies powerless now! - But thousands would bear him afar: - To this Juggernaut, long did they bow, - And were abjectly crush'd by the wheels of his car, - As triumphant he rode through the red fields of war. - - Is virtue then, nought but a name? - Let us turn to the spot we have passed-- - If guilt can exult in its shame, - The good in his grave may be silently cast-- - Abandoned--unnoticed--the scene but a waste! - - Yes, yes, thou art dumb with amaze-- - 'Tis WASHINGTON slumbers below-- - Was language too weak for HIS praise?-- - Was the grief so profound, that it baffled all show, - Or the feeling too deep for the utt'rance of wo? - - Let us hope that it was--let us trust - That we honor the Friend of Mankind-- - That the Corsican despot in dust, - His merited meed of abhorrence shall find - In the progress of truth and the march of the mind. - - - - -MINERAL WEALTH OF VIRGINIA. - -The following interesting communication from Peter A. Browne, Esq. of -Philadelphia, was submitted last winter, by the Governor of Virginia, -to the General Assembly. It was printed with the documents accompanying -the annual message, and bound up with the legislative journals, but has -had no other publicity. It is therefore _new_ to nineteen-twentieths, -if not to ALL of our readers. We confess we feel somewhat mortified, -that the valuable hints and suggestions thrown out by an intelligent -and scientific stranger, should have failed to attract the attention of -our public functionaries. We are not without hope, however, that a -subject of such vital importance as a geological survey of the state, -will claim the earnest and speedy consideration of the people, as well -as their representatives. It is one of those subjects upon which all -parties, however divided by sectional jealousies or other adverse -views, may meet on common ground, and unite in harmonious action. There -is no portion of the commonwealth which is not deeply interested in the -development of its mineral wealth--none which ought not to lend its -hearty sanction to a scientific survey of the country by a skilful -geologist. To say nothing of the noble example of other states--among -them some of our youngest sisters--our interests are too deeply -involved in the proposed undertaking, longer to defer it. -Agriculture,--commerce,--the arts,--are alike concerned in the -successful prosecution of a work which promises to each such essential -benefits. The people of Virginia have been too long ignorant and -unmindful of their own vast resources. Who would have dreamed a few -years since, that a vein of precious gold, which, for two centuries, -had escaped observation, actually enriched our soil? Who now can form -an adequate conception of the various hidden treasures which science -and enterprise may bring to light. Can the paltry consideration of a -few thousand dollars expense, outweigh the magnificent advantages which -are likely to result? Shall the present generation fold its arms in -supineness, and leave every thing to be done by posterity? We earnestly -exhort our legislators to take the subject into serious consideration. - -The writer of the subjoined communication will be pleased to learn that -the mineral springs of the state, (which might in themselves be made a -source of boundless wealth,) have been subjected to careful analysis -during the past summer, by an able chemical professor in one of our -colleges. It is understood that the results of his observation will in -due time be laid before the public. - - -_Philadelphia, Sept. 30, 1833._ - -SIR,--Although I have not the honor of a personal acquaintance with -you, I have no hesitation in making the present appeal to your -patriotism and wisdom, not doubting but that I shall find in the great -and growing interest of the subject to the country at large, and -particularly to that portion of the Union over which you preside with -so much dignity and discretion, a sufficient apology for occupying so -much of your valuable time, as will enable you to give the present -communication an attentive perusal. - -I have recently returned from a _geological_ excursion to Virginia. I -entered the state near the head waters of the Potomac, passed thence to -Winchester, followed the course of that fine valley to the Natural -bridge; retracing my steps, I turned westwardly at Staunton, crossed -the mountain at Jennings's gap, and visited the justly celebrated -medicinal springs in that region; returning, I went from Staunton -through Charlottesville to Richmond, and down the James to its mouth. -When this tour is taken in connection with a former visit to Wheeling, -it will be conceded that I have seen enough of the state, to enable me -to form a rough estimate of its geological and mineralogical -importance; and I do assure you, sir, that although my anticipations -were far from being meager, I was astonished at the vastness and -variety of interesting objects in that department of natural history, -that were constantly developing themselves, inviting the mind of man to -reflection, and his hands to industry, and displaying at every step the -wisdom and beneficence of the great Creator. - -I determined upon respectfully suggesting to your excellency the -expediency of a topographical, geological, mineralogical and -oryctological survey of Virginia. Should the enlightened -representatives of the freemen of your state concur in this opinion, it -will redound to the honor of all concerned, by the encouragement it -will give to the study of the natural sciences--by the enhancement in -value of lands in the interior, thereby enriching the state and its -citizens, and giving a very proper check to unnatural migrations to the -extreme west, by bringing to light and usefulness innumerable valuable -crude materials, thereby not only enlarging the field of manufactures -and the useful arts, but furnishing carrying for the canals and roads -already constructed, and assisting in new internal improvements in -locations of equal importance. That I may not appear to be too -enthusiastic, pardon me for pointing out some of the most obvious -features in the geology of Virginia. Whether we consider the comfort -and convenience of our species, or the industry and prosperity of a -state, there is no mineral production that can outvie in importance -that of _coal_. In this country, where we have hitherto always had a -superabundance of fuel, owing to the vast extent of our natural -forests, the importance of a constant and abundant supply is not felt, -and we are too apt to neglect properly to appreciate its value, but it -is not so elsewhere, and a moment's reflection will shew that it ought -not to be so _here_. Without fuel, of what use would be to us the -metallic ores? for instance iron, which is now moulded, drawn and -worked into thousands and tens of thousands of useful instruments, from -a knife, to the complicated machinery of a steam engine, would forever -remain an indissoluble and useless mass of matter without the aid of -fuel--even the steam engine itself, that colossus of modern machinery, -without the assistance of fire would be inactive and impotent. - -The Rev. Mr. Conybeare, an eminent English geologist, speaking of the -coal veins (or coal measures, as they are there called,) of his -country, thus expresses himself: - -"The manufacturing industry of this island, colossal as is the fabric -which it has raised, rests principally on no other base than our -fortunate position with regard to the rocks of this series. Should our -coal mines ever be exhausted, it would melt away at once, and it need -not be said, that the effect produced on private and domestic comfort -would be equally fatal with diminution of public wealth; we should lose -many of the advantages of our high civilization, and much of our -cultivated grounds must be again shaded with forests, to afford fuel to -a remnant of our present population. That there is a progressive -tendency to approach this limit, is certain, but ages may yet pass -before it is felt very sensibly; and when it does approach, the -increasing difficulty and expense of working the mines of coal, will -operate, by successive and gradual checks, against its consumption, -through a long period, so that the transition may not be very violent; -our manufactures would first feel the shock; the excess of population, -supported by them, would cease to be called into existence, as the -demand for their labor ceased; the cultivation of poor lands would -become less profitable, and their conversion into forests more so." - -Where is the state in this union--I might, perhaps, safely ask, where -is the country in the world, that can surpass Virginia in the variety -of position and abundance of supply of this valuable combustible? She -possesses, not only in common with her sister states, a liberal -quantity of bituminous coal in her western and carbonaceous regions, -where, according to geological calculations, bituminous coal might be -reasonably expected to be found; but in the eastern division of the -state, within a few miles of the tide water of a majestic stream, which -empties its ample waters into the Atlantic ocean, in a geological -position, where bituminous coal never would have been sought after, -because bituminous coal could not there have ever been expected to have -been found, bituminous coal of a good quality, and apparently in great -abundance, has been found; nature seeming, as it were, in this -instance, to enable her to favor an otherwise highly favored land, to -have defied all her own rules, and baffled the skill of the gravest -geologist, by depositing bituminous coal upon the naked and barren -bosom of the uncarbonaceous granite! I have often wondered why this -anomaly did not strike the capacious and highly gifted mind of -Jefferson, and why he, or some other of the many reflecting men of -Virginia, was not led by it to inquire, what else there might be in -store for the good people of that state? By neglecting to seek for -them, we ungratefully reject the proffered kindness of our Creator; the -laws of inanimate matter are, in this respect, in unison with those -that govern animated nature; we are furnished with the material and -means, but in order to stimulate us to useful and healthful industry, -we must labor in their appropriation. God gives us the earth and the -seed, but we must plough and sow, or we can never reap; so he has -bountifully placed within our reach innumerable valuable rocks, -minerals and combustibles, but to enjoy them, we must delve into the -bowels of the earth--and having found them, we must, by various -laborious processes, render them fit for our use. To those who are -accustomed to regard these things, it is difficult to determine which -causes the most painful sensations, to observe how few coal mines, in -comparison to what might be, are opened in the neighborhood of -Richmond, or the want of skill exhibited in the selection and working -of those recently opened. Nor is the deposite of the bituminous coal -upon the granite, the only geological anomaly of this quarter. -Proceeding from Charlottesville towards Richmond, almost immediately -after you leave the Talcose formation of the Blue Ridge, you are -astonished at the fertility of the soil; you can scarcely persuade -yourself that you are travelling over a country of primitive rocks. -Soon, however, you discover that the fertility is not universal, but -confined to patches of a brick-red covering, that overlay the -disintegrated materials of the primordial formations, and upon seeking -further into this curious matter, your surprise is not a little -increased, upon discovering that this brick-red covering owes its -existence to the disintegration of a rock, which, in most other places, -is exceedingly slow to decompose, and which, when decomposed, forms a -cold and inhospitable soil. It is the _hornblende sienite_. Here it is -surcharged with iron, which oxidating by exposure to the atmosphere and -moisture, the rock freely disintegrates, and the oxide of iron being -set at liberty, imparts its coloring to the ground, and fertilizes the -soil in an extraordinary degree. - -Professor Hitchcock, in his report of a geological survey of -Massachusetts, makes the following remarks in relation to the effect of -iron upon a soil: - -"No ore except iron occurs in sufficient quantity in the state, to -deserve notice in an agricultural point of view. In the west part of -Worcester county, the soil, for a width of several miles across the -whole state, is so highly impregnated with the _oxide of iron_, as to -receive from it a very deep tinge of what is called iron rust. This is -particularly the case in the low grounds; where are frequently found -beds of bog ore. I do not know very definitely the effect of this iron -upon vegetation; but, judging from the general excellence of the farms -in the Brookfields, Sturbridge, Hardwicke, New Braintree, Barae, -Hubbardston, &c., I should presume it to be good. Certainly, it cannot -be injurious; for no part of the county exceeds the towns just named, -in the appearance of its farming interest--and nearly all the county, -as may be seen by the map, is of one formation. It would be an -interesting problem, which in that county can be solved, to determine -the precise influence of a soil highly ferruginous upon vegetation." - -Next in geological and statistical importance, I would place the -mineral springs of Virginia; and these would form a legitimate subject -of investigation to those who should be appointed to conduct a -geological survey. - -I am not aware of any portion of country of the same extent, possessing -an equal number and variety of mineral springs, as the counties of -Bath, Greenbrier and Monroe. This is a subject upon which one might -easily compose a book, but I must confine myself to a few lines. The -waters are thermal and cold; the former of various degrees of -intensity. They hold in solution a variety of metals, earths, acids, -and alkalies, combined in various proportions, and suited to relieve -the sufferings of invalids from a number of diseases. Mineral springs -of less interest than these, have excited the attention of the learned -in almost every age and country; and Virginia owes it to her high -mental standing, independently of every other consideration, to assist -the cause of science, by investigating the causes of the high -temperature, and making accurate analyses of these waters. It is the -duty of states, as it is of individuals, to furnish their quota to the -general stock of information; and this is peculiarly the duty of a -republican state, whose happiness, nay, whose very political existence, -depends upon an improved state of the minds of its citizens. Mr. John -Mason Good, in his "Book of Nature," after describing the barren state -of society in the middle ages, says, "we have thus rapidly travelled -over a wide and dreary desert, that, like the sandy wastes of Africa, -has seldom been found refreshed by spots of verdure, and what is the -moral? That ignorance is ever associated with wretchedness and vice, -and knowledge with happiness and virtue. Their connections are -indissoluble; they are woven in the very texture of things, and -constitute the only substantial difference between man and man," and I -would add, between state and state. - -Has the heat of these waters any connection with volcanic phenomena? Or -is the temperature entirely chemical, originating in the decomposition -of sulphuret of iron, as I suggested some years ago in a paper -published upon the subject? At the Hot Springs, the hot sulphur water -and the cold pure water, issue out of the calcareous rock at the base -of the Warm Spring mountain, within a few feet of each other. One of -these Virginia Springs, makes a copious deposite of calcareous tufa; -and at another, you perceive newly formed crystals of sulphate of iron. -The White Sulphur Spring takes its name from a rich white deposite, and -the Red Sulphur from one of that color. If this is not an uncommon and -a highly interesting section of country, calling aloud for -investigation, and meriting legislative interference, then have I taken -an entirely erroneous view of the subject. - -The Warm Spring mountain is white sandstone. The rocks of the valley of -the Hot Springs are calcareous, argillaceous and silecious; they are -all nearly vertical. At first the two former, and afterwards the two -latter, alternate. They have all been deposited in a horizontal -position, and between their narrow strata are thin layers of clay -covering organic remains.--Those of the lime and slate are principally -zoophytes. That of the silecious is the fossil described by Doctor R. -Harlan, from a specimen obtained by me in the western part of the state -of New York. He supposed it to be a now extinct vegetable fossil of the -family fucoides, and he has called it _Fucoide Brongniard_,--in honor -of M. Brongniard. But I suppose it to be _animal_, and to belong to the -family of the Encrinites.[1] - -[Footnote 1: See an essay of Richard C. Taylor, F. G. S. on the -geological position of certain beds which contain numerous fossil -marine plants of the family fucoides; near Lewistown, Mifflin county, -Pennsylvania, in vol. I. part I. of the Transactions of the Geological -Society of Pennsylvania, page 1.] - -The mountain ranges of Virginia are more numerous, and the valleys -consequently narrower, than they are in Pennsylvania; but some of them -are very interesting. The great valley, as it is sometimes called, or -par excellence, _the valley_, situate between the Blue Ridge and the -North and Alleghany Mountain, is by far the most extensive. The rocks -often obtrude, rendering the soil rather scanty, but nevertheless this -is a fine district of country. - -I could find no fossils in this rock. In regard to the metallic ores, I -would observe, that I discovered sufficient indications of their -existing in Virginia in quantity sufficient to justify a more accurate -examination. Iron abounds in almost every part of the western section -of the state. Traces of copper, lead, manganese and chrome, have also -been discovered near the Blue Ridge; and the gold of Orange County is -equal to any found in the Carolinas or Georgia. - -I have never seen any thing that exceeds the richness and variety of -coloring of the serpentine of the Blue Ridge. This mineral is easily -cut, and the fineness and closeness of the grain renders it susceptible -of a high polish. At Zoblitz in Saxony, several hundred persons are -employed in its manufacture. Besides the minerals belonging to the -Talcose formation, and generally accompanying serpentine, are many of -them valuable in the arts--for instance, steatite, (soap stone,) talc, -chromate of iron, clorite slate, and native magnesia. A geological -survey would, most probably, lead to the discovery of most of these -minerals. - -I could make large additions to this communication, but for the fear of -trespassing upon your patience. I will, therefore, close my -observations with noticing two instances of want of confidence in the -mineral productions of your own state, which I am persuaded that a -geological survey would tend to correct. I met many wagons loaded with -sulphate of lime (gypsum,) from Nova Scotia, being taken to the -interior to be used as a manure; but I did not see one wagon employed -to bring carbonate of lime (common lime stone,) from the inexhaustible -quarries of the great valley to any other district to be used for the -same purpose. In the beautiful and flourishing city of Richmond, I -observed the fronts of two stores fitting up in the new and fashionable -style with granite (so called,) (sienite,) from Massachusetts, while -there exists in the James river, and on its banks, in the immediate -vicinity of the town, rocks of a superior quality, in quantities amply -sufficient to build a dozen cities. - -I have the honor to be, sir, - Your obedient servant, - -PETER A. BROWNE. - -_To his Excellency John Floyd, - Governor of Virginia._ - - - - -LAFAYETTE. - -The following tribute to the memory of Lafayette, having been -transmitted from Paris for the purpose of being published in some -American periodical, the gentleman by whom it was received, has -requested that the same may be inserted in the Messenger. - - -He breathed not the atmosphere of cities at his birth; he was born on -the mountain top; he inhaled with the breath of life, the breath of -liberty. Though sprung from a lordly race, he was the people's friend; -and, under every trial, he displayed the inborn dignity of man. - -Rich too he was, but lucre was not his idol; and his liberality was as -unbounded, as his heart was generous. At that season of life which, to -common men, is a time for pleasure and dissipation, he heard and obeyed -the holy call of freedom. - -Far off, beyond ocean's bounds, a young and promising nation was -struggling for its rights. He felt, as if instinctively, the part -allotted to him on the stage of life; and he became America's adopted -and beloved son, when in his native land, his name was scarcely known. - -On returning to France, he found her laboring under mysterious -warnings--of good or evil he knew not--the foreboding pangs of -political convulsions; and he put his trust in the cause of humanity, -because he judged of other men from himself. - -But vain was his boldness and wisdom in council; in vain did he beard -in their very den, the infuriate demagogues; a bloody pall was spread -over his devoted country; he gave her up in despair, and the dungeon of -Olmutz closed upon him as a tomb. When a brighter day arose, his -freedom was stipulated as the most glorious trophy of his nation's -victories. But the hurricane had swept the ancient fabric from the -earth; not a vestige of it remained, so dreadful had been the storm. -All the powers of the state were centred in one man; a man of -selfishness and pride, who aimed at absorbing all wills in his own. And -in sooth he did this, with one sole and great exception. The instinct -of freedom, which was as the vital spark in our great citizen, kept him -aloof from the man whose empty and ephemeral triumph is stained with -the blood and tears of every nation. He retired to his paternal fields; -and at a time when the sword ruled paramount, he guided the fruitful -ploughshare. - -Liberty was no more; and by a hard but just retribution, it was made -the rallying word of nations against us. Then fell upon our country -unheard of disasters and defeats; after which dawned a milder reign. He -now reappears upon the public stage; he comes to heal our wounds, to -rekindle in our hearts the love of liberty. He devotes himself to the -task with a zeal unceasing, enlightened by long-tried experience, -inspired by a pure and upright heart, and animated by a spirit of self -denial never equalled. In the prosecution of this noble attempt--he -dies! - -He was one of those men who, at far and distant intervals, appear in -days of degeneracy to arrest the right of proscription against virtue. - -He disdained power, he despised riches, he abhorred corruption. He -wished that all men should be happy and free. - -Yet in the age of barefaced egotism, and under the reign of fraud and -knavery, such disinterestedness and candor must inevitably be deceived; -therefore is it that our political jugglers sneer at this great and -good man--their grovelling minds understand him not. - -But his name, pronounced with reverence in both hemispheres, is become -the watchword of mankind laboring to be free; and it will stand for -ages, as the brightest symbol of humanity. - -Thy soul, oh Lafayette! was a pure and glorious emanation from that GOD -in whose bosom thou now hast found a resting place. He alone can reward -thy manifold virtues, thy constant love of humanity, thy inexhaustible -charity, thy piety and truth. Thou art blessed in Christ. - -ALEXANDRE DE BOINVILLE. - -_Paris, May 1834._ - - - - - For the Southern Literary Messenger. - -PINKNEY'S ELOQUENCE. - - Hear you this triton of the minnows?--_Coriolanus_. - - -"Yet Mr. Pinkney is not an eloquent man; he is convincing, to be -sure--and that is to be eloquent in one way; but he would be more, and -fails." "Nothing can be further from eloquence, if by eloquence be -understood any thing that is persuasive, beautiful, dignified or -natural, than the declamation or reasoning of William Pinkney." "His -best speeches are a compound of stupendous strength, feeble ornament, -affected earnestness, and boisterous turbulent declamation." "But God -never meant him for an orator; he has no property of mind or body--no -not one, calculated to give him dominion in eloquence." - -As old Doiley says in the farce, when told that "gold in the balance of -philosophy was light as phlogisticated air," this must be deep, for I -don't understand a word of it. The above are extracts from a work, in -which the author undertakes to deny to Mr. Pinkney the praise of -eloquence. No kind of composition confounds me more than criticism, and -especially that sort which pretends to develope the characteristics of -some distinguished orator. If one - - ----------------should - So get the start of the majestic world - -as to "bear the palm alone," we feel a very natural curiosity to know -what was his appearance, his manner, and peculiar style of eloquence; -but alas! in the hands of the critic, he assumes so many shapes, that -the imagination is absolutely bewildered, and we turn away in despair -of finding out what the man was like. The critic like the newspaper, -contradicts himself at every step. One sentence tells us what another -denies; and we rise from the perusal of his sketch jaded and worn out -with the variety of contrariant ideas which have passed through our -brains. I am no critic, and heaven forbid I should ever belong to that -cold hearted fraternity, who more often pervert taste than improve it; -but I cannot forbear contesting the truth of this writer's assertions, -and declaring that he seems to me to be a Lilliputian about the body of -a Gulliver. - -It has been said of Demosthenes, "that he has been deservedly styled -the prince of orators. His orations are strongly animated, and full of -the impetuosity and ardor of public spirit. His composition is not -distinguished by _ornament_ and splendor. Negligent of the lesser -graces, he seems to have aimed at the sublime, which lies in sentiment. -His action and pronunciation are said to have been uncommonly -_vehement_ and _ardent_. The Archbishop of Cambray gives him the -preference to Cicero, against whom he makes the objection of too much -_ornament_." According therefore to this author, if Wm. Pinkney was not -an orator, it follows that Demosthenes was none; because their style of -eloquence seems to have been alike in almost every particular, except -that Pinkney aimed at _ornament_, of which Demosthenes had none and -Cicero too much. If speeches, characterized by _stupendous strength_, -and _turbulent declamation_, and _convincing argument_, are neither -"persuasive, nor dignified, nor natural," then was not Demosthenes -persuasive, nor dignified, nor natural, and of course he was no orator -according to this definition. If ornament be a fault in Mr. Pinkney, he -had it in common with Cicero; but perhaps the author may say that -Cicero attained what Pinkney only aimed at. Hear him then again on the -subject of ornament, so passionately loved by Mr. Pinkney. "Bring him -in contact with a truly poetical mind, and his argument resembles a -battery of colored fire-works, giving out incessant brightness and -reverberation." It would seem then that ornament is not a common trait -of his eloquence, but a glitter which is effected by attrition against -poetical minds. It is then that he draws upon the inexhaustible stores -of beauty laid up in his mind, gathered from the writings of Shakspeare -and others, and retained by the force of a powerful memory. He has no -fancy of his own, but uses the fancy of others. Then surely he is so -far superior to Demosthenes, whose eloquence was thought to border on -the hard and dry; alike impetuous, vehement, stupendous and convincing -with him, and superadding a relish for the beauties of poetry; not -aiming at any _ornament_ of his own, but contented with what suggested -itself in illustration of his argument from the pen of others. Then how -is he feeble in ornament? But again; if there be nothing of dignity or -nature in Pinkney's _reasoning_, how is it discovered that his mind is -"_adamant clamped with iron_," [a poor conception, and suiting the -ideas of a blacksmith better than a belles-lettres scholar--for the -iron adds nothing to our thoughts of the strength of adamant;] that it -is "a colossal pile of granite, over which the thunders of heaven might -roll," &c. &c. It is useless to quote the rest of the unmeaning fustian -of the sentence. - -After all this avowal of stupendous strength of argument, we are told -in a subsequent paragraph, that say what we will of Mr. Pinkney's -argument, he the author, never saw him yet--no never, pursue his -argument steadily for ten minutes at a time. Then how can it be so -overwhelming and convincing? Nothing lessens so much the force of -argument as a perpetual aberration from the subject. Again; "God never -meant him for an orator; he has no property of mind or body," &c. &c. -Not to say any thing of the presumption and impiety of determining for -God, I would ask what are the _bodily properties_ of an orator? This -writer has not condescended to define them, although he dwells at large -upon such as he thinks cast discredit upon Mr. Pinkney. It is scarcely -necessary to observe that Demosthenes was ungraceful in figure and -action; and that not only _orators_, but very wise and learned men, -have been repulsive in their persons, their features, and their manners -also. Though Cæsar and Cicero were exempt from defect in this respect, -as far as I remember Demosthenes stuttered--Socrates was bald and -flatnosed--Anthony a rough soldier--Lord Chatham's eloquence was -forcible, but uniform and ungraceful--Fox was a fop of Bond street, and -wore high heeled morocco shoes. Mr. Pinkney therefore may, without -reproach, be a "_thick, stout man, with a red fat English face_," and -Mr. Fox will keep him in countenance as a fashionable man. The -facetious Peter Pindar has said, that - - Love hates your large fat lubberly fellows, - Panting and blowing like a blacksmith's bellows; - -but I never heard that oratory did. - -In the next breath we hear that "Mr. Pinkney has a continual appearance -of natural superciliousness and affected courtesy." _Continual_--and -yet afterwards "his manner is exceedingly arrogant and unpropitiating;" -and his deportment had been already described as "_brutal, arrogant, -full of sound and fury, accompanied by the rude and violent gestures of -a vulgar fellow_." One moment he is a giant, not only _metaphorically_, -but in sober truth, if we may judge from his stentorian lungs, which -have caused the author's whole system to jar--and from those violent -gesticulations, which indicate uncommon personal strength;--the next, -he turns out to be only five feet ten, and a petit maitre, and -affectedly courtly and conciliatory; and yet "nothing could make a -gentleman of him; he can neither look, act, _speak_, sit, nor _talk_ -like one." Notwithstanding all this scurrility and abuse of Mr. -Pinkney's person, the author is not yet exhausted, but lavishes more -upon his intellect. "The physical powers of Mr. Pinkney," he says, "are -to my notion, strictly correspondent with his intellectual ones; both -arc solid, strong and substantial, but without grace, dignity or -loftiness." Loftiness! the same man who has such "prodigious elevation -and amplitude of mind," "and both have _a dash of fat English -dandyism_." I confess myself wholly at a loss to comprehend what the -fat dandyism of the intellectual powers is. A man's mind might, by a -forced metaphor, be said to be dandyish, perhaps; but a _fat mind_, is -a solecism in words wholly inadmissible, I think. "His style of -eloquence," it is added, "is a most disagreeable and unnatural compound -of the worst faults of the worst speakers." "He is said to resemble -Lord Erskine as he was in the day of his power: it is a libel on -Erskine, who was himself a libel on the reputation of his country as a -speaker." "The language of Mr. Pinkney does resemble that of Lord -Erskine; his reasoning is about as forcible." If the term style here be -the manner of speaking appropriate to particular characters, I have -shown that the censure is equally applicable to Demosthenes, the prince -of orators, who, in addition to his vehemence, was so ungraceful in his -motions, that it was necessary for him to practice with a naked sword -hanging over his shoulder; and therefore to compare Demosthenes to Lord -Erskine is a libel on Lord Erskine, himself a libel on his country as a -speaker--and _argal_, as Shakspeare says, Demosthenes is inferior to -English orators. If, again, the word style mean the manner of writing -with regard to language, these sentences would involve a contradiction, -and Mr. Pinkney is like and unlike Lord Erskine at the same time. - -Yet why do I talk of Demosthenes? In the following sentences the author -admits that Mr. P. copied too closely after Cicero and Demosthenes. "He -desired to be eloquent; he thought of Demosthenes and Cicero, and his -heart swelled with ambition. He remembered not that he was to be a -lawyer, and that Demosthenes and Cicero were declaimers. He who should -look to move a body of Americans in a court of justice by the best -thundering of Demosthenes, would only make himself ridiculous." Very -true; and this may certainly prove that Mr. Pinkney might have been a -greater _lawyer_, by bending the whole force of his mind to that one -pursuit; but it has nothing to do with the premises. The ground is here -changed; this is not the point to be proved--not the quod erat -demonstrandum. The point to be proved is not the _propriety_ of -displaying eloquence before a jury, but that Wm. Pinkney was never -meant by God for an orator; that he has no property of mind or body to -make one. This is assuredly the scope of the extracts. Had Mr. P. not -aimed at _ornament_, his ashes might have passed undisturbed by the -author, who allows that he was decidedly the greatest _lawyer_ in -America, but is very angry that he was not the greatest in the world. -In spite of all this, however, Pinkney "pursued his way like a -conqueror, and had well nigh established himself as the high priest of -eloquence in America." Why, what a stupid, blind, misjudging race we -must be, to think of choosing a man for our high priest of eloquence -whom God never meant for an orator, and who had no property, not one, -of mind or body, for his business--and never to awaken from our folly -until this writer tore the urim and thummim from his breast. "The -giant," he says, "is gone down like a giant to the household of death," -and there should at least have escaped the imputation of baseness which -deserved shooting. How _giants_ die, I pretend not to know; but imagine -such giants die pretty much like other people; and it seems to me -perfectly ridiculous to talk of a man's dying like a giant. At that -awful hour, the littleness of the greatest genius is a subject of -melancholy reflection. I will only add that I know nothing of this -writer. If his object was to guard us against the mischievous effects -of a false taste in eloquence, he cannot be angry with me for wishing -to guard against the equally bad effects of a false taste in criticism. - -NUGATOR. - - - - -THE DANDY CHASTISED. - -In this metropolis a real, downright exquisite is rarely to be seen. -Curiosity may be gratified by a good description of the animal as -exhibited in other places. The following communication is from one -residing in a city much more fashionable than ours. Its author seems -well informed in the science of æsthetics; and it is to be hoped that -he will exert himself to correct mistaken impressions as to the -beautiful. Further notices by him may be beneficial. - -C. - - -Among the follies and vices of mankind, there is nothing more -remarkable or ridiculous than the continual effort, among all classes -and kinds of people--savage, civilized, and pseudo-civilized--to -increase or impart beauty and comeliness to their forms and features. -Through what various and opposite means is this cherished object -pursued! This savage tattoos his cheeks--that smooths and oils them, -and would esteem the gratuitous tattoonry of the small-pox a graver -misfortune than all the pain attendant on the disease. - -The Indians on our Western border are wont to assume the character of -the bear, the panther, or some "other interesting beast of prey," and -place their ambition in enacting the look and conduct of such beast to -the life--and "to the death." - -The belle of that age is surrounded by a vast circumvallation of -hoop--of this, is pinched into a narrow breastwork of steel and -whale-bone. - -To cramp the feet into unnatural littleness is now the sad task of -those who, to be beautiful, are willing to suffer the tortures of the -thumb-screw--or the toe-screw, (it matters not.) The fashion changes, -and long pointed shapeless boots deform the human foot. - -In no age--in no condition, can men and women be persuaded that God -Almighty has made them well,--albeit he hath "made man after his own -image," and woman much better than man. - -They must fall to reforming their forms by some fanciful deformity. - -But the innovation stops not here. Thus far it might be borne. The -human form cannot be wholly changed by all the ingenuity of vanity and -fashion. It must still retain its principal attributes, and lose not -all its lustre. Not so with manners. They are more plastic. From -fashion and human folly they accordingly suffer most. Fashion is the -sworn foe of nature, and in this field there is no natural bound to its -triumphs. - -On the face of the earth, or in the waters, there is no animal to my -feelings so wholly hateful as a modern exquisite: a wretch that has put -off his natural aspect to put on a clay mask, hard, ungainly, -inflexible, of lifeless mud--which no Prometheus could vivify: a thing -which can boast neither the humor of the monkey, nor the fierce -respectability of the wild beast,--not the usefulness of the -tame--still less the dignity and bearing of a man. - -Sometime since, after sauntering an evening through a ball room, in -which some such caricatures of men were existing, I went home and -vented my rage in the following doggerel: - -The Indignant Rhymes of a Natural Proser. - - Oh! Muse, assist me in my strain! - Your Museship I would entertain - With a poetic flagellation: - Assist me Muse, to lay the lash on, - With pen formed from a dog-wood switch, - Fit to chastise a dunce: with pitch - For ink, and bull's hide parchment handy; - Now aid me, Muse, and we'll chastise a dandy. - - That petty, puny, paltry, pretty thing-- - In form a wasp, but destitute of sting; - Vain as a peacock, soulless as a gnat, - Brainless as soulless, finical as flat: - Of apes the ape most awkward and most vile-- - Jackall of monkeys, and without jacko's wile. - The jackall serves none but the noblest beast, - But this base thing takes lessons from the least. - As Egypt's sons did bow the knee of yore, - And worship apes, the eternal God before-- - He, in god image framed, with godlike mind, - Would be a god--of Egypt's monkey kind. - A traveller sage! Europe he hath explored-- - His mistress fashion, and an ape his lord. - No dignity finds he in native man, - Acting and thinking after nature's plan; - No wisdom, save in artificial fools-- - Nature's apostates--slaves to senseless rules: - No beauty sees he, save in gold and lace, - A made up figure, and a painted face; - And no politeness, save in mere grimace. - - Go! thou vile satire on the human race; - Go! _on all fours_, and seek thy proper place: - Go! thing too mean for any mighty ill-- - Go! petty monster, "pay thy tailor's bill." - - - - - For the Southern Literary Messenger. - -PLACED WITH A ROSE UPON A LADY'S CHEEK. - - - Roses on roses I bestow; - Bright rose! to brighter roses go-- - Bask in the sunlight of her eyes, - Nor dread their fires; the dews which rise - In pity for a heart that grieves, - Will shed reviving coolness on thy leaves. - -QUESTUS. - -_Norfolk_. - - - - - For the Southern Literary Messenger. - -THE ALLEGHANY LEVELS. - - -The following description of a part of Virginia and Maryland, seldom -visited and but little known, may have sufficient interest to deserve a -place in the columns of the Messenger. - -The country alluded to, is in the northern part of this state, and -comprehends that corner of Maryland included between the North Branch -of Potomac and a line due north from the Fairfax stone, at the head -spring of that stream, to the Pennsylvania line; and also a portion of -the territory at present in dispute between the two states; Maryland -claiming as her boundaries the South Branch of Potomac and a meridian -thence to Mason and Dixon's line,--while the first mentioned limits -only are acknowledged by Virginia. - -A short notice of the origin of these conflicting titles might, -perhaps, be interesting to some readers; but in addition to our lack of -complete information, the limits of this sketch will not permit it. - -Between Cheat river, at the fertile bottom called the Horse-shoe, and -the summit of the mountain which divides the Western from the Atlantic -waters, the country is thinly peopled, and only cultivated in the -largest tributary vallies: the long spurs of the Backbone being too -sterile to serve any other purpose than ranges for cattle and animals -of the chase. The approach to the Great Backbone of the Alleghany -region is here, as elsewhere on the western side, characterized by a -broad and gentle acclivity, covered almost entirely with loose rocks of -various sizes, many of them of the species of agglomerated quartz, -familiar to the west under the name of country mill-stone, and valuable -for the domestic molendinary uses of the simple and hardy race -inhabiting those regions. - -There is little timber of large size, the growth being chiefly chestnut -oak and small moss-grown white oaks, exhibiting upon their blackened -roots the scathing effects of flames, which, through the negligence of -hunters in firing the dry leaves, have often and fiercely swept down -the mountain side. The more recent inroads of fire are denoted by large -tracts of underwood, black and denuded of leaves, and so stiffened by -scorching as to present vexatious obstacles to progress, independent of -the minor, though, in that place, unimportant annoyance of soiled -clothes and person. - -Large pine and birch trees, and a thicker undergrowth--detached blocks -of stratified sandstone, some of them of huge size--and an increasing -wildness and desolation in the aspect of the scenery, inform the -traveller who may have ventured so far, that he is on the confines of -the Alleghany wilderness. - -The mountain top, near Lord Fairfax's stone, is crowned with a bold -irregular precipice, which the hunters belonging to the exploring party -of which the writer of this article was a member, termed the -Bear-holeing, from its being the winter abode of great numbers of those -animals,--the numerous cavities of the rocks, and the tangled laurel -thickets, affording them a secure refuge from foes, whether biped or -canine. - -We were not without hope of being treated to the novelty of a bear -hunt, our guides being veterans of the rifle, and accompanied by fine -dogs, one of them as his master informed us, having engaged Sir Bruin -more than fifty times. - -The perils of this sport may well give a reputation for boldness and -hardihood to our western yeomanry, when we consider that these -encounters always occur in most intricate thickets of stubborn tangled -laurel, in which the bear must have greatly the advantage in -progression,--the sharp form of his head, and its close proximity to -the ground, making it perform, in relation to his huge muscular body, -the office, it might be said, of the coulter to a plough. But few of -them are killed without the sacrifice of one or more of man's zealous -confederates in this dangerous sport; and the rescue of the faithful -brutes, (such is the inexpugnable nature of the foe and his -extraordinary vital energy, which seems often to defy even the rifle,) -obliges the hunter, with a personal daring not inferior to that of the -Roman gladiators, to terminate the conflict with his hunting knife;--he -dies invariably biting the ground or whatever else may be within his -reach; showing to the very last the propensity to combat, which he -exhibits even while a cub. - -The range of precipice of which we have spoken, either terminates, or -is interrupted for some distance north of this point--whence, for more -than thirty miles, the country is totally without human inhabitant, and -will probably for a long time, if not always, so remain. - -The land may be said to lie in lofty tables, though the vallies are of -great depth--the latter circumstance alone reminding the traveller that -he has descended a mountain,--the seemingly interminable tract of flat -forest land impressing, most forcibly, the idea of a lower situation, -though these are without doubt among the very highest lands in -Virginia. They are called by the hunters and settlers upon their -outskirts, the Alleghany Levels. In them are the principal sources of -all the great waters of Virginia. The North and South Branches of -Potomac, Jackson's river, and the Shenandoah, Greenbrier and Gauley, -Cheat and Tygart's Valley--which flow north, east, west and south, -seeking by long and winding courses, the Ohio or the Atlantic Ocean. - -The greatest singularity of this country consists in its primeval -appearance: the ground is carpeted throughout with an elastic and -verdant moss; black spruce and hemlock pines, of dark funereal aspect, -tower above the soil like an army of Titans,--the interlacing of their -umbrageous arms converting the noonday into seeming twilight. Under its -mossy covering, the surface of the ground is completely reticulated -with roots of trees--nature seeming to compensate in numbers for the -defective character of her supports, as large trees may be often -observed whose roots do not enter the ground for some feet below the -trunk, being previously contorted and spread out like the arms of a -polypous, and clothed in the same mantle of moss which overspreads -rocks, trees and earth, in this fantastic region. - -This moss may be stripped from the soil in sheets of any desirable -size, and, when not previously saturated with rain, affords a most -comfortable substitute for a mattrass, as in our bivouacs we more than -once experienced. - -The underwood is mostly streaked maple or elkwood, (the _Acer Striatum_ -of Michaux,) diversified with immense tracts of the _Kalmia Latifolia_ -and the large rose-bay-tree, (_Rhododendron Maximum_,) more popularly -known as the "little and big laurels." The last named plant, when in -flower, is the ornament of the wilderness. Those who have never seen -it, may have some conception of its appearance, if they imagine tall -bushes, from eight to twenty feet in height, with dark evergreen -leaves, (not unlike in form and color to those of the magnolia -grandiflora,) bearing clusters of full blown peonies, or large double -damask and cinnamon roses, the intensity of the color seeming to vary -with situation. - -It is to be feared that this beautiful plant cannot easily be -naturalized in this climate--an attempt made by the writer of this -article, possibly from a too warm or not sufficiently humid exposure, -having failed. - -The geographical position of these "laurel beds" is a necessary part of -the hunter's lore. Frequent instances are narrated of persons -bewildered in them many days, and some are said to have perished. A -farmer, born and residing on Stony river, five miles north of this -wild, by whom we were supplied with provisions, accompanied us to the -skirt of the forest, but could by no entreaty be induced to proceed -farther. - -These laurel thickets are most frequent in approaching vallies, which -are as before remarked, of great depth; the descent is sudden, in -general by what resembles a rude flight of steps, moss grown and -ruined. To casual observation there would appear to be no water at the -bottom; but a subterraneous rumbling, and occasional flashes through -the interstices of the fragments on which he steps, inform the -passenger that a stream of volume and power is beneath him. - -The largest streams however, as in other regions, flow in open -channels, their waters having a dark ferruginous tinge, derived it is -said, from the laurel roots, but more probably from deposites of ore -through which they flow. - -The wild animals are no doubt many, as well as various, though the -noise attending our own operations kept them from our sight. We daily -saw tracks of bears, deer and elk; of the latter, a drove of some -threescore is said still to inhabit these almost inaccessible wilds. Of -birds, we saw none living except a few silent and melancholy snow -birds; but our nightly lullaby was the whooping of owls, which here -abound in great numbers. - -To the reputed wonders of rattlesnake dens, where these reptiles lie in -monstrous cumuli, refusing to uncoil until the whole mass has been many -times assailed with rifle balls and other missiles, we cannot testify, -having never, though very desirous of so doing, the fortune to find -one. - -The soil is a cold argillaceous loam, unsuited to the production of the -nobler grains, but susceptible of becoming, under proper culture, good -grazing land, and no doubt proper for rye, oats and potatoes,--the -invariable products of the whole mountain region. - -The botany of the wilderness proper, is confined chiefly to the two -species of pine before mentioned, the hemlock pine (_Pinus -Canadensis_,) and the black spruce (_Pinus Nigra_ of Lambert.) Some -stately specimens of the wild cherry and scattering patches of red -beach complete the list. - -On emerging from the wilderness, the customary variety of oak, ash -maple and hickory presents itself, mingled with the cucumber tree -(_Magnolia Acuminata_,) and that invaluable treasure to western -housewives, the sugar tree,--announcing the neighborhood of -cultivation. - -This dreary expanse of forest terminates on the summit of the Eastern -Front Ridge, at the head of the North Fork of Patterson's creek, itself -an inconsiderable tributary of Potomac, but deserving celebrity for the -grandeur of its scenery. It appears to have cut its way through three -lofty mountains in succession, affording a more sublime exhibition of -river gap landscapes than I have witnessed in any other part of the -state,--the boasted grandeur of Harper's Ferry fading into -insignificance when compared with it. - -At the first farm east of the wilderness,--in the homely but -comfortable dwelling of one of the worthy Dutch farmers, our little -party enjoyed the unwonted luxury of beds, and were able to breakfast -without performing for ourselves the office, which has occasioned our -species to be so properly designated as "cooking animals." - -C. B. S. - - - - - For the Southern Literary Messenger. - -THE CYCLOPEAN TOWERS, IN AUGUSTA COUNTY, VA. - - -On a fine morning in September 1834, a party of which the writer was -one, consisting for the most part of gentlemen who had met together in -the town of Staunton from various sections of the Union, resolved on a -visit to certain remarkable NATURAL STRUCTURES which lay in the -neighborhood of the Augusta Springs, and about twenty miles distant -from the place of their departure. - -After passing over a hilly and picturesque country, the road opened -upon a fertile valley, which though in places narrow, was of -considerable length,--and when seen from an elevated position, appeared -like the bed of an ancient lake, or as it really is, the alluvial -border of a flowing stream. The strata of limestone hills, followed -their usual order of parallel lines to the great mountains of our -continent, as though a strong current had once swept through this -magnificent valley,--forming in its course islands and -promontories,--which are now discoverable in numerous short hills and -rocky bluffs, that are either naked and barren, or covered with a -growth of stately trees. It was at such a projection, that we first -descried the gray summits of what seemed a ruinous castle,--resembling -those which were raised in feudal times to guard the passes of the -Rhine, or like such as are still seen in mouldering majesty on many an -Alpine rock. These summits or towers, of which there are seven, lifted -their heads above the lofty elms, like so many antique chimnies in the -midst of a grove; but, on approaching them nearer, our pleasure was -greatly increased, to find them rise almost perpendicularly from the -bed of a small stream, which winding around their base, serves as a -natural moat to a building not made with mortal hands. The southern -front of this colossal pile, presents a wall of about sixty feet -elevation, terminating in three towers of irregular height, and -perforated at its base by a cavern,--which, by an apt association, was -denominated "_Vulcan's Forge_." The tower on the extreme right, was -unanimously called "_Cocke's Tower_"--in honor of one of our party who -ascended it. On the left, are two other isolated towers,--of which the -centre or smaller one was distinguished as the "_Hymenial Altar_,"--a -name which had its origin partly in a _jeu d'esprit_, and partly on -account of a shady bower in its rear, which seemed an appropriate shade -to mantle maiden's blushes. The furthest and tallest, received the -title of the "_Tower of Babel_." This is also the most perpendicular of -all these rocky structures; an archway passes through it, by which -there is an easy ascent to the remaining two, which stand on the -acclivity of the hill,--and though of less altitude, are not of -inferior beauty to the rest. One of them, which is of a round form, and -flat at the top, and on that account received the appellation of the -"_Table Rock_"--affords from its summit a splendid view of the whole; -the other, and last of the five, we distinguished as "_Shelton's -Rock_"--from one of our party. - -These rocks in their formation resemble the palisades on the Hudson -river--but are more regular in their strata,--which appear to have been -arranged in huge masses of perfect workmanship--with projections like -cornices of Gothic architecture, in a state of dilapidation. Those who -are acquainted with the structure of the Cyclopean walls of the -ancients, would be struck with the resemblance,--which suggested the -name at the head of this article. - -We pause to inquire why these primeval fragments of the world have -remained so long unnoticed? Why is it that men are so easily awakened -to the liveliest interest in distant objects, and yet neglect those -which are nearer and more accessible? "A prophet" it hath been said on -high authority, "hath honor save in his own country,"--and to that -strange propensity of the mind to contemn whatever is familiar, must be -attributed the neglect of many of the richest treasures at our own -door, which frequently impart both wealth and distinction to foreign -enterprise. For many years these towers have been known in the -surrounding country, by the homely appellation of "THE CHIMNEYS,"--but -no one has ever stopped to examine them, or to inquire how nature -formed so curious a pile in such a spot. Imagination may indeed -conceive that this noble structure was once the _Scylla_ of a narrow -strait connecting the waters of the north and the south, until their -accumulated pressing burst through the blue ridge at Harper's Ferry, -and left in their subsidence these towers, as a perpetual memorial of -their former dominion. - -G. C. - - - - -[We do not remember where or when the following _Sonnet to Lord Byron_ -was published. All we know is that it has been in print before, and has -been ascribed to the pen of the Hon. R. H. Wilde, of Georgia.] - -ORIGINAL SONNET TO LORD BYRON. - - - Byron! 'twas thine alone on eagle's pinions, - In solitary strength and grandeur soaring, - To dazzle and delight all eyes, out-pouring - The electric blaze on tyrants and their minions; - Earth, sea and air, and Powers and Dominions, - Nature--man--time--the universe exploring, - And from the wreck of worlds, thrones, creeds, opinions, - Thought, beauty, eloquence, and wisdom storing. - O! how I love and envy thee thy glory! - To every age and clime alike belonging; - Linked by all tongues with every nation's story, - Thou TACITUS of song!--whose echoes thronging - O'er the Atlantic, fill the mountains hoary - And forests with a name which thus I'm wronging. - - - - - For the Southern Literary Messenger. - -MUSINGS III--_By the Author of Vyvyan_. - -JAMESTOWN. - - Yet could I seat me by this ivied stone - Til I had bodied forth the heated mind - Forms from the floating wreck which ruin leaves behind. - _Childe Harold's Pilgrimage_, _Canto_ iv. _Stanza_ civ. - - Tawnor nehiegh Powhatan. - _Salvage dialect_, _apud Capt. Smith_. - - - I stand on hallowed ground--the sacred sod - Which once an ill-starred people bravely trod - In native freedom, ere the wanderer crost - The broad Atlantic waters and love lost - The fair reward of labor, ill repaid - By base desertion--country--friends betrayed-- - Misery and exile from a native land, - Ending in death upon a foreign strand. - - * * * * * - - My spirit falls into a deeper mood - And thought goes darkly forth to gather food - For bitter contemplation;--for I trace - Some record of the spoilers of that race - Most gallant, wheresoe'er I turn mine eyes,-- - While of the exiled--neath their native skies - Is scarce a token left--save what belongs - To a sad history of unnumbered wrongs. - Methinks the very sun's departing rays - With melancholy meaning seem to gaze - Upon the hostile monuments of yore,-- - Yon ruined arch with ivy overgrown-- - Those shattered tombs of moss-discolored stone-- - That slowly moulder by the silent shore. - - * * * * * - - Might I the Genius of Old Time invoke, - This were the hour--the place--where many an oak - Tosses its arms and points to ancient graves - Beside the aisleless tower, which o'er the waves - Shall no more send its voice upon the air, - To call to matin or to vesper prayer. - Alone, it stands, like some grim sentinel - And in stern silence bids the world farewell! - - * * * * * - - Lift we the veil of vanished centuries-- - Beneath the shade and shelter of these trees - The careless Indian smoked his calumet-- - (The CHRISTIAN had not crost the ocean yet)-- - Without a thought to mar his musing, save - To strand his light canoe beyond the wave - Or fasten it with sedgy rope secure, - Lest the next tide should steal it from the shore. - But lo! one evening as he lay beside - The margin where his native waters glide, - A sight of wonder on his vision broke; - And the deep voice of flame in thunder spoke - The doom of wo to him and all his race. - Yet fear, which might have blanched a paler face, - Quenched not the flashings of his dauntless eye, - Nor for an instant quelled that bearing high - Which best became the warrior of the wild-- - The Hunter bold--the Forests' lordly child! - Ay! tho' the evil spirit of his sky, - For such well might his inexperienced eye - Have deemed it, lurked within the snow-white mist - That brooded o'er the silent river's breast, - And spoke in accents of the dark storm-cloud, - From out the folding of its gleaming shroud, - He stood prepared to meet the worst--like one - Who hath no fear of aught beneath the sun. - Methinks I see him watching by the shore, - With strained eye, intently gazing o'er - The river's course. Well may he clasp his brow - In doubt and wonder--is he dreaming now?-- - The cloud seems gathering up its folds of snow, - And straight spars glitter in the sunset glow, - Far loftier than the loftiest pine that rears - Its stately crest above its tall compeers: - Beneath--a huge dark mass is seen to glide - With stealthy motion o'er the heaving tide, - Crowded with moving forms of human mould, - But of an aspect well might daunt the bold, - Gazing the first time on that pallid crew, - So foreign and so ghastly in their hue! - But hark!--the distant shout that wildly pours - Its thousand echoes on the strand, assures-- - Swift to the Chiefs he speeds--the wise--the bold - In council meet--his tale is briefly told; - Then far and near they gathered in their might - And 'gainst the invader battled for their right, - As valiant men should for the altars reared - By their forefathers and the homes endeared - By thousand ties and recollections past - To which the heart clings warmly to the last. - But not to lengthen out a thrice told tale-- - The Red Man never yielded to the Pale, - Though forced by foreign fire to wander far, - Homeless and houseless, neath the evening star. - Slowly and sad, the western hills they climb, - Yet find no rest beyond for wearied limb - And aching heart--no single spot of earth, - Of all the wide spread land that gave them birth, - Is theirs. They gaze upon the setting sun - And feel their course like his must soon be run-- - They hear their requiem in the deepening roar - Of waves that dash upon the distant shore-- - But they must wander on unceasingly - So long as space remains for footing free, - Til hemmed at last twixt ocean and the foe - They turn to bay _once more_ and perish so. - - * * * * * - - Oh! little dreamed the tender hearted maid, - By love and her own gentleness betrayed, - That death and desolation's fellest wrath - So surely followed--in the very path - Of good intent--to whelm her race with woes - She would have warded even from her foes. - Where yonder temporary structure frail[1] - Extends across the strait its slender rail, - The shallow waves at flood scarce overflow - The sandy bar the ebb reveals below-- - 'Twas there the royal daughter crost to save - The pilgrim strangers from an early grave. - Who that had seen her on that fatal night, - Swift gliding, like a startled water sprite, - To that lone Island-Fort where calmly slept - The dreaming foe, in fancied safety wrapt-- - Who could have aimed at such a breast the shaft? - Tho' well apprised no other means were left - To baffle treason--not as such designed - In the simplicity of her guileless mind. - Had she been only destined to inherit - A portion of that fierce determined spirit - And deep prophetic hate--like vestal fire - Nursed in the bosom of her royal sire, - A nation's doom had not been rashly sealed - By mercy thus so erringly revealed-- - But it is done--and lo! the love which hurled - An ancient race to ruin--GAINED A WORLD!! - -[Footnote 1: Alluding to the new bridge erected by Collier Minge, Esq. -affording passage from the main land to the island, where a wharf has -been built for the accommodation of steamboat travellers.] - - - - - For the Southern Literary Messenger. - -THE FATED CITY. - - - 'Twas evening, and the sinking sun - Streamed brightly in the sky, - And cast his farewell beams abroad, - Like smiles of an approving god, - O'er plain, and mountain high-- - O'er waving fields of floating gold - That, round his gorgeous pyre, were rolled, - And o'er the city's glistening spires, - That flashed beneath his blazing fires. - - There lay that city;--wealth and pride - Had built their temples there, - And swift-winged commerce there had brought, - From many a clime, her trophies caught:-- - From Indian isles afar, - The pearl, the beryl and the gem;-- - But treasures, far outvieing them, - Were with that city's wealth combined-- - The priceless treasures of the mind! - - The sun went down, and night came o'er - That city's winding walls; - The white moon rose along the sky, - And looked down calm, and silently, - Upon the shouting halls, - Where music rang, and laughter went, - From lip to lip, in merriment;-- - Where all was careless, heedless, light, - Besporting on that festal night! - - An hour passed on;--what cry was that, - Which thrilled that city so? - What shrieks are those,--what means yon cloud - That wraps the temple, like a shroud, - And fills the breast with wo?-- - What mean yon flames, that blazing, run - Along that mountain dark and dun?-- - Why quakes the land,--why heaves the sea-- - Why peal the heavens dreadfully? - - Night left the earth;--the sun arose, - As wont, above the sky, - And looked,--not on that city bright, - Which he had left before the night, - With turrets gleaming high; - But on a black and blasted waste, - Dread desolation's hand had traced,-- - Upon a flood of _lava_, where - Once proudly stood POMPEII fair! - -A. B. M. - -_Tuscaloosa, Alabama_. - - - - - For the Southern Literary Messenger. - -HYMN TO THE STARS. - -BY D. MARTIN, _of Mobile_. - - - Ye burning blazonry of God! - Ye glittering lights that never die! - That pace the realms by seraphs trod! - And hold untiring watch on high! - And circling heaven's eternal king, - Ye dwell--His glorious fashioning! - - Creation saw your timeless birth, - When from your own clear sapphire skies, - Ye looked upon the virent earth,-- - An everlasting paradise!-- - And seemed to mock with silent gaze, - Nature's green garb and tuneless lays! - - Since then ye've read the world's black page, - And seen a stream sublime, - Roll its dark waters o'er an age - Of countless years of time!-- - In whose deep, dark, unletter'd caves, - Earth hides her mighty as in graves! - - Life's wasting--but ye still shine on, - And seem to me to be, - The lights upon the horizon - Of eternity's black sea!-- - Pointing to the sun-lit far off west, - Where all immortal spirits rest! - - - - - For the Southern Literary Messenger. - -TO * * * * *. - - - Believe not that my heart is cold, - And feels not friendship's sacred fire, - If I sometimes myself withhold, - And from thy festive scenes retire. - - Oh, no! I love the social bower - Where friendship smiles with joyous mirth, - And yet to me there is an hour - More dear than all those scenes on earth. - - 'Tis when in pensive mood, the mind, - Retires within itself to muse, - And some bright dream, long since resigned, - With sad though pleasing thought reviews; - - Some golden dream of early years, - When all the heart was warm and true; - And life, unshaded yet with cares, - Displayed its best and brightest hue. - - 'Twas then I dreamed of faithful love, - That would o'er time and change prevail-- - Food, fairy scenes of pleasure wove-- - Bright, verdant spots in life's dark vale. - - But time advanced, and at one sweep - My air-built castles tore away; - And, like a wreck upon the deep, - My shattered hopes and prospects lay. - - Upon life's ocean still I'm tossed; - And tho' the skies are sometimes bright, - Yet on the waves again I'm lost, - Midst howling storms and pitchy night. - - Believe not then my heart is cold, - And feels not friendship's sacred fire, - If I sometimes myself withhold, - And from thy festive scenes retire. - -L. - -_Pittsylvania_. - - - - - For the Southern Literary Messenger. - -THE GRAVE SEEKERS. - -BY R. S. F. - - - Come part the crowd, and open a way, - For those who are seeking the grave; - Some are pressing on in the light of day, - Some by the moon's obscurer ray, - Some on land and some on the wave. - - Now come with me to the festive hall, - Where in mirth they dance and sing, - Till echo is answered by echo's call, - As the merry peals ring from one and all; - To the grave they swiftly wing. - - Again with me, come haste away - Where the theatre shines so bright, - For there the lamps, with their peerless ray, - Have darkness changed into brighter day. - They gaze on the stage with delight! - - Come follow this crowd which moves as the wave - On the gently ebbing sea; - With the scenes of the night their bosoms heave, - But little they think the next is the grave, - Not of the stage--but eternity. - - See, reckless youth--maturer age - Alike are far from heaven; - In festive scenes their time engage-- - They idly sport--they madly rage-- - While to the grave they are driven. - - Ye may trace their path as ye move along - The busy crowds of care; - In the house of God--in the house of song-- - In distant isles--the waves among, - To the grave they must all repair. - - So part the crowd, and open a way, - For those who are seeking the grave; - Some are pressing on in the light of day, - Some by the moon's obscurer ray, - Some on land and some on the wave. - - - - - For the Southern Literary Messenger. - -TO A YOUNG CHILD. - -BY D. MARTIN, _of Mobile_. - - - Thou hast a clear, unsullied brow, - A bright and dreaming eye,-- - And a spirit free and chainless, - As cherubs in yon sky! - - The meteor lights of intellect, - Glance lightly on thee now, - And play like fairy revellers, - Upon thy parian brow! - - Well, be it so--and may thy life - Be like a summer stream, - That sparkles into gladness, - Beneath the sun's bright beam. - - May thy brow ne'er wear the coloring - Of passion's stern commotion,-- - Which darkens many a God-like one, - While on life's stormy ocean! - - May the sunny hours of childhood - Be the last to pass away,-- - And the setting sun of life's dark night, - Dawn on a brighter day! - - - - - For the Southern Literary Messenger. - -CUPID'S SPORT. - - "Am I in fairy land?--or tell me, pray, - To what love lighted bower I've found my way? - Sure luckless wight was never more beguiled - In woodland maze, or closely-tangled wild." - - -Some where in Virginia, and in a certain year,--but I beg you will not -inquire when or where, for you will break the thread of my discourse, -and I shall be compelled, like corporal Trim when he was rehearsing the -Lord's prayer before my dear uncle Toby, to begin at the beginning, at -every interruption,--there lived a young man, in a certain town-- - -Now my dear reader, do you suppose I intend telling you a story without -a single name, date or place in it? If you do, I am afraid you would -see me at Kamschatka, or in Simms' hole, before you would make up your -mind to travel one inch with me, or listen to one syllable. - -Well, then, in a _certain_ place, and at a _certain_ time, as young -_Timothy_ was sitting in the cool evening's shade, musing o'er the -events that human life befall, and reflecting upon the many ups and -downs he must necessarily encounter during the residue of his life, -that _old_ heathen god, who, paradoxical as it may appear, is still as -_young_ as he was at the day of his birth, I mean sly Cupid, who was, -is, and ever will be a boy to all eternity, happened to have been -snugly perched upon a branch of the very tree under which our friend -was reclining, and the little urchin sat pluming his variegated wings, -and feeling the points of his keen feathery arrows, preparing for his -evening's sport. - -Poor Tim! how little did he dream he was the subject the young god had -selected for as merry a frolic as ever fortune smiled upon in her -merriest mood. Tim was in his twentieth year,--"a leal light heart was -in his breast," he knew not the cares and anxieties of the world, nor -had he yet encountered fortune's frowns; he had enjoyed a full portion -of her smiles and blandishments, and his life had flitted along like a -gay summer's dream. He had yet to learn that all his castles were but -air built and fanciful, and it was necessary he should plod a little -upon his mother earth. Tim was none of your dashing thorough-going -bloods, who soar aloft with the eagles of the day, ever and anon to -pounce upon some harmless pigeon,--nor was he one of your gig and -tandem boys,--flourish and dash,--tinsel and paint,--who whirl about -for a season, and are all the go while the chink or the credit lasts, -but who, finally whirl off to jail, or into obscurity and -insignificance, nobody knows where, and nobody cares when. He was a -mild, pleasant, merry-making fellow. As for his person,--my dear miss, -you must excuse me; I know from your looks, you are curious to know -whether he had black hair and black eyes,--or light hair and blue -eyes,--or red hair and grey eyes,--but, really, I can't tell -you,--certain it is, he had eyes and a nose, and - - "When he happened to grin, - His mouth stood across - 'Twixt his nose and his chin." - -There he lay, all defenceless, on his right side, (I like to be -particular,) with his clean white roundabout, and his waistcoat -unbuttoned, both thrown carelessly over his left arm; there lay his -heart, gently swelling and subsiding and he unconscious of its -undulating flow--while Cupid--I was about to say, while Cupid's keen -eyes were penetrating its inmost recesses, and eyeing it as a hawk some -sunny perch in a limpid stream,--but, alas for Cupid--the ancients have -interdicted the use of his eyes; nevertheless, on the present occasion, -it is necessary for my purposes that Cupid should, at least, take the -bandage from off his eyes, and the ancients to the contrary -notwithstanding, I do maintain that the sly god has as beautiful a pair -of eyes as ever were seen,--yes, and he is able to change them at his -pleasure. At one time, he appears with the mildest, softest, kindest, -clearest, heavenly blue eyes;--at another, with the keenest, blazing, -and yet the blackest eyes that ever flashed wit, and eloquence, and -expressing all the passions that the heart ever darts through its open -portals. All eyes are his, of every hue and every form,--and at this -moment, he was using as playful and as devilish a pair, as ever -bewitched and enchanted a trembling maiden. He sat quietly selecting -the most mortal parts of that defenceless heart, with bow well strung, -and barbed arrows, and ever and anon, he placed the winged messenger to -the string and twanged his silver bow. Cupid sometimes but tips his -arrows' point with a poison, as rapid in its action and as efficacious -as the most powerful prussic acid, and wo to the youth or the maid who -feels the deadly pang; at other times, he slightly dips the barb, and -leaves it to time and circumstances to develop its potent influence. On -the present occasion, having smitten poor Tim with a double portion, -away he flew, to practise his wiles on other subjects. Gentle reader, -you are now introduced to our young friend Tim,--you have seen him in a -condition worse than that of Daniel in the lions' den, and whether he -is delivered or not your patience will enable you to discover. Would -that I could have interposed a shield to protect the youth, but what -the fates decree no mortal can prevent,--and you know, what is to be, -happens for the best. - -Have you ever seen a lady setting her cap for a beau? This is an every -day occurrence, and yet how difficult to explain, though ever so easy -to perform. It is one of those things that delicate fingers alone can -accomplish or pourtray. For my part, I have seen, and heard, and -thought, and talked much and often of these caps, that, nine times in -ten, are no caps at all, and yet the exact method of setting them is -not to be described. Were I to describe the lady's habiliments, you -would have not the least idea how her cap was set,--were I to dwell -upon the peculiar cut of the cap itself,--its points or its quillings, -its trimmings or its laces, and how it was placed, whether on the tip -of the head, or down upon the ears, or a little to one side, or -square,--or round,--it matters not, you would still be wide of the -mark; but yet, when the "cap is set," there is no mistake in the -matter. - -Good reader, you are not acquainted with my little Mary. She had as -happy a knack of setting a cap, as ever a lass had since the days of -mother Eve, and on this very evening, she will appear with it set to -such advantage, that all the family servants, as she passes them, will -utter an involuntary "umph--u--u!"--Can you conceive the peculiar sound -here vainly attempted to be embodied--for of all utterable exclamations -it is the most exhilirating to a miss in her teens. If you -cannot:--know, that it signifies, "I tell you what, young massa, you -better steer clear." Little Molly is not the greatest beauty of the -age, nor yet the loveliest flower that ever bloomed, but she was pretty -enough to make Cupid's little arrows rankle in Tim's susceptible heart, -and fate would have it, that they should accidentally meet, some how or -other, wherever they went. She had a peculiar way of her own, of fixing -on a bonnet,--a little gipsy bonnet,--down the sides of which, hung her -long flaxen ringlets, and where she parted her hair on her forehead, -there was carelessly pinned a half blooming moss rose, behind which sat -Cupid laughing in his sleeve. I say carelessly pinned, because it -seemed as though it mattered not whether 'twere there or not, and yet, -more care had been used in giving it its particular position, than all -the rest of her dress,--and perhaps, after all, this was "setting her -cap." Tim had never seen little Molly look half so sweet before, and -when his eyes and her's would meet, there was a sensation created that -thrilled through his every fibre; to him, that rose bud seemed to be -instinct with life and animation, and Cupid's laughing eyes and smiling -face made every leaf "a heart quake." Tim had been thought to be brave, -his comrades always looked up to him as a leader in daring enterprizes. -Men have been known to walk up to the cannon's mouth when the gunner -stood with the lighted match within a few inches of the powder, but to -storm a rose bud, manned by Cupid, on so polished a brow, required a -dare-devil spirit that human nature shrunk from,--and though Tim would -have given the world to have touched that bud, he could not have -advanced his finger an inch towards it by any possibility. This first -symptom of the operation of Cupid's arrows but few have escaped. You -would give the world to approach the loved object, and yet a touch -would create a shock as violent as that from a Leyden jar, well charged -with the electric fluid. Little Molly's was what would be termed a -laughing face, her clear blue eyes were lighted up by a mind vivid and -playful; cheerfulness and contentment were conspicuous on her -brow,--but yet she was one of your real mischievous little imps, who -knew a thing or two, and was up to all kinds of tricks,--in truth, she -used to say of herself that she had a little devil in her;--now don't -be alarmed my good reader; I don't mean the evil spirit who roams -about, seeking whom to devour--"that tailed, horned, heartless -chiel,--the very deil,"--but, she had a way of practising so many -little artful, innocently wicked things, and they were done in so -artless a manner, that though you would think from their effects his -satanic majesty alone was the guilty perpetrator, yet you could not -help loving his highness the more for his misdeeds. Of all things in -the world, she seemed to derive most pleasure from practising her -playfulness on friend Tim, and at every successive effort, Tim would -only exclaim, "surely the devil's in the girl! what in the devil does -she mean?" Tim had better have suffered the devil to go about his -business--but no, he kept inquiring what in the devil the girl meant, -till Cupid had him, head and ears, neck and shoulders, heart and soul, -body and life, as safe a prisoner as ever was incarcerated in a -dungeon's darkness. Little Molly was perfectly innocent of any -intention to entrap our friend; nothing was further from her thoughts; -she only intended at the outset to gratify her disposition for fun, and -she knew no more the state of her own heart than if she had been -deprived of that throbbing, thumping, turbulent member; but when -kindred hearts often sport together, and kindred eyes often meet with -kindred glances, kindred throbs will beat, awakening kindred feelings, -which some little flaxen haired, clear, blue eyed lassies find truly -difficult to obliterate. - -Reader, dost thou expect me to give thee in black and white my hero's -courtship? Of all the things in the world, the most tame and insipid -are lovers' courtships,--it may be the most interesting, animating, -soul-stirring, thrilling courtship that ever mortal breathed, but canst -thou enter into the feelings and go along with the heart in its gentle -outpourings? 'Tis not words, sentences, nor ideas, clothed in the dress -of fancy, or robed in imagination's best attire. 'Tis the look, the -touch, the action, that constitutes the universal language of love none -can misunderstand. - -I must take thee my good friend, (for we must be friends who are -travelling so cosily together,) and place thine eye at a key hole, -where "you shall see what you shall see." Alas poor Tim! I have been -watching thy movements; thou evidently knowest not what thou -doest,--instead of reading as thou wast wont, thou hast been serving -thine apprenticeship to that _manufacturer_ Cupid! Of all the epithets -that ever were applied to a heathen god, none can be more appropriate, -though I say it who should not, than this epithet bestowed by me upon -Cupid.--Cupid a manufacturer? Yes, a manufacturer. Whenever you see a -poor fellow sweating over the fire, filing, and stretching, and -polishing rings, carving hearts and diamonds, and the like, you may set -it down that Cupid is teaching his apprentice the first rudiments of -his art,--for he is the master workman who superintends the manufacture -of all such invaluable tokens, and teaches the how, and the where, and -the when, they are to be distributed and bestowed. You are now seated -at that key hole; I have told you what has been Tim's employment, make -the best use of your eyes, and tell us what you see. Who ever saw a -fellow try on a ring in that way before?--putting the ring upon the -fore-finger?--the rogue knows as well as you do, that that little ring -will not go over the first joint of that finger, but then it is so -pleasant to try, the finger is so soft and white. Trying it on the -middle finger?--he knows that the ring will not go over the nail, but -that finger is so tapering, how could he avoid it. Had it been you or -I, we should have placed it at once on the ring finger, and there would -have been an end of the matter,--but look! the fellow is trying it upon -the little finger--that finger is so little, and some how or other, so -lonely, he feels for it a tender compassion. A little finger look -lonely when in company with three fingers and a thumb? -Aye,--lonely,--and its little nail is so thin you may see the blood -circulating under it, and of all things to see the blood flowing fresh -from the heart, so delicately tinged, is----The fellow has slipped the -ring on, is gently squeezing the whole hand, and "has raised his -wistful eyes to heaven,"--and little Molly has gently tapped him on the -cheek with her fan, as much as to say "you rogue." - -Get away from the door, my good friend, you have now seen as much as we -bargained for: and my dear miss, you are curious to know what -conversation passed all the while between Tim and little Mary; I'll -tell you: there did not pass one solitary word, but two little hearts -were in as much of a flutter as ever was made by a flock of partridges, -springing from their cover. - -By this time Tim had become grave and sentimental, and oh! if you ever -heard music!--morning, noon, and night, there was the most incessant -fluting,--fluting,--fluting. It was all of that soft die-away kind, you -would have thought that Tim's soul was melting away and softly escaping -through his flute. His heart, too, had undergone as thorough a change -as that of the silk worm transformed into the fluttering moth. His mind -was etherealized: instead of the humdrum, commonplace, prosing thoughts -he once indulged in, his imagination now soared aloft,--he was dwelling -amid the heights of Parnassus, his soul was drinking in the nectar of -poesy and revelling in the ambrosia of fancy. You may talk of the -pierian spring as the fount of knowledge; you may invoke the muses from -their heavenly habitation, and Apollo and Minerva may attend in their -train, but unless Cupid's arrows have drank of the heart's blood, -tinging the sources of the mind's impressions, poesy will still be -steeped in Lethe's wave, and never spring into life's gay morn. Now, -every thought is dressed and ornamented, and oh! the fantastic -flights!--oh! the soft mellow pastorals,--the country life, the blue -vaulted arch unspotted with a cloud--nature, simple and gay; there she -is, sweetly clad all beautiful and fresh--aye, and the loved -one!--pearls and gems, and diamonds, and roses, and lilies, and stars, -and suns, and firmaments in splendor glowing, and "could the busy bee -but taste those lips, he'd quit his hollow domes to revel 'mid the -sweets upon that hallowed spot." - -As for little Molly, she, too, had undergone a metamorphosis, she who -was wont to play so many "tricks before high heaven," who loved to play -them off upon poor Tim, better than on all others, had grown so shy, -you would have sworn she hated the very sight of him. In the company of -others, when Tim was present, she scarcely opened her mouth,--to him, -she scarcely ever spoke,--of him--no word of remembrance broke from her -lips,--you would have thought he was obliterated from her mind; but -more could be read by these two in a single glance of the eye, than -volumes could express. As for me, I'd rather have the sensation -produced by one of those stolen glances than be made a king. In such a -situation, I would not be compelled to talk, by all the racks of the -inquisition--silence is delight. But at such a time, to be bored with -one of your real clatter, clatter, jabbering, never ending, incessant -talkers, is the most horrible purgatory. Poor Tim was just in this -situation. Little Molly had a noisy, officious cousin, who, he thought -uglier than the veriest hag that ever shrank and shrivelled into -stringy nothingness, and yet the girl was comely enough. She had taken -it into her head, that her cousin Mary hated the aforesaid Tim, and -therefore kindly volunteered to rid her of so troublesome a companion; -and in consequence of such sage surmises, never failed when Tim paid a -visit, to intrude herself among them;--and oh the clatter!--Tim's heart -sank within him--he came not to talk! - -My dear young miss, whoever thou art, that seest these lines, let me -advise thee as a friend, to take thyself to thine own apartment, and -remain in solitude the balance of thy life, rather than interfere in -these critical moments; for you may rely upon it that thou art hated, -contemned, abhorred and despised to a degree that is truly sinful. Thou -art cursed with ten thousand more curses than ever Dr. Slop poured upon -the head of luckless Obadiah. - -Gentle reader, (for thou must be gentle to have travelled with me so -far without wincing, and yet have heard so little,) can you tell me how -it is that when a man is in love, however rambling and roving his -disposition may have been before, as soon as he is fairly caught, he -becomes from that moment confined to one solitary route. Let me explain -myself,--for I have been carefully noticing our friend Tim. He and -little Molly lived in the same town, but at a considerable distance -apart, and yet to whatever part of the town Tim was called, he was as -certain to pass by little Molly's house as he was to pass out of his -own door. For instance, he would go to the post office, and from the -frequency of his visits, you would have supposed he had more -correspondents than all the merchants of the place put together, and -while the post office was up town, little Molly's was down town, and -yet he invariably went down town by little Molly's to get up town to -the post office. One might suppose that Tim expected to see little -Molly at the windows, but she was not one of your starers, who employ -themselves in gazing at the comers and goers, and I'll venture to say, -that in six months, Tim never saw her once, and yet go in what -direction he might ultimately intend, go down town in the first place -he must,--and he experienced more pleasure in passing that house than -in eating his breakfast or his dinner.--This is a species of -hydrophobia that I will leave you to think on and cure. - -These incidents had occurred--these symptoms had been made -manifest.--In the mean time two years rolled onwards.--Tim was in his -twenty-second year, and little Molly in her eighteenth. - -One day as Tim stood ready with his hat in his hand to take his leave -after an interview,--it had been a long and hopeless one,--looking -wistfully at her, he said energetically and in a voice deep toned--"It -is the _last_ time I will ask. If you are in earnest, I go forever!" I -listened, but could not hear the reply. There was a pause. Perhaps, -nothing was said. I thought I heard a kiss. I may be mistaken, but -certain I am, that instead of hearing Tim leave the house, I heard him -walk rapidly to the table, and throw down his hat. When I again saw -him,--the pensive, musing, meditative Tim was the merriest fellow that -ever cracked a bottle. - -When a man has had his hat in his hand, and with a wo-begone -countenance has risen to make a final adieu, under the impression that -he is utterly discarded and despised, and suddenly resumes his seat -with such evidences of change of purpose; we generally presume he has -obtained the liberty of hanging his hat up, which is tantamount to -obtaining the liberty of the domicil, and is what I should call the -gentleman's setting his hat, in contradistinction to the lady's setting -her cap. - -Day after day, go when you would, and peep into that passage, you would -find Tim's new beaver hanging upon the same hook, and these two young -innocents sitting side and side, cheek and joke, feasting on each -others' eyes. - -Tim would sometimes talk of the future, and develop his little schemes -for their mutual happiness; but if ever he touched upon that most -delicate of all subjects, the ascertainment of the period when their -two hearts were to be linked indissolubly together, all the delicacy of -the female character would instantly be aroused, and little Molly, in a -playful mood, would sing out "time enough yet, time enough yet." - -Matters remained in this unsettled condition, our friend Tim still -enduring the same uncertainty, living in that half delightful, half -vexatious state which totally unfits a man for any occupation, unless -it be "breathing soft music through a mellow pipe." Our friend thought -more than once 'twas time these scenes should be ended: accordingly he -determined to inform his good mother of his happy prospects, as a -prelude to his future movements. Many ineffectual efforts were made, -but it was a delicate business. How to commence these soft narrations -has puzzled more heads than one. He had given the old lady repeated -chances to help him out, by sly hints and inuendoes, but she would -never perceive what he was driving at. The truth was, she had selected -in her own mind a most eligible match for her son, and she could not -believe he was so blind as not to discover its advantages. Money was -the foundation upon which that edifice was to be erected; but Tim, poor -fellow, belonged to an ill-fated family. Not one of his ancestors had -ever married other than a poor girl, from the remotest antiquity, and -he had a sentimental notion of such affairs, that would forever exclude -the idea of his marrying a rich one, whatever other qualifications she -might possess. - -At length, Tim succeeded in getting his mother safely cornered, the -door shut and no one else present. Walking backwards and forwards for a -minute or two, he stopped suddenly, as if he was about to commence. The -old lady was knitting away by the fire. Instead of commencing, Tim -walked to a chair as if he was about placing it close along side and -stating the whole case like a man; but turning about, he deliberately -sat the chair in the corner and folded his arms. - -"Mother," said Tim, and then he cleared his throat. "What, my son?" "I -have been thinking whether it would not be better to have our old house -painted?" This was a new idea, one that never had crossed Tim's mind -till it was uttered, and as it happened, 'twas not an inappropriate -one. "But, my child, it will answer very well as it is, for such an old -body as I, and if you begin to paint, you will be compelled to furbish -up every thing else." "But, mother, suppose I should think of courting -some young body?" "Oh, if you will fall in love with my little -favorite, you can afford to paint and furbish too." That was a chord -Tim had heard struck before to-day. "Suppose _she_ wont love me, and -somebody else will." "Faint heart," said his consoling mother, "never -won fair lady." The old lady was off upon the old track; but Tim having -fairly begun, was not to be so easily baffled this time--so taking up -his chair, he walked deliberately to the fire and seating himself, -placed his feet upon the fender. - -"Mother," said Tim, "it is time I should tell you that"--rap, rap, -rap,--tantarara, bang--rang the old brass knocker at the outer door. -"See who is there, my son." Hang all the world thought Tim--shall I -never have an opportunity of telling the old lady? Tim took no candle -with him to the door. "Who's here?" "Harry, sir." "Well, uncle Harry, -what do you want?" "Mass Tim, Miss Mary send her complements, and tell -me give you dis letter." Tim ran his hand into his pocket and gave old -Harry a bit of silver. "I reckon," said Harry, who began to think Mass -Tim and he were old cronies, "I reckon young Missus dont send letters -to young Massa for nutting." "Wait for an answer a moment, uncle -Harry," said Tim kindly. "Who's at the door, my son?" said the old -lady, as Tim returned, holding an open letter in his hand. "A servant, -madam," was the reply. "What," said Tim to himself, as he walked to the -candle, "does my Mary want?" - -Good reader, while old Harry is waiting at the door in the best humor -in the world, because he had the good fortune to be the bearer of a -_love letter_ as he shrewdly suspected, from his young mistress to so -good a young gentleman, and while the good old lady is knitting away -and thinking how to induce her son to fall in love with _her_ favorite, -if thou wilt follow my example, thou mayst perceive what is going on -for thyself. Thou seest that I am about to take a sly peep over friend -Tim's shoulder, and if thou wilt peep over the other, thou mayst -discover what otherwise thou wilt never have an opportunity of -perceiving. - -"_Saturday Evening_. - -"MR. TIMOTHY WILBERFORCE. - -"Can Mr. Wilberforce forgive and forget one who has injured him much? -Oh! how I reproach myself for having given you hopes, my friend, that -can never be realized. Mr. Wilberforce, you must forget me; and oh, can -you not attribute my strange conduct to my youth? I am so young and -thoughtless. Indeed, I would not willingly give you pain. Can we not -continue friends? I hope we may, but indeed you must forget the -promises I have made you, and if possible forgive me. I find I do not -love you as I ought. Let us be friends, but nothing more. MARY." - -Tim had seen his mother watching his countenance while he was reading: -so putting on a smile, "Is that all? Pshaw, I thought it was something -important," said he, going to the outer door. "Harry, there is no -occasion to wait--no answer is necessary." Slam went the door. The bolt -rang with a double turn. The letter was wadded in his breeches' pocket. -"Who was that letter from, Tim?" said his mother. "A young friend has -asked me to go serenading with him," replied honest Tim. Down he sat, -with his feet upon the fender, and his arms folded over his breast. -Then seizing the poker,--punch, punch, punch--you would have sworn it -was freezing. Every coal was upturned--the room was filled with dust -and smoke. "My son, it is not very cold to-night." Tim kept stirring -the fire. "Did you desire to have the old house painted, Tim? If you -wish it, my son"--"madam?"--"You were saying, Timothy, that you were -about to tell me something?" "Did I?" Down went the poker, and Tim -paced the apartment. - -My good friend, were you in such a situation, what would you do? Only -think of that rap at the door at such a moment--of the contents of that -_love_ epistle--of that dear uncle Harry! For my part, I shall ever -believe as long as I live, that there is something in names, and that -none but a very old Harry Scratch himself could have been charged with -such a scrawl. What would you have done? Tell the old lady the whole -matter? What! with all those contending, conflicting -feelings--passions--hopes--blasted and utterly destroyed! As for me, I -think a man would be _almost_ excusable if he had walked premeditatedly -to his razor case and cut his throat. Tim did no such thing. He walked -to--bed. - -Will you be so kind as to explain to me, why little Mary--our sweet, -innocent, flaxen-haired little Molly, who was as much in love as ever -lassie was, should have acted thus strangely? You who pretend to fathom -the profundity of human motives and to ascribe proper causes for every -action, will you unriddle this enigma? But the day before, she was as -kind, as affectionate as usual, and in every way the same to Tim. From -this time forward, too, she was as friendly as any other friend; and -yet, as indifferent as if their hearts had never beat in unison--as if -their eyes had never read the inmost thought of each others soul--as if -their lips:--to me and to Tim, it is utterly inexplicable. - -Time--old father time--flies with his mowing scythe. This is the -account the ancients give of the matter, but I have a notion that we -should as well exclaim, time--old doctor time--flies with his healing -balm, cicatrizing every wound; for if it was not for doctor time, Cupid -might be more appropriately represented with his sickle gathering in -his harvest; but time with his "balm of Gilead," or some pleasing -draught, manages to cure many a bleeding heart. I thank thee, good -doctor, thou hast come "with healing under thy wings," more than once -to me. - - - - - For the Southern Literary Messenger. - -MY CLASSMATES. - -By the author of the "Extract from a Novel that will never be -published." - - -There were two among my companions at College with whom my intimacy was -particularly close. They differed much from each other, as I did from -them, in character and mental powers, but we were from the same state, -viz. Virginia, although from different parts of it; and the presence of -each of us spoke to the others of our distant homes, and formed a tie -that bound us closely together. There is besides, a strong local -attachment, separate and distinct from national feeling, (a peculiar -one, as far as my observation extends, in our country,) pervading the -native born inhabitants of that state, particularly the eastern and -southern section of it, which draws them like brothers together when -abroad. However reserved a Virginian may be to others, his heart -immediately opens to one who possesses the same birthright with -himself; and for him, if called upon, he will encounter pecuniary -inconvenience and personal risk. I have known many instances of this -feeling. But to my tale. The elder of us three, by name Morriss -Heywood, was one of those beings on whom has been bestowed the -fearful--almost fatal gift of genius. He stood pre-eminent among us -all, towering in intellect, piercing the veil of truths hid from our -dimmer eyes, revelling in the gardens of imagination barred to our dull -and every day capacities. While we with pigmy steps and slow, crept -along the paths of knowledge, urging our toilsome way with many a -groan, he pressed forward with a giant's stride, and left us a -sightless distance in the rear. His disposition too was noble as his -mind. Generous beyond the bounds of prudence--brave to the verge of -rashness--ever ready to afford assistance to those who required it--to -promote their welfare, and to condole with, and partake of their -grievances. Like most persons of extraordinary powers, his temper was -unequal. At times gloomy and abstracted, shunning all communion, -avoiding all recreation, abstaining from exercise and almost from -food,--he would bury himself in the seclusion of his chamber, devoting -day and night to intense application; then sated for a time with his -"deep draught" at "the well spring of science," he would come among us -full of life and gaiety, the soul and promoter of every frolic, -breathing into us the spirit of his own warm heart, robing common -things with the hues of his own bright fancy, and lighting up the very -regions of dulness with the quick and brilliant flashes of his wit. The -grave professors regarded him with amazement, and some of them even -with fear; for sometimes in the spirit of mischief, he would sport with -their heavy and useless learning, and puzzle them sadly with the -subtleness of his inquiries,--leading them unconsciously into the mazes -of metaphysical absurdities, and then leaving them with a quibble or a -jest to pick their way out as they could, floundering at every step, -and conscious of the ridicule they incurred. My other friend, Charles -Drayton, had no peculiar characteristic that calls for present -description. He had ordinary intellect, great application, a kind but -not a warm heart, and a disposition to submit to legitimate authority; -for all which, when we were graduated, he was rewarded with some fifth -or sixth rate honor. The busy pursuits of life soon separated me from -them after our departure from college. They commenced the study of the -law, while I doubting my powers to succeed in the learned professions, -and naturally inclined to an active life, turned my attention to -commerce, and in the course of business, was called on to leave "my -native land" to sojourn in a far distant one, and my return was not -until after an absence of many years. During those years of labor and -various fortunes, my time and talents devoted to one ruling object, the -acquisition of wealth, (but not, I trust, influenced by sordidness, or -ever induced to employ unworthy means,) my communications with home had -been very rare, and of my early friends I had received no tidings; but -often after reposing from the toils of the day, when the bustle of -occupation was hushed, and the wearied mind revolted from following up -the many schemes of aggrandizement that so constantly taxed it, memory -would roll back to those halcyon days of my youth, and the images of -Heywood and of Drayton would be mirrored in freshness to my fancy, -while I busied myself in conjectures as to their probable fate and -fortunes. Were they still among the living? Had Heywood fulfilled the -promise of his early youth, and climbed with vigorous step - - "The hill, where fame's proud temple shines afar?" - -Had the perseverance of Drayton won for him wealth and respectability -in his profession? More he could not attain to. And amid their busy -struggles, did they ever recur to the friend who was absent, with the -same deep feeling that dwelt in his heart for them? - -After many efforts, sometimes crowned with success, and often, very -often marked by adversity, fortune at last smiled upon them, and placed -me in a situation (as I was alone in the world,) of comparative wealth. -I wound up my affairs as speedily as possible, and embarked for home. -My voyage was prosperous: once more I trod the free soil of the United -States of America, and bent my way without delay to the town of ----, -where first I drew my infant breath. It was evening when I reached it. -I found it much altered, enlarged and improved; but around me were many -a memorial of the times gone by;--and as the slanting rays of the -setting sun threw their purple and gold on the broad summit of the well -remembered hills, and played in ever changing beauty on the ripple of -the chrystal stream, I seemed borne back from the present, when Time -had furrowed my brow and sprinkled his snows upon my hair, to that -past, when the smooth forehead and the curly locks, the long loud -laugh, and the joyous leap, were tokens of the happy boy. In passing -along the main road leading to the town, I had observed at some little -distance from it, a very large and handsome brick edifice, in the midst -of highly cultivated grounds, where formerly there had stood a very -indifferent wooden building, on a neglected farm, the property of an -idle and dissipated gentleman. It was very foolish to do so, and yet I -uttered a half sigh at the change; for although the present state of -things was infinitely more agreeable to the eye, it struck coldly on my -heart and jarred the chord of cherished associations. When I had fairly -established myself at the "best inn," and answered as I pleased, all -customary inquiries as to who I was, whence from, where going to, and -numberless other impertinencies, I commenced querist in turn, and the -information I then and subsequently obtained from other quarters, I am -now about to lay before the reader. Both of my college friends after -obtaining their licenses, had removed to my native town, which then -offered the best field in the state for the practice of the law. -Heywood had, as I was sure he would, commenced his career at the bar -with signal success. His very first appearance, his maiden speech, had -given him a station far beyond his youthful competitors, and indeed -among the foremost ranks of those who had grown gray in their vocation. -He had been entrusted, with others, in the management of a case of -great difficulty, and involving property to a large amount; and in the -examination of the witnesses, had exhibited a knowledge of human -character, and a power to discover and elicit truth, that in one so -young and so unpracticed, seemed absolutely marvellous; while his -familiarity with the abstruse points and technicalities of the law, -appeared as close and intimate as if he had spent years in acquiring -it. He was regarded as a prodigy, and indeed he was one. I have seen -many men in many climes, but never have I met with Heywood's equal in -native genius; and then the godlike mind with which he was endowed, was -set forth and enhanced by a corresponding face and figure. His stature -was tall and his bulk in proportion, but there was no clumsiness. His -limbs were - - "Heaped with strength, and turned with elegance;" - -His presence was lordly, with his statue-like brow, crested with short -dark curls, the Roman nose, the sharp cut lips, and the full large -pellucid eye, in which "the lightning played." His was - - "A combination, and a form indeed, - On which, every god had seemed to set his seal, - To give the world assurance of a man." - -One thus gifted was eagerly sought after, and while business poured on -him from all quarters, his society was every where courted. The -presence of Heywood was an indispensable requisite to any meeting whose -object was pleasure. Nor did he refuse it, or hold himself aloof from -the amusements sought after by others. He could be gay with the gay, -and sedate with the grave, and without an effort; and even in the midst -of what may be termed dissipation, none had cause to complain that -their affairs entrusted to his care were not faithfully attended to and -ably managed. Thus did he go on increasing in usefulness and -reputation, and men looked forward to the time when he would rank among -the master spirits of the day, and perhaps reach the highest honors his -country could bestow. Indeed a new career had now been opened to him, -which promised to lead to such a result. He had been chosen to -represent his county in the state legislature, and there as at the bar, -his success was immediate and brilliant. To him it truly seemed - - ----------------"an easy leap, - To pluck bright honor from the pale faced moon;" - -and, (to follow up the quotation,) he might fairly hope - - "To wear without corrival all her dignities." - -Such then was Morriss Heywood; in years a youth, a man in wisdom--the -possessor of genius, health, reputation and beauty; his career as yet -unchecked by a single obstacle--his hopes undimmed by the shadow of a -fear. There resided at that period in the county of ---- an individual, -who, by a long course of unremitting industry and the most grinding -parsimony, together with less honest, if lawful means, had amassed an -overgrown fortune; and having money at command, had contrived by -lending it to the neighboring farmers, (generally improvident men,) and -exacting high interest for its use, taking mortgages on their estates -as security, to make himself the real if not nominal owner of half the -landed property of the county. Having it at his will at any moment to -strip many of their possessions, he was vested with a power that -(although in their secret hearts all men detested him, and execrated -his very name,) challenged opinion, and made dangerous as regarded him -its public expression. It so happened that one of those gentlemen on -whom his gripe was fixed, and whose debt, from an originally small sum, -had swelled with usury until it covered his whole estate, had been a -patron and valuable friend of this man, who was originally his -overseer--had established him in the business with which he commenced -his career, and aided him both with money and his name. It is a well -established maxim, which hard experience has gathered from human -intercourse, that you insure yourself an enemy when you bestow a -benefit on a bad man. A noble mind may find an obligation burthensome, -and be galled by the sense of dependence created by it. This feeling, -however, does not destroy gratitude to the benefactor; but the mean and -unprincipled hate those who give to them, from the consciousness that -there is an utter dissimilarity of character between the giver and -themselves. It grieves them that any should possess a virtue which they -have not; and the performance of a good action, even although they -themselves are its object, is gall and wormwood to their souls, from -the secret knowledge that they are incapable of doing the same. This -violence of hatred which the wicked, without apparent motive, entertain -for the good, is forcibly pourtrayed by Shakspeare, (nature's magician, -who applied his "Open Sesame" to that dark cave the human heart, -penetrated its recesses, and explored its most secret nooks,) when he -makes Iago give as a reason for desiring the death of Cassio, - - "He hath a daily beauty in his life - That makes me ugly"---- - -The feelings engendered in the heart of Willis, (for that was the name -of the usurer,) by the kindness of his benefactor, were envy and bitter -hatred. Envy, that he possessed the means to be generous; hatred, that -having them he was so. But his heart rejoiced when he reflected that -this very generosity would betray itself; and as he counted his own -increasing gains, and became acquainted with the diminished and -decreasing resources of his friend, he foresaw the time would come when -their relative situations would be changed--when the patron would in -turn become the suitor, and be dependant on his former menial's bounty. -The time did come. A small loan was requested, and granted with -cheerfulness. "The spider" as Heywood afterwards said, "had spun his -first line." Then came a demand for a larger sum, which was raised with -a pretence of great difficulty. Another thread was wrapped around the -body of the victim. Slowly, silently, cautiously, these tiny lines were -drawn, with a touch so light, that they were not felt until the web was -fully formed--the prey secure--fluttering and struggling in the -toils,--but vainly struggling; for those little threads had been plied -and twisted into a cord of strength to bind the unshorn Sampson. - -Of all the galling miseries that man is heir to, the most intolerable, -the most debasing, the most corroding to the heart, the most -destructive to the mind, is the consciousness of debt without the means -of payment. Oh! what days of humiliation, what nights of nervous -wakefulness, or else of dreaming horror, does he abide, on whose -oppressed spirit is laid the load of payments he cannot meet, of -obligations he cannot cancel. For him, though the sun shines abroad, -there is no beauty in his beams. The earth is clothed with verdure, and -a thousand odorous flowers are scattered in his path. He heeds them -not; their perfume is wasted on him. The moon rides in liquid lustre, -and the myriad stars break forth in light, and the whole heaven is -clothed with exceeding glory; but there is a darkness in his soul no -light can penetrate--a grief at his heart no beauties of nature can -assuage. His energies are dead; they fester beneath the pall of -despair. - -When at last every inch of his property was covered by debt, and the -remorseless creditor was about to strip and turn naked on the world, -him from whose hand he once had fed, kind death stepped in and released -the poor old gentleman from his troubles; and what he himself was too -honorable to do, his heirs did without hesitation. They resisted -Willis's claim upon the plea of usury. Heywood was their advocate. -Fired with indignation at the base ingratitude of the man, he summoned -all the powers of his eloquence against him, and so awfully severe was -the attack, that Willis, although in general bold and impudent, slunk -away from the court amid the hisses and groans of the crowd. The very -next day, to his utter amazement, Heywood was waited on by Willis, who -placed in his hands business of great value, and paid him down a -handsome fee. - -"You see, Mr. Heywood, I can forgive and forget, as bad as you think of -me, and as much as you have abused me. The fact is, sir, you are what I -call a real clever man, and to my notion the best lawyer I've met -with--so you're the man for my money; and I suppose if I pay you your -fees, you'll do my business as soon as another man's--and I can make it -worth your while, I tell you. You said yesterday, I was a vampire -bloated with the lifeblood sucked in secret from the veins of my -victims. I remember the words, but not in malice. Well sir, when I see -fit I can bleed pretty free myself; and if you'll just consider -yourself my lawyer in all my cases, I'll pay you fifteen hundred a -year, and say done first." - -"Mr. Willis," replied Heywood, "I have no hesitation in accepting your -offer, and will to the best of my ability serve you, as I would any -other individual who called upon me. It is my trade, or profession, to -advocate that cause in which I am retained; and although I rejoice when -I find I am on the right side, I have in common with my brethren, no -scruples in doing battle on the wrong." - -And so they parted. It may perhaps be thought unnatural that Willis -should have acted in the way he did; but he was a shrewd, worldly wise -man, and could make any sacrifice to promote what he deemed his -interests. Now he had not forgiven, much less forgot. On the contrary, -his hatred of Heywood was deep and concentrated; but he knew him to -possess talents that were formidable when opposed to him, and on which -he could with safety rely when enlisted in his behalf. - -The transactions of business necessarily carried Heywood to his -client's house, where one day being detained until the dinner hour, he -was introduced to Miss Louisa Willis, an exceedingly beautiful and -interesting lady of about eighteen. He was much struck with her, and -indeed it was impossible for the coldest disposition to withhold its -admiration from charms seldom surpassed, and then in the very fulness -of their bloom. With a form over whose round and soft proportions -hovered an atmosphere of the most soul subduing voluptuousness, she was -the possessor of a countenance, whose features in themselves almost -faultless, habitually wore the bewitching expression of confiding love; -as if for all she looked upon, there existed in her bosom a living -spring of kindness; and the consciousness of her own deep charities, -taught her to expect a like return from others. She was the adopted -daughter of Willis. Her parents, poor but highly respectable people, -died while she was yet an infant, having been carried off within a few -hours of each other, by one of those pestilential fevers that sweep -whole districts of our country, and leave in their path the silence of -death or the sob of mourning anguish, where the sounds of merriment had -been wont to break upon the ear. Willis was alone in the world. There -was no human being connected with him by the ties of consanguinity: -there was not one whom he had propitiated by the exercise of kindness: -and although the consciousness that he was hated only served to harden -and imbitter his feelings, there were moments when he felt the -loneliness of his situation, and longed for something that even he -could love. - -He took the little orphan to his home, and in her found the object he -had sought. Upon her he lavished all his bounty--bestowed upon her the -best education the capabilities of the country afforded--and at a -proper age, placed her in an eligible seminary in the city of ----, -whence indeed, at the time of Heywood's first interview with her, she -had just returned.--Perhaps the disposition of Miss Willis--that of -great sweetness with very little energy or passion, was particularly -calculated to win upon such a man as Heywood. Himself all passion, -burning with the consciousness of uncommon powers, urged into action by -the ever goading stimulus of a brain that teemed with strong and -beautiful thought,--now breaking out into commanding eloquence--now -running over with sparkling wit,--it was enjoyment to him to find -repose in another. His mind self taxed to its utmost limit, was -refreshed, and soothed, and solaced by the calm and even purity which -dwelt within that form of intoxicating loveliness. Perhaps with persons -constituted like Heywood, the same ardor of passion might be exhibited -towards any object, "in whose fresh cheek" they might "meet the power -of fancy;" perhaps their glowing temperament would vest with beauty -both of mind and person, those who to common eyes had nothing to -distinguish them. Be this as it may, it is certain that he loved Miss -Willis, deeply, devotedly, ardently--with tender delicacy and with -manly passion. Whether his feelings were reciprocated by her, to the -extent of which she was capable, it is not for me to say: that secret -lies within her own bosom. Heywood thought so. He was constant in his -attentions to her, which seemed to be well received, and were certainly -encouraged by Willis. The only annoyance Heywood experienced, arose -from his feelings towards the latter. Greater familiarity with his -character had not, it is true, increased his abhorrence of it; perhaps -it had diminished it;--for as the visual eye becomes accustomed to look -without winking upon the disgusting and even the terrible, so does the -mental, and sad to say, the constant recurrence of deeds of vice, -lessens the sense of detestation which they at first inspired. But -there was something very galling to his pride, in the idea of -connecting himself in so close a manner with Willis as he must -necessarily do, if he married his daughter; only his adopted daughter, -it is true: but still in no action that could evince a parent's -fondness and a parent's care, had he been wanting to her--and he was -unquestionably entitled to a full return of that affection that might -be looked for from a properly disposed child; and as certainly did he -receive it from Miss Willis, whose respectful love for him was without -stint or measure. The struggle between pride and passion, seldom -eventuates in favor of the former, particularly where our feelings are -uninfluenced by the effect our actions may produce upon the minds of -others, and have no reference to a _degrading_ change of situation that -may be produced on us in society. Heywood might by marrying Miss -Willis, excite the sneers of the unsuccessful and the envy of the -disappointed; but he would not be the less loved, esteemed and -respected by the great bulk of his acquaintance, while by many it would -be thought a fortunate circumstance; for in the event of their -obligations falling into his hands, they might look for an indulgence -it were vain to hope from the ruthless usurer. Heywood, as might be -expected, yielded to the suggestions of his heart, and proffered his -affections to Miss Willis. She of course referred him to her father; -and with much embarrassment and hesitation of manner, Heywood announced -to him the fact, and solicited his approbation. He received the -information with a smile of peculiar meaning, of gratification--but -apparently of malicious gratification, as if he were about to win a -triumph he had been long seeking to obtain. He said but little however -in reply, nor was that little, discouraging or otherwise. He professed -himself honored by the proposal, coming as it did from so distinguished -an individual. - -"To be sure," he said, "Louisa Willis was not an every day sort of -girl, and she might fairly look for as good offers as any lady in the -country. She had that, or she would have, which was all the same, that -would command them. It commanded every thing else, _he reckoned_, even -talents. She was young enough too, and likely enough, for the matter of -that, and he had had other views for her. Hows'ever, there was no -hurry--he would see about it; he must have some little time to think -before he made up his mind: when he had, he would let Heywood know what -it was." - -To talk to such a man of the urgency of one's affections, was -ridiculous. Heywood felt it so, and therefore made no objection to the -delay. - -It was about a month after this interview, during which interval there -had been no communication between Heywood and Willis, that the latter, -accompanied by another individual, a Mr. ----, entered the office of -the former. They had called for the purpose of explaining their mutual -understanding of the nature of a conveyance which was to pass between -them, and to request him to draw it out in proper form. He accordingly -made a rough draft of it, read it to the parties, who expressed -themselves satisfied, and Mr. ---- took his leave, with a promise to -return and execute the deed when the fair copy should have been made -out. Willis remained behind. After a few minutes silence, (of torturing -silence to Heywood, for he expected he should now receive an answer on -the subject nearest his heart,) "Mr. Heywood," said the hard featured -old man, "let me see that deed." Heywood disappointed, handed it to -him. He conned it over attentively, as he sat with one elbow placed -upon his knee and his chin resting in the hollow of his hand. - -"It is all right?" said Heywood inquiringly. - -"Why--ye-es," replied Willis, "but there are one or two little words -here I would like to have changed; that is, I would like to have some -others put in their place. It's of no great consequence, but somehow -they please me better." - -"What words are they? Be so good as to point them out." - -"Why these," answered Willis, as he shewed them with his finger, and -peered into Heywood's face, over his spectacles, with half closed eyes. -"Suppose now, instead of them, you _was_ to use _such_ words," and he -mentioned those he wished adopted. - -"But sir," rejoined Heywood, "these words that I have used are -technical words, and express in a legal sense what I understand most -positively to be the intention of the parties. Were I to substitute for -them those that you propose, I should make the granter convey a title -it is by no means his wish to do." - -"Pray, Mr. Heywood, are you acquainted with Mr. ----, and do you -consider yourself employed by him or me?" - -"I am but slightly acquainted with Mr. ----, sir, and it matters not to -me by which party I am employed. It is my business as an honest man, to -execute to the best of my ability, what I consider myself intrusted by -both to perform, and that I have done." - -"Then let me tell you Mr. Heywood that I know ---- well, that he has -not had quite as much as either you or I to do with deeds, and that if -you make the alteration I want, it's a hundred to one he will never -find it out to the end of time--so where can be the harm?" - -"You surely jest with me, Mr. Willis," quickly answered Heywood; "you -cannot seriously propose to me to do that, which according to my view -of the matter, would be neither more nor less than a legal fraud." - -"A fraud, sir! do you mean to say _I_ would commit a fraud, sir?" cried -Willis, in an angry tone and blustering manner. - -"I have not said so, Mr. Willis," calmly replied Heywood; "I only said, -that with my knowledge of the law, _I_ should commit one were I to do -what you request." - -"Well then," urged Willis, "suppose you let me go for Mr. ----, and -have the alteration made before his eyes. Will that satisfy your -squeamishness?" - -"Certainly, if Mr. ---- consents to it, and is made fully aware of the -situation in which he thus places himself." - -"But _you_ aint no ways bound to tell him that." - -"Pardon me, sir, I am every way bound to do so." - -"Very well, sir, very well, we'll drop the matter then--I don't care -much about it; only you aint as much _my_ friend as I thought you -was--that's all. But let that pass, it don't signify no great deal. And -now Mr. Heywood, for what you would call a more interesting subject." -Heywood's heart beat quick. "You told me t'other day you loved my -daughter, and would like to marry her. Now, sir, suppose you had a -daughter, and you could afford to give her as much as would make the -best men in all the land snap at her--and suppose there was one man who -despised you in his heart, though he was willing to work for your -money, and who had abused and insulted you in the public court, and -refused to befriend you, in a small way, when you wanted his -friendship, and _he_ of all men in the world was just to pop up and -say, Give me your daughter and a fortune,--what would you say to him? -Would'nt you tell him, certain, and thankee to boot, sir? Would'nt it -please you to the heart to have a son-in-law, who if he could help -himself, would'nt speak to you when he met you, nor shake hands with -you, if there was any body by to see him do it? Now just answer me -that, Mr. Heywood; you're a mighty ready man with your bills and -answers--answer me that if you please." - -"Mr. Willis," stammered Heywood, "this is not--a fair way to--treat -me." - -"Aint it? Now I think it is--so there we differ again; any how it's my -way, and I can afford to have my ways as well as most folks. Hows'ever, -since you don't seem to fancy those questions, I'll try again. Do you -_really_ love my daughter, for herself alone mind you, and will you -marry her if I tell you, and I am in earnest, that if you do, you never -shall, nor she either, touch a farthing of money or an acre of land -that belongs to me." - -"Most readily, most willingly, and think myself but too happy in -maintaining her by my own humble efforts." - -"Money is not a thing to be despised, Mr. Heywood, and it would be a -heap of it I can tell you, and as you partly know, that you would be -giving up; you'd better think again." - -"This is not a matter of reflection and calculation with me, sir. It is -a feeling deep and durable, and I cannot hesitate to choose between -what I esteem my happiness and my misery. With her, portioned or -unportioned, I shall be happy--without her, though Croesus' wealth were -showered on me, I know I must be miserable." - -"Say you so, sir," shouted Willis, with an air of vindictive triumph. -"Then be miserable, for I would see her, gladly see her, and I love her -too, a rotting corpse in her winding sheet--or worse, a common beggar -in the public road, for all the world to spit on if they choose, before -you should call her wife. I am glad that you love her too. If you loved -her ten thousand times better than you do--if you went mad for love, as -they tell me some fools do, I should like it all the better. I wanted -you to love her, and I saw you would love her, and I sort of encouraged -you to do so, just that when you were fairly fixed, I might have the -satisfaction to tell you that you should not have her; and now I think -we're quits. You dared to tread upon me--to flout me in the open -court-house, before a whole crowd of people, when you could have all -the talk to yourself, and my mouth was shut and my hands as good as -tied. But my turn has come, and if I have'nt paid you back, and with a -stinging interest, my name is not Abraham Willis; and so good morning -to you. You need'nt write no notes, nor send no messages to my -daughter. She knows my mind, and she is satisfied with it. She wants no -man for a husband who has abused her father. Once more, good morning to -you." And with another of his demon like smiles, he departed. - -Heywood remained as a man stupified, without change of position or -movement of a muscle, every feature rigidly fixed as if cut out of -marble, his whole appearance more like a breathing statue than a living -creature. Yet who shall say what torturing thought was pressing on that -brain--what stormy passions struggling in that bosom. Did the uprooting -of his heart's affection, the total prostration of his hopes, the utter -destruction of his anticipated bliss, smite him to despair; or did his -powerful mind confront the evils that beset him, and although deeply -wounded, rise in triumph from the conflict? It is only by the effects -we can judge, and these to common observation were not remarkable. It -is true, he resigned his seat in the legislature, and altogether -withdrew himself from social intercourse, and save when necessitated by -his professional duties, rarely left the solitude of his rooms. There -his time was devoted to study; not confined to the acquisition of legal -knowledge, but of literature in general. He collected about him a noble -library, and made himself master of its contents; but though he heaped -up knowledge such as few possess, and added daily to his mental stores, -it was even as a miser gathers pelf, to gloat upon the heap in private, -but impart to none its benefits. Still, although he thus secluded -himself, when he did appear abroad, there was nothing of gloom about -him, or marked reserve in his manner to his fellow men. He might even -sometimes have been thought gay. He would jest himself, and laugh at -other's jests; but all this was but "outward seeming." There was no joy -of the heart--no "flow of soul"--no living sympathy with mankind, -teaching him to be glad when they rejoiced, to sorrow when they -mourned. - -There were none to whom he imparted his feelings, none to whom he -communicated his sentiments. On none of the usual topics of -conversation among men, whether of politics or literature, were his -opinions ever expressed--not even on legal points, unless when sought -for professionally. He lived strictly alone, concealing thought and -passion within the impenetrable recesses of his unfathomable mind. - -Here for the present I will leave him, to give a short account of -Drayton's career, connected as it is with the main interest of my -narrative. - -With the assiduity, industry and application for which he had been -distinguished at college, he pursued his professional studies; and -although denied the gift of eloquence, or rather I should say, -embarrassed by a slow and hesitating manner of speaking, it was obvious -enough that his knowledge of the law was sound, and that he perfectly -understood its application to the point he might be advocating. If too, -he lacked the graces of oratory, and could distil no honied words into -the ears of his auditory, he possessed that happy manner, which imposes -on society the opinion that there is a fund of wisdom and learning to -be drawn on, whenever the exigency of the case might require its use. -He had a serious, business like look, and if he walked abroad for -exercise, he seemed to have a deeper motive for the action. His -progress was nevertheless very slow in the commencement; still he -advanced by degrees, and his patience was inexhaustible. Drayton had -another advantage too, that to him amply compensated for the want of -purely professional business, and even the glitter of fame. A relation -had bequeathed him a few thousand dollars, and this enabled him to make -occasional advances to a needy client, where the claim was eventually -secure, and also to carry on a traffic in bonds, exchanging one for -another at a large discount, and thus in a short time doubling his -original capital. One or two lucky hits in land speculation returned -him large profits; and people beginning to find out his merits, as they -perceived these accessions to his worldly wealth, in course of time his -practice became respectable and lucrative. Between Heywood and Drayton -there continued the same kindness of feeling they had mutually -entertained at college, up to some short time before the philippic -delivered by the former against Willis. But about that period a -coolness grew between them. This arose from no misunderstanding or -quarrel, but simply from a dislike Heywood entertained to the very -obsequious manner Drayton exhibited towards all men who were superior -to him in private wealth or public station; and the former could not -refrain from telling him one day, after some display of the sort, that -he reminded him of Sir Pertinax McSycophant, in the "Man of the World," -who never in all his life could stand straight "in the presence of a -great mon." Drayton was conscious that there was truth in the -application of the sarcasm, and although he made no reply, he was hurt, -and thenceforth avoided one who could and would tell him disagreeable -truths. After the rupture between Heywood and Willis, the latter -transferred his business to Drayton, who received from Heywood all the -papers in his possession, with the necessary information and -instructions, which were given to him with perfect freedom, and without -the slightest manifestation of chagrin or resentment. This perhaps was -not exactly pleasing to him. He would have liked on Heywood's part some -small exhibition of a consciousness that he was deprived of a -considerable advantage. - -"This should be a valuable business I have had the good fortune to fall -into, Mr. Heywood," said he; "Mr. Willis's concerns must be very -extensive, and require much legal advice, as well as other matters in -our way. I fear he will be hardly content with my poor management, -after the able assistance he has derived from you." - -"You will certainly find the business profitable," replied Heywood; -"Mr. Willis pays liberal fees, and it depends upon yourself to make -larger gains than I have done. I congratulate you on having obtained -it." - -"I suppose I shall be so unfortunate as to have you opposed to me -occasionally, and if so, I trust you will not be quite so hard on my -poor client as you once were," said Drayton with an insinuating smile. - -"Circumstances, sir," answered Heywood, "have put it out of my power to -speak of Mr. Willis as I think of him. You need entertain no -apprehensions for your _poor_ client; he is safe at least from my -invective." - -Some few months after this conversation, rumor babbled of the -particular attentions paid by a certain lawyer, to a very wealthy young -lady, and in the course of a year, the babble was confirmed by the -marriage of Charles Drayton, Esq. to the all accomplished, &c. Miss -Louisa Willis. Drayton was now become a very wealthy and of course a -very influential man. He was sent to the legislature, then to the state -senate, thence to congress, and finally having been created a judge, he -took up his residence near ---- on a farm given him by Willis, where he -built the handsome brick house, I had observed on my return home. Two -or three days after I had fixed myself at ----, I fell in with Drayton, -whom I found much altered. He had grown quite fat, and had a very -justice-like rotundity of body. His manner was kind enough though -somewhat pompous, and he had the air of one who was on especial good -terms with himself. I dined with him and was introduced to his family, -consisting of his wife and four children; the eldest, a handsome lad of -seventeen, the others girls, the youngest about eight years old. Mrs. -Drayton, was very pale and apparently in bad health. I endeavored to -converse with her, but found her little disposed to talk. Willis was -there. He was a tall, lean man, with very sharp features--small grey -eyes somewhat inflamed, and almost hid by long bushy, wiry eye-brows, a -pinched, sharp pointed nose, thin, pale lips, much drawn in and -compressed, and a projecting chin. He endeavored to assume ease in his -manners, but his vulgarity was very apparent. There were two other -gentlemen of the neighborhood there, and on the whole, my time was not -spent so pleasantly then, or afterwards, as to induce me to repeat my -visits often, although I occasionally called in as an old acquaintance -of the master of the house. Heywood's name was of course, never -mentioned there. I once did make some inquiries of Drayton, when only -he and I were together. "Ah poor fellow, yes," said he, "he has been -absent from ---- for some time, went up the country to his brother's, -who I hear is lately dead. Heywood turned out badly sir with all his -genius,--thrown himself completely away--no prudence--ruined himself to -pay his brother's debts, and took to drinking--little better, if any, -than a common blackguard." "So much for early friendship," thought I, -as I turned away in disgust. - -The marriage of Drayton to Miss Willis seemed not to affect Heywood; if -he felt, his feelings were perfectly concealed. When he met Drayton, he -congratulated him on the event, without the slightest awkwardness or -embarrassment, although the former exhibited much of both; to all -appearance he had entirely conquered his ill fated passion. His -studies, however, became more and more intense, and his seclusion -closer than ever. He scarcely eat or slept, and took no exercise. He -gave up the practice he had hitherto pursued in the adjoining counties, -and confined himself to that of the one he lived in. This mode of life -could not fail to injure his health. He grew pale and thin, and -experienced great languor: to remedy the latter, instead of resorting -to the only proper mode, a change of habits, he applied to artificial -stimulants for temporary relief. They naturally increased the evil, by -leaving behind them when their momentary excitement had worn off, a -greater degree of depression than they had been employed to remove. He -was probably aware of this, but he changed not his course. On the -contrary he increased the dose, and repeated it the more frequently, -until gradually his libations amounted to intoxication, which after a -while became daily. This, at first, was confined to the after part of -the day, but by and by he was frequently found in an unfit state for -business, by those who called upon him in the morning. Still, so great -was his reputation as a lawyer, and so powerful were the displays he -made when he appeared at the bar, that men continued to employ him, -although they were put to the inconvenience and expense of associating -other counsel with him, who would attend to the minutiæ and drudgery of -their cases. About this time, his brother (whom I did not know,) a -careless, extravagant man, with a large family, became entirely -insolvent, and the farm on which he lived was exposed to sale. Heywood -became the purchaser, for the wife, and nearly exhausted his own means -in doing so; for though he had received large sums of money in his -profession, and might with a little economy, have been very -independent, if not rich, he had not retained much of his hard earned -gains, and money had never been to him an object of solicitude. -Besides, his library had cost him no contemptible fortune. By degrees, -as the vile and fatal habit he had acquired, grew upon him, he became -more and more unfit for business, and his clients were reluctantly -compelled to abandon him, and transfer their cases to others. Finally, -(what he had never done before,) he was compelled to run in debt. He -raised money on his books, a paltry sum in proportion to their value; -that was soon exhausted, and they were forced off at auction at an -enormous sacrifice. Hitherto, his intemperance had been confined to the -privacy of his chamber, but now he commenced frequenting taverns, where -he was frequently to be found in a state of beastly drunkenness. - -When I arrived at ---- he was absent, as Drayton stated, at the -brother's whom I have mentioned, and did not make his appearance for -several months. One evening as I returned from my accustomed walk, I -entered the bar-room of the inn where I lodged, for the purpose of -making some inquiries of the landlord. A man was sitting at a table, -with his back towards me. He was dressed in a rusty black coat, coarse, -dirty, white trowsers; shoes and stockings that were covered with the -dust of the road, and a worn out straw hat, around which was a piece of -ragged, soiled crape. I naturally took him for some common vagabond, -and paid no farther attention to him, but commenced my business with -the landlord, who was standing at the bar door with a pint decanter of -common whiskey in his hand, intended, no doubt, for his _genteel_ -looking customer; who, growing somewhat impatient at the delay I -occasioned by my conversation, called out in a hoarse voice, "Mr. -Tomlins, do you mean to bring me that liquor or no? I tell you I am -dying of thirst." "Certainly, sir," said Mr. Tomlins. "Excuse me a -moment, sir," addressing me, as he proceeded to the table with the -spirits, a pitcher of water and a glass. The man poured into his glass -about a gill of spirits and drank it off at one gulph, taking a little -water after it,--and then, without stopping, proceeded to take a second -dose. I gazed at him with mingled emotions of contempt and pity. The -landlord touched me on the arm. "You have frequently inquired of me, -sir, about Mr. Heywood; that is _him_." "Great God!" I exclaimed aloud, -"that Heywood?" He turned immediately on hearing his name, and I -hastened to him, extending my hand. "You are familiar with my name, -sir," he said, "and act as if you had a claim upon my recognition, but -I have no recollection of your countenance." - -"Have you entirely forgot then, your old friend S----." - -"S----," he exclaimed, and he rose and took my hand in both of his, and -gazed with earnestness some moments in my face. "Thirty years--yes, -thirty years have fled since last this hand was clasped in mine. They -are nothing in Time's record, but much to us poor, three-score-and-ten -mortals, and they have shown their power on us both. S----, my friend, -for _you_ were my friend, and I loved you even with the warmth of a -brother's love, I look in vain for the marks by which I once knew you. -The fair cheek of youth, the laughing eye, the bold, self-confiding -air, have fled. Age is a sad destroyer of good looks, is it not? It has -not been over lenient with me; but never mind; our hearts are filled -with hot blood yet, though sometimes I think mine is growing cold: it -will be cold enough by and by, and yours too, S----; the more's the -pity, for there are men, my friend, and you are one, who should never -die; they should live to redeem mankind from the charge of utter -selfishness; to save this Sodom and Gomorrah of a world from the curse -of an outraged and offended Heaven." - -"Heywood," said I, interrupting him, "come with me--come to my room; I -have much to say to you, and this is no place for it; I cannot talk to -you here. Come where we will be private and uninterrupted." - -"Not now, not now; I have just got here, after walking all day, for I -am compelled to take exercise on foot for the benefit of my health as -well as from poverty;" and he smiled bitterly. "I am fatigued and -soiled with dust, and unfit for conversation." - -"These are paltry excuses between friends--I cannot admit them. What! -be thirty years apart, and when we meet have five minutes conversation -in a public bar-room. That will never do." - -"Well, well, then, allow me a little time to step to my room, and I -will join you in an hour at farthest." This I could not refuse, -although I parted with him with very great reluctance, as from the -avidity with which he swallowed the spirits in my presence, I was -apprehensive he might render himself unfit for rational conversation. -There was a dreadful change in his appearance. I have described him as -a remarkably handsome man, both in face and person. He was no longer -so. I found him much emaciated, though his features were bloated; his -hair was entirely gray; and in the place of the freshness and manly -ruddiness of complexion for which he had been distinguished, his -countenance was overcast with a sickly yellow hue; and those eyes, once -so clear and expressive, were bloodshotten and dull. Age might, and -would, no doubt, have made an alteration for the worse in his looks; -but the prime agent in the destruction I witnessed, was habitual -intemperance. That insatiate fiend, on whose bloodstained altars reeks -the sacrifice of myriad hetacombs, whose worshippers, in the frenzy of -their zeal, yield up all that is valuable in life; the world's respect, -health, fortune, fame, domestic ties, their present good, their future -hope; and whose reward is racking disease, infamy, an early and -dishonorable grave. - -Before the appointed time, Heywood returned. He had undergone a -purification, which somewhat improved his looks, and he bore no -evidence of having increased his potations. We had a long, and to us -highly interesting conversation; but Heywood was not the man he had -been; the mind--that glorious mind had suffered in the wreck. It is -true he was occasionally eloquent, grand in his conceptions, pouring -out burning thoughts, and exhibiting amazing knowledge; but there was a -want of solidity and continuity in his discourse, and there were abrupt -starts from deep pathos, when he touched upon his situation, to a wild -and reckless jocularity that made me shudder. I had determined in my -own mind, difficult and delicate as I felt the task to be, to strive to -the utmost to reclaim him. It was a sacred duty devolving on me as a -friend; it was a conscientious duty belonging to me as a man; and I -felt if I could turn such a being from the path of evil, and lead him -once again to the high and honorable station he was by his talents so -eminently entitled to, it would be a deed whose reward even here would -be inappreciable, and might plead against a thousand errors at the -judgment seat of a righteous God. It required great tact, however, to -approach the subject, for his sensitiveness was very keen, and I knew -if I offended him there, I should lose my hold upon him; therefore I -waited until he himself should give me an opportunity of entering on -the subject. None occurred that night. Occasionally, as I have said, he -would advert to himself and his present miserable situation, but in -such a manner as deprived me of courage to speak upon the subject. At -one time he observed, when Drayton's name had been mentioned, "It is -somewhat strange S----, that man seems to have been born to supplant -me. Who would have thought it? The quiet, easy, dull Charles Drayton, -to supplant Morriss Heywood! Why, in the exuberance of my youthful -vanity, I should have thought my wings beat an atmosphere too refined -and rare, to sustain his heavy weight; that my eyes looked unwinking on -a light that would have seared his duller optics. And yet he reached -me, and he passed me. And while I descended in rapid whirls, until I -grovelled in the very dust, he sustained his flight and held aloft his -station. Yes, he supplanted me in my profession--supplanted me in -public life--supplanted me in love. Ha! ha! ha! It is a strange tale to -tell. What would our college mates say to it? What _does_ the world say -to it? I know what it says. No matter, - - 'They can't but say I had the crown; - I was not fool.' - -And yet I was a fool, a miserable fool; but as it is a great approach -to wisdom to know our own weakness, I am in a fair way to become a -Solon, and should not be surprised, if ere long, public honors were -decreed me. They must hurry them tho', or it will be to my senseless -ashes they will bow, and hang their laurel wreaths upon my urn. But it -grows late, my friend, and I must leave you. We are neither of us the -boys we were, when we could stare the rising sun in the face, as he -peeped upon our protracted revels. We will meet again soon." "Soon!" I -exclaimed; "yes, tomorrow; I have not exhausted the half of what I have -to say to you." "Faith, I have given you but little chance," said -Heywood; "I am in truth a sad talker. Good night, or rather morning, -for 'methinks I scent the morning air.'" And he left me, not without a -promise however, with difficulty obtained from him, that he would join -me at dinner on the morrow. He was punctual to his engagement, and I -was much pleased to find that he was free from all artificial -excitement. After we had dined, and I had discussed my usual allowance -of wine, (in which Heywood did not join, alleging that it did not agree -with him,) I proposed to him to take a stroll, for I felt as if I could -make the effort I had determined upon, with more ease in the open air, -than when seated in a small room _tete a tete_. After we had cleared -the skirts of the town, I commenced making my approaches from a wary -distance, to the subject I was anxious to enter upon. "To-day was the -first of the sitting of the superior court for this term, I believe, -Heywood; were you there?" - -"No, not I; what should I do there? I have always made it a rule not to -thrust myself into a place where I have no business." - -"Have you entirely given up the practice of the law?" - -"No, but the practice has entirely deserted me." - -"How happened that? I have heard your legal attainments spoken of in -terms of the highest praise." - -"I neglected it, as I have neglected every thing else; health, -reputation, my obligations to society, and my duty, if not my reverence -to God. This is a painful subject, S----; let us quit it. If I dwell -upon it, it will unman me, and I shall then break through a resolution -I this day made, and fain would keep." - -"Will you tell me what that resolution is?" - -"I had rather not; - - 'Be innocent of the knowledge, - Till thou applaud the deed.'" - -"Heywood! will you let me act towards you as one friend should act -towards another?" - -"How? in what way? explain yourself." - -"It is in your power to be all you have been--nay, more; for many men -rise to eminence, but how few when once they have sunk, have energy and -firmness to regain the proud height from which they fell. It may be a -work of time to you--it must be one of unbending resolution; but with -such a mind and such attainments as your's, it will require nothing -more. In the meantime, you shall not be harassed by debts, nor tortured -by poverty. I have means, my friend--ample means; wealth beyond my -hopes or wishes. It is useless to me, for my habits are frugal, and my -expenses do not reach a fourth of my income. I will place in your hands -the requisite sum to free you from all incumbrance, and enable you to -pursue the plan I propose; and it shall be a debt between us, to be -repaid when you are once more in prosperous circumstances. If this -place be disagreeable to you, remove to some other; I will accompany -you: all places now are the same to me. Do this Heywood, I conjure, I -implore you; and you will confer on me a degree of happiness which -nothing I have ever yet compassed could equal. What say you?" - -"I say as Nero said--'It is too late.' You speak of my mind and my -attainments. It must be plain to you as it is to me, that whatever that -mind may have been in the flower of my youth and the pride of my -manhood, it is now weakened, broken, dropping to decay; and what avails -knowledge, learning, the deep research into ancient wisdom, the -unwearied study of modern science? When the judgment that should direct -their use is fled, they become a pile of worthless lore. No, I am a -lost, degraded wretch--a mockery and a byword-- - - 'A fixed figure for the time of scorn - To point his slow, unmoving finger at.' - -There is nothing left for me but to die and be forgotten." - -"Heywood, you do yourself injustice. A steady course of life, as it -will remove the cause of your depression, (for your mental malady is -nothing more,) so will it the effect, and I feel confident that it -requires but exertion to regain all you have lost, and even to surpass -your former excellence. Come; be a man. Call your philosophy to your -aid--rouse from your lethargy, and start once more upon the race of -honor." He placed one hand upon my shoulder, and pointed forward with -the other: "Behold," he said, "yon blasted pine; its giant limbs have -been snapped in twain, and its lordly trunk clove from the summit to -the root by the forked lightning,--while around it in the green hues of -health, full of pride, vigor and beauty, are congregated its glorious -brethren of the forest. Bid that stricken tree drink in the life sap, -shoot out its rough red boughs, clothe them with their feathery -foliage, erect its noble crest, and stand once more pre-eminent in -loftiness and grace; and what would be its answer, as its shattered -body creaks to the passing breeze? 'There is no other spring for me.' -And that reply is mine. Therefore torture me no more; for it is torture -to me to recur to the past, or dwell upon the present. _One_ favor I -will ask of you. When I am dead, and I feel a certainty that time will -soon arrive, if you are near and survive me, bury me in some private -place, and do not raise even a mound, much less a stone, to mark the -spot; but let the grass grow over and conceal it--for even as lonely -and obscure as my latter days have been, so would I have my grave. Will -you promise me this?" - -"I will--I do," I replied, much affected. - -The remainder of our walk was passed almost in silence; and when -Heywood left me, which he did immediately upon our return to town, he -pressed my hand to his heart, and sobbed, "God bless you." - -The next day upon my inquiring for him, I found he had left town early -that morning, saying that it was uncertain when he should return. This -I regretted extremely; for although disappointed in my first attempt, I -was not without hopes I might still succeed in bringing him back to the -paths of virtue and of honor, from which he had so unfortunately -strayed. I determined at all events to remain where I was until I had -again seen him, and make another appeal to his friendship and his -pride. Days and weeks passed however, and he came not. It was now the -latter part of the month of May; the weather was delightful. I got -tired of the solitude of my chamber, and walked out to enjoy the -balminess of the air and the freshness of nature, as yet unscorched by -the ardent beams of the summer sun. I took the road that led to -Drayton's, and when I reached his gate, paused, as I had many a time -before, to admire a noble oak that formed one of the gate posts. This -splendid tree was at its base full five feet through, and its trunk -shot up a height of forty feet before it gave out a branch. Thence its -boughs spread out to an immense distance, forming a canopy over the -road, beyond the opposite side of which they extended, and mingled with -those of the trees growing there. It looked like a patriarch of the -primeval forest, and seemed destined to stand while all around might -decay. I sauntered along a mile or two, until I reached a favorite and -secluded spot, well known to me when I was a boy, and which remained -unchanged, while all else was changed or changing. There I seated -myself on a moss covered rock, under the shade of a thick leaved birch, -and while the bright waters rippled at my feet, passed in review before -my mind some of the scenes of a busy and adventurous life. About an -hour had elapsed in this pleasing melancholy of reverie, when I became -conscious that a change had taken place in the weather. The refreshing -breeze had died away, and the air become close and sultry, with that -heavy suffocating feeling I had observed in high southern latitudes, as -the invariable precursor of the coming hurricane. I made what haste I -could to reach my home, which was full three miles distant, by the -shortest path I could choose. I reached the upper part of Drayton's -enclosure, where there was an open field on either side, and paused as -well from fatigue, as a desire to ascertain whether I could probably -outstrip the approaching storm, or should be compelled much against my -inclination to seek for shelter at Drayton's abode. - -As I looked up, I perceived that the heavens were embossed with dark -clouds that hung heavily in the atmosphere, scarcely moving their -stations, or varying their forms, so completely stilled was the -breeze--not a leaf trembled on the slenderest twig. Presently, on the -extreme verge of the horizon to my right, a small, jagged cloud arose, -that rested as it were a moment on the summits of the trees, and then -darted high up the sky and emitted a brilliant flash of lightning, -accompanied by a quick, sharp crash of thunder--as if this had been a -signal summons, from all quarters of the heavens, seemingly by -voluntary impulse, the hitherto inert vapors rushed with eagle speed to -the spot, like mailed warriors to the battle field; concentrating, and -condensing their huge forms into one, vast, deep, substantial looking -body of impervious gloom, heaving to and fro with a mighty sound, like -unto the rush of liberated waters that have broken down their rocky -barrier. As I gazed in horror on this awful sight, there gradually -descended from the centre, mass on mass of clouds, as if enormous folds -of blackest velvet had been lowered down, narrowing in their descent -until they almost formed a point: and then amid the lightning's -incessant flashes, and the music of its own appalling roar, that -drowned the loudest thunder; and the groans of the forest, as its -mightiest trees were uprooted, or twisted from their stems, as a child -would break a straw; the tornado marched on its appointed path of -desolation. No words, at least none I can command, avail to describe -its horrid majesty, its incalculable power. It was as if the very demon -of destruction had clothed himself in robes of hellish grandeur, and -came in the pride of his unimaginable strength, to strew with ruins the -world's fair orb, and revel amidst his fiendish sport. I have in the -course of my journey through life, encountered many a peril, and looked -on many a sight that might strike the coward with despair, and blanch -the cheek of the bravest. The appalling cry of fire has broken upon my -ear, when my bark was rolling in the midst of the wide spread ocean, -and the apparent choice was to leap into the wave, or perish by the -flames. I have been with a crew, when the match was held by a resolute -hand that would in an instant have hurled us in the air, rather than -become the prey of the remorseless pirate. The storm upon the sea, the -hurricane on land, and the terrors of battle upon both, I have beheld; -but never did there weigh upon my heart such a feeling of unmixed -dread, such a consciousness of utter helplessness, as now--still, I was -not entirely deprived of my presence of mind--I was aware that the -force of the tornado, although it might be extended to many miles, -would probably be confined within narrow boundaries; and if I could -ascertain its course, I might place myself beyond its influence. At -this moment, however, it was difficult to conjecture to what point its -fury would be directed: for as I have said, it was a perfect calm; the -winds seemed to be enclosed within the lurid bosom of that horrible -prodigy. Its approach was certainly in a line towards myself, but how -soon it might swerve from that route, I could not tell; so that I dare -not trust to flight. While I stood thus hesitating how to act, a -horseman passed me at full speed. My attention had been so fully -absorbed, and so deafening was the voice of the cloud, that I had not -heard his approach, and barely caught a sufficient glimpse of the face -to recognise it as that of Willis, and that it was overspread with an -ashy paleness. He had not passed me a hundred yards, when as if by -magic a strong wind burst from the north west, encountered the tornado, -and turning it from the direction it had hitherto pursued, drove it -obliquely in front of Drayton's house at about a quarter of a mile from -it, and immediately towards the gate and the oak, I have spoken of. It -now moved with immense velocity from me, and feeling that all personal -danger was past, I could observe its appearance and effects with -greater accuracy. The interior of the lower part was illuminated by -_flames_, I may call them, of lightning; for so incessant and -continuous were the flashes, that they appeared as one; and I could -distinguish in the centre, large limbs of trees, and trees themselves -suspended, tossed, and whirled about like feathers. Its wake was -defined by the upturned ground, as if many ploughshares linked together -had passed over it. Whatever lay in its track was instantaneously -destroyed. It drove full upon the giant oak, and the forest Titan on -whom many a storm had harmlessly broken, whose noble head was scarcely -bowed in recognition of the furious gale, was wrenched, and severed -from its trunk, and dashed upon the ground; that trembled as it -received the enormous weight, as if an earthquake shook it. The -destroyer passed on, and I stood watching it, until its noise was lost -upon my ear, and its form had faded from my sight. Slowly then I bent -my steps forward, mentally returning thanks to a gracious providence, -for my escape from so imminent and appalling a danger. Suddenly, the -recollection of Willis rose upon me, and a strong presentiment that he -must have been overtaken by the cloud pressed upon my mind, and filled -it with horror. The presentiment was destined to be realized. I -quickened my steps, and as I approached the gate, I found the road so -much impeded by the broken boughs and scattered fences hurled about in -every direction, that I was compelled to make a considerable circuit in -Drayton's field, to enable me to overcome the various obstacles that -obstructed my passage. As I saw no trace of Willis, I began to hope he -might have escaped, although it seemed scarcely possible; at all -events, I thought it would be but proper for me to step to the house, a -distance of some five hundred yards, and see if he had arrived in -safety. I had, it is true, no respect for him, and perhaps his death -could scarcely be deemed a calamity; but he was one of the great family -of man, and what right had I to sit in judgment on my fellow creatures? - -I found Drayton at home, standing at the front door, surveying the -ravages committed on his estate. He greeted me, and commenced a -harangue on the terrible phenomenon he had witnessed, which I cut short -by inquiring if Mr. Willis was within--"within! No he had not seen him -for several days." As briefly as I could, I then informed him of -Willis' passing me on the road, of the obvious danger he had incurred, -and requested he would accompany me with some of the servants, with -axes and other implements, that might be necessary in prosecuting our -search. He hastened to comply with the request, and we soon set forward -with some dozen assistants. We commenced our disagreeable undertaking, -at the gate on the lower side of the prostrate oak, which lay obliquely -across the road, endeavoring every now and then, to peep through the -confused mass of tangled and shattered boughs that lay in heaps about -us. Presently, one of the negroes uttered an exclamation, and pointing -with both hands, cried out that he saw a man under the tree. We -immediately gathered around him, and looking in the direction -indicated, could perceive not only the object he had discovered, but -also the prostrate body of a horse. There was now little doubt that -Willis had here met his wretched fate. - -The sun, which had come forth, was about an hour high, but we had great -difficulties to overcome before we could reach the spot, where the body -lay. One of the men was despatched to the house for further assistance, -and we soon had all the efficient laborers of the estate at work; while -the boys and women, whom curiosity brought there, were employed in -holding torches, for the evening shades had fallen, before we got half -through with our labor. At length, we succeeded in freeing Willis's -body from the superincumbent load that pressed upon it. Life was -totally extinct; his death had doubtless been instantaneous, for his -bones were broken in many places, and the scull driven in, until its -sides almost met. We hastily constructed a hand-barrow on which we laid -the mangled remains, and were about to move off, when one of the boys -came running to us from the wood on the opposite side to the gate, and -with terror in his looks, informed us there was another man lying dead -there. We hastened to the spot, which there was little difficulty in -reaching, for the individual lay just on the skirt of the prostrate -trees, and had probably been struck down by an upper bough as it fell. -His face was towards the ground, and his hands outstretched. The back -of the head had received a severe wound. We gently turned the body -over. My heart sunk within me and a faintness came over my senses, as -the light of the blazing torches revealed to my view the pallid face of -Heywood. I soon recovered, however, and stood and gazed upon the -features of the corpse, those features that I had so often seen lit up -with intelligence, now rigid in death. Those eyes, whose piercing beams -once reached the very hearts of men, and gazed upon their secret -motives, had lost their "speculation," and those lips whose surpassing -eloquence once filled his hearers with deep delight, ruling them with a -master spell; now rousing apathy into action, now stilling passion in -its wildest mood; were hushed in eternal silence. Before us was the -motionless form of clay, the immortal spirit had ascended to its God. -Both the bodies were removed to the house. The remainder of that night, -I sat by the corpse of Heywood. The next day, I procured a plain -coffin, and taking with me a couple of assistants, proceeded to the -place where I had reposed after my walk on the preceding afternoon. At -the foot of the birch tree we dug his grave, and heaped the earth upon -the coffin to the level of the plain, and over it we spread the verdant -turf: and there, in his "narrow and obscure bed," sleeps the misguided -son of genius; while a splendid mausoleum marks the spot where the -bones of Willis lie, and a marble slab records his thousand virtues. - - - - - For the Southern Literary Messenger. - -The study of poetry has been to me its own exceeding great reward: it -has soothed my afflictions; it has refined and multiplied my -enjoyments; it has given me (or at least strengthened in me) the habit -of wishing to discover the good and the beautiful in all that meets and -surrounds me--_Coleridge_. - -STANZAS. - - - It is the Fall! the season now, - Of rustling airs--of fading flowers; - And Nature with a saddened brow, - Sits brooding o'er her leafless bowers. - Yet Autumn's reign was aye to me - A season of felicity! - - I'm standing in a dark recess - Of a vast, dim, primeval wood, - And on me is the consciousness - That springs from such a solitude. - No sounds are nigh save those I love-- - No scene my heart's content to move. - - A streamlet, gushing from above - Goes dancing past me wild and free, - As the fond boy is said to rove, - Commission'd by Love's Deity. - But _he_ in cities gaily flaunts, - While _this_ seeks only nature's haunts. - - And as it tracks the forest's maze, - Through greensward alleys wand'ring wide, - Affects not Folly's treach'rous ways, - Nor looks to Fashion for its guide. - How lulling to my sense its song,-- - As thus it sweeps its course along! - - The winds are also stirring now, - In murm'ring tones, yon stately pine, - Whose giant branches tend to throw - A deeper shadow o'er this shrine-- - This nobler shrine than priest or king - Is wont to use for worshipping. - - But lo! 'tis sunset--and the dew - Is settling fast on herb and tree; - Darkness will soon be shrouding too - Each object in obscurity. - My steps again I therefore turn, - _To mix with man, and inly mourn!_ - -* * * - - - - - For the Southern Literary Messenger. - -SONNET. - - - There is a splendour in these southern skies, - Ofttimes at sunset, which I've nowhere seen, - Wide as my range about the world hath been, - Save on Italian shores; and there the dyes - Have less of magic in them!--Who that tries, - (Artist or Bard,) to paint such glowing hues - As, in the west, mine eye this moment views, - But must confess how passing far it lies - Beyond his utmost skill?--High o'er my head - A blue intense fades into purplish gray; - And this anon to richer tints gives way, - Of yellow--orange--then of deepening red, - Until at length, in his all gorgeous bed, - Proudly sinks down the monarch of our day. - -* * * - - - - -ORIGINAL LITERARY NOTICES. - - -POEMS BY A COLLEGIAN, Charlottesville, Va. Published by C. P. McKennie. -Printed by D. Deans & Co. 1833. - - -A neat and unpretending volume of poems, with the above title, was -issued last year from the Charlottesville press. As a Virginia -production _altogether_, and the first fruits of poetical genius, -emanating from the University of Virginia, the collection deserves -honorable mention in the pages of the Southern Literary Messenger. - -Criticism might be disarmed of some of its wonted severity, when it is -known that all the poems contained in this volume, were written by the -author between the ages of sixteen and nineteen. This fact, however, -only increases our favorable opinion of his talents, and induces us to -estimate still higher his natural powers of mind. - -We propose, instead of an analysis of the volume before us, and a -regular review of its contents, to extract specimens of the POETRY, -which struck us as displaying that fire of genius so necessary to -constitute a true POET. Our readers we are sure will agree with us in -the favorable opinion we have expressed, after they have perused these -specimens. - -One of the best and most spirited of the poems, is the Address to -Constantinople on its anticipated fall, written on receiving -intelligence that the Russian army was on its march to that capital in -1829. We give the two first stanzas. - - "Thy plumes are ruffled now, proud bird! - O'er land and ocean, forest, solitude, - The echo of thy last, sad shriek is heard!-- - The glance of majesty - Is quailing now from thy fierce eye, - And the deep wailing of thy scattered brood - Is dying to a murmur. Sadly dark - Is thy soiled plumage, and thy gilded crest - Has fallen--so often fall the loftiest and the best. - Hark! - To the tread of the devouring foe!-- - But ere thou art laid low, - Shall not one last avenging blow - Be struck? Rouse thee, proud bird! - Thy voice of triumph 'mid the nations, yet - May swell from mosque and minaret-- - May with the bravest and the first be heard! - - Stamboul! proud city of the East! - Sister of Rome!--old mistress of a world-- - Wilt thou from thy high state be hurled? - Shall not thy sinewy arm be strung - With its accustomed power?--at least - Gird on thy mail, and let thy dirge, - If thou _must_ die, upon the battle's verge, - Amid the shock of arms, be sung!" - -The energy of the language and the appropriateness of the figures, -appear to us worthy of high praise. - -We have several beautiful descriptions of calm and quiet scenery. What -follows, contrasts admirably with the lines we have just quoted. - - "I look upon the stars sometimes--I love - To watch their twinkling in the azure ground - Of Heaven's o'er-arching canopy, where move - Ten thousand worlds--which, starting with a bound-- - Plough with fiery track, the unseen waves - Of fathomless immensity; to see, - Age after age, that sky hung o'er the graves - Of buried nations, as a tapestry-- - A funeral canopy when dyed with gloom; - That sky, which, robed in majesty, looked bright - Upon Columbus, when he sought the tomb - Of all his hopes, or strove to snatch from night, - And claim the birthright of a world. 'Tis when - I view the stars, bright handmaids of the moon-- - Who walks among them as a virgin queen-- - That, with those stars to riot, seem a boon - From Heaven; I love to see that moon's pure beams-- - Like lightning shot upon the watery waste, - Which like a mine of living diamonds gleams-- - Each sparkling but an instant--as in haste - To hide its liquid lustre in the wave-- - A jeweled bathing place--a starlit home-- - Fit--ay, beautifully fit to lave - The light of worlds in upper air which roam." - -There is much of that highly romantic and poetical imagery in this, -which must please every reader of taste. A stanza of similar style is -in the lines to page 32. - - "And when the stars were breathing out - Their holy light to earth, - And diamonding the glad blue sky - For the young moon's queenly birth, - I've gazed upon some lovely one, - And thought that it might be - A glorious home in the afterworld, - In which to live with thee." - -And this at page 82. - - "The air is like a tideless sea - Of pure and silvery light, - And the waters glance transparently, - Illumed by the queen of night. - - The crested waves as they dash on high, - And dissolve in pearly beads, - Appear as a carpet spread gaudily, - Where the giant sea-god treads." - -There is much, too, in the following lines, which comes over the senses -"like the sweet south." - - "Evening is stealing with her nectared breath, - Slowly and calmly down to kiss each flower - That pouteth in rich beauty from beneath - Its emerald colored guardians--the bright leaves-- - ('Tis strange what solace brings that magic hour - To every heart that hopes, or loves, or grieves-- - It is the fitting time for fervent prayer, - Which rises holily on kindred air-- - For then the air _is_ holy--'tis the time - For love--the only time to gaze and die - Beneath the lustre of a diamond eye; - Yet strange to tell, it is the hour for crime!) - In golden majesty the glorious sun, - With light too pure for eye to gaze upon, - Is sinking slowly in the gorgeous west-- - A monarch going proudly to his rest.-- - He's gone, and mellow twilight creeps along - As gently as the cadence of a song,-- - Twilight, to whom each poet in his day, - Hath breathed melodious and impassioned lay, - While o'er his soul thy witchery was stealing, - As sweetly as the whispered tones of feeling. - - Evening--'tis then the o'er fraught heart doth pour - Its wealth of pious incense at the shrine - Of deity--the spirit then may soar - Into those regions where the angels twine - Wreaths for the glorious of our earthly race;-- - 'Tis then that we can see, and feel, and trace - His glory in the realms of starry space!" - -We were pleased with the lines to ----, commencing thus: - - "Memory! Memory!--'tis like the talisman - We read of in the page of Eastern story, - That magi used the inmost soul to scan - Of friends or foes; or oft mayhap to call - From his bright crystal, gold, or diamond hall, - Some brother in his supernatural glory-- - The talisman of feeling, that doth bring - Back on the heart the deeds of other days, - With all their dark or glorious coloring-- - The wizard of the soul, whose wand can raise - The disembodied spirits of the dead - Palpable as it were to touch;--impress - The face of such as long ago have fled - Into their state of holy blessedness, - Upon the mind." - -The poem, with which the volume opens, "To My Country," contains many -brilliant passages;--and throughout the work, the reader will linger at -almost every page to dwell upon something which must please his fancy. -Indeed the extracts that we intended to have made have so multiplied -upon our hands, that we have not now space to give place to them all. -We trust, however, that what we have given will suffice not only to -show that our own opinions are correct, but to bring the public, and -especially the Virginia public, better acquainted with the author and -his work. In a future number we may adorn the columns of the Messenger -with further extracts from the POEMS BY A COLLEGIAN. - -In the preface, the author states that his motive for preserving his -poems in their present form, was his desire "to leave among those who -have taken an interest in his welfare, and with whom he has been in -habits of daily intercourse, a slight memorial of himself, ere more -important duties urge their claims to consideration." We know that his -Alma Mater will always be proud of such a son, and that his friends, -with him, under her instruction will long cherish the "memorial." A -favorable opinion of it will, however, not be confined to them alone. A -discerning public will see and appreciate its excellence. - - - - -MY NATIVE LAND, AND OTHER POEMS. By Frederick Speece. Philadelphia: -Printed for Augustine Leftwich, Lynchburg, Virginia. 1832. - - -Having been obligingly furnished with a copy of these poems, we take -pleasure in introducing them to the notice of the public. We are -somewhat surprised to learn that although published two years since in -Lynchburg, they have attracted no notice in that quarter, either of -applause or censure. It is perhaps, more agreeable to an author, that -his works should come under the lash of satire, than that they should -pass altogether without observation. The chilling neglect of the public -however, furnishes no stronger proof of a writer's demerit, than do the -too frequent carpings of illiberal criticism. Some of the greatest -poets have been doomed whilst living, to indigence and obscurity, and -owe all their honors to posthumous fame; and it is asserted of Homer -especially, that seven cities claimed the honor of his birth, not one -of which perhaps would have furnished a morsel to save him from -starving. - -We design not to raise extravagant expectations respecting Mr. Speece's -poems--nor can we hazard the conjecture that the praise of future times -will compensate him for contemporary injustice. We do not hesitate -however, to recommend his work as incomparably superior to much of that -glittering trash which passes under the name of poetry. There is a vein -of good sense,--of just and honest feeling--of tender melancholy--and -sometimes of rich imagination--which runs through his volume, and which -cannot fail to delight such readers as have any soul for poetical -composition. His versification for the most part, is sweet and -melodious--though occasionally there is a little inattention to -syllabick quantity, which produces rather an unpleasant effect upon the -ear. There are other faults too--but they are inconsiderable when -compared with the many redeeming beauties which shine through the -volume. The poem of "My Native Land," in its general tone and harmony -of verse, brings to recollection Goldsmith's Deserted Village--and the -"Sketches," which are also descriptive of the pleasures of juvenile -life and the picturesque scenery of his native hills--contain many fine -passages. In the "Juvenalis Redivivus"--the author has pointed the -arrows of satire against men and manners with no little severity--so -much so, that he has found it necessary in his preface to acknowledge -that time had softened much of the harsh coloring which he had thrown -into his pictures. Many of his minor pieces abound in beautiful -thoughts, expressed in smooth and flowing numbers--and upon the whole -we think if Mr. Speece had been sufficiently encouraged in early life -to persevere in the delightful but unprofitable task of poetical -authorship--he might have reached a highly respectable rank. The -following passage from "My Native Land," will probably remind the -reader of Cowper's touching address to his mother's picture. - - "My mother! Melancholy was the morn - That found me orphaned, and almost forlorn. - My friend! My guide! Oh, could not mercy save - Her for her child, or lay me in her grave! - Why cheer my drooping and unsheltered head, - When to the skies her gentle spirit fled? - Why bid me live, since riper years must pay - Their long arrears to that lamented day? - I had a mother, tender, kind and true, - Her virtues many and her failings few; - With warm solicitude and watchful eye, - She taught me what to follow, what to fly; - And warned me disappointment and distress - In life must be my portion, more or less; - That fierce disease would often banish health; - Pride point the insolence of power and wealth; - Folly and vice allure; pretended friends - Abuse my confidence for private ends; - And fears and sorrows, hovering round my head, - Pursue me to my last and narrow bed. - Yet would she say, in Virtue's path was found - A balm to heal the bosom's deepest wound: - Winged my young thoughts to better worlds above, - There to repose my confidence and love. - Her fond affection never would deceive, - But these were things I could not then believe. - Yet though her warnings vanished from my mind, - Her precepts left a faithful trace behind;-- - In memory's careful records still remain, - And long experience proves they were not vain." - -The same poem concludes in the following lines--being a farewell -tribute to the place of his nativity. - - "Adieu! Perhaps forever! Should it be,-- - 'Land of my Fathers! I will think of thee,' - Long as its motions last, and vital heat, - Within my heart, thy lovely name shall beat.-- - Tho' rude thy piny hills, a thankless soil, - Whence scanty products meet the tiller's toil, - Tho' thy wild scenery, and thy fickle clime, - Exhibit little beauteous or sublime;-- - And timid Superstition's witching tales, - And Gothic ignorance linger in thy vales; - The charms that could my infant love engage, - Have fixed the feelings of maturer age. - So strongly linked to joys and sorrows past-- - I loved thee first--loved long--will love thee last. - Whether, where Beauty taught me first to feel, - And mutual passion fixed the sacred seal - On treasures, Heaven reserved for me alone, - A friend, a bosom dearer than my own, - On Staunton's banks my wandering feet shall rest, - Or in some Eden of the rosy West, - In Alabama's ever verdant clime, - Or where the wild Missouri rolls sublime; - Or, 'mid the Bedford hills, whose limpid streams, - Pay scanty tribute to the mighty James.-- - Land of my birth! and where my fathers sleep, - Oft shall remembrance turn to thee and weep, - And though my steps be doomed to wander far, - Affection tremble to her Polar Star, - Till the last throb shall lay this bosom low, - Where _Memory_ and _Affection_ cease to _glow_." - -We select a passage at random from the satiric poem, as a fair specimen -of the author's style and manner. - - "There was a time, our good old fathers say, - (Perhaps it was so in their better day,) - When coats and gowns were patch'd without disgrace, - And men wore hats that cover'd all the face; - When ragged virtue was not kick'd aside, - Nor worth and equipage identified, - Nor taste and genius by possession squared, - Nor merit sold, like riband, by the yard. - Temperance and charity were then esteem'd, - And men and women were just what they seem'd. - Labor and health with vigor strung their arms, - Themselves less cultivated than their farms. - No smart young master, impudent and vain, - Play'd with his cue, or silver-headed cane, - Forsook his grammar ere he learn'd the rules, - To pilfer pins, or rifle reticules; - Nor beardless hero boasted laurels won, - From maids deceived, or jilted, or undone. - The rosy girls, content with native bloom, - Sought not the flowing robe and waving plume; - Nor wish'd to gain the empire of a heart, - Where half the victory was achieved by art. - No wanton fashion taught with lace to deck, - The shorten'd waist, and lengthen down the neck. - No everlasting clack of slanderous tongues, - Raised sad solicitude for female lungs; - Nor had the sex divided all their cares, - To sorting silks and mangling characters." - -If Mr. Speece were at this time a younger man than we presume him to -be, we should take the liberty of pointing out some of his defects--but -various allusions in some of his minor pieces, authorise the inference -that his affections are now almost alienated from the once charming -society of the muses. Domestic sorrow seems to have had no -inconsiderable share in producing this result. His "Apology to A. L. -Esq."--is full of the poet's as well as the father's anguish at the -sudden death of a favorite son sixteen years old. We give the whole to -the reader. - - "The generous friend may justly claim - The offspring of my musing, - But to excite the Muse's flame - No more obeys my choosing. - Life's warmest hopes, its light and pride, - Fail'd with my darling when he died. - - My harp, that once in rapture rung, - Full-toned to joy and gladness, - Lies all unheeded and unstrung - Beneath the cloud of sadness; - Vain were the task, the effort vain, - To wake its thrilling notes again. - - Once skill'd to wreath poetic flowers - Around the brow of Beauty, - My hand has now forgot its powers, - Nor heeds that gentle duty; - Fled is their bloom; the task were vain, - To wreath those wither'd flowers again. - - The heart that feels the mortal stroke, - The bosom anguish-riven, - Sinks hopeless as the blasted oak - From the fierce bolt of Heaven: - The oak no genial season feels; - The wounded bosom never heals. - - Youth may regain its honors reft, - And bloom again in gladness; - Age, when bereaved, has little left - But ever-during sadness; - And gathering years and grief dissever - Hope from the heart that bleeds forever." - - - - -A VISIT TO TEXAS: Being the journal of a traveller through those parts -most interesting to American settlers. With descriptions of scenery, -habits, &c. &c. _New York:_ Goodrich & Wiley. 1834. - - -The proximity of Texas to the United States,--the facilities of -intercourse between the two countries--and the migratory habits of our -citizens,--are sufficient to invest with more than ordinary interest -every thing which relates to that part of Spanish America. The volume -before us, is an unpretending and agreeable narrative, and is -calculated we think to do good, by pointing out the mischiefs and -inconveniences of emigration to the Mexican republic, and especially by -calling the public attention to the many ingenious frauds which are -practised by land companies and speculators. The author was a purchaser -of twenty thousand acres from the Galveston Bay and Texas Land Company -through their agents at New York, and full of golden dreams about this -new Eldorado of the south west, he embarked in person at New Orleans, -in order to take possession of his splendid principality. His -disappointment and vexation may be easily imagined at finding himself -on his arrival totally deceived on the subject of his title! It was not -worth the parchment on which it was written, and after all his -fruitless expense, anxiety and hardship, he did not enjoy even the -melancholy satisfaction on his return to New York of obtaining from the -trustees their sympathy, much less remuneration. Our traveller might -indeed have acquired "a quarter of a league of unappropriated land, on -condition of professing the Roman Catholic religion, becoming a citizen -of the Republic of Mexico, and residing on the soil for six years, -receiving his title from the government;"--but he was too conscientious -and honorable to submit to such requirements. The truth is, that whilst -there is much in the climate and soil of Texas to allure the settler, -there are also numerous objections which ought to discourage the rash -experiment of emigration. Our own country, particularly in its new -states and territories--holds out sufficient inducements to such as -find it either convenient or necessary to change their abodes; and -there are no superior advantages in a residence on the Brassos or -Colorado to compensate for the sacrifices of friends and -connexions,--free government and the rights of conscience. It seems to -us therefore to be little short of fatuity, especially in the present -unsettled state of the miscalled Republic of Mexico, for a citizen of -the United States to abandon for a settlement in that quarter his -native land, unless indeed, he be a violator of its laws and a refugee -from punishment. - -In truth, it appears that this desperate class of men constitute no -inconsiderable portion of the population of Texas;--and our author -relates that on one occasion he sat at the same table with no less than -four murderers who had fled from justice. True, there is a large -portion of the country extremely beautiful and fertile, and the labors -of the planter and herdsman are richly rewarded;--but these advantages -are greatly counterbalanced by the insecurity of the government and -laws--the intolerance of religious bigotry--and the absence of most of -the elements which constitute a virtuous and happy community. Minor -evils and inconveniences are also felt. The spacious plains and -luxuriant prairies--though they furnish abundance of food for horses -and cattle, are scantily supplied with wood, and altogether destitute -of stone;--and the usual incidents of southern latitudes,--bilious -fever,--poisonous reptiles and insects, and alligators of enormous -size, serve to fill up the revolting picture. - -We have no fears therefore, notwithstanding the enchanting coloring -which even the temperate feelings and chastened imagination of our -author have thrown around a Texas landscape--that there are many -persons of sober minds, when they shall have balanced the good with the -evil, will be much enamoured with the thought of a permanent "visit" to -that region. The book, therefore, may be recommended as a tolerably -certain antidote to any lurking desire for a ramble across the -Sabine,--and if perchance the spirit of migration shall have become too -obstinate for cure,--it may still have the effect of confining the -wanderer's steps within the limits of our own republic. - -There are many things in our author's narrative both curious and -amusing--and not among the least so, is the account he gives of that -intractable animal, the _mustang_, or wild horse of the country. With -one of that strange species he was necessarily obliged to cultivate an -intimate acquaintance, having no other means of transportation between -different parts of the country. The manner in which they are reduced to -subjection, and the untameable perverseness of their nature, are thus -related: - -The first thing to be attended to, was the purchase of a horse; and -this was easily effected. The small horses of the country, called -_mustangs_, introduced by the Spaniards, and now numerous in the more -northern prairies, run wild in droves over these parts of Texas, and -are easily taken and rendered serviceable by the inhabitants. When -caught, it would be a problem to a stranger to confine them, where -there is neither tree nor rock to be found: but the Mexicans put on a -halter, knot it at the end, dig a hole about ten inches deep, put in -the knot, and press the earth down upon it. The pull being sideways is -at a disadvantage, and the horse is unable to draw it out. They are -driven to market, purchased for three or four dollars, branded, -hobbled, turned out again, and entirely abandoned to themselves until -they are needed. Whenever a vessel arrives, some of the inhabitants -send into the woods and cane brakes for such a number as they suppose -may be wanted by the passengers; and this I found had already been done -in anticipation of the wants of those who came in the sloop Majesty. In -the log stable belonging to Mr. Austin, at whose house I lodged, I saw -a number of them, with all the wild look which might be expected from -their habits of life. They are small, generally about 13 hands high, -well formed, rather for strength, and of different colors. I saw others -in several other stables; and at length made choice of a white one; and -having paid for him a doubloon and four dollars, (a handsome advance on -his original cost,) stuffed a pair of saddle bags with a few articles -of food as well as clothes, and was soon ready for my journey. - -As the brands on horses afford the only evidence of their identity, and -the property of their owners, the rules observed in respect to them are -very strict. - -These horses are very useful in the country, and may perhaps become at -some future time a valuable article of export, as they are innumerable, -and cost only the trouble of catching. This is done with a strong -noosed cord, made of twisted strips of raw hide, and called a _lazo_, -which is the Spanish word for a band or bond. It has been often -described, as well as the manner of throwing it, as it is in common use -for catching animals, and sometimes for choking men, in different parts -of America inhabited by the descendants of the Spanish and Portuguese. -A man on horseback, with a rope of this kind coiled in his left hand, -and one end of it fastened to the horse, whirls the noosed end in the -air over his head as he approaches the animal he intends to seize: and, -on finding an opportunity, throws it over its head or horns, and checks -his horse. The noose is instantly drawn tight, and the poor creature is -thrown violently down, without the power of moving, and generally -deprived of breath. They are sometimes badly injured, and even killed, -by bring dashed to the ground; but generally escape with a severe -practical lesson on the nature of this rude instrument of civilization, -which they afterwards hold in great respect all their lives, yielding -immediately whenever they feel it again upon their necks. - -The mustangs often carry to their graves evidence of the violent means -adopted by the Mexicans in breaking them to the bridle. Many of them -are foundered, or otherwise diseased. A horse which has been lazoed is -blindfolded, mounted by a rider armed with the heavy and barbarous -spurs of the country, after having their terrible lever bits put into -his mouth, a moderate pull upon which might break his jaw, and if he -runs is pricked to his speed, till he falls down with exhaustion. He is -then turned in the opposite direction, and cruelly spurred again. If he -is found able to run back to the point from which he started, he is -thought to have bottom enough to make a valuable horse: otherwise he is -turned off as good for little or nothing. The process is a brutal one; -and the agony inflicted by the bits is extreme: as blood flows freely -from the mouth which is often greatly swollen; and the animal yields to -mere force. - -In the morning we mounted our horses and proceeded to the river, where -the ferry boat, a large scow, was lying near the shore. I dismounted, -and taking the bridle in my hand, attempted to lead my horse in after -me. Most fortunately I was looking at him, and was better prepared than -I was sensible of being, to make one of those sudden instinctive -motions, which sometimes prove essential to our safety. Had I been -turning the other way, or a little less active, I should probably have -lost my life, or at least have been seriously injured: for instead of -following me into the boat, as an honest horse should, and as I had -expected him to do, he fixed his eyes upon me with a malicious -expression, and sprung at me like lightning, clearing the ground -entirely, and making a leap of about eight feet. I jumped aside, and -barely in time to avoid his feet, with which it seemed to me he -designed to beat me down. I do not know that I ever had experienced -such feelings as this occurrence excited in me. It betrayed a degree of -spite mingled with craft which I had never seen in an animal of his -species; and laid the axe at the root of all that confidence and -attachment which a traveller loves to exercise towards his horse. I -have been thus particular in mentioning this little occurrence, because -the wit of the country appears to be largely invested in the horses; -and this was the beginning of my white mustang. - -Some other particulars of our traveller's own rebellious steed may also -be extracted. He was not indeed "a Tartar of the Ukraine breed"--but he -was as wild, mischievous and wicked an animal as ever pranked. - -It was our intention to proceed to Bingham's that day: for one of my -companions, who had travelled the road a short time before, had -calculated that his house would afford us a very comfortable lodging -after a good day's ride. We rose therefore to proceed on our journey. -But I had a chapter or two more to read on the character of mustangs -before I was destined to leave the place. I had never been informed of -one particular propensity which they have, that is, to draw back and -pull violently when approached in front, and therefore walked up to my -white horse rather hastily to untie and mount him. He sprang back and -pulled for a moment so hard upon the sapling to which I had fastened -him, that it came up by the roots; and after a few leaps and kicks, -which freed him from my saddle bags, and broke the bridle, he made off -towards the middle of the prairie at full speed, with his head and tail -both raised, and in a state of exultation which formed quite a contrast -to my own feelings. - -My companions threw off their valises, mounted immediately, and gave -chase to the pestilent runaway, which, after a short gallop, had -halted, and with the most provoking coolness began to eat grass from -the prairie. As they approached him, however, he flew off again as fast -as his legs would carry him; and thus he led them to a great distance, -on a chase apparently hopeless. I watched them till I was tired, -coursing over the prairie here and there, now on this side, now on -that, at such a distance that they looked no bigger than cats, and anon -further diminished to mere mice. My white mustang led them up and down, -round and crosswise, as if he delighted in worrying them, occasionally -stopping, as coolly as before, to crop the grass, and then off in a new -direction, like a wild creature as he was. This chase lasted without -intermission for four hours, at the end of which they succeeded in -driving the little white animal towards the house. Mr. Bailey, seeing -him approaching, despatched a messenger to a neighboring farm for -assistance; and a man soon came hurrying down on horseback, provided -with a lazo: a rope with a noose at the end as before described. He -joined in the pursuit with the spirit and skill of one practised in -such employment, and soon got within about eight or ten feet of my -horse, when, with a dexterous fling, he suddenly threw the noose over -his head. Having the beast now completely in his power, he was prepared -to choke him into submission; and the noose was on the point of closing -its grasp round his neck. But here the intelligence and experience of -the mustang stepped in with customary promptitude: for as soon as he -felt the rope round his neck, he stopped stone still, and yielded as -submissively as a lamb. Like an accomplished rogue at last fairly in -the gripe of justice, he seemed in haste to submit, plead guilty and -repent, in order to secure as much leniency as possible; and in a few -moments I was again on the back of this little flying brute, jogging on -as quietly as if he had never rebelled in his life. There was a great -deal of farce in all this: but we had been put to too much -inconvenience by the perverse trick to enjoy the joke: for our loss of -time, we foresaw, would put it out of our power to perform all our -intended day's journey. - -It was nearly dark when we reached Hall's: a habitation of which I had -heard, but at which we had not originally intended to stop, as it was -only thirteen miles from Bailey's. I here found that horses in Texas -are always turned out loose to feed, even if a traveller stops but for -the night, which would have ensured another chase, with perhaps even -more unfavorable results than that I had witnessed, but for an -expedient which was recommended to us. This was to "hobble them" after -the fashion of the country: which consists in tying together their fore -legs with a short cord, and not one fore and one hind leg together, as -we do at the north. This operation instantly changes the movements of a -horse, as he is obliged to make every step a fair leap: and it excited -the greatest merriment in me, when I saw the horses of my companions -practising a gait so different from common, under a mode of constraint -which I had never witnessed before. Fully satisfied that such -confinement would be sufficient even for my white mustang, I began to -tie his legs together, which to my surprise he submitted to with the -utmost cheerfulness, without raising his head, for he had already began -to graze on the fine grass. Although so recently accustomed to run at -large in the Brazos forests, he had evidently been familiar with the -hobble: for as if he perfectly concurred in my opinion as to the -propriety of his being bound, whenever he wanted to move he carefully -raised both fore feet together, so as not to interfere with my task, -and made a gentle spring to a knot of fresh feed. Surely, thought I, I -have got a steed sagacious enough to figure in one of Æsop's Fables. - -Our traveller had not proceeded far on his journey, before his -vexatious mustang refused to eat, and gave signs of great weariness and -exhaustion. Unable however to supply himself with another, he resolved -after an interval of rest to pursue his way. - -We took our departure accordingly; and I had much difficulty in getting -my horse out of the town. In a short time, however, he began to cheer -up, and gradually quickened his pace until his strength and spirits -were quite restored, and he travelled remarkably well. However strange -it may seem, there was every appearance that the whole affair had been -a mere trick of the wily brute; and my opinion was confirmed by several -inhabitants to whom I afterwards recounted the story. They told me that -the sagacity and duplicity of the mustang is well known among them, and -that he is capable of almost any thing, which ingenuity or malice can -invent. So ungrateful a return for all my kindness and care, under such -vexatious circumstances, and aggravated by such persevering imposture, -added to my previous dislike of the animal which had been guilty of it. - -One would be almost tempted to think that these provoking yet sagacious -quadrupeds were regular descendants from the race celebrated by Swift, -and which that eccentric satirist endowed with superior intelligence to -men. - -From our author's account, Texas would undoubtedly furnish its full -quota of contributions to a cabinet of natural history. The feathered -tribes luxuriate there, especially on the coast, in great abundance and -variety. The wild fowl congregate in prodigious flocks, and the -ornithologist might find almost every order, genera and species in -creation. The tenants of the forest are not less numerous,--there being -an ample supply of wolves, bears, panthers, wild cats, wild hogs, -foxes, rackoons and squirrels. The waters too, furnish their finny, -testaceous and crustaceous treasures,--the red fish, buffalo, cat, -drum, pearch, oysters, crabs, &c. Nor is there any want of those -amphibious annoyances, crocodiles and alligators--and to crown the -whole, there is an anomalous species called the -alligator-garr,--consisting not of the fanciful compound of half horse -and half alligator--but of the actual and bona fide admixture of one -moiety of fish, and the other of alligator. We must not forget either -in enumerating the zoological curiosities of that region, one which we -do not recollect to have seen described by naturalists. We give the -words of the author. - -One of the prettiest little animals I ever saw, is the "horned frog;" -which, notwithstanding its name, is far from being amphibious, as it is -found on the prairies at a distance from water. Indeed it bears little -or no resemblance to a frog, appearing more like a lizard, with rather -a long and graceful form, a tail, and legs of nearly equal length, so -that it runs swiftly and never leaps. I had often occasion to notice -them, both here and on other prairies. They run with such agility, that -although they do not take alarm until you have approached very near -them, they dart off, and generally disappear immediately. One might -often mistake them for quails, while in motion. They are of a yellowish -color, mottled, and have horns about half an inch long, projecting from -the front of the head. Several were caught and kept for some time in a -barrel at Anahuac, and though it could not be perceived that they ate -any of the various kinds of food which were offered them, they lived -and continued active for a considerable time. - -That formidable reptile the rattlesnake, is also found in the grassy -prairies of Texas. Our traveller killed one of the "largest and -noblest" of that venemous family--it being five or six feet long and -about six inches in circumference. It was provided however with only -eight rattles, whereas others which had been killed a few days -previously of hardly half the size, were furnished with as many as -thirteen;--from which the author takes occasion to contest the common -opinion that the number of rattles is an indication of the reptile's -age. We have heard the same fact asserted, and the same conclusion -drawn from it by others, whose opportunities for careful and actual -observation were undoubted. - -Notwithstanding the many and formidable objections to a permanent -residence in Texas,--there are beauties in its scenery, which, despite -of its unvarying monotony--must fill the beholder with delight. We give -a description of one of the few fine estates in regular cultivation. - -We were received with great hospitality by Mr. McNeil and his family, -in which we found every disposition to welcome us. They set before us -the best products of the soil, which is indeed a land flowing with milk -and honey, in a more unqualified sense of the expression than any I had -ever seen. Our exercise had sharpened our appetites; and we were soon -cheered with the sight of an excellent and plentiful meal: for our -hosts, without making a single allusion to the subject, had immediately -given directions, on our first arrival, that our wants should be -provided for, and we soon sat down to a well timed repast. It consisted -chiefly of venison and a fine turkey, and was accompanied with -excellent coffee. The daughter of our host was a very intelligent and -well educated young lady, and had recently returned from the Northern -States, where she had just completed her education. - -After eating, we took a view of the charming scene around us. The house -in which we were, constructed of logs, and on the plan common to the -country dwellings of farmers in Texas, is well sheltered from the sun -and the winds by the wood, in the verge of which it is situated: and -when the beautiful China trees around it shall have attained a greater -size, the spot will be rendered still more agreeable. The mansion -fronts upon the estate: a fine, open prairie, over which the eye ranges -with pleasure, no wild or barren spot occurring to interrupt the -universal aspect of fertility and beauty, and no swelling of the -surface being perceptible, which might in any degree interfere with the -clearest view of every part. The only interruption is caused by -clusters of trees of different forms and sizes, scattered at distant -intervals here and there. These clumps and groves, apparently -possessing all the neatness and beauty which could have been given them -if planted by the hand of man, and tended by his greatest care, added -the charm of variety to the eye, while they promised thick and -convenient shelter from sun and storm to man or beast. Without such -variety and such a refuge, the aspect of the prairie, with all its -verdure, would have been monotonous to the sight, and disheartening to -the traveller. It would be almost impossible for a person who has never -seen them, to imagine the appearances of these groves. Although they -are wholly the work of nature, they often present all the beauty of -art: for the trees are of nearly equal size, and grow near together, -without underwood, and present outlines perfectly well defined, and -often surprisingly regular. Some appear to form exact circles or ovals, -while others are nearly square or oblong. It is no uncommon thing to -see a continued line, running perfectly straight, for a mile or more in -length, with scarcely a single tree projecting beyond it: so that I -found it difficult to divest myself of the impression, that much of the -land had been lately cleared, and that these were but the remains of -the forest. - -Those groves are called islands, from the striking resemblance they -present to small tracts of land surrounded by water. Nothing can be -more natural than the comparison. The prairie assumes the uniform -appearance of a lake, both in surface and color; and in the remoter -parts the hue melts into that of distant water; and it requires no very -great effort of the imagination, especially in certain states of the -weather and changes of the light, to fancy that such is the nature of -the scene. - -The landscape was bounded on the right by a long and distant line of -woodland, which concealed and yet betrayed the course of the river San -Bernard, and about three miles off, and on the left by a similar limit, -which formed the "bottoms" of the Brazos. Between these the prairie -extended its broad, unbroken level before us about ten miles, beyond -which we saw the Gulf of Mexico, reaching off to the horizon. - -I stood long contemplating this charming picture, which, as I before -remarked, is entirely overlooked from the door of our hospitable -friend; and what greatly added to its interest, was a vast number of -cattle feeding in all parts of his wide domain. How different a sight -was here presented, from any of the rural scenes with which my eyes had -ever before been familiar! How different was all the system of the -farmer from that prevailing in those regions of my own country which I -had lately visited! I was one moment struck with surprise at the vast -extent of land under the care of a single proprietor, and the few human -hands required to perform the necessary labor; and the next I was -filled with admiration at the various advantages afforded by a mild and -benignant climate, a soil of extreme fertility, and a surface best -appropriate to its use, when subjected to a system of culture to which -it is best adapted. The cotton field and garden, with their two hundred -acres, lay on the one hand, effectually secured against all -encroachment with the most substantial fence I had ever seen, which -stretched off a mile on one line; and around and beyond it lay the -almost boundless prairie, variegated with its numerous islands, spotted -with a scattered herd of six hundred cattle, all belonging to our host. -The breed is larger than those common in the north, with longer and -straiter limbs, broader horns and smoother coats. They all appeared -well fed, active and vigorous, and spend their lives through winter and -summer in the open air. The only attention bestowed upon them, is -merely to mark them when young in such a manner that if they stray they -may be distinguished from the cattle of any other proprietor. Of course -no housing is necessary in such a climate, and no provision of food for -them is to be made, in a country where there is perpetual green. They -feed during the winter in the bottoms, and as yet do not require salt, -for some reason unaccountable to me. One might expect that cattle left -thus to herd together in such immense droves, without the care or -control of man during their lives, would contract habits of timidity or -of fierceness; but I was assured that they are in one respect more -manageable than the tame cattle I have seen: for a horseman can always -readily separate such as he chooses from a herd, by riding after them -one at a time, though this is a task of great difficulty with our -northern cattle, even where they have roads and fences to restrain -them. - -We shall conclude by extracting another portion of the work, which in -the simple and unpretending language of the author, presents a picture -of such striking beauty, that the eye of a poet might almost mistake it -for Elysium. - -I had never been at all prepared for the indescribable beauty of a -Texas prairie at this season of the year, which I now could not avoid -admiring, even under such unpleasant circumstances. The wild flowers -had greatly multiplied, so that they were often spread around us in the -utmost profusion, and in wonderful variety. Some of those which are -most cultivated in oar northern gardens were here in full bloom and -perfection, intermingled with many which I had never before seen, of -different forms and colors. I should despair of giving my reader any -adequate idea of the scenes which were thus so richly adorned, and -through which we often passed for acres in extent, breaking for -ourselves the only path perceptible on the whole prairie. Among the -flowers were the largest and most delicate I had ever seen, with others -the most gaudy. Among them were conspicuous different species about six -inches in diameter, presenting concentric zones of the brightest -yellow, red and blue, in striking contrasts. In more than one instance -these fields of flowers were not only so gay and luxuriant as to seem -like a vast garden richly stocked with the finest plants and abandoned -to a congenial soil, but extensive almost beyond limitation: for it was -sometimes difficult to discover whether they stopped short of the -horizon. It was singular also that patches were here and there -overspread by mimosas, which, as our horses passed through them, drew -up their leaves and dropped their branches whenever they were brushed -by their feet, thus making a withered trace on the surface, which was -but gradually obliterated as these timid plants regained their courage, -raised their stems again and expanded their withered leaves. The plants -whose sensitiveness had thus been overcome, were rendered -distinguishable to the eye from others, by the exposure they made of -the lower side of their leaves when they folded them up: that side -being of a much lighter hue than the upper. There was a phenomenon -connected with this striking appearance, which I was at the time unable -to account for, and could hardly credit. That was, the shrinking of the -delicate plants a little in advance of us, before we had quite reached -them. A friend who had witnessed the same thing, accounted for it by -supposing that they received a shock through the long horizontal roots -which connect them together. - -One of the first flowers which appears to deck the prairie in the -spring, is the prairie rose, which in blossom and fragrance, resembles -some of our rich red roses, though the shrub is quite different. As for -others, I know not what a botanist might make of them: but I am certain -that many of them would be exceedingly admired in our own country, as -rich and new; and as to the scenes over which they were spread, it is -impossible to describe or to imagine their beauty and attraction. After -looking on the rich and ever varying display, I felt a high degree of -pleasure and admiration, so that I thought I could almost give my -mustang his liberty, throw myself on the ground and spend the whole -season among them. Occasionally too a light breath of wind would rise, -and blow the mingled perfumes into my face, giving an enjoyment no less -pure and refined, and most difficult to express. - - - - -VIRGINIA HISTORICAL AND PHILOSOPHICAL SOCIETY. - -We select the following from the "_The Western Monthly Magazine_," a -very neat and ably conducted periodical, published at Cincinnati. We -are gratified at the favorable notice taken of the first labors of the -_Historical and Philosophical Society_;--a society which, of all others -ever established among us, ought to stir up every Virginian who -possesses a particle of state pride. Why, in the name of every thing -that is dear to us, do we not unite our efforts to establish something -like a literary and scientific character for the Old Dominion. Is there -not something, besides politics, worth living for? We shall devote some -pages of our future numbers to the interests of this excellent -institution. - - -COLLECTIONS _of the Virginia Historical and Philosophical Society_; to -which is prefixed an Address spoken before the Society, &c. by -_Jonathan P. Cushing_, A.M., President of Hampden Sidney College. vol. -i. Richmond, T. W. White, 1833. - - -The Society from whose labors this pamphlet has been produced, was -originated in the winter of 1831; but owing to the fatal epidemic which -prevailed in that country, in common with other parts of the United -States, and other adverse causes, effected but little during the two -first years of its existence. The interesting publication now before -us, however, affords an earnest that the rich hoard of ancient lore, -treasured in the public archives, or private records, of the ancient -dominion, will not be suffered to lie concealed any longer from the -public eye. - -We hail the establishment of this Society, at the head of which we -perceive the name of the venerable Chief Justice of the United States, -as an event highly auspicious to the literature of our country. -Notwithstanding all that has been published, the older states of the -Union abound in fragments of traditionary history, of the most -interesting and valuable character, many of which will soon be lost to -posterity, unless they shall be rescued from oblivion by the efforts of -zealous and learned associations. Virginia especially, is rich in the -materials of history. From the day when the intrepid Smith first -wandered in search of adventure, along the wooded shores of the -Chesapeak, and when the gentle Pocahontas gave to the world an example -of female heroism and affection, more touching than any thing recorded -upon the pages of romance, down to the present era, her annals have -been filled with events of thrilling interest, and high importance. -Long before the revolution, her scholars and statesmen were known to -fame, and her soldiers were distinguished in the colonial wars. -Mistress of the wide expanse of the unknown west, her sons began early -to explore the wilderness, and to lay the foundation of a new empire in -this enticing region. From that state came the pioneers who subdued the -enemy, in the forests of Kentucky, and to whom America owes a large -debt of gratitude. The war for independence, was not fought by our -gallant forefathers upon the shores of the Atlantic only. While our -armies were contending there, the British had turned loose the savage -hordes of the west upon the frontiers, and the backwoodsmen were -successfully repelling the incursions of the barbarian, while -Washington was employed in fighting their regular armies. When we recal -those events, when we recollect the services of Virginia, in defending -the western settlements, and her magnanimity in yielding up to the -general government the broad lands of this Great Valley, the larger -portion of which were her own by right and by possession, it will be -seen that there is no state to whom the inhabitants of this region owe -so much, and none whose history is so nearly connected with our own. We -witness, therefore, with no small degree of gratification, an attempt -to place on record the existing reminiscences of the patriotic and -hardy deeds of the noble generation which preceded our own. And we hope -it will be successful. Abounding as Virginia does, in all the elements -of greatness, there is no reason why she should not perpetuate the fame -of her own sons. Containing within her limits so many men of genius, -education, and comparative leisure, she has at command the most ample -means of collecting and preserving every bright relic which has been -scattered along her career, by the hand of time. - -The first article in the pamphlet before us, is the address of -President Cushing, of Hampden Sidney College, in which he sets forth -the objects of the Society, and presses them earnestly upon the -attention of the members. They are such as are usually embraced in the -plans of similar institutions, including not only historical and -biographical details, but facts in relation to the natural history and -actual condition of the state. - -The next article is a "memoir of Indian wars, and other occurrences, by -the late Colonel Stuart, of Greenbrier"--a paper which sheds -considerable light upon the events which transpired upon the western -portion of Virginia, during the thirty years succeeding the year 1749. -The writer participated in the eventful scenes of that interesting -period, and was not only a soldier, but a man of strong mind, who has -recorded his recollections in a clear and easy style. The following -anecdote is quite characteristic: - -About the year 1749, a person who was a citizen of the county of -Frederick, and subject to paroxysms of lunacy, when influenced by such -fits, usually made excursions into the wilderness, and in his rambles -westwardly, fell in on the waters of Greenbrier river. At that time, -the country on the western waters was but little known to the English -inhabitants of the then colonies of America, being claimed by the -French, who had commenced settlements on the Ohio and its waters, west -of the Alleghany mountains. The lunatic being surprised to find waters -running a different course from any he had before known, returned with -the intelligence of his discovery, which did abound with game. This -soon excited the enterprise of others. Two men from New England, of the -name of Jacob Marlin and Stephen Sewell, took up a residence upon -Greenbrier river; but soon disagreeing in sentiment, a quarrel -occasioned their separation, and Sewell, for the sake of peace, quit -their cabin and made his abode in a large hollow tree. In this -situation they were found by the late General Andrew Lewis, in the year -1751. Mr. Lewis was appointed agent for a company of grantees, who -obtained from the governor and council of Virginia, an order for one -hundred thousand acres of land lying on the waters of Greenbrier -river,--and did, this year, proceed to make surveys to complete the -quantity of said granted lands; and finding Marlin and Sewell living in -the neighborhood of each other, inquired what could induce them to live -separate in a wilderness so distant from the habitations of any other -human beings. They informed him that difference of opinion had -occasioned their separation, and that they had since enjoyed more -tranquillity and a better understanding; for Sewell said, that each -morning when they arose and Marlin came out of the great house and he -from his hollow tree, they saluted each other, saying--good morning Mr. -Marlin, and good morning Mr. Sewell, so that a good understanding then -existed between them; but it did not last long, for Sewell removed -about forty miles further west, to a creek that still bears his name. -There the Indians found him and killed him. - -Colonel Stuart gives a very detailed account of the campaign of General -Lewis in 1774, which resulted in the battle at Point Pleasant. That -battle was, in fact, the beginning of the revolutionary war; for it is -well known that the Indians were induced by the British to commence -hostilities, for the purpose of confounding and terrifying the American -people. It was thought that an Indian war would prevent a combination -of the colonies for opposing the measures of parliament, and would turn -their thoughts from resistance to the government, by engaging them in -the defence of their homes. The Shawanese, a fierce, warlike, and -numerous tribe, were employed on this occasion, and they were a tribe -not to be despised--for by them, with their allies, have the most -conspicuous battles in the West been fought. It was chiefly the -Shawanese that cut off the British army under Braddock in 1755, and -defeated Major Grant and his highlanders at Fort Pitt in 1758. It was -they who defeated an army composed of the flower of Kentucky at Blue -Licks--who vanquished Harmer and St. Clair, who were beaten by Wayne, -and conquered by Harrison. - -The army sent against these formidable savages by Governor Dunmore, was -composed of Virginia volunteers, led by General Andrew Lewis, a -gentleman of whose military abilities General Washington entertained so -high an opinion, that when the chief command of the revolutionary -armies were tendered to himself, he recommended that it should be given -to General Lewis. He was the companion of Washington in the fatal -campaign under Braddock, and was a captain in the detachment which -fought at Little Meadows in 1752. He commanded a company of Virginians, -attached to Major Grant's regiment of Highlanders in 1758, and on the -eve of the battle in which the latter was so signally defeated, was -ordered to the rear, with his men, in order that he might not share the -honor of the expected victory. There he stood with his brave -Virginians, impatiently listening to the reports of the musquetry, at a -distance of more than a mile from the battle ground--until the -Europeans were defeated, when, without waiting for orders, he rushed to -the scene of slaughter, and by his coolness and skill, turned the scale -of victory, drove back the savages, and saved the regulars from -massacre. "When he was advancing," says the narrative before us, "he -met a Scotch Highlander under speedy flight, and inquiring of him how -the battle was going, he said 'they were a' beaten, and he had seen -Donald McDonald up to his hunkers in mud, and a' the skeen af his -heed.' Grant made his escape from the field of battle with a party of -seven or eight soldiers, and wandered all night in the woods," but -surrendered himself to the enemy in the morning, while the Virginians -marched home in triumph. This was the same Colonel Grant who figured in -the British Parliament in 1775, when he had the impudence to say, he -knew the Americans well--he had often acted in the same service with -them, and from that knowledge would venture to predict, that they would -never dare to face an English army, being destitute of every requisite -to constitute good soldiers. - -We regret that we have not room to make further extracts from this -narrative. We shall have attained our object, however, if the remarks -we have made, shall be the means of attracting attention to this -interesting era in our history. - -The last article in this pamphlet is a very curious document, being an -exact copy of the "Record of Grace Sherwood's Trial for Witchcraft, in -1705, in Princess Ann County, Virginia." On another occasion we shall -present an account of this singular procedure to our readers. - - - - -THE LITERARY JOURNAL. - - -M. M. Robinson, Esq. editor of the Compiler, has issued the first or -specimen number of a new periodical to be published weekly in this -city, with the title of the "LITERARY JOURNAL." Its contents will -consist of _selections_ from the mass of contemporary literature, -American and foreign. We should rejoice in Mr. Robinson's success, even -if his paper was likely to conflict with the interests of the -"Messenger." In truth however, the two periodicals ought to flourish -together, and be mutually beneficial. Whilst the "Journal" will be -filled _exclusively_ with _selected_ matter, the "Messenger" will -_chiefly_, though not entirely, consist of _original_ articles. The -_former_ will improve the taste and enrich the mind of the reader, by -culling from inexhaustible sources whatever may contribute to his -gratification and amusement; whilst the _latter_ will furnish the means -of exercising the talents of _our own writers_--of imbodying our own -conceptions, and reducing to _practical use_, the knowledge which we -acquire. Whilst in order to write well, much reading is absolutely -necessary, so all the reading in the world will avail but little, -unless the free and familiar use of the pen is also obtained. We -certainly never shall become a literary people unless we learn to use -the treasures we accumulate from books; no more than the theory of -military tactics will ever make an accomplished soldier in his -closet--or the study of jurisprudence constitute a lawyer of one who -never appears at the bar. - -The first number of the "Journal" is filled with reviews of foreign -publications, and other articles, which appear to have been judiciously -selected. We take the liberty of making one suggestion however, and -that is, that the source from which each article is derived ought to be -designated. If the name of the writer cannot be given, that of the -Quarterly or Monthly from which it is extracted, ought by all means to -be furnished. It would moreover be doubtless gratifying to the reader -to understand whether he is indebted to an American or British author -for the pleasure he receives. - -Mr. Robinson will, it is hoped, be successful in his enterprise. - - - - -EXTRACT FROM LACON. - - -Nothing is so difficult as the apparent ease of a clear and flowing -style: those graces which from their presumed facility encourage all to -attempt an imitation of them, are usually the most inimitable. - - - - -EDITORIAL DEPARTMENT. - - -The two preceding numbers of the "Messenger" having been, as far as we -can learn, favorably received by its patrons, we have endeavored in -this to keep pace with expectation, by presenting a rich variety of -original matter, and a few interesting selections. Among the most -important duties of those who have any concern in the management of -such a work--it is not the least to be watchful of an enlightened -public opinion--to profit by the suggestions of others, and even to -receive with patience well-intended rebuke. It is precisely in this -latter spirit that we have noticed in the letters of one or two -correspondents, as well as in the public prints, some animadversions -upon the editorial remarks in the last number. We have been censured, -and perhaps justly, for bestowing too much praise on the contributions -of our friends. However great the error, it was at least honestly, if -not prudently committed. - -It was believed that a little commendation was not only justly due, but -might stir up generous minds to increase their efforts in behalf of an -infant and laudable enterprise. We should always prefer erring on the -side of indiscriminate praise, rather than undeserved censure. The true -path, indeed, is to avoid both extremes,--but it is much easier to -prescribe good counsel than always to follow it. We have been -admonished too by a very sensible and judicious correspondent, in whose -judgment we entertain great confidence, that we have imposed -inconvenient and impolitic restrictions upon the writers for the -"Messenger," by limiting the subject matter of their contributions. We -are told that we have circumscribed too much the field of their labors, -by objecting to such materials as are drawn from foreign character and -manners,--and we are gently reminded of an apparent inconsistency, -between our professed attachment to domestic subjects, and the -admission into our columns of copious extracts from an English novel. -We are moreover informed from the same intelligent source, that our -denunciation of all such fictions as are founded upon fairy mythology, -is not very reasonable,--inasmuch as these may imbody the conceptions -of imagination and genius--and may serve to illustrate and display -Virginia talent and literature. - -Now, with due deference to these various suggestions, which we know to -originate in perfect good will--it is proper in the first place to -remark, that we do not perceive any inconsistency between our objection -to "the trammels of foreign reading"--and the admission into our pages -of good selections from foreign publications. The "Messenger" is -designed chiefly to encourage the practice of literary composition -among our own writers of both sexes,--and of literary composition there -are great varieties,--some founded on fact and personal observation, -and some which are moulded exclusively out of the creations of fancy. A -writer who will give us facts or sketches of the character and manners, -or scenery of a foreign country, derived either from his own -observation or authentic sources, will render an acceptable -service;--but, in a pure tale of fiction, or in descriptive narrative, -founded for the most part upon the mere inventions of genius--why is it -necessary or proper to slight the familiar materials which every where -surround us, and resort to those hackneyed and frequently distorted -pictures of transatlantic manners, of which we can only form just -conceptions through the secondary medium of books? If we must have -foreign tales for our amusement and instruction, had we not better take -them from those who copy from life, and are more likely to present -faithful and finished sketches! Let foreign writers, therefore, give us -pictures of their own,--and such, as we like we will publish; but let -our own adventurers in the paths of literature, prefer rather to stand -upon ground with which they are acquainted. Let them weave their -garlands with flowers plucked from our native wilds, or our own -cultivated gardens, and not rely, as too many do rely, upon exotic -ornaments wherewith to embellish their pages. It is true that a -_strict_ observance of any such rule as this is not to be expected and -is perhaps not practicable--and we are perfectly aware, that -illustrious examples may be found in our own, as well as in other -countries, of a departure from its letter if not from its spirit. These -examples for the most part, however, will be found on examination, to -rest on peculiar circumstances. The genius of a Scott, may soar amidst -the grandeur of Alpine scenery,--or may depict the curious -superstitions and simple manners of the Shetland Islanders;--but minds -like his,--of such incomparable vigor and fertility, are neither bound -by the confines of space or time. They have a kind of exclusive -privilege to transcend ordinary rules,--and those who would plead their -example, ought at least to shew something like extraordinary merit to -entitle them to the same exemption. If we look to our own country, it -is well understood, that Mr. Cooper owes his reputation as a writer of -fiction principally to those fine romances, which are founded upon -native character and scenery--and that, if that reputation has suffered -at all, it is in consequence of his desertion of a field so wide and -magnificent, for the beaten and monotonous track of European character -and customs. Mr. Irving is undoubtedly most indebted for his literary -fame to such of his productions as are purely American; and it is -probable that in the future estimate which will be formed of his powers -and genius, his Bracebridge Hall, and the Tales of the Alhambra, will -hold no comparison in the scale of merit with his Knickerbocker, or -Salmagundi. But why amplify our illustrations? We will present no -absolute rule on the subject,--but rather choose to throw out these -opinions and suggestions to our readers and contributors, as matter for -their consideration. - -In respect to the Legends of Fairy land,--which give such illimitable -scope to the fancy--and operate so feebly, if at all, in imparting -either rational amusement or instruction,--we confess that our opinions -are more decided and our objections more insurmountable. We think that -the day has past when such kind of reading will either be relished or -endured. In this age of comparative mental sobriety,--aliment like -that, is not likely to satisfy the intellectual appetite; no more than -the spectre tales of the last century would suit the rational and -regulated taste of the present time. This opinion it is not necessary -to enforce by a train of reasoning. We think that a large majority of -our readers will concur in the sentiment. - -We are also informed from more than one quarter, that we awarded too -liberal and dangerous a compliment in our last number, to one article -especially, to wit--the "_Recollections of Chotank_;"--that we have -thereby, without intending it, given a sanction to vices which were -once fashionable, but now no longer so: that we have offended against -the laws of that chaste empress, TEMPERANCE,--who sits enthroned in so -many hearts, and who will not countenance the slightest inuendo against -her sovereignty; and that we have actually been guilty of the sin of -commending a paper, which contained enticing references to the social -excesses and abuses of ancient hospitality. To all this we reply, that -we spoke of the "_Recollections of Chotank_" as a _literary_ -composition,--and that we had no more design, in the tribute which we -paid to its merit, to recommend the vices of "gambling and drinking," -than we believe the author himself had, when he sat down to sketch his -reminiscences of by-gone days. We hope that the most fastidious will be -content with this disclaimer. - -It is impossible that the "Messenger" can always please each one of its -readers. Its contents must be necessarily varied--and it will often -happen, that an article which will dissatisfy one person, will be -particularly acceptable to another. So it is on the stage, at the -forum, and in the pulpit. Some will loath that very part of the -performance, the argument or doctrine, which will inspire others with -delight. As we cannot possibly please all, we must endeavor to satisfy -the greater number, and in so doing we may probably please ourselves. -There is one thing of which our readers and patrons may rest assured, -that we shall never knowingly countenance any thing either false in -taste, or wrong in morals;--and we hold--that purity in both, is -necessary to the dignity and value of literature. - -We have been gently reprimanded by some of our friends for not -confining ourselves exclusively to _original matter_, whilst others -have thought, that a few more good _selections_ would add to the value -of our pages. Such is the "incurable diversity of human opinion." Our -own view of the subject is so much better expressed by a distinguished -writer, than we can do it--that we shall give below in the "_Extracts -from the letters of our correspondents_," a full quotation from his -letter. - -But what shall we say of the contents of the present number?--shall we -say nothing, least peradventure we may say too much? Must we be -altogether silent, in order that our patrons may judge for themselves, -unbiassed by our own humble opinion? We cannot in conscience be so -uncivil as not to return the kindness of our friends, with the simple -expression of our thanks; and if perchance we should so far suffer our -good feelings to master our judgment, as to bestow praise where none is -due, we feel confident that the superior discernment, and more -enlightened taste of our readers, will correct the error. - -Let us therefore take a rapid survey of the feast which we have spread. -Perhaps our bill of fare may tempt curiosity and whet the appetite. - -The article entitled "_Sketches of the History and Present Condition of -Tripoli_," will be read and admired, not only for the style, but the -really valuable and interesting information it contains. The source -from which it comes may be fully relied on. - -The domestic grievances of "_Belinda_" are we hope not without remedy. -Time and strict regimen may perhaps restore her dyspeptic consort to a -more equable frame. His humors have at least had the effect of -supplying us with a good article. - -The "_Reporter's Story, or the Importance of a Syllable_," is by a -practised writer,--whose pen is humorous, caustic and brilliant, as -occasion requires. We should be glad to secure his constant assistance. - -The "_Cottage in the Glen_," is by a lady not unknown as a writer. -There are few who will not admire the simplicity and beauty of her -narrative; and to such as are of a serious or religious cast of mind it -will be particularly interesting. We hope that the authoress will often -favor us with the productions of her pen. - -The "_Alleghany Levels_," is by a gentleman of scientific acquirements -and classical taste. It is with peculiar pleasure that we insert in the -"Messenger" such articles as his and "_The Cyclopean Towers in Augusta -County, Virginia_." They develope some of those rare curiosities and -remarkable features in the scenery of our state, which have hitherto -been undescribed. The latter article is by one who possesses a -cultivated taste for the beautiful in art and nature. - -The story of "_My Classmates_," will be read when it is known to -proceed from the author of "An Extract from a Novel," which was -inserted in the last number of the Messenger. The space which the story -occupies will be its greatest recommendation; it is one of thrilling -interest, and told in powerful language. - -We know not how all our readers will relish "_Cupid's Sport_," but -there are some passages in it which Yorick himself would not have been -ashamed to write, even with "the high claims and terrifying exactions" -of the widow Wadman's eyes to inspire him. - -"_Pinkney's Eloquence_," it will be seen is from the pen of "Nugator." -His pieces need no commendation from us; we are charmed with every -thing about them except the signature. - -The "_Leaf from the Journal of a Young American Tourist_," we noticed -in our last number. It is a graphic sketch, from the port-folio of an -accomplished young traveller. - -The "_Dandy Chastised_," will be relished by all who desire to see that -anomolous species lampooned out of countenance. - -The _selections_ in the present number are accompanied by prefatory -remarks. "_The Letters from New England_," the first of which is -inserted, though originally published in the Fredericksburg Arena, have -been revised and corrected by their author expressly for the -"Messenger." They deserve a more enduring record than the columns of a -newspaper. - -The suggestion has been made to us by one entitled to respect, that in -the present condition of the public taste, too much space has been -allotted in our columns to the productions of the Muse. We humbly hope -that our friend is mistaken in this opinion. Nothing would grieve us -more than the conviction that, among southern readers generally, there -was not felt a lively concern and growing interest in the successful -cultivation of that charming branch of literature; and indeed if this -were the proper place, we think we could easily demonstrate that poetry -exercises a most potent, diffusive and abiding influence upon the -interests and happiness of society. Our present number will be found to -contain some precious gems, which fully establish the claims of -southern genius to high capabilities in the tuneful art. We forbear -however to discriminate, confident that the taste of our readers will -readily discern all that feeble language could express. - - - - -EXTRACTS FROM THE LETTERS OF CORRESPONDENTS. - - -FROM PENNSYLVANIA. - -_Philadelphia, Nov. 4, 1834_. - -"I thank you truly for your obliging attention in sending to me the two -numbers of your 'SOUTHERN LITERARY MESSENGER,' which I have read with -much satisfaction. I look with a deep interest and pleasure upon every -effort to raise up the literary character of our country; to lay the -foundations of a pure and sound taste, and to stimulate our native -genius to develop and strengthen its powers. In the encouragement of -these attempts, we should all act and feel as the citizens of the -American republic, disregarding sectional divisions, and undisturbed by -questions of state rights and constitutional scruples and -constructions. Here we should be a consolidated people, and whether the -candidate for fame be a native of the north or south, the east or west, -we should claim him as our own, belonging to all alike. When I hear of -the establishment of a seminary of learning; of a scientific or -literary publication; of an invention in the arts; in short, of any -thing which sheds abroad the light of American genius and power, its -particular location is, with me, quite a secondary consideration, -scarcely, indeed, considered at all. It is enough for me that I can say -to the supercilious European, _this is American_. - -"With these sentiments, you may be assured that I wish success to your -endeavor to rouse the spirit of the South in the cause of literature; -to draw its intellectual energies from the everlasting and monotonous -discussion of politics, which has run the same round of topics and -arguments for forty years, and to allure her favored sons and daughters -to the kinder and brighter fields of science and letters. If you shall -be able to continue as you have begun, your subscribers will be amply -remunerated for their patronage, and your contributors may be proud to -see their lucubrations on your pages. It is well that you do not -confine yourself to original compositions, but mix them with judicious -and interesting selections from works of established reputation. -Repeated experience has shewn that an editor cannot depend much upon -the voluntary contributions of our own writers, however friendly to his -design, who are too much occupied with their own concerns and the -serious business of life, to be relied on as the support of such an -enterprise as yours.... We have not yet a class or body of _authors by -profession_; writing is the occupation of hours snatched from business, -or the amusement of the few who have leisure for indulgence." - - -FROM THE VALLEY OF VIRGINIA. - -"I look with much anxiety to your _Launch_, (which I wish had been the -title of your work)--the first of any promise in Virginia, heartily -desiring it God-speed--yet fearing that you may meet with some -inaptitude or distaste to mere literary contribution from the educated -of our citizens. This, however, cannot last long; you may feel it at -the outset, but it will soon end; for I doubt not that the Messenger, -as one of its best effects, will draw into literary exercise the -talents which now lie fallow throughout the community, or which have -long extravasated in politics and professions. The mind of Virginia is -unquestionably a quarry from which much that is precious may be -extracted; and you may and I hope will be able to expose its strata to -the light, as the huntsman of the Andes exposed to the eye of the -world, at the foot of the yielding shrub which he had seized upon for -support, how rich and vast was the treasure which an unexamined surface -had concealed." - - -FROM SOUTHERN VIRGINIA. - -"Be assured no effort on my part will be wanting to extend the -circulation of the Messenger, and nothing would give me more unfeigned -pleasure than being instrumental in the promotion of so laudable an -enterprise. Your periodical is truly a pioneer in the cause of southern -literature; and reasoning from the general character of the southern -people, no other conclusion can be legitimately drawn, than a highly -enlarged, extensive and honorable patronage. That this may be the case, -permit me to add an ardent hope to my unqualified belief. We have been -too long tributary to the north; it is time, high time, to awake from -our lethargy--to rise in the majesty of our intellectual strength, put -on the panoply of talents and genius, and _strike_ for the 'prize of -our high calling' in literature. If the object of your labors be -attained, of which there can be no reasonable doubt, posterity will be -more grateful to you than to thousands of the _political exquisites_ of -the day, whose memory will last just so long as their ephemeral -productions." - - -FROM EASTERN VIRGINIA. - -"I shall endeavor to avail myself of the offer of your columns, and if, -as you propose, your periodical shall be issued monthly, I may probably -contribute my full quota to every number. In doing so, I shall try to -remember that I am writing for a _literary_ work, and one which leans -much on the support of light readers. I shall therefore endeavor to -treat grave topics with as little gravity as the nature of the case may -admit of; drawing my reasons less from authority than from common sense -and the nature of things, and addressing them to the untaught feelings -of the heart, rather than to what is falsely contradistinguished as -reason and judgment. I say _falsely_, because when the mind is once -broken in by the discipline of a spurious philosophy, it is too apt to -throw out its view all considerations incapable of being established by -any regular chain of reasoning. Yet these are often entitled to be -regarded as first principles; and their proof is found in nature, and -in the universal acquiescence of mankind, the more conclusive, because -it does not rest on reason, but on a sort of moral instinct. If men -wrote less for fame and more for effect, I am persuaded they would find -it rarely necessary to conduct the reader through a long process of -ratiocination, and that the important end (conviction) would be often -best accomplished by those striking exhibitions of truth which make it -manifest at a glance. Such is the case with most of those great truths -on which the rights, and duties, and happiness of men depend. On such -subjects truth vindicates her title to respect by her very presence. -'She walks a queen,' and the heart gives its homage, and compels the -acquiescence of the understanding, without stopping to look into her -patent of royalty. Does any man doubt such truths? No. Can they be -proved? No; and _therefore_ they are the more certainly true. The fact -that they are universally accepted, is a _fact_ to reason from; and it -is the philosophy that teaches to overlook such facts that I call -false. - -"How often, when a man takes up his pen to elaborate a long course of -reasoning, does he find himself attempting to lead his reader along a -track that his own mind did not travel. Can he wonder that his reader -will not consent to be so led? Does he think that he alone has the -privilege of travelling the high road of common sense, which levels -mountains and lifts up vallies, and that others will permit themselves -to be led a roundabout way, picking their steps with painful accuracy -along the dividing ridge between 'right hand extremes and left hand -defections?' And why does he attempt this? Merely to show that he is -too profound, and too philosophical to take any thing for granted." - - -"Accept my thanks for the Southern Literary Messenger. Its contents I -have perused with pleasure. Its execution is not to be surpassed in -accuracy and neatness. Can a discerning public withhold encouragement, -especially when the benefits will be mutual? Indeed I consider the -advantages more likely to be on the side of the public provided a -liberal spirit prevail, and the well stored minds of the South -contribute to establish, through the Messenger, that high literary -reputation which is within their power to erect. The pride of the Old -Dominion should respond to your appeal by a generous contribution of -subscriptions and mental effusions. Please consider me a subscriber." - - -"The reception of your Literary Messenger gave me much pleasure, and I -thank you for your polite attention in sending it. The cause you have -in hand is one very dear to my heart, and I sincerely wish you success; -I must not omit, however, to testify my zeal in a more substantial way, -and accordingly send you five dollars, and desire to be considered a -subscriber, and promise to use every exertion to procure you others." - - -FROM MIDDLE VIRGINIA. - -"... Taking now as many papers as I can well pay for, I am induced to -support the Messenger nevertheless, from the great anxiety which I feel -for the progress of literature in the South, and to show to the country -that the soil of the Old Dominion, so fertile in the production of -patriots and statesmen, can also support and rear to age the bright -scions which adorn smoother and more ornamented fields. I feel that -this is a solemn duty, which the youth of Virginia owe to the memory of -their fathers,--the mantles of whose patriotism have descended upon -them unsoiled; to men who were cast upon so rough a sea as to have -little time to think of any thing else save the dangers around them: -their whole lives having been spent in bringing the noble vessel, -freighted with every thing dear to American bosoms, into a safe harbor, -where she has ever since continued to ride triumphantly in prosperity -and glory, it can be nothing more than sheer justice in us to raise -this 'tardy bust' to buried merit. As almost the pioneer in this noble -undertaking, I bid you God speed, and I trust that the success of your -paper may not only blot out the only spot on the escutcheon of -Virginia, but in every way equal your most sanguine expectations." - - -FROM A SOUTH CAROLINIAN. - -"The objects you have undertaken to accomplish, and which, judging from -your prospectus and the character the public have given of your paper -and yourself, will most certainly be attained, are highly meritorious -and praiseworthy. Such a periodical has been long desired at the south, -whose literary reputation is far inferior to that of the north--to -awaken the dormant faculties--to arouse the ambition, and direct and -concentrate the energies of a people, whose abilities are _at least -equal_ to those of any class of men on earth. Incitement is all that is -wished, and your paper, southern in its principles, and established in -a southern city, will produce it, if any thing can. Capacity it is well -known is not deficient. Only bring it fairly into play, and your -columns will, and a hundred such would be filled with the most valuable -matter--with the most finished efforts in every branch of literature." - - -FROM THE DISTRICT OF COLUMBIA. - -"I have yours, with the several copies of the Literary Messenger, which -I will dispose of to the best advantage, and shall be happy if I can be -instrumental in circulating extensively in the West, a periodical that -promises so much, and in its first number presents evidences so -flattering, of the genius and refined taste of Virginians. I hope you -will find ample encouragement to persevere in your work. The pride of -Virginia,--_the mother of states_,--will surely not allow a work such -as yours to fail for the want of patronage." - - - - -ACKNOWLEDGMENTS TO CONTRIBUTORS, &C. - - -We regret that various articles of merit both in prose and verse are -necessarily excluded from the present number. Among the former, "_Hints -to Students in Geology_"--"_Eloquence_"--"_The March of Mind_"--and the -"_Description of a Fourth of July Celebration_," shall certainly appear -in December. Among the latter, "_Lines to D----_," by a lady--"_Beauty -and Time_"--"_Autumn Woods_"--"_Powhatan_;" and "_Lines Suggested on -Viewing the Ruins of Jamestown_," shall be published. - -So also shall appear "_The Invocation to Religion_," and other pieces -by our esteemed correspondent "L." - -We hope that our talented friends of Mobile and Tuscaloosa will be -patient. We could only delight our readers with a part of their -contributions in the present number. We greet the literary spirit of -our young sister of the southwest. - -We regret being obliged to decline the publication in the present -number of the lines on "_The Creation of the Antelope_," being unable -to decipher some of the words in the copy sent. Can we be favored by -our correspondent "C" with another copy? - -We have placed _Mr. French's Grammar_ in the hands of a skilful -philologist for examination. - -We have been favored with a sight of the _Poetical Manuscripts_ of the -late excellent and lamented _Mrs. Jean Wood_, and we shall take the -earliest opportunity to present some selections from them to the notice -of our readers. - -The essay on "_Luxury_" was received too late for the present number. - -We are unable to decipher the manuscript of "_Alive_." - - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Southern Literary Messenger, Vol. -I., No. 3, November, 1834, by Various - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SOUTHERN LITERARY MESSENGER, NOV 1834 *** - -***** This file should be named 53501-8.txt or 53501-8.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/3/5/0/53501/ - -Produced by Ron Swanson -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search -facility: www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. - diff --git a/old/53501-8.zip b/old/53501-8.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 2b176d3..0000000 --- a/old/53501-8.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/53501-h.zip b/old/53501-h.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 91637fb..0000000 --- a/old/53501-h.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/53501-h/53501-h.htm b/old/53501-h/53501-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index 31b0662..0000000 --- a/old/53501-h/53501-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,8449 +0,0 @@ - -<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> - -<html> -<head> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=ISO-8859-1"> - <title>The Project Gutenberg e-Book of The Southern Literary Messenger, Vol. I., No. 3, November 1834, by Various</title> - <style type="text/css"> - <!-- - body {margin:10%; text-align:justify} - h1 {text-align:center} - h2 {text-align:center} - h3 {text-align:center} - h4 {text-align:center} - h5 {text-align:center} --> - </style> -</head> -<body> - - -<pre> - -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Southern Literary Messenger, Vol. I., -No. 3, November, 1834, by Various - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: The Southern Literary Messenger, Vol. I., No. 3, November, 1834 - -Author: Various - -Editor: James E. Heath - -Release Date: November 11, 2016 [EBook #53501] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SOUTHERN LITERARY MESSENGER, NOV 1834 *** - - - - -Produced by Ron Swanson - - - - - -</pre> - -<center>THE</center> -<h1>SOUTHERN LITERARY MESSENGER:</h1> -<center>DEVOTED TO</center> -<h2>EVERY DEPARTMENT OF LITERATURE</h2> -<center>AND</center> -<h3>THE FINE ARTS.</h3> -<br> -<br> -<table align="center" border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" summary="poem1"> - <tr><td><small>Au gré de nos desirs bien plus qu'au gré des vents. </small></td></tr> - <tr><td align="right"><small><i>Crebillon's Electre</i>.</small></td></tr> - <tr><td><small> </small></td></tr> - <tr><td><small>As <i>we</i> will, and not as the winds will.</small></td></tr> -</table><br> -<br> -<center><small>RICHMOND:<br> -T. W. WHITE, PUBLISHER AND PROPRIETOR.<br> -1834-5.</small></center> -<br><br><br><br> -<h3>CONTENTS OF VOLUME I, NUMBER 3</h3> - -<p><a href="#sect01">P<small>UBLISHER'S</small> N<small>OTICE</small></a></p> - -<p><a href="#sect02">S<small>KETCHES OF THE</small> H<small>ISTORY</small> and -Present Condition of Tripoli, with some accounts of the other -Barbary States (No. I)</a>: by R. G.</p> - -<p><a href="#sect03">T<small>HE</small> D<small>YSPEPTIC</small> M<small>AN</small></a>: by Belinda</p> - -<p><a href="#sect04">T<small>HE</small> R<small>EPORTER'S</small> S<small>TORY</small>, -or the Importance of a Single Syllable</a>: by S.</p> - -<p><a href="#sect05">T<small>HE</small> C<small>OTTAGE IN THE</small> G<small>LEN</small></a>: by S. H.</p> - -<p><a href="#sect06">P<small>ICTURE OF</small> O<small>LD</small> V<small>IRGINIA</small></a>: by Nugator</p> - -<p><a href="#sect07">A L<small>EAF FROM THE</small> J<small>OURNAL OF A</small> -Y<small>OUNG</small> A<small>MERICAN</small> T<small>OURIST IN</small> I<small>TALY</small></a>: by W.</p> - -<p><a href="#sect08">L<small>ETTERS FROM</small> N<small>EW</small> E<small>NGLAND</small> (No. 1)</a>: by a Virginian</p> - -<p><a href="#sect09">N. P. W<small>ILLIS</small></a>: by Mr. Hugh Blair Grigsby</p> - -<p><a href="#sect10">W<small>ASHINGTON AND</small> N<small>APOLEON</small>. -T<small>HE</small> C<small>ONTRAST</small></a></p> - -<p><a href="#sect11">M<small>INERAL</small> W<small>EALTH OF</small> -V<small>IRGINIA</small></a>: by Peter A. Browne, Esq.</p> - -<p><a href="#sect12">L<small>AFAYETTE</small></a>: by Alexandre de Boinville</p> - -<p><a href="#sect13">P<small>INKNEY'S</small> E<small>LOQUENCE</small></a>: by Nugator</p> - -<p><a href="#sect14">T<small>HE</small> D<small>ANDY</small> C<small>HASTISED</small></a></p> - -<p><a href="#sect15">P<small>LACED WITH A</small> R<small>OSE UPON A</small> -L<small>ADY'S</small> C<small>HEEK</small></a>: by Questus</p> - -<p><a href="#sect16">T<small>HE</small> A<small>LLEGHANY</small> L<small>EVELS</small></a>: by C. B. S.</p> - -<p><a href="#sect17">T<small>HE</small> C<small>YCLOPEAN</small> T<small>OWERS, IN</small> -A<small>UGUSTA</small> C<small>OUNTY</small>, V<small>A</small>.</a>: by G. C.</p> - -<p><a href="#sect18">O<small>RIGINAL</small> S<small>ONNET TO</small> L<small>ORD</small> -B<small>YRON</small></a>: ascribed to the Hon. R. H. Wilde</p> - -<p><a href="#sect19">M<small>USINGS</small> III</a>: by the author of Vyvyan</p> - -<p><a href="#sect20">T<small>HE</small> F<small>ATED</small> C<small>ITY</small></a>: by A. B. M.</p> - -<p><a href="#sect21">H<small>YMN TO THE</small> S<small>TARS</small></a>: by D. Martin</p> - -<p><a href="#sect22">T<small>O</small> * * * * *</a>: by L.</p> - -<p><a href="#sect23">T<small>HE</small> G<small>RAVE</small> S<small>EEKERS</small></a>: by R. S. F.</p> - -<p><a href="#sect24">T<small>O A</small> Y<small>OUNG</small> C<small>HILD</small></a>: by D. Martin</p> - -<p><a href="#sect25">C<small>UPID'S</small> S<small>PORT</small></a></p> - -<p><a href="#sect26">M<small>Y</small> C<small>LASSMATES</small></a>: by the author of the "Extract -from a Novel that will never be published"</p> - -<p><a href="#sect27">S<small>TANZAS</small></a></p> - -<p><a href="#sect28">S<small>ONNET</small></a></p> - -<p>O<small>RIGINAL</small> L<small>ITERARY</small> N<small>OTICES</small><br> - <a href="#sect29">P<small>OEMS BY A</small> C<small>OLLEGIAN</small></a><br> - <a href="#sect30">M<small>Y</small> N<small>ATIVE</small> -L<small>AND</small>, <small>AND</small> O<small>THER</small> P<small>OEMS</small></a>: by Frederick Speece<br> - <a href="#sect31">A V<small>ISIT TO</small> T<small>EXAS</small></a><br> - <a href="#sect32">C<small>OLLECTIONS</small> <i>of the Virginia Historical and Philosophical Society</i></a><br> -</p> - -<p><a href="#sect33">T<small>HE</small> L<small>ITERARY</small> J<small>OURNAL</small></a></p> - -<p><a href="#sect34">E<small>DITORIAL</small> D<small>EPARTMENT</small></a></p> - -<p><a href="#sect35">E<small>XTRACTS FROM THE</small> L<small>ETTERS OF</small> C<small>ORRESPONDENTS</small></a></p> - -<p><a href="#sect36">A<small>CKNOWLEDGMENTS TO</small> C<small>ONTRIBUTORS</small></a></p> - -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<hr> -<h3>SOUTHERN LITERARY MESSENGER.</h3> -<hr> -<center>V<small>OL</small>. I.] RICHMOND, NOVEMBER, -1834. [N<small>O</small>. 3.</center> -<hr> -<center><small>T. W. WHITE, PRINTER AND PROPRIETOR. FIVE -DOLLARS PER ANNUM.</small></center> -<a name="sect01"></a> -<hr><br> -<p> </p> -<table align="left" border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" summary="Illustration1"> - <tr> - <td width="38"> - <img src="images/pointer.jpg" alt="pointer"> - </td> - </tr> -</table> -<p>The <i>Publisher and Proprietor</i>, has made such arrangements for the -management of the <i>Editorial Department</i>, as he hopes will be -satisfactory to his patrons. If the circulation of the "Messenger" -continues to increase, he has it in contemplation not only to secure -regular able contributions, but also to embellish some of his monthly -numbers with handsome lithographic drawings and engravings; but the -cost cannot be prudently incurred without an enlargement of his list. -He therefore hopes that such of his friends as feel an interest in the -successful prosecution of this first serious attempt to establish a -literary periodical south of the Potomac, will aid him in extending -its circulation—as the best means of ensuring its continuance and -utility. <i>If each of his subscribers would only procure an additional -one</i>, the work would not only be <i>firmly established</i> but greatly -<i>increased in value</i>. The Publisher avails himself of this opportunity -to inform the correspondent of the Portland Advertiser that the latter -is mistaken in respect to the place of his nativity. The Publisher did -once reside in the city of Boston, and can freely bear testimony to -the high character, the generous feelings and the noble -accomplishments of its citizens—but he was only a sojourner among -them; having been born, and for the most part reared in the Ancient -Dominion. If he were not a full blooded Tuckahoe Virginian, he would -like to be a Bostonian.</p> - -<p>All communications of every kind must be addressed to T. W. White, -<i>Publisher and Proprietor</i>.</p> -<table align="left" border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" summary="Illustration2"> - <tr> - <td width="38"> - <img src="images/pointer.jpg" alt="pointer"> - </td> - </tr> -</table> - -<p>The issuing of the present number has been delayed in consequence of -the change to a <i>monthly</i> instead of a semi-monthly publication. The -Publisher hopes that the change will be agreeable to his patrons. He -is firmly persuaded of its expediency in various respects.</p> -<br> -<br> -<hr align="center" width="100"><a name="sect02"></a> -<br> -<br> -<div align="right"><small>For the Southern Literary Messenger. </small></div> - -<h4>SKETCHES OF THE HISTORY</h4> - -<h5>And Present Condition of Tripoli, with some accounts of the other -Barbary States.</h5> -<center>No. I.</center> -<br><br> -<div align="right"><i>Washington City, November, -1834</i>. </div> - -<blockquote>Agreeably to my promise, I send you the sheets containing <i>Sketches of -the History and present condition of Tripoli, with some account of the -other States of Barbary</i> which may perhaps be found worthy of -insertion in the "S<small>OUTHERN</small> L<small>ITERARY</small> -M<small>ESSENGER</small>." They are the fruits of -researches made for my amusement, into the history of those countries, -and to which I was led by information accidentally obtained respecting -the present condition of affairs in Tripoli.</blockquote> - -<blockquote>The north of Africa has so long remained in comparative obscurity, -exercising little or no influence in the grand game of national -contests, which forms the subject of our most interesting modern -histories, that works relating to it are few in number, and generally -bear unequivocal marks of the ignorance or prejudice of the writers. -For this reason, it is difficult to obtain a correct statement of -facts, and almost always impossible to arrive at motives; persons -therefore who estimate the propriety of labor, by calculating the -value of its produce, would easily be diverted from such researches, -although they might not object to profit by their results.</blockquote> - -<blockquote>I have endeavored to arrange into a regular series, the facts thus -collected, passing lightly over those which are the most generally -known, and introducing occasionally a few observations, which will not -I hope be considered obtrusive. Yet I fear that I shall not succeed in -communicating any interest to the pages of your periodical; the -details of selfish intrigue, murder and treachery, never relieved by -incidents springing from generous motives, which constitute the -history of the north African nations, are, I must confess, more likely -to excite disgust than pleasurable emotions; still they exhibit man as -he is, without the light of civilization, or the restraints of moral -duty; and may serve to attach us still more strongly to those social -and political institutions, without which a similar state of things -might exist among ourselves.</blockquote> - -<blockquote> I am, sir, &c.</blockquote> - -<div align="right">R. G. </div> - -<hr align="center" width="50"> - -<p>The countries lying on the southern shore of the Mediterranean, and -usually denominated the Barbary States, have for many ages been almost -forgotten by the christian world, or only remembered as the abode of -pirates and ruffians. The maritime powers of Europe seem however at -length to have recollected, that at a short distance from them, are -territories of great extent and fertility, capable of producing most -of the articles now obtained, by means of long and dangerous voyages, -from the East and West Indies, and offering every facility for -commercial intercourse, with the countless nations inhabiting the vast -continent of Africa. These territories are, it is true, already -inhabited by people living under acknowledged governments; but a -continued course of misconduct, which experience has shewn to be -incorrigible, has caused them to be regarded as completely out of the -pale of civilization; and if they retain their independence much -longer, it will be rather from jealousy among their powerful neighbors -than from any respect for their claims to nationality.</p> - -<p>The French have already set the example, by the conquest of the -principal places on the coast of Algiers, and although they have as -yet penetrated but a short distance into the interior, there can be no -doubt that steady and well directed efforts, such as they are now -pursuing, must eventually secure to them the possession of a large and -valuable tract. The British have indeed protested strongly against the -retention of these conquests, but never, that we have heard, on the -grounds of injustice to the vanquished party.</p> - -<p>Tunis, the next in power as in situation to Algiers, would be even a -more important acquisition in a political or commercial point of view, -than Algiers; but it would not probably be reduced without an immense -expenditure of blood and treasure; for its resources are comparatively -great, and its government efficient and well organised. Besides which, -it has not of late afforded any cause for dissatisfaction, having -yielded with a good grace to the necessity of abandoning piracy, and -evinced a disposition to seek for wealth, by the surer means of -industry and commerce.</p> - -<p>Tripoli, the other and least important of the States of Barbary, had, -until lately, pursued a course similar to that of Tunis, and its -condition was highly prosperous; it was in fact the first to desist -from piratical cruises, for which the world is indebted in a great -measure to the efforts of the United States, during the years 1803 and -4. But dissensions in the family of the sovereign have at length -produced a civil war, in which the foreign residents suffer as well as -the natives; and thus have motives, at least specious, for foreign -interference, been given to the two powers which divide between them -the empire of the Mediterranean. The French, as usual, took the lead, -by sending a squadron to Tripoli, which in 1828 dictated the terms of -the redress to be made to their citizens; and they have since that -period, by the aid given indirectly to one of the contending parties, -obtained a degree of ascendancy which has excited the jealousy of -Great Britain.</p> - -<p>These circumstances induced inquiries into the present condition of -Tripoli, which naturally led to others respecting its past history and -that of the neighboring states; and the results being considered -interesting, have been thrown together in the following form.</p> - -<hr align="center" width="50"> - -<p>The north-western part of the African continent is traversed by a -lofty and extensive mountain range, which is known to us by its -classic name of A<small>TLAS</small>. On the northern and western sides, these ridges -extend to the sea, forming by their projections numerous capes and -promontories, which have been the dread of navigators in every age. On -the south, they in many places disappear as abruptly in the great -ocean of sand called <i>Zahara</i>, or the Desert, which stretches across -the continent, from the Atlantic to the valley of the Nile, and the -shores of the Mediterranean; the descent is, however, generally -gradual, leaving tracts of productive soil between the steeps and the -desert; these tracts, though not adapted for the growth of grain, are -so highly favorable to the Palm, that they are known by the name of -Bilad-oul-jerrid, or the Country of Dates.</p> - -<p>The mountains are highest and most continuous in the west; towards the -east they become gradually lower, and there are many breaks in the -chain, through which the sand makes its way from the desert; at length -they disappear entirely beyond the great bend which the coast of the -Mediterranean makes to the southward near Tripoli; and the sand having -no barrier to check its advances, is rolled by the prevailing -southerly winds to the shores of the sea.</p> - -<p>Thus bounded and cut off from other habitable countries by sea and by -sand, the region of the Atlas may be considered as one vast island; -and these circumstances of its situation should ever be borne in mind, -in moral or political speculations concerning it. Hence it was, that -civilization did not gradually overspread it from the east, and that -it could only be colonized by maritime powers; that neither the -Egyptians, the Persians, nor the Macedonians effected its conquest, as -they neither possessed adequate fleets, nor troops accustomed to the -peculiar difficulties and dangers of the desert; and that the Arabs -alone, a people bred among trackless wastes of sand, ventured to -invade it without assistance from the sea. Indeed the little that is -known of the geology of northern Africa, encourages the supposition -that at some past period this country was encircled by water; and -ingenious attempts have been made to prove that it was in reality the -famed island of Atlantis, which was vainly sought by the ancient -navigators in the ocean beyond the Pillars of Hercules.</p> - -<p>The climate and soil of these countries are various, as may be -suspected from their situation and the inequalities of their surface. -Of the interior we know but little, and deductions from facts must -supply the place of observation. On some of the mountains the snow -remains during nearly the whole year, while the valleys and plains -have yielded sugar, coffee and other productions, which require -regular and intense heat. Grain is raised abundantly in the west, and -the olives, grapes and figs of Barbary have been celebrated at all -times. Of its general fertility, the immense population which it -formerly supported is a sufficient evidence, while the athletic forms -of the inhabitants prove its salubrity. But few rivers flow from the -interior into the sea, and the largest streams are said to proceed -from the southern sides of the mountains, whence they are discharged -into lakes or dispersed in the sand.</p> - -<p>The coasts, as already observed, are precipitous and dangerous, -particularly in autumn, during the prevalence of northerly winds; they -are however free from shoals and other hidden difficulties, and have -many ports which are safe and easy of access, while others might be -rendered so by art. It is likewise certain, that many of the existing -obstacles to the navigation would disappear, if a proper survey were -made, and lighthouses were established where requisite; for the charts -now in use are very defective, and no provisions whatever are made by -the governments of the country; this, however, there is reason to -believe, will ere long be corrected.</p> - -<p>The superficial extent of Barbary cannot be as yet calculated; we know -that it has coasts of five or six hundred miles on the Atlantic, and -of about fifteen hundred on the Mediterranean; but the breadth between -the sea and the desert varies considerably, and is no where correctly -laid down. It is probably greatest in the vicinity of the Atlantic and -in Tunis, where it may be one hundred and fifty miles; in Algiers, -Shaler considers it generally to be about sixty miles; but Tripoli is -merely a narrow strip of soil, on the Mediterranean, in many places -traversed by rocky spurs from the mountains, and tracts of sand from -the desert.</p> - -<p>The materials for the early history of this country are very -imperfect; we possess no works of ancient native writers, and the -accounts from which all our information must be drawn, appear in the -form of episode, in those of Greek and Roman historians. It seems to -have been originally inhabited by fierce and intractable tribes, of -which those most advanced in civilization, had only reached the -pastoral state. Herodotus gives us the names of many of these tribes, -which it is now useless to enumerate; those of the eastern part were -comprehended by the Greeks under the general name of <i>Nomades</i>, or -wanderers, which, unknown among themselves, was afterwards converted -by the Romans into <i>Numidians</i>, and became their distinctive national -appellation; the <i>Mauri</i> occupied the western part, and this term, (in -English, <i>Moors</i>,) is now applied by Europeans to all the natives of Barbary.</p> - -<p>The enterprising Greeks and Phoenicians did not allow the advantages -offered by northern Africa to be neglected, and they established -colonies on its coast, which attained a high degree of prosperity. The -Greeks made their settlements on the sterile shore now forming the -eastern part of Tripoli, and lying immediately south of Peloponnesus, -where the Mediterranean forms a gulf anciently called the Great -Syrtis. As the surrounding country is by no means productive, these -colonies could only have been supported by trade with the interior of -Africa; and were probably the resort of caravans bringing gold, gums, -spices, ivory and other precious articles, to be exchanged for the -manufactures of Greece and Asia. Such a traffic, we know from the -accounts of late travellers, is still carried on from Tripoli; and the -part of the desert lying south of it is better adapted than any other -for that purpose, on account of the many <i>oases</i>, or islands of -cultivable soil, which are scattered through it, offering rest, and a -supply of food and water to the caravans while on their march. By -these means, the Greek cities acquired great wealth, and became the -seats of luxury, refinement and science; and stupendous ruins, the -haunt of the jackal and hyæna, still remain to attest the former -splendor of Cyrene and Apollonia.</p> - -<p>The more adventurous Phoenicians made their settlements farther -westward, in the fertile region now composing the states of Algiers, -Tunis and a small part of Tripoli; they flourished even more than -those of the Greeks, and became the principal seats of commerce in the -western Mediterranean. Of many of these colonies, history has -preserved to us the names, and nothing more; one of them, however, far -outshone the rest, and its struggle for supremacy with Rome, forms the -subject of one of the most interesting portions of ancient history. Of -Carthage, perhaps it might be as Sallust conceived, "<i>melius silere -quam parum dicere</i>," better to say nothing, than only a little; yet a -few remarks on its political system and the results of that system, -will serve to illustrate the condition of northern Africa during this -early period.</p> - -<p>The situation of this celebrated city near the narrow streight which -separates Sicily from Africa, was admirably adapted for commerce with -either division of the Mediterranean; its rivals, Agrigentum and -Syracuse, possessed indeed the same advantages of site; but Carthage, -besides a soil equally fertile, had the superiority in her intercourse -with the central parts of the continent. Of her constitution we know -too little to be able to judge what share her government may have had -in her advancement; there is every probability, however, that wealth -had great influence in her councils, and that its acquisition was at -first the great end of individual and national enterprise. The first -object of her statesmen seems to have been, to extend her dominion -over the territory at home; this was attempted by means of colonies -judiciously placed, which by amalgamation with the native tribes, and -by the example of the advantages to be derived from fixed habits, and -a respect for rights to landed property, were gradually subduing and -civilizing the rude aboriginals; these could not from their habits be -easily extirpated, as they might retire to the mountains, or if there -pressed, find a safe retreat in the <i>land of dates</i> behind; they were -moreover valuable as soldiers, and as carriers across the desert. The -other Phoenician colonies, though many of them were never subject to -Carthage, yet all acknowledged her as the head of their league, and -she relied upon their support, in case of invasion from abroad. But -they too were to be reduced, and gradually incorporated into the -Carthaginian empire; things were rapidly advancing towards this -consummation when Carthage fell.</p> - -<p>The other grand object of their policy was the subjection of the whole -country surrounding the western half of the Mediterranean, which was -to be carried on by the quiet and sure means of trading colonies, -established at convenient places on the coast. Thus, was the African -shore to the streights of Gibraltar, that of Spain, the south of Gaul -and the neighboring islands, dotted with colonies from Carthage, each -of which had a territory behind, constantly increasing in extent. To -support these establishments fleets were necessary, which could be -easily manned by a nation having so extensive a trade by sea, while -the native tribes of the interior furnished the hardiest soldiers.</p> - -<p>Yet with all this apparent strength, the feet of the Carthaginian -colossus were of clay; the wealth which enabled her to carry on this -system made offices venal, narrowed the minds of her citizens and -debased their character, while it excited the cupidity of her -neighbors. Mercenary troops she could hire, and was sure of their -fidelity while she paid them punctually; and with such, a general who -should succeed in gaining their confidence, might effect immense -results; but a succession of generals capable of doing this was not to -be expected; and a single defeat was likely to be attended by -depression and disorganization. She had, comparatively speaking, but -few citizens in her armies; but few persons who could be urged by -patriotism or interest in the public glory; and without such a class, -no nation can long sustain itself against extraordinary difficulties. -These defects would have ceased in time, when her possessions at home -had been consolidated, and the other cities had been reduced under her -government; but she was not destined to arrive at this point.</p> - -<p>The prosperity of the north African nations, did not fail to excite -the jealousy and cupidity of surrounding powers, and accordingly we -find that all the great conquerors of the East formed plans for their -subjection. The Persians after conquering Egypt sent an army which -took and plundered Cyrene, but retired without proceeding farther. But -another project was formed against their independence by a conqueror -the most sagacious and successful who has ever yet appeared. Among the -commentaries left by Alexander of Macedon, as recorded by Diodorus -Siculus, (<i>Book</i> xviii. <i>Chap.</i> 1.) was found a project for the -"invasion and subjection of the Carthaginians, and others dwelling on -the coasts of Africa, Spain and the adjacent islands; for which a -thousand ships were to be built, in the ports of Phoenicia, Syria, -Cilicia and Cyprus, larger than those of three tiers of oars; with -directions for carrying a straight and easy road along the shore of -the Mediterranean, from Egypt to the Pillars of Hercules." With such -an armament, and such a leader, it is highly probable that the project -could have been carried into effect; the Grecian colonies already -acknowledged his power, he was therefore secure of finding friends in -the most difficult part of the country, either for naval or land -operations; and the efficiency of his political arrangements in all -other cases, does not permit us to doubt, that he would have founded -in north Africa, a permanent and substantial empire. But this was not -to be; Alexander died in the early summer of life, and of those who -shared his dominions, no one was alone able to carry such a project -into effect, and each was too much engaged in securing his own part, -for any operation to have been conducted in concert.</p> - -<p>While the designs of Carthage were advancing towards fulfilment, she -was gradually becoming a military state. Her fleets covered the sea, -often transporting a hundred and fifty thousand combatants, and her -armies of mercenary troops, led on by one of the most persevering and -ingenious leaders of whom we have any account, overran an immense -extent of territory, surmounting natural obstacles of the most -appalling character, and overthrowing enemies celebrated for their -skill and courage. But her commerce suffered, and the expenses of the -war exhausted her treasury. Of the other African cities, many had -declared and acted in favor of her enemies, while others were ready to -desert her when a favorable opportunity should offer. The native -tribes had acquired civilization sufficient to unite them, and to make -them aware of their own importance; their chieftains had become -ambitious, and Rome made offers to them which Carthage could never -have advanced.</p> - -<p>In this conjuncture, her long absent and long victorious army was -recalled, to meet the enemy on her own shore; but Hannibal had grown -old, and was routed at Zama; during his absence a generation had -arisen which knew him not, and banishment succeeded his defeat. The -once proud republic had lost all, and consented to a treaty, the -ruinous terms of which she was forced to receive as a boon, and did -not dare infringe. Her navy being destroyed, Spain and her other -conquests soon fell into the hands of the Romans, and at length the -decree went forth "Carthago delenda est." The fate of this renowned -city is well known. Within a century from the day on which Hannibal -sent home the spoils taken at Cannæ, the banished Roman Marius sought -refuge among the desolate ruins of Carthage.</p> - -<p>The other Phoenician as well as the Greek colonies, submitted to the -conquerors on favorable terms; the chieftains of the wandering tribes -who had adhered to Rome, were rewarded by the titles of kings; and -enjoying the semblance of sovereignty over territories named by a -majority of the Roman Senate, served to keep each other, and the -cities, in check. In process of time, even this last shew of -independence disappeared, and the region of the Atlas finally became -one Roman province, under the appellation of Africa.</p> - -<p>As a part of the Roman dominions, Africa reached its highest state of -civilization; the cultivation of the land was carried to so great an -extent, that it was considered the granary of the Mediterranean, and -the cities on its coast were the depots of a most extensive trade with -the interior of the continent. Carthage arose with additional splendor -from her ruins, and for more than eight hundred years continued to be -the capital of the province. The inhabitants retained their former -characters; those of the coast were ingenious and industrious; fond of -luxury and not celebrated for their good faith or moral character; the -mountaineers kept up their reputation for courage, and we read of few -battles gained by the Roman arms without the assistance of Numidian -archers, or Mauritanian cavalry. Nor were the Africans excluded from -office, for we find three of them successively filling the Imperial -throne. They embraced christianity with the rest of the empire under -Constantine, and churches innumerable marked the fervor of their -devotion. Their religious zeal was farther shown in the bloody -controversy between the orthodox and the Donatists, which desolated -the country during the fifth and sixth centuries of our æra, and -nearly extinguished the light of civilization. The invasion of the -Vandals soon after inflicted another blow upon its prosperity; these -barbarians were however soon reduced to submission by Belisarius, and -Africa continued under the government of the emperors of -Constantinople, until the commencement of the eighth century. At this -period the followers of Mahomet every where successful in the East, -turned their arms towards the setting sun, and traversing the Desert -which separated the Roman province from Egypt, appeared before the -frontier cities, presenting to their astounded inhabitants the -alternative of the Koran or the sword.</p> - -<p>Tripoli was the first country in the African province invaded by the -Saracens,<small><small><sup>1</sup></small></small> and in order that -its subsequent history may be better -understood, it will be necessary to make a few observations on its -ancient condition, which could not well have been introduced before.</p> - -<blockquote><small><small><sup>1</sup></small> It should here be noticed that the followers of Mahomet -were at first merely termed Arabians, but when their conquests -extended over Syria, Egypt, Mesopotamia, and other adjacent countries, -they were known by the more general name of Saracens, or <i>people of -the East</i>, from the Arabic and <i>Sharak</i>—meaning <i>East</i>. Africa was -and still is called by Asiatics, <i>El Magrab</i>, or the West; though in -Barbary the term is strictly confined to the Empire of Morocco. When -Africa had been overrun, and the same conquerors had passed into -Spain, they were termed Moors by Europeans, as coming from the ancient -country of the Mauri, although the generals, and probably the greater -part of the troops, were natives of Arabia.</small></blockquote> - -<p>In the narrow tract between the Mediterranean and the desert, westward -of the celebrated gulf called the Great Syrtis, and adjoining the -proper territory of their republic, the Carthaginians had at an early -period established several colonies, of which three, Leptis, Oea and -Sabrata acquired great importance as commercial stations under the -Romans, and the district containing them was called Tripolis, or the -Three Cities. Of these Leptis was the most eastern; and extensive -ruins still remain as evidences of its former greatness, in the little -town of Lebda, about seventy miles from Tripoli. Sabrata was at the -western extremity of the district, on the spot now occupied by a -village called Old Tripoli.</p> - -<p>Oea was situated between these two, on the western side of a small -bay, formed by the projection of a rocky point of land into the sea. A -triumphal arch dedicated to the emperors Marcus Aurelius, and Lucius -Verus, and considered the finest monument of that kind remaining, with -several other ancient relics, give reason to suppose that it may have -been a splendid city; and it is mentioned as such by Pliny, Strabo, -and some other writers of the latter days of the Roman empire. We -however learn nothing from them respecting its history; and in the -year 647 of the Christian æra, when the Saracens invaded Africa, -Leptis and Sabrata had sunk into comparative insignificance, while Oea -had appropriated to itself the name of the whole district, and was a -large, wealthy and strong city. The seat of government of the Roman, -or rather Greek dominions in Africa, continued to be Carthage, where -resided the emperor's Prefect or lieutenant; Utica, Hippo, and other -ancient places were still flourishing, and several had grown up to -importance, whose names do not appear in the pages of Roman history; -of these the principal were Sufetala, Bugia, and Tingi or Tangiers.</p> - -<p>The Saracens appeared before Tripoli in number forty thousand, under -Abdallah, governor of Egypt, and Zobeir a distinguished soldier; but -the strength of its walls baffled the attempts of enemies totally -unacquainted with the art of besieging, and enabled its inhabitants to -remain secure, until an immense army had been collected by the Prefect -for its relief. It at length appeared, and actions daily took place, -in which nothing was decided in favor of either party. Gregory the -Prefect fought with gallantry, attended in the field by his daughter; -yet this example was not sufficient to encourage his troops, although -they far outnumbered their enemies; and as a last effort, he -proclaimed that his daughter's hand with a hundred thousand pieces of -gold, should be the reward for the head of the Saracen general. Thus -excited, the African youths took courage, and Abdallah considering his -own person as too important to be exposed to such dangers, remained -during the ensuing action in his tent; but he was soon shamed from -this retreat by the fiery Zobeir, who insisted upon his replying to -Gregory's proclamation, by promising the lady and a similar reward for -the head of the Prefect.</p> - -<p>This promise restored to the Saracens their former courage and vigor, -and in another action Gregory was slain by Zobeir, in his daughter's -presence, and she herself became a prisoner. Thus far we have -materials for the commencement of a romance, but the sequel throws a -doubt over the charms of the lady, or the gallantry of the hero; for -Zobeir received her and her dowry with ascetic coldness, declaring -that "he labored for a recompense far above the charms of beauty or -the riches of this transitory life." The Africans dispirited by these -losses, at length gladly purchased a precarious peace and the retreat -of the Arabs, at the price of a sum equal to about six millions of -dollars.</p> - -<p>This act of submission on their part, brought upon them the ire of -their despotic masters at Constantinople, who instead of assisting -them to repair their forces in anticipation of another attack, loaded -them with taxes, as a penalty for their pusillanimity. By such -treatment they were reduced to despair; and when in 668 the Arabs -again crossed the Desert under Bashar, they were hailed as deliverers; -and the great mass of the inhabitants threw off not only the -government, but the religion of their Greek oppressors, and submitted -to those of the Caliph of Damascus. Africa had suffered severely in -the religious wars occasioned by the schism of Donatus; and since -those sectarians had been put down, or rather extirpated, the utmost -tyranny had been exercised in affairs of religion by the haughty and -unrelenting hierarchy. From this circumstance perhaps, their creed -hung but lightly on the lower orders, being associated in their minds -with stripes and fines; otherwise it is difficult to account for so -sudden and extensive a change, of which history no where else offers -an example. Thus favored, the march of the Saracens was a continued -triumph: a reinforcement arrived, and under the command of the -energetic Akbah, nearly the whole country was subdued. Carthage was -besieged, they having by this time learnt the use of engines and the -art of mining; Tripoli, Utica, Sufetala, Bugia and the wealthy -Tangiers were stormed and plundered; and the fierce conqueror rushed -into the Atlantic, crying, "This sea alone arrests my progress."</p> - -<p>The christian powers of Europe beheld the conquests of the Mahometans -with dread, and a combination was formed among them for the recovery -of Africa. Expeditions were sent from Constantinople, Sicily and -Spain, which united under the command of John the Patrician, a -renowned Captain, proceeded to the relief of Carthage. Before they -arrived, that city had fallen; they however recovered it, and -instantly gave battle to the enemy, under the walls of Utica. The -christians were totally defeated, and the small remains of their army -took refuge in the ships, and abandoned the country. The Roman power -was every where overthrown; Carthage, retaken by the Arabs, was razed -to the ground; and fifty miles south of it was founded a new city, -called Kairuan, which was long the capital of Africa, the seat of -Mahometan splendor and learning in that quarter.</p> - -<p>But the invaders received a new check from a direction whence it was -least to be expected. The sea coast as we have observed, although much -reduced in point of wealth and refinement, by the excesses of the -Vandals and the religious wars, was still a cultivated region, -supporting a numerous population, the descendants of the Greeks, -Phoenicians and Romans. But the mountains and the country behind them -remained in possession of the aboriginal race, who under the name of -Berbers, retained their old pastoral and predatory habits, and were a -constant source of trouble to the foreign rulers of the province. -Among these people appeared a female named Cahina, of extraordinary -courage and address, who persuaded them that she was inspired, and -that an opportunity was offered for regaining possession of the -country. An immense multitude were thus speedily assembled under her -banner, equally daring and enthusiastic with the Saracens, who were -attacked with an impetuosity never before displayed against them in -Africa. Success encouraged the mountaineers, and in an incredibly -short space of time the invaders were driven into Egypt. This being -effected, the prophetess proposed to take away all inducement for -their return, by laying waste the country. Her proposal was readily -assented to by persons who had no property but their tents, flocks and -horses; and dreadful were the consequences of this determination. The -fertile territory was made desolate, and the splendor of civilization, -already much dimmed by the fury of Vandals and religionists, was -entirely obscured. The unfortunate inhabitants of the coast, thus -pressed on all sides, in their despair, invited the Saracens to -return, and aided by them, made head against their savage destroyers. -In the first battle the Berbers were totally routed, and their queen -slain; this bond of union being destroyed, they were soon dispersed, -or reduced to slavery.</p> - -<p>The Arab power was now undisputed; in a very short period there were -no more christians to be taxed. The few remaining churches became -mosques; all traces of former manners and institutions disappeared; -and a torrent of Asiatics overflowed the country, establishing in -every part their own customs and language. Of the Arabs many betook -themselves to the Desert, where their descendants still wander, -scarcely distinguishable from their brethren of the Arabian sands. The -others gradually amalgamated with the natives, and at the present day, -the fixed inhabitants of Barbary form one race, differing but little -among themselves in appearance, habits or language, and known to -Europeans by the general name of Moors. The mountains and the borders -of the Desert are still possessed by tribes speaking a language -totally distinct from all others known—nominally professing the -Mahometan religion, but regardless of its precepts—dwelling in tents, -and wandering from pasture to pasture with their flocks and -herds—displaying the same fierce and indomitable character which -distinguished the aboriginals, from whom they are in all probability -descended. The most powerful of these tribes are the Kabyles, who -principally inhabit the territory of Algiers, where by their impetuous -inroads, they present the greatest bar to the establishment of the -French.</p> - -<p>Africa was scarcely possessed by the Saracens, ere those restless -conquerors passed over to Spain. Their character seems however to have -been already softened; for we no longer find among the Moorish -invaders of the peninsula, the fierce barbarism of the early followers -of Mahomet; and the kingdoms which they founded in that delightful -land, were celebrated for the industry, ingenuity and cultivation of -their inhabitants. The Moors of Spain soon threw off their allegiance -to the Caliphs in the East; and two independent kingdoms were also -founded in Atlantic Barbary. In 790, Edris-ben Abdallah, governor of -Almagrab, <i>or the West</i>, which name was applied to the ancient -Mauritania, assumed the title of Sultan of Fez, from his capital city; -his successors ruled supreme over Western Africa, until the middle of -the eleventh century, when the Almoravides, a fanatic sect, obtained -possession of the southern part, and established the kingdom of -Maraksh, or Morocco. These two principalities now form the empire of -Morocco. Eastern Barbary in the gradual dismemberment of the Arabian -dominions, first became one kingdom under a family of sovereigns -called the Aglabites, who for some time reigned with great splendor at -Kairuan, they were overthrown in 909, by an expedition from Sicily, -then a Saracen province, and the country was for nearly six hundred -years after, ruled or ravaged by various dynasties.</p> - -<p>At length, towards the commencement of the sixteenth century, the -Moorish kingdoms in Spain were overthrown, and a rage for conquests in -Africa pervaded the Peninsula. Eastward of Morocco and Fez, Barbary -was at that time divided into a number of small principalities, each -consisting of a strong town with as much of the surrounding country as -it could keep in subjection; the principal of them were Algiers, -Bugia, Oran, Tunis, Telemsen and Tripoli. Against these places -numerous expeditions were sent out from Spain which generally proved -fruitless; however, some places on the coast were taken, among which -was Tripoli, or Trablis, as it was then called. It fell into the hands -of Ferdinand, the Catholic, in 1510; but his more politic successor, -the emperor Charles the Fifth, probably not knowing what else to do -with places so inconvenient, surrendered it twelve years afterwards, -with the adjacent island of Malta, to the knights of St. John, who had -just then been expelled from Rhodes by the mighty Sultan Solyman. -Malta was a barren rock, and Tripoli had sunk from its former -greatness, little remaining but its walls, its castle and its port. -Both places were however capable of being strongly fortified, and the -knights required nothing else; they therefore accepted the -assignments, and applied all their energies to render their new -habitations capable of resisting the shocks to which they would soon -inevitably be exposed.</p> - -<p>The Turkish power was at this period in the zenith of its prosperity, -and Europe again trembled as in the days of the immediate successors -of Mahomet. The Mediterranean was swept by innumerable cruisers under -its flag, commanded by daring and ferocious captains, who completely -destroyed the commerce of christians in that sea, and made frequent -descents on the coasts of Italy, Spain and the islands, which they -plundered, carrying off the inhabitants for the purpose of extorting a -ransom. Of these the most famous were Urudsch or Horuc, and his -brother Chaireddin, successively dreaded in their day by the -appellation of Barbarossa, or the <i>red beard</i>.</p> - -<p>Urudsch being anxious to have some port in the Western Mediterranean, -to which he could at intervals retire with his booty and prisoners, -offered his assistance to the prince of Algiers, who was endeavoring -to regain his possessions from the Spaniards; and no sooner had he -effected this, than he seized upon the city, murdered his confiding -ally, and declared the country subject to the Porte. On his death, -which soon after happened, his brother Chaireddin assumed the command -and succeeded in expelling the Spaniards from a small island, close to -the city called Algesr or <i>the island</i> which they had for some time -held; he then connected it with the main land by a causeway, and thus -formed the present port of Algiers, which takes its name from the -island. He was afterwards regularly invested by the Porte, with the -title and powers of a Pasha, or viceroy; and obtaining large additions -to his army, composed entirely of foreigners, he reduced the country -to subjection.</p> - -<p>This being effected Chaireddin turned his attention to the neighboring -state of Tunis, against which he prepared a powerful armament, -nominally for the purpose of reinstating its exiled prince Alraschid; -under this pretence, he easily gained the capital, which he instantly -declared to form a part of the Turkish empire. Alraschid died a -prisoner in Constantinople; but Muley Hascem, whom Barbarossa had -driven out, applied for assistance to Charles the fifth, which was -readily granted, and that emperor himself commanded the expedition -against Tunis. It appeared before the city on the 19th of July, 1535, -consisting of five hundred vessels, bearing thirty thousand veteran -troops. Barbarossa was not taken unawares, and the conflict was -terrible; the celebrated fortress of the Goletta, which commands the -entrance into the bay of Tunis, was defended with great bravery, by -Sinan a renegade Jew, but it soon fell before the artillery of the -fleet, and Tunis lay exposed. Chaireddin assembled his forces, and -gave battle to the invaders; but he was totally defeated, and the -outbreak of ten thousand christian captives from the prisons of the -city, increased the confusion; the Turkish army fled to Bona, and -Tunis was instantly stormed by the imperial troops. Muley Hascem was -restored to his throne, on terms most favorable to the christians; but -in a few years more, we find the Turkish power again established, and -this country continued to be governed by Pashas, from Constantinople, -until 1684, when a certain Hassan-ben-Ali obtained sovereign -possession, and his family have ever since held the crown under the -title of Bey, paying however a tribute to the Sultan.</p> - -<p>Charles the fifth was so much elated by his success at Tunis, that he -led another expedition in 1541, against Algiers, which was governed by -Hascen Aga, Barbarossa having been elevated to the office of Capoudan -Pasha, or High Admiral. The imperial troops landed at a short distance -east of the city; but immediately after there arose one of those -terrific storms of wind and rain, to which that coast is subject in -the autumn; the troops unprovided as yet with tents, were drenched in -rain, their ammunition was spoiled, and they were thrown into -confusion at the first onset of the Turks. The ships were many of them -lost, others dismasted or driven on shore, and the Emperor, after -great personal hardships, made his escape with a small remnant of his -gallant force.</p> - -<p>The unfortunate issue of this attack probably contributed more than -any other circumstance to the long impunity enjoyed by Algiers, which -continued until within a few years past to insult the rest of the -world by its piracies, and had come to be considered as absolutely -impregnable. It was governed at first by a Pasha, appointed from -Constantinople in the same manner with other parts of the empire; but -in time, the garrison were permitted to elect their own chief, subject -however to the confirmation of the Porte, which was never refused as -the request was always accompanied by a present. The garrison and all -the officers of the government were foreigners; no native even though -the son of Turkish parents, being eligible to any; and no where else -probably in the world would have been found such a collection of -abandoned miscreants. The chief was in reality a Pasha of three tails, -or viceroy of almost unlimited powers—his peculiar appellation being -derived from his enjoying the right of having three horse-tails borne -before him in public. In the christian world he was usually known by -the appellation of <i>Dey</i>, which word however means <i>uncle</i> in Moorish, -and was perhaps originally a nickname; it was never applied in -Algiers. No prince or officer ever held his place by a more precarious -tenure; seldom has one died a natural death, and it is certain that -the ex-Dey, Hussein, who surrendered the city to the French, is the -only one who could have said "I was once Pasha of Algiers."</p> - -<p>Tripoli remained in possession of the knights of St. John until 1551, -when they were attacked by a Turkish army under the command of the -same Sinan, who had defended the Goletta against Charles the fifth, -aided by the squadron of Dragut a noted captain, in character similar -to the Barbarossas. The besieged conducted their defence with great -gallantry, but the town being burnt, they were forced to take refuge -in the castle, which they continued to hold out in hopes of relief -from Europe. But none came; the Seigneur d'Aramont, while on his way -as ambassador to Constantinople from Henry the second of France, -stopped at Tripoli and endeavored to obtain a suspension of the siege, -until some arrangement could be made with the Porte; but this -proposition was rejected by Sinan, who was sure of his prey; and all, -that the ambassador succeeded in procuring, was a capitulation on more -favorable terms, which being accepted, the governor John de Vallier -surrendered the castle, on the 16th of August, 1651, and retired to -Malta. Dragut took possession of the place which he rebuilt and -strengthened; and having been declared Pasha, established a system of -government, similar to that of Algiers; it was however more dependant -on the Porte, the chief being always appointed from Constantinople.</p> - -<p>The states of Barbary thus became reduced in number to four, viz: the -independent empire of Morocco in the west, and the regencies, as they -are termed, of Algiers, Tunis and Tripoli, under the suzerainty of the -Sultan. Several places were taken and held at different periods by -Spain; for instance Oran, which was surrendered to Algiers in 1792, -after having been held since its capture in 1510 by the famous -cardinal Ximenes; and Ceuta a strong place nearly opposite Gibraltar, -which is still subject to Spain, and serves chiefly as a place of -imprisonment for political delinquents.—These states occasionally -carried on some commerce among themselves, or with Europe and Asia; -but their principal support was derived from piracy. Their cruisers -were generally small vessels, crowded with desperate ruffians, who -succeeded chiefly by boarding, either directly from the decks, or by -the aid of boats; thus their prizes were but little injured, and were -sold profitably in Barbary, whilst the crews were retained in slavery, -unless redeemed at a high ransom. To preserve their citizens from this -horrible fate, many commercial nations were obliged to pay enormous -sums as presents to the governments of these countries, which regarded -no treaties while this was neglected. It is, however, to the honor of -the United States, that our government opposed these demands, as soon -as it was in a condition to render resistance effectual; and it was -while successfully employed in humbling these audacious pirates, that -our cannon were first heard in the Mediterranean.</p> - -<p>The length of this article renders its entire insertion in this number -impossible,—it will however be concluded in our next.</p> -<br> -<br> -<hr align="center" width="100"><a name="sect03"></a> -<br> -<br> -<div align="right"><small>For the Southern Literary Messenger. </small></div> - -<h4>THE DYSPEPTIC MAN.</h4> -<br> -<blockquote>M<small>R</small>. W<small>HITE</small>,—I am so unfortunate as to be the wife of a dyspeptic man, -and shall find some relief if you will permit me to spread my -complaints upon the pages of your Messenger. Men are "<i>April when they -woo, December when they wed</i>," as I have found to my cost. My husband -was once as tender and affectionate as I could wish, but poor man he -is now totally changed; I suppose it is owing to his having the -dyspepsia. He is so peevish and fretful I hardly dare speak to him;</blockquote> - -<center><small>"He's always compleenin frae mornin to e'enin;"</small></center> - -<blockquote>and it is impossible to keep pace with the endless variety of his -aliments. If I happen to make a mistake and inquire after the wrong -pain, he flies into a violent passion and reproaches me for a want of -sympathy in his sufferings. It was but yesterday I happened to say, my -dear how is the pain in your back? [I had forgotten it was his side.] -This was enough; he cursed matrimony and swore it was the vilest of -all institutions; that a wife was nothing more than a legalized -tormentor; that if he were single, he would not marry any woman under -the sun—no, not if she had a bulse of diamonds torn from a Begum's -ear, and much more in the same strain; and at last cooling down, he -asked me if I did not remember that his last pain was a pain in the -side, and then entered into such a history of his malady, that I -sorely regretted I had opened my lips upon the subject. What right -have we to worry other people thus with our maladies? I never tell -mine to any but the doctor, because I know that nobody else listens, -and I doubt very much whether <i>he</i> does half his time. If any one -gives my husband the common salutation of how d'ye do? oh dear, he -begins at the beginning of his disease, [like an old gentleman of my -acquaintance who always begins at the Revolution,] and traces it down -through all its variations for the last five years—tells all the -remedies he has used and their effects, until you may see a half -suppressed smile lurking about the lips of the interrogator, which -increases at length to so broad a grin, that I am in agony for the -consequences. He has tried in turn every remedy of every quack upon -earth, and has gone so far as to punch himself almost to death with -his <i>own fists</i>, by the advice of one Halsted. At first he is always -pleased with the medicine, but at the end of two or three days he -protests that he is worse, much worse; and vents his spleen upon the -physic, the inventor, and upon me for permitting him to use such vile -trash. Sometimes he comes to me and tells me exultingly that he has at -last found out the panacea—the grand catholicon for all his -sufferings. "My dear B——," he will say, "let me explain to you the -philosophy of this matter. When food is taken into the human stomach, -if it cannot undergo a proper digestion it goes through the -putrefactive process; just such a process as would take place in -animal or other substances, if exposed to the action of heat and -moisture in the open air: a quantity of carbonic acid gas is -disengaged, and this gas filling the stomach acts by mechanical -pressure, and thus produces the pain I feel. Now I have discovered -that in consequence of my habit of eating fast, my food is not -sufficiently <i>triturated</i>, and of course the gastric juice [heaven -help me!] cannot act upon it; and I am exactly in the situation of the -sheep or any other ruminating animal, who swallows the herbage whole, -and then <i>regurgitates</i>, that it may undergo a better mastication. -Well what then is the remedy? I will tell you; I will make John pound -my food in a mortar, which will supply the necessary trituration, and -thus I shall be a well man." He sent off immediately to a druggist and -purchased a nice little wedge-wood mortar, and there stood John every -day behind his chair, pounding his meat, bread and vegetables, into a -revolting mass, until my poor ears were well nigh deafened with the -shrill din of the pestle against the sides of the mortar. Was ever -woman so beset? At the end of a week, finding himself no better, he -threw the mortar, pestle and all at John's head, and would certainly -have pounded <i>him</i> to death but for a fortunate dodge, which permitted -the mortar to come in contact with my china press, where it made sad -havoc among my most valuable ware. He was very glad he said, because I -had no business to let the press stand there. It was on the tip of my -tongue to say, "bray a fool in a mortar," &c., but I checked the -impulse, and mildly said, I was very sorry indeed that he could get no -relief. This somewhat mollified him, and the next day he came to me -and apologized for what he had done, and promised to repair the damage -by making me a handsome present; but this calm was of short duration, -for he soon relapsed into gloom—and as he sat by the fire smoking his -pipe, he all at once declared that it must have been the cursed -tobacco which had poisoned his existence; that during the combustion -of the tobacco an oil was disengaged, which mixing with the saliva, -was taken up by absorption into his lungs, and had eaten them to a -honeycomb. John was immediately called: "Here," said he, "John, take -this pipe, and d'ye hear sir, hide it—hide it where I never can find -it again." John accordingly took the pipe, but struggled in vain to -choke his laughter. Before he could escape from the room, he burst out -into such a loud, distinct, irrepressible ha! ha! that there was no -mistaking the thing, and he was soundly caned for his involuntary -breach of decorum. About three days after this, in the evening after -tea, my husband's favorite time for smoking, I observed him very -restless indeed; he rose, walked about the room, sat down, whistled, -hummed a tune, and rose again. At last he began to rummage about the -wainscoat and mantlepiece, and behind the book case, and suddenly -turning round he called John in a softened voice; "John, my good -fellow, where is my pipe? I must have left it in the study; do go and -look for it." John hesitated and grinned.—"What the devil is the -fellow laughing at? Begone sir, and bring my pipe immediately." John -speedily vanished. Turning to me, you see, said my husband, my unhappy -condition; my very servants turn me into ridicule, and you do not -reprove them for it. I could not reply, but felt anxious to point out -to him that he could never hope to be well, because he would not -adhere for a space of time sufficiently long to any plan whatever. His -scheme now is to eat nothing but cold bread. It must be set away in a -pure place to <i>ripen</i>, as he calls it. Hot bread just from the oven he -says is giving out carbon continually, and has not imbibed a -sufficiency of oxygen to make it wholesome. Can you forbear smiling my -friend? Now I know that there is nothing of literature in all this, -unless the chemical disquisitions of my wretched husband may be so -considered; but nevertheless I flatter myself you will give me a place -in your Messenger, because many a victim of dyspepsia may look in this -mirror and see himself.</blockquote> - -<div align="right"><small>BELINDA</small>. </div> -<br> -<br> -<hr align="center" width="100"> -<br> -<br> -<h4>BEAUTIFUL EXTRACT FROM LACON.</h4> -<br> -<p>Posthumous fame is a plant of tardy growth, for our body must be the -seed of it; or we may liken it to a torch, which nothing but the last -spark of life can light up; or we may compare it to the trumpet of the -archangel, for it is blown over the dead: but unlike that awful blast, -it is of earth, not of heaven, and can neither rouse nor raise us.</p> -<br> -<br> -<hr align="center" width="100"><a name="sect04"></a> -<br> -<br> -<div align="right"><small>For the Southern Literary Messenger. </small></div> - -<h4>THE REPORTER'S STORY,</h4> -<h5>OR THE IMPORTANCE OF A SINGLE SYLLABLE.</h5> -<br> -<p>How much may depend on a single syllable! What direful consequences -may be produced by the suppression of even the smallest component part -of a word!—Gentle reader, be as patient as you are gentle, and the -perusal of the following <i>true</i> story will convince you of the -correctness of these exclamatory positions.</p> - -<p>Late in the autumn of 1826, I left the city of New York in a steamboat -for Philadelphia, on my way to Washington, where I was to perform the -arduous, if not very dignified duty, of reporter of debates in the -Senate of the United States, for the leading journal of that -metropolis. My wife accompanied me, and on stepping on board the Swan, -(so was our steamboat justly called,) we found ourselves elbowed and -jostled by a throng of travellers from various parts of the Union, -wending their way, in most instances, to the capitol.</p> - -<p>When the steamer had left the wharf, and the haste and bustle of the -moment had ceased, I had time to inspect the countenances of the -crowd, and recognized with much pleasure, the single familiar face of -an officer of the treasury department, with whom I had formed a -partial intimacy during a former visit at Washington. We met with much -cordiality, and soon became engaged in recalling our recollections of -past events.</p> - -<p>My friend, it appeared, was personally and officially known to several -individuals of our company; and without the formality of introduction, -I soon found myself on easy travelling terms with four or five genteel -looking men. Among these, the only persons necessary to mention, were -a member of the House of Representatives from Massachusetts, whom I -choose to designate as Mr. C.; another from a neighboring state, who -will be sufficiently known to the reader as Mr. D.; and a young naval -officer, whose name, if he had one, I have forgotten.</p> - -<p>A free and easy, gossiping conversation was kept up with considerable -vivacity by this group of strangers, the topics of which were various. -Politics and theatricals predominated—New York was then, as she is -now, the focus of both. The election of De Witt Clinton for the last -time, as governor of the state, over a young and popular candidate, -supported by the fragments of several exploded parties—the rising -importance of the anti-masonic party—the Italian Opera, and Signorina -Garcia, then in great vogue—the last appearance of Edmund Kean, after -his fatal frolic in Canada, and the first appearance of Macready, who -had just then made his debut on the American stage, to surprise and -puzzle the people by a style as new as it was polished and severe. -Such subjects beguiled the hours—and as I had long been almost as -conversant with the green room as the editor's closet, I was enabled -to contribute my full share to the gossip of our little coterie.</p> - -<p>My Massachusetts acquaintance was a stout, well built, middle-aged -man, with a bold and open countenance, which expressed good humor, and -not a little self complacency. It seemed as if one could read on that -face the conviction of its owner, that he was born to be a member of -congress, a great man, and a clever fellow. A travelling cap, worn -carelessly, or rather with a careful affectation of negligence, on one -side of his head, and a slight rattan, which he twirled with a -practised hand, evinced a determination on his part to appear to the -very best advantage. Without these, and other affectations, which I -observed in Mr. C., no one could have mistaken him for other than a -well bred gentleman. His attempts to enforce the acknowledgment of the -character by aping the airs of fashionable folly, might cause a -momentary doubt, whether the whole was not affected. We often perceive -similar mistakes in ambitious men brought up in seclusion—but in the -present instance, a stranger was soon undeceived by the conversation -of Mr. C., which gave assurance of a cultivated mind, and the habit of -associating with the learned and the intellectual.</p> - -<p>The characteristics of the other lawgiver to whom I have alluded, were -less complicated. His was a face as black as night. His beard, -whiskers, hair and eyes were coal black—the latter small and -piercing. No other feature was worth noticing, and the whole taken -together, formed, if not an <i>ugly</i> countenance, one which came very -nearly up to that epithet. His dress was a pepper-and-salt frock, vest -and trowsers, and his hat had evidently passed its prime. In manners -he was the opposite of Mr. C. There was a bluntness in his remarks, -and a sharpness and brevity in his replies, entirely unaffected, but -not altogether pleasing. On a partial acquaintance, you had such -doubts of him as you would entertain of a partly tamed <i>bruin</i>.</p> - -<p>The young naval officer was like all <i>young</i> naval officers, with a -dash of spirit which he seemed solicitous to display—a stiffness of -deportment which evinced that the thoughts of discipline could not -easily be shaken off, and an apparent consciousness of the admiration -to which his profession and his <i>dress</i> entitled him from people of -every degree. Nevertheless, he was agreeable, and condescended, most -benevolently, to mingle in the conversation with those around him.</p> - -<p>Passing the time between these companions, and an occasional peep into -the ladies' cabin to see that nothing was wanting to the comfort of my -wife, (who was deterred by the chilliness of the atmosphere, from -joining me on deck) the journey was uncommonly agreeable, until we -reached Philadelphia. At that city my treasury friend left us, not so -much regretted as he deserved to be, because his place was supplied by -the new companions to whom I have alluded.</p> - -<p>We were shortly transferred to another steamboat, in which, after -about two hours' delay, we proceeded to New Castle. A change of -considerable extent had taken place in our company. We had lost many -faces to which we had been familiar during the morning—and we had -gained many others which wore the first gloss of newness. I have -already said that I had not been formally introduced to the gentlemen -whose acquaintance had been pressed upon me—yet we had learned each -other's names, and used them with freedom. Probably I was the only -<i>incognito</i> among them—the only man whose profession was unknown, and -therefore the only one liable to doubt or misconception. But of such a -chance I did not then dream.</p> - -<p>Among the new passengers were two ladies, one quite young, although -the mother of two or three children. She was pretty, and, as I -afterwards found, very talkative. The other was a matron more advanced -in years, and with a still larger number of children. Her dress was -half mourning, her manner grave and lady-like. With these ladies I -perceived that my wife had entered into conversation on their first -arrival on board, and my occasional visits to the cabin shewed me that -their gossip, was kept up with much spirit. Returning from one of -these calls, a strange gentleman addressed me, and asked if my name -was S——; I replied in the affirmative, and after a very civil -preface, he requested, (as I was the only gentleman with a lady on -board,) that I would give my protection to a female acquaintance of -his and her family, who were on their way to Washington. He observed -that he should go no farther than Baltimore, and from that place he -would be obliged to me to take charge of them. I readily assented: we -went to the ladies' cabin, where I was introduced with all due form, -to Mrs. M., the elder and graver of the two ladies already mentioned. -She had made herself acquainted with my wife, and all parties seemed -pleased with the arrangement.</p> - -<p>On going above, I found my friends, the two members of congress and -the naval officer, laying plans for a game of whist on board the -Trenton steamboat, which was to take us from Frenchtown. I was asked -to make one of the party, and assented. A few hours brought us to New -Castle, where stages were in readiness to transport us across the -isthmus, to Frenchtown—for it must be remembered, that there was then -neither canal or rail road between the two points.</p> - -<p>As the oldest passengers, I presume, my wife and I were seated in -stage No. 1, with a motley group of persons. Not one of our newly -formed acquaintances were with us, and in our carriage there was not -an individual with whom five minutes conversation could be sustained. -I made repeated efforts to arouse our fellow passengers, but after -receiving each time a monosyllabic rebuff,—a crusty yes or no, as the -case might be,—I relinquished the attempt, and confined my endeavors -to make myself agreeable to my good woman, who gave me an amusing -detail of a conversation while on board the steamboat, between herself -and the younger of the two ladies to whom I have already referred. -Mrs. R., as my wife informed me, had favored her with a detailed -history of her family, her husband, children and herself, with all -things thereunto appertaining, even down to the fashion of her last -new bonnet. Having thus exhausted herself by this unsolicited -confession, or as the Scotch say, having "made a clean breast," she -remained silent, apparently expecting a similar display of frankness -from her auditress. But my wife did not readily recognize the -principle of reciprocity in such cases—and accordingly gave the -conversation a different turn. This, however, failed to meet the views -of the communicative lady. Nothing short of mutual confidence seemed -to tally with her notions of politeness to strangers. And finding that -my wife still hung back, she proceeded to cross-examine her upon her -domestic affairs, family connexions, and most closely on my objects -and pursuits in life, and purpose in visiting the capitol at this -season. To all these questions my wife answered briefly, but truly, -although with reluctance.</p> - -<p>I was much diverted at this novel specimen of female curiosity, and -the tactics observed in its gratification. It appeared to me -uncommonly <i>equitable</i>—for what could evince greater fairness than to -prelude an investigation of the private affairs of your neighbor, by a -voluntary detail of your own.</p> - -<p>About eight in the evening, we reached Frenchtown, where our supper -was waiting on board the Trenton. Having despatched the meal with a -good appetite, and the ladies having withdrawn for the evening, the -engagement for a game of whist occurred to me. I had not, up to that -time, observed any one of our party, and I set out to collect them -together for our match.</p> - -<p>I first encountered Mr. C. pacing up and down the cabin with great -gravity. Walking up to him, I reminded him of the game of whist, -proposing that we should collect our party. To my great surprise, the -manner of the man towards me was entirely changed. He gave me a glance -which looked exceedingly like contempt—replied to my question with a -rude and hasty negative, and turned upon his heel.</p> - -<p>I was astonished, as well I might be, at receiving a cut direct from a -man, who but a few hours before had lavished upon me so large a share -of familiarity and attention. I was chagrined at his contemptuous -manner, and I was puzzled to divine its cause. Indeed, my perplexity -was far greater than my chagrin.</p> - -<p>While I was pondering the matter, I caught a glimpse of my other -congressional friend Mr. D., at some distance from me. I went to meet -him, and put to him the same question I had addressed to Mr. C. As I -spoke, he wheeled partly round, fixed his small black eye upon me for -a moment, with a scrutinizing glance, and without vouchsafing one word -in reply, wheeled back into his former position, and walked from me -with a stateliness and decision of step, which precluded any farther -conference. There could be no mistake in this. It was the <i>ne plus -ultra</i> of <i>cutting</i>. It was more than the cut direct—it was the <i>cut</i> -irrevocable, immutable, eternal!</p> - -<p>Good heavens, said I internally—what can this mean?</p> - -<table align="center" border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" summary="poem2"> - <tr><td><small>Is it the moon ——<br> - That comes more near to us than she was wont,<br> - And makes men mad?</small></td></tr> -</table> - -<p>If, thought I, the young "Middie" plays me the same game, it will be -evident that they act in concert. It is worth testing—and <i>apropos</i> -to the thought, he just then passed quite near me. I assumed as much -ease as the circumstances of the case would permit, (for it will not -be thought remarkable that I had been considerably disconcerted)—and -reminded him of our contemplated game of whist. He looked at me with -cool indifference, as though he had never seen me before in his life, -observed that a party could not be made up, and, waiting no further -question, passed me, whistling some naval air, and looking in another -direction.</p> - -<p>This last rebuff completed my indignation and perplexity. But it was -an evil which must be borne,—for however annoying I might find such -treatment—the caprice of strangers in being at one moment as familiar -as old friends, and withdrawing their familiarity at the next, was not -good argument for a quarrel. I could have no claim for satisfaction or -explanation, on an individual to whom I had not been formally -introduced, and with whom my intimacy was of less than twelve hours -standing, for choosing</p> - -<table align="center" border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" summary="poem3"> - <tr><td><small>———— "to face me out of his acquaintance,<br> - And grow a twenty years removed thing<br> - While one could wink."</small></td></tr> -</table> - -<p>I had schooled myself to patience under these undeserved inflictions, -and was preparing to retire, when I was called to the door of the -ladies' cabin by the waiting maid—and met there my wife, who seemed -in a state of tribulation not inferior to my own. She said that since -our arrival on board the steamboat, the two ladies who had been -previously so kind and social, had scarcely noticed her, and had -repelled every attempt at a renewal of former civilities; in truth, -that she had been treated by her companions in much the same manner as -I had been by mine. This was an additional mystery. How could it -happen that contumely and disrespect were cast upon us from parties -who were strangers, having no connexion with each other? The mystery -seemed unfathomable, and after wearying myself with vain endeavors to -conceive some adequate cause for the altered conduct of our fellow -travellers, I fell asleep, and dreamed of myriads of self-important -members of congress, and self-admiring naval officers.</p> - -<p>We found ourselves at the wharf at Baltimore in the morning, and in -the scramble to disengage our baggage from the mass heaped upon deck, -(to which every traveller is premonished by the oft-repeated -advertisement that "baggage is at the risk of the owner")—I met my -whilom friends, but without the slightest token of recognition on -either side. The talkative lady looked grave when I approached her, -and was silent, ("an excellent thing in woman")—the older matron, to -whom I was to act as protector for the remainder of her journey, -shrunk from me as I advanced with the salutation of the morning; and -when all was prepared for our departure from the steamboat, she -declined my proffered arm, as I conducted her to the carriage. To my -wife she was equally distant,—nor did a sumptuous breakfast at -Barnum's, break the ice of her reserve, or rather, her aversion. -Certainly, thus far, our society did not promise to be agreeable on -either side. The lady kept as far aloof from us as circumstances would -allow, avoiding every opportunity of conversation—and we were soon as -silent as she, from a mingled feeling of pride and resentment. We -embarked in a stage about mid-day—the roads was infamous, the weather -chilly and obscure. We had the carriage to ourselves, and the ride was -therefore the more gloomy, as among a promiscuous party we might have -found some one willing to cheer the way by conversation: but as we -were situated with our taciturn companion, excepting in an occasional -colloquy with the driver, our organs of speech were unemployed, and -during the greater part of our journey, we might have been taken for a -party of mutes. As we drew near to Washington, this reserve wore away -in a measure. Whether the lady's tongue became impatient of so long a -period of inaction, or whether her assumed dignity gave way under a -requisition upon it too great for its power—I know not. Certain it -is, that she occasionally deigned a remark, and sometimes condescended -to put interrogatories to me, relative to the distance to the city, -and similar grave matters.</p> - -<p>It was dark when we arrived. I had ordered the coachman to set me down -at Brown's—but I was informed that there was not a vacant room in the -house, and also that every other hotel in the city was full. This -overflow of company as I afterwards ascertained was caused by the -assemblage at Washington of the Chesapeake and Ohio Canal Convention, -adding some hundreds to the ordinary visiters of the period. To add to -the discomfort of wanting lodgings, it was raining with great -violence, and I dreaded a drive through the interminable streets of -the federal metropolis. Our lady companion had observed that she was -to be dropped at the residence of some relative, and moreover stated -that it was a boarding house. But she avoided proposing that we should -quarter with her; and not until I had seen her safely within the -house, and was returning to the stage, did she mention our plight to -her relative. The latter was immediately urgent that we should remain -at her house, declaring that she had several unoccupied rooms, which -were entirely at our disposal.</p> - -<p>This new position of affairs was highly gratifying, and we anticipated -all the comforts of a good supper, and comfortable lodgings, with a -satisfaction which can best be conceived by those to whom those -commodities have, at times, been wanting. My wife was safely seated in -the well warmed dining room, the baggage deposited in the hall,—and I -took the opportunity afforded by a delay in the appearance of supper, -to step across the street, and inform the gentlemen with whom I was -engaged, of my arrival, which was a day or two later than they had -anticipated. On my return to the boarding house, to my utter -astonishment, I saw my wife standing at the street door, in her bonnet -and cloak, while my trunks were piled upon the steps.</p> - -<p>Hey dey, said I, what does all this mean—why are you not warming -yourself at the fire, instead of standing here muffled up, as if your -journey was now to commence instead of being ended?</p> - -<p>We cannot remain, said she, in a tone of chagrin.</p> - -<p>Cannot! What is the reason? Are the people mad here, as well as on the -road?</p> - -<p>It would seem so. I had scarcely been five minutes in the house, when -the landlady, who was at first so eager that we should lodge with her, -changed her mind, and informed me that she could not accommodate us.</p> - -<p>But she will not turn us out supperless, I hope, such a night as this?</p> - -<p>I am not so certain of that. She appears to be infected with the same -disease under which all our travelling companions have labored. People -seem actually to avoid us as though we carried the plague about in our -garments. She bowed me out of the dining room with as little ceremony -as she would have shewn to a mendicant.</p> - -<p>Well, well, said I, come in out of the air, and I will reason with -her. So saying I led the way to the principal apartment in the house, -which served as parlor, drawing room, and dining room—where the -landlady soon made her appearance. She was a small, thin-faced woman, -her form wiry and attenuated; her motions rapid and nervous; -countenance much wrinkled, and of most forbidding expression, and a -voice from which no art could have extracted a sound bearing the -remotest relationship to harmony. Her dress was evidently suited to -the season, when members of congress are seeking quarters for the -winter, and when those who have them at disposal, are interested in -putting the best possible face on every thing appertaining to their -establishments. Her costume was, a silk frock, stretched upon her bony -frame, and a yellow gauze turban, of monstrous size, decked with -crimson ribbons, perched upon the top of her head, which thus seemed -enveloped in "fire and brimstone:"—These awkwardly worn habiliments -betrayed the fact that the lady had passed the day in attending the -calls of the law-givers of the land, with the laudable design of -enhancing the value of her accommodations, in the eyes of some rustic -Solon, but newly caught, by the genteel appearance of their mistress.</p> - -<p>I addressed this formidable figure, with an inquiry whether we could -not remain with her for the night, referring to the state of the -weather as rendering it almost impossible to make search for lodgings -that evening.</p> - -<p>The lady eyed me with great scrutiny, and there was an elevation of -her nasal organ, while looking at me, which distorted to a more -hideous expression than was natural, her weather-beaten visage.</p> - -<p>"Indeed," said she, "you can't stay, and that's all about it. Three -<i>members</i> have just sent down to say that they would take the rooms -what they look'd at this morning, and that they must be fix'd up this -very night. So you see you can't stay. It a'nt my fault—and so I -can't say no more about it."</p> - -<p>"Then we <i>must</i> look for other lodgings. But you can give us supper. -The members of Congress have not bespoken <i>that</i> also, I presume."</p> - -<p>"Well—no. You <i>can</i> eat your suppers here I spose."</p> - -<p>"And this lady can remain here until I can obtain other quarters."</p> - -<p>"Well, I've no particular objection to her sitting here awhile."</p> - -<p>Just then supper was served, and we partook of it. Our travelling -companion was at the table, but scarcely recognized us, and the -landlady was barely civil. When the meal was over, I requested the -latter to allow a servant to accompany me in my search, as I was -ignorant of the location of the principal boarding houses. Her son, a -pert lad of about thirteen, volunteered to pilot me, and without delay -we sallied out.</p> - -<p>It occurred to me as we passed up Pennsylvania avenue, that I had -forgotten to deliver a message of some importance to my employers, -when I called to announce my arrival, and I turned a little out of my -way to the office of the N—— I——, where, while I was closeted for -a few moments with one of the editors, my juvenile guide remained in -the clerk's office.</p> - -<p>On leaving the office, I was surprised at the altered tone of the lad.</p> - -<p>"You had better go back," said the manakin: "it is too late to get -lodgings to-night. My mother can keep you as well as not."</p> - -<p>"But she has refused to do so, and insists that it is out of her power."</p> - -<p>"Never mind that. Go back with me—I'll work the old woman over. See if -I don't tell you the truth."</p> - -<p>"You are a promising lad," said I, "but a little too forward. Let us -go on."</p> - -<p>Finding me determined to prosecute the search, he yielded, and we -called at several houses; but all were full. Against my will, I was -forced to return, with the resolution of making good my quarters for -the night, at any rate, with or without the consent of the lady of the -house. My guide assured me that he could "manage the old woman," and -told me to give myself no uneasiness on the subject.</p> - -<p>After a dreary walk, we reached the house. There sat my wife with her -bonnet still on, for no one had asked her to remove it—and there sat -the lady in the brimstone turban, and fiery ribbons, in whose ugly -visage the words "<i>turn out</i>" seemed written, in characters not to be -mistaken. As we entered, the boy motioned his mother, who joined him -at the door, where they held a whispering colloquy for a few moments. -While they were thus engaged, I learned from my wife that there had -been no change in the sentence of exclusion, altho' no new lodgers had -made their appearance.</p> - -<p>The whispering ceased, and the landlady approached me. What was my -astonishment at perceiving that the gorgon face, before so hideous -with frowns, was puckered into the queerest attempt at a smile that -was ever before witnessed on the human countenance.</p> - -<p>But this was not all. Not only did her face exhibit these convulsive -efforts, but the form approached us, curtseying with a most unhappy -imitation of grace.</p> - -<p>The devil is in the hag—said I internally. What new trick is to be -played now? I was not long in suspense. The boy had kept his promise -it seemed, for he or some one else, actually had "worked the old woman -over." She affirmed that she had just received messages from the three -<i>members</i>, stating that they were not in haste for the rooms—and she -assured us they were entirely at our service.</p> - -<p>We knew that this was a fiction; but we were fatigued, and disposed to -take the good the Gods provided for us, without much question. We were -shewn to our apartments and slept soundly, forgetting all the -vexations of the day.</p> - -<p>The next morning, after having exhausted ourselves in wonderment at -the freaks which had been played off upon us, I left my wife, to make -some calls in the city. I had not been long absent, when she received -a visit from Mrs. M., our travelling companion, who, after the usual -salutations had passed, seemed struggling to suppress a disposition to -laugh, which my wife took to be another mad freak, to be classed with -those she had previously witnessed.</p> - -<p>The propensity at length overcame her, and she burst into a fit of -uncontrollable laughter, which lasted for many minutes.</p> - -<p>Indignant as my wife was disposed to be, at such an unexpected -explosion of mirth, from a lady who had for two days treated her with -haughty reserve, if not absolute contempt, she bore it with patience, -and awaited in silence the conclusion of her visiter's merry humor, -and such explanation of its cause as she might choose to give.</p> - -<p>Every thing must have an end—and the lady at length ceased her -laughter, from absolute exhaustion.</p> - -<p>"My dear madam,—she gasped out—my dear madam—this is very -rude—very rude indeed. You must be surprised at such conduct, and I -beg your pardon but"——</p> - -<p>"It would be an unnecessary dissimulation, to say I am not surprised; -but I presume I shall soon learn to be surprised at nothing."</p> - -<p>"You really then, think you have been associated for the last few -days, with persons little better than bedlamites."</p> - -<p>"I have certainly been exposed to strange conduct."</p> - -<p>"Well, I have come to explain the whole mystery. Do not be offended at -my mirth. I could not resist it. The laugh was more against myself -than you—and the whole affair is so ridiculous, that you will laugh -too, when you know the truth."</p> - -<p>"I own that I have a strong curiosity to be acquainted with the cause -of the strange treatment we have met with. I presume it arose out of -some mistake."</p> - -<p>"Entirely, entirely—and then a blunder so ridiculous—so uncommon! -Excuse me, but really I must laugh—ha, ha, ha. But I will keep you in -suspense no longer; besides, I wish you to laugh <i>with</i> me, and -therefore I will tell you my story. Listen. You remember that at -Newcastle, you and your husband took one of the first stages. Myself -and children were seated in another, in company with Mrs. R., (the -pretty, talkative woman with light hair,) two members of Congress, and -a young naval officer. We had scarcely started, when Mrs. R. commenced -with her usual volubility, running over the various persons who had -fallen under her observation in the steamboat. At last your turn came -to be criticised: 'Did you observe Mrs. S.,' said she, 'the lady with -black hair and blue eyes—rather pretty, and at first I took her to be -quite a genteel personage.' Yes, I replied, I had been introduced to -you, and was to place myself under the protection of your husband, -from Baltimore to Washington."</p> - -<p>"'Did you ascertain any thing of their standing and character,' said -Mrs. R."</p> - -<p>"Not a word said I. My friend Mr. H. told me they were genteel people, -and their appearance warrants his opinion."</p> - -<p>"'Well, really,' said Mrs. R., 'how easy it is to be deceived by -people that one knows nothing about. You would not believe it—I am -sure I would not, if Mrs. S. had not told me with her own lips—I say, -otherwise, I would not have believed that Mr. S. was going to -Washington in such a <i>menial capacity</i>.'"</p> - -<p>"What!" said I.</p> - -<p>"'<i>Menial capacity?</i>' said one member of Congress."</p> - -<p>"'<i>Menial capacity?</i>' echoed the other member."</p> - -<p>"'I took him for a gentleman,' said the naval officer—'Confound the -fellow's impudence.'"</p> - -<p>"But, said I, you must be mistaken, I'm sure. I am to go to Washington -with him."</p> - -<p>"'There must be some mistake,' said the two members of Congress, and -the young naval officer, all in a breath."</p> - -<p>"'Why we have engaged to make up a game of whist with him this -evening,' said the latter."</p> - -<p>"'Certainly!' said one member of Congress."</p> - -<p>"'Certainly!' said the other member of Congress. 'Oh, there must be -some mistake, my good madam. <i>Menial capacity!</i> Impossible!'"</p> - -<p>"'No mistake at all,' retorted Mrs. R., with some asperity. 'I tell -you I had it from Mrs. S's own mouth, and she owned it after a good -deal of hesitation and reluctance. I put twenty questions to her -before I could get an answer.'"</p> - -<p>"Well, said I, if you are so well satisfied that you are right, we are -interested to know who and what these people are. I do not choose to -travel under the protection of a man of <i>menial capacity</i>."</p> - -<p>"'Yes, yes,' said the naval officer, '<i>what</i> the deuse is the fellow. -I should not wonder if he were a pick-pocket, or a black-leg, to judge -by his easy impudence.'"</p> - -<p>"'Very likely,' said one member of Congress."</p> - -<p>"'I have not a doubt of it,' said the other member. 'But let us know, -if you please madam, what he is.'"</p> - -<p>"'As I said before, I would not have believed it if Mrs. S. had not -told me herself,' said Mrs. R., hesitating."</p> - -<p>"'Oh, no doubt you are right,' said the naval officer: 'but please let -us know who it is we have been so familiar with.'"</p> - -<p>"'Well,' said Mrs. R. 'Mrs. S. told me that her husband was going to -Washington to be <i>Porter</i> to the Senate.'"</p> - -<p>Here my wife interrupted Mrs. M. with a fit of laughter almost equal -to that with which Mrs. M. had indulged herself in the outset.</p> - -<p>"So," said the former, "Mrs. R. mistook the word <i>Re</i>porter, for that -of <i>Porter</i>,—an important omission."</p> - -<p>"So it would seem," rejoined Mrs. M. "But let me go on."</p> - -<p>"'<i>Porter to the Senate!</i>' exclaimed every voice."</p> - -<p>"'A fellow who runs errands for the Senators, fetches and carries -bundles, &c., I suppose,' said the naval officer."</p> - -<p>"'I can't conceive what station he is to fill,' said one of the -members of Congress, 'unless it is that of <i>old Tobias, the black -man</i>, who kindles fires, and carries messages.'"</p> - -<p>"'That is it I dare say,' said the other member."</p> - -<p>"'We must cut him,' said the naval officer."</p> - -<p>"'To be sure.'" "'To be sure.'"</p> - -<p>"So it was settled by all present that you were to be cut without -benefit of clergy."</p> - -<p>"I should not have consented to place myself under your protection, -continued Mrs. M., but that I had no choice. Knowing no other person -with whom I could travel, I reluctantly accompanied you; and I trust," -said she, laughing, "that on the road, I shewed a very laudable -aversion to the contaminating society of a <i>Porter</i> and his wife."</p> - -<p>"No one can deny you that merit," said my wife.</p> - -<p>"Well, I cannot ask your pardon for it. There was no malice in the -mistake, and I am almost as much annoyed at it as you can be. After -you arrived here last night, the landlady insisted on knowing what -business brought your husband to Washington; and I reluctantly told -her what I had heard. At the bare idea of lodging a <i>Porter</i>, her -feathers bristled up like those of a Barbary hen. Her yellow turban -looked blue at the idea of such an indignity. She protested that she -would have no <i>Porters</i> in her house, nor no such rapscallions as had -the impudence to go about dressed like decent people, to take in the -flats. And so, my dear madam, you were turned out without much -ceremony, and might have spent the night in the street, but for the -information obtained by the boy at the office of the N—— I——, -which, by giving another syllable to the profession of your husband, -shewed beyond a doubt that you were entitled to christian treatment. -You know the rest, and I trust we shall all of us when we remember -these blunders, acknowledge the <small>IMPORTANCE OF A SINGLE SYLLABLE</small>."</p> -<div align="right">S. </div> -<br> -<br> -<hr align="center" width="100"> -<br> -<br> -<div align="right"><small>Extracted from a Virginia Newspaper, Printed in 1775. </small></div> - -<h4>ON SLEEP.</h4> -<br> -<table align="center" border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" summary="poem4"> - <tr><td><small>O sleep! what though of death thou art<br> - To be an image said,<br> - I wish thee still with all my heart,<br> - The partner of my bed.<br><br> - Thy company, soft sleep, then give,<br> - While in thy arms I lie;<br> - How sweet! thus, without life, to live!<br> - Thus, without death, to die!</small></td></tr> -</table><br> -<br> -<br> -<hr align="center" width="100"><a name="sect05"></a> -<br> -<br> -<div align="right"><small>For the Southern Literary Messenger. </small></div> - -<h4>THE COTTAGE IN THE GLEN.</h4> -<br> -<p>In traversing that region of country in the wilds of Maine, that -borders one of her finest rivers, if you look carefully on your right -hand as you pass through the town of ——, by the post-road, you may -observe a cart-path leading directly into a thick wood, where the -trees tower in majesty and beauty to the very clouds, and look as if -they had thus stood ever since the day when "the heavens and the earth -were finished, and all the host of them." Were it not for this same -cart-path, with its three ridges of bright greensward, and its four -lines of dusky brown, you might doubt whether the silent grandeur of -the forest had ever echoed to the voice or the footstep of man.</p> - -<p>There is something truly grand and impressive in forest scenery. The -lofty trees stretching high toward heaven; the graceful and majestic -waving of the branches, breathing nature's own soft music, which -scarcely removes the impression of profound silence—or which, to -parody the words of Milton, "just makes silence audible;" the deep, -and seemingly "boundless contiguity of shade," and the awful solitude, -make man shrink into himself, and feel that he is in the presence of -the Eternal. The weak spirit of a creature frail as man, is soon -overpowered, if it give itself up to the impressions naturally -produced by contemplating, in solitude, the grandeur of creation. The -first feeling is delight,—next admiration,—then wonder,—then -awe,—and then oppression;—and when it arrives at this point, the -sight of such a little cart-path as I have mentioned, is a great -relief to the feelings: for it shows that a being having passions, and -feelings, and sympathies like his own—as short lived, as dependant, -as insignificant as himself, is, or has been near. The deep shade has -been penetrated; the solitude has been interrupted; and an unbroken -and eternal silence has not forever reigned in the forest.</p> - -<p>If the reader wishes, we will follow this path, and see whither it -will conduct us. Its course is a little devious, probably to avoid the -trunks of the trees, for not one appears to have been felled to -shorten the distance, which is about three fourths of a mile, under -the unbroken shade of the same noble woodland. Now the path begins to -descend a little, and by almost imperceptible degrees, you arrive in a -valley lying between two lofty ridges, that become more and more -abrupt as you advance; and when you have proceeded about the fourth of -a mile, they seem nearly perpendicular on either side. And their -summits being crowned by the lofty trees of the same far stretching -forest, adds much to the apparent depth of the valley, and you feel as -if verging towards the centre of the earth. That little ripling stream -in the valley, beside which we have been walking, now begins to widen, -and presently expands itself into a mimic lake, restrained on the one -hand and on the other by the mountain side, leaving just room enough -on the left for the unbroken cart-path. Your ear is now assailed by -the sound of rushing waters, and a roof appears beyond the lake—so -that a habitation of man is near. No, it is a mill; the dwelling house -is sixty rods below: there it lies, on a beautiful swell in the narrow -valley, made, it would seem, on purpose for its site—and the again -diminished stream is softly murmuring by its side. That is the Cottage -in the Glen. If you please, we will descend, and take our station in -front of it. Before we turned that angle to attain this spot, you were -about to exclaim, "This is the very home of solitude, shut out from -the rest of creation." But look straight down the valley, and far—far -off, see the picturesque and busy village of ——, and the sparkling -waters of the river. The valley is so straight and narrow, and widens -so gradually towards its mouth, and the banks on either side are so -precipitous, that it produces the same effect on the scene beyond, -that a tube does in viewing a picture. Is it not beautiful! Now if you -will climb with me to the foot of that tree that stands part way up -the bank, we will be seated in the shade, and I will give you a sketch -of the inhabitants of the cottage.</p> - -<hr align="center" width="50"> - -<p>Mr. Kirkwood, a native of Massachusetts, and head of the family, is -now upwards of seventy-five years of age; and until verging towards -sixty, was decidedly a man of the world. He was educated at Harvard -University, and at the age of twenty-eight, when he married, was a -good scholar, a finished gentleman, and a successful lawyer.</p> - -<table align="center" border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" summary="poem5"> - <tr><td><small>"There is a tide in the affairs of men,<br> - Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune."</small></td></tr> -</table> - -<p>Mr. Kirkwood seized the favorable moment, and his wealth rapidly -increased. He wished to be rich; not to hoard his wealth—but that he -might be enabled to procure all the indulgencies and elegancies of -life, and move at the head of society. His wish was gratified. He -became rich; lived in splendid style; and his house was the favorite -resort of the wealthy, the elegant, and the fashionable. His wife was -a model of good housewifery, propriety and politeness; and his only -child, a son, was all that the heart of a man of the world could wish. -Highly gifted by nature, and favored with every advantage for the -cultivation of his talents, young Kirkwood was ushered into society, -elegant in person, elegant in mind, and correct in morals. It was -generally conceded that whoever obtained him, would gain a first rate -prize in the matrimonial lottery. Of course, there was no little -competition among mothers who had daughters to dispose of; and young -ladies who wished to dispose of themselves. But the lovely, well -educated, and retiring Mary Bust, engaged his affections without -seeking them; and in winning her heart, and securing her hand, he -insured his own earthly felicity. Gentle by nature, polished and -enlightened by education, unblemished in reputation, and thoroughly -well principled, through the assiduous care and unwearied instructions -of wise and pious parents,—she was all a man could wish for as a -wife, companion and friend; all he could wish for as the mother of his -children. The son's choice gave perfect satisfaction to his parents; -and when in the course of a few years, the young wife gave -successively to the arms of her husband, three sons and a -daughter,—there seemed to be around this family, a confluence of all -that constitutes the felicity of earth.</p> - -<p>But, alas, in the tide of men's affairs, there is an <i>ebb</i> as well as -<i>flood;</i> and this the Kirkwood family now began to experience. The -elder Kirkwood had just begun to discover that his affairs were in -some confusion, when his wife was suddenly snatched away by death. It -was a heavy blow, and he felt it as such. But men seldom die of grief! -Millions have buried the wife of their youth, and been very -comfortably supported under the bereavement; and so was Mr. Kirkwood. -Indeed he had little time to spend in unavailing sorrow, or in -brooding over the memory of the departed one; for the clouds of -adversity became more and more dense about him, and he soon found that -the combined energies of himself and son, could not avert the storm. -Poverty seemed coming upon them "like an armed man." In the meantime, -two of the blooming grandsons were in quick succession conveyed to the -tomb; and just as the storm burst upon them in all its fury, the -younger Kirkwood followed his mother and his two children to the world -of spirits. After this tempest of adversity, Mr. Kirkwood stood like -an oak, scathed by the lightning,—its verdure blasted, and its -branches scattered abroad. He sunk, overwhelmed, and gave way to the -most hopeless despondency.</p> - -<p>There is a spirit in woman that will sustain her under circumstances -which will drive man to despair. And when that spirit is moulded, -guided, and strengthened by religion, it is invincible. Soft as the -harp-tones of the "sweet singer of Israel," did Mary's voice now -breathe on the ear of her disconsolate father.</p> - -<p>"'Shall we receive good at the hand of God, and shall we not receive -evil,' my father? Let us endeavor to say, 'The Lord gave, and the Lord -hath taken away, and blessed be his name!' Arise, my father, and call -upon our God. He 'hears the young ravens when they cry,' and will he -not give his children food? He clothes the lilies of the field, and -will he not clothe us? He binds up the broken heart; will he not then -console ours?"</p> - -<p>"Alas, my daughter," cried the old man, "He is thy God, but not mine. -In the hour of prosperity I forgat him; in the hour of adversity I -dare not approach him. May he, indeed, feed, and clothe, and console -thee, and thy remaining little ones. For me—his vengeance alone will -pursue me. Would I could hide me from his avenging hand, and lay my -head in the grave!"</p> - -<p>The despondency of her father added not a little to the load of sorrow -that pressed on Mary's heart; but she had no time for idle -lamentation. She had duties to perform; duties to him, herself, and -her children; and laying herself low before the throne of mercy, she -spread her sorrows and her wants before her Father in Heaven, and -taking fast hold of Almighty strength, she went forward.</p> - -<p>"My father," said Mary, "'Whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth, and -scourgeth every son whom he receiveth;' and, 'like as a father pitieth -his children, so the Lord pitieth them that fear him.'"</p> - -<p>"But I have not feared him, Mary,—therefore he does not pity me. And -his chastening is the chastening of an offended judge—in -vengeance—not the chastening of a father."</p> - -<p>Mary despaired not, though her father thus repelled all consolation; -and when he sat absorbed in melancholy, and she scarcely dared intrude -upon his thoughts, she would move about the room, just breathing the -lines,</p> - -<table align="center" border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" summary="poem6"> - <tr><td><small>"Come ye disconsolate, where'er you languish,<br> - Come, at the shrine of God, fervently kneel;<br> - Here bring your wounded hearts; here tell your anguish;<br> - Earth has no sorrow that Heaven cannot heal;"</small></td></tr> -</table> - -<p>and at the same time raise a fervent prayer, that his sorrow might not -ultimately prove to be that "sorrow of the world that worketh death," -but the "sorrow that worketh repentance unto salvation." Her prayer -was heard; her efforts were successful. It was not long ere with -heartfelt gratitude, she heard him say, "'It is good for me that I -have been afflicted.' 'The Lord gave,' but I have abused his gifts; -and he 'hath taken away,' and blessed be his name for thus bringing an -erring son near to himself." When this happy change first took place -in the feelings of her father, Mary felt as though she had scarcely a -care or a sorrow left. A future world, uncorroded by cares, unstained -by tears, unblemished by sin, and unvisited by sorrow, opened on the -eye of faith,—and all was peace within. But their pilgrimage was not -yet accomplished; this home was not yet attained; and in the meantime, -something must be done. Scarcely a wreck of their fortune remained; -and Mr. Kirkwood, verging towards sixty, with the energies of his mind -crushed by misfortune, felt it impossible to begin again his career as -a lawyer. The remaining pride of his heart, rendered it extremely -painful to remain amidst his former associates, with whom he could no -longer, on equal terms, hold intercourse; and where every scene called -back the visions of former splendors, and buried friends, with a -sickening influence.</p> - -<p>"Let us fly far from hence, my daughter," said he; "elsewhere I may -recover something of my energy, and be capable of making some effort; -<i>here</i> I can do nothing. Let us fly from the world, and hide ourselves -in seclusion. My soul needs repose. A withering blast has swept over -it, to tear away its idols. The work is done—but the wounds are still -bleeding: and though, I trust, the great physician is at work, there -needs time to perfect a cure. Let us fly from hence, and in some new -and humble occupation, strive to support ourselves for the remainder -of life's journey, and rear these little ones for immortality."</p> - -<p>So that she could be with her father, and her children, to receive the -blessing of the one, and the caresses of the others, it mattered -little to Mary what spot on earth she called home. She was a "<i>widow -indeed</i>." The long, bright vista, through which she had looked on -years of future happiness, with the husband of her love, was closed by -death; and what mattered it, where she fulfilled the remaining duties -of life, so they were but faithfully discharged?</p> - -<p>Through the agency of a friend, the Cottage in the Glen, with the mill -that appertained to it, and a few acres of ground, were purchased. -Mary collected together the few articles that remained of former -abundance; and with the feelings of a woman of cultivated mind and -literary taste, and with all the providence of a mother, foreseeing -the future wants of her children, did she most carefully gather up all -the books that remained of the once large and well selected library. -All things finally arranged, they removed hither.</p> - -<p>A complete revolution had taken place in Mr. Kirkwood's views. He felt -that nothing is really degrading that is not sinful; and he resolved, -as far as practicable, to do his own labor with his own hands. But, -until he could learn the art himself, he was constrained to hire an -assistant, to take charge of his little mill; once familiar with the -business, it was his own employment. The family were very comfortable, -and soon became very happy. Though the furniture of the cottage was -scanty, it was arranged with so much taste, and kept in such perfect -order, that it wore the air of gentility; and a profusion of wild -flowers in the summer, and a blazing fire in the winter, gave an -additional cheerfulness to its appearance. The mill supplied them with -bread, and many other comforts of life, beside paying a poor man for a -day's labor now and then on their little enclosure of potatoes. They -procured an honest and faithful maid servant, who milked their two -cows, prepared the butter and cheese, and spun the wool of their half -a dozen sheep, beside doing all the more laborious work of the family. -No human eye was upon them that had seen them in former days, and they -were fast forgetting a world, by which they were already nearly -forgotten. No real want of nature remained unsatisfied, and their -Heavenly Father was as near them here, as in any other place. Glorious -and consoling idea! that his children can be carried to no spot in -creation, where he will not be present to sustain and comfort them! -How glorious the idea of an Omnipotent God!</p> - -<p>Nothing, under the power of religion, served so much to console the -heart of Mr. Kirkwood, as the presence and the happiness of his -grandchildren. Frederic was eight, and Clara three years old; and they -were as happy at the Cottage in the Glen, as they would have been in -the palace of the Thuileries. From his heart, he could adopt the -language of Paley: "I seem to see the benevolence of the Deity more -clearly in the pleasures of young children, than in any thing else in -the world. The pleasures of grown persons may be reckoned partly of -their own procuring; but the pleasures of a healthy child are so -manifestly provided for by another, and the benevolence of the -provision is so unquestionable, that every child I see at its sport, -affords to my mind a kind of sensible evidence of the finger of God."</p> - -<p>"These children are happy, Mary," he would say; "they feel no regrets -for the past—no fears for the future, but enjoy the present with -zest. Our wants are scarcely greater than theirs. Let us, then, not -regret the past; let us not be anxious for the future; but in -performing present duty, and being grateful for present good, let us -trust our heavenly father, without fear or misgiving."</p> - -<p>Neither Mr. Kirkwood nor his daughter found any leisure for idle -repinings. The indispensable labors of each day, with the care and -instruction of the children, occupied them fully. Frederic was sent to -the district school, there to acquire what he could of education; but -he was an intellectual and thinking boy, and soon began to call on his -grandfather to assist him through the difficulties he encountered, as -his mind rapidly developed. The education of Clara, Mrs. Kirkwood -considered her own peculiar business. And when the little girl was old -enough to go to school, she still preferred pursuing the task herself, -as she dreaded lest her daughter should breathe other than a pure -moral atmosphere.</p> - -<p>Next to religion, the abundant means of education is undoubtedly the -glory and bulwark of New England. And the district school, where the -son of the town pauper may obtain the foundation of an education that -will render him intelligent and useful, is an incalculable blessing. -But wherever human nature is, there is depravity; and where human -beings mingle together, this depravity is called into exercise. Even -young children are not the innocent creatures some persons appear to -suppose; but in almost every school may be found the <i>germ</i> of almost -every vice. So thought Mrs. Kirkwood; and it led her to educate her -daughter entirely at home.</p> - -<p>Time rolled on; and the children at the cottage increased in wisdom -and stature: the parent and grandparent in meetness for the kingdom of -heaven. Industry and economy, both of time and goods, was the order of -the house; and the children cheerfully followed the example set them -by their superiors. Frederic was always diligently employed, when not -engaged with his books; and the healthful and joyous little Clara was -the assistant of each one, as circumstances required, from her -grandfather in the mill, to the servant girl at the washing tub. -Permission to play in the open air, was a holiday to her heart; and -she was light and joyous in spirit as the warblers of the grove. -Content and peace reigned in the family. With each returning sun, -their orisons were duly offered on the family altar; and when the -shades of evening closed around, their thanksgivings and praises -ascended to the throne of the Eternal.</p> - -<table align="center" border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" summary="poem7"> - <tr><td><small>"A holy incense—sweeter, richer far<br> - Than that upon the golden altar shed<br> - In Judah's sacred fane."</small></td></tr> -</table> - -<p>No change of any moment took place in their circumstances, and nothing -in futurity was looked forward to with peculiar interest, until -Frederic attained his fifteenth year. Then, one evening, after having -been unusually thoughtful and silent, he suddenly looked up, and said,</p> - -<p>"I want to be a minister of the gospel, and I want to go to college, -grandfather."</p> - -<p>Both the grandfather and the mother looked up in some astonishment; -but they listened patiently to his plans, and heard him declare what -efforts he was willing to make—what deprivations to endure.</p> - -<p>"Dear grandfather—dear mother," said the eager boy, in conclusion, -"do listen to me kindly. It will do me no harm to make the attempt. -You, grandfather, and our good pastor, will help fit me for college; -and I doubt not, that by my own industry, and what you can -conveniently do for me, I shall some how or other get through. I feel -that I can do nothing without an education."</p> - -<p>"We will think on the subject, my son," said his grandfather, "and in -due time let you know the result of our deliberations. Meantime, -attend to your present duties, and 'take no <i>anxious</i> thought for the -morrow.'"</p> - -<p>The important subject was not mentioned again for the evening; but it -engrossed Mrs. Kirkwood's mind, and kept her waking many hours of the -night. From her son's birth, she had consecrated him to the service of -her Heavenly Father, though she knew not in what way that service -might be demanded. Now she hoped he had consecrated himself; and that -what seemed so aspiring in a youth in his situation in life, was an -impulse from above, rather than the natural workings of an ambitious -mind. But she was helpless in herself, and could only ask to be -directed by Him who is perfect in wisdom; to be provided for by Him -who is infinite in riches. What needed she more!</p> - -<p>The next day Mr. Kirkwood and his daughter held a consultation on the -subject; and when, toward evening, Frederic saw his mother searching -over a chest of old books, his eyes sparkled, and his heart throbbed -with feverish impatience to ascertain if his conjectures were -accurate. His joy was complete, when he saw the necessary books and -grammars come forth; some in a mutilated state, it is true,—but no -matter, so the important parts were but entire. He went about his task -like one in earnest; his progress was rapid; and in due time he was -admitted at college.</p> - -<p>The years of his collegiate life passed rapidly away. The vacations of -spring and autumn he spent in the bosom of his family, giving delight -to the hearts of all by his improvement; assisting in their -labors,—and superintending with deep interest, and assiduous -tenderness, the education of his sister. But the long winter vacation -was devoted to school-keeping,—the most lucrative employment to which -he could, for such limited periods, devote himself. Once he was so -highly favored as to get a school in the neighborhood of the Glen; and -then his labor was a delight, rather than a task, as he could be with -his beloved friends, and direct his sister in her studies. The family -at the Glen, it is true, had to practice more than wonted frugality, -to help in defraying his unavoidable expenses; but no self-denial was -hard, when one so dear was to be benefitted—no sacrifice painful that -was made for so important an object. Clara was by no means the least -efficient in her endeavors to aid her darling brother. As soon as she -completed her thirteenth year, at her earnest and reiterated -entreaties, the servant girl was dismissed, and she cheerfully took -her labors on herself, that Frederic might have the considerable sum -thus saved to the family.</p> - -<p>Meanwhile, Clara's own education progressed, notwithstanding her -situation seemed so unfavorable for study. But she was a rigid -economist of time; and when that is the case with any one, great -things may be accomplished. Although her hands were busily employed a -large portion of the time, a mind, thirsting for knowledge, surmounted -all difficulties. She could not, indeed, touch the keys of a piano, or -the strings of a harp; the spinning wheel and other domestic machines -demanded too large a portion of her time, to have permitted the -acquisition of skill on these instruments, even had she possessed -them. But she knew who Dugald Stewart was, and what he thought of the -"active and moral powers of man;" with Smellie she was intimately -acquainted; and Rollin, Hume, Gillies and Gibbon were her daily -companions. The works of Pascal and Massillon she could read in the -language in which they were written; and with Virgil she could -converse in his native tongue. Above all, she had studied the volume -of inspiration, and had learned the way of eternal life.</p> - -<p>Never had the family at the Glen been happier than when Frederic -returned home, bearing his parchment roll, duly adorned with the -riband, and the imposing seal; and, after some preamble, running thus:</p> - -<p>Notum esto, <i>quod nos, consentiendibus honorandis admodum ac -reverendis collegii antedicti</i> Inspectoribus, <i>anno Christi</i> -MDCCC—<i>admisimum</i> Fredericus Kirkwood <i>ejusdem alumnum, ad gradum</i> -Baccalaurealem <i>in</i> Artibus; &c. But when he joined the domestic -circle, authorized to preach the everlasting gospel, their joy was of -a deeper, holier character. Would I could show you a picture of the -group, as they encircled the blazing hearth on that happy evening. I -will even make the attempt. There sits the venerable grandfather, in -his large arm-chair, his white hairs smoothly parted from off his -ample forehead, with every feature speaking of passions subdued, and a -heart full of gratitude, content and love. Next the mother, with -something like the bloom of youth stealing over her matron -cheek,—while her eye moves in a tear that rises from that deep -fountain of mingled feeling, known only to a <i>pious mother's</i> heart, -as she looks on the son of her love, and that son a <i>believer!</i> -Between these two sits Frederic, comely in manly strength, his whole -countenance expressing heart-felt benevolence to all mankind—and -peculiar love, gratitude and veneration for those by whom he is -encircled. Last, and the darling of all, is Clara, seated on her -brother's knee, with one arm around his neck, while her other hand is -sometimes clasped in his,—sometimes straying amid his dark luxuriant -hair. She is not exactly beautiful, but she is lovely. Her stature is -rather below than above the medium size; and fresh air and healthy -exercise have given elasticity to her limbs, and a bloom to her cheek, -that rivals the richness of the peach. If her features are not -regular, they defy criticism; for her whole face has such a glow of -love and happiness, that the delighted beholder cannot seek for -defects. Thus they all sat, enjoying the full tide of domestic -happiness; and each might have said to the other, with Galatee,</p> - -<table align="center" border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" summary="poem8"> - <tr><td><small>"Tu me demandais ton bonheur,<br> - Et c'etait moi que tu rendais heureuse."</small></td></tr> -</table> - -<p>Even the knowledge that Frederic was soon to leave them, to enter on -the duties of his vocation, could scarcely moderate their joy.</p> - -<p>He has now entered on his holy calling; and though far removed from -those who loved him so tenderly, nurtured him so carefully, governed -him so wisely, and made such personal sacrifices to fit him for -usefulness, they are happy still. Far from selfishly regretting that -at the moment he was fitted for action, and capable of making some -return for all their kindness, they are obliged to resign him -altogether,—in the benevolence of their hearts they rejoice that they -have been used as instruments to prepare him for a life of usefulness -in the world; and their most fervent prayer for him is, that he may -"turn many to righteousness," and then "shine as a star forever."</p> - -<p>Yes, the family at the Glen are happy still. The aged grandfather is -"waiting patiently his appointed time till his change come," with a -"hope full of immortality." The mother, patient, gentle, subdued, -serene, in fulfilling her quiet and unostentatious duties, is -carefully laying up treasure, where "neither moth nor rust corrupt nor -destroy." And the lovely Clara is the sunshine in the path of both. -She hushes the sighs,—wipes the tears,—soothes the pains, and -lightens the cares of each. Her voice is music to their ears; her -presence brings gladness to their hearts; and they both pronounce her -blessed.</p> - -<p>But you inquire,—is she who breathes such fragrance around, forever -to be immured in this sequestered valley? No—she will move in a wider -sphere; yet it is doubtful whether she elsewhere tastes such pure and -peaceful happiness as she has tasted here. She may find more luxuriant -roses, but then she must encounter the thorns; and what she may gain -in untried sources of happiness, will be counterbalanced by unknown -cares and sorrows. Yet she will, by and by, run the hazard: for her -brother's dearest college friend once begged an invitation to spend a -vacation at the Cottage; and when he left it, he left his heart behind -him. Clara could do no less than give her's in exchange; and so she -has promised, at some future day, to become his wife.</p> - -<p>And now, as I have finished my sketch, we will leave the valley.</p> - -<p>Do you further inquire what is the secret of their happiness? and -whether she who has been so eagerly sought through the wide world, has -chosen this for her favorite residence? I will give you the answer Mr. -Kirkwood gave to Clara, when she asked him a question of similar -import.</p> - -<p>"Happiness, my daughter, has, on earth, no local habitation. She <i>may</i> -dwell in the palace or in the cottage; with the rich, or with the -poor; with the learned, or with the ignorant. Her seat is in the -soul,—and its security does not depend on external circumstances. A -<i>peaceful conscience</i>, and a <i>humble</i>, <i>contented</i> heart, grateful for -blessings bestowed, and feeling no craving desire for those that are -withheld, are the pillars of her throne. But there are two classes of -persons that she will never deign to visit, be their rank or station -what it may. Neither the <i>idle</i> nor the <i>vicious</i> are ever happy."</p> -<div align="right">S. H. </div> -<br> -<br> -<hr align="center" width="100"><a name="sect06"></a> -<br> -<br> -<div align="right"><small>For the Southern Literary Messenger. </small></div> - -<h4>PICTURE OF OLD VIRGINIA.</h4> - -<table align="center" border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" summary="poem9"> - <tr><td><small>Look here upon this picture—and on this,<br> - The counterfeit presentment.—<i>Hamlet</i>.</small></td></tr> -</table> -<br><br> -<table align="center" border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" summary="poem10"> - <tr><td>Virginia had been beautiful<br> - And owned a lovely land;<br> - Her sons, who were so dutiful,<br> - Went with her heart and hand;<br> - They raised her to the highest seat,<br> - By talents and by worth,<br> - And sent her name in accents sweet,<br> - Far ringing through the earth.<br><br> - But lately she had fallen off;<br> - Her beauty was impair'd;<br> - Her younger sons were heard to scoff—<br> - <i>They</i> might at least have spared.<br> - 'Twas said that she was growing blind,<br> - Was lazy and supine,<br> - And that she weakly lagged behind<br> - Her sisters, grown divine.<br><br> - That all her days were spent, forsooth,<br> - In one eternal chime<br> - About her deeds of early youth—<br> - "Resolves" of former time.<br> - Naught could be said and nothing told<br> - But she more devils spied;<br> - "<i>More devils than vast hell could hold</i>—"<br> - Or all the world beside.<br><br> - And strangers<small><small><sup>1</sup></small></small> did her land deride—<br> - With wagging tongue, reviled;<br> - Wild beasts, they said, had multiplied<br> - In that most barren wild;<br> - Her houses were untenanted—<br> - The fox<small><small><sup>2</sup></small></small> had <i>manned</i> her walls;<br> - And "<i>rank grass</i>" waved around his head,<br> - As in old Ossian's halls!<br><br> - Her moral strength and physical,<small><small><sup>3</sup></small></small><br> - Aye, both of them were gone,<br> - And every man seem'd phthisical,<br> - Or like to tumble down;<br> - Her talents all were buried deep,<br> - Or in some napkin hid,<br> - Or with the mighty dead, did sleep<br> - Beneath the coffin lid.<br><br> - But far! oh far beyond all these,<br> - She had displeased her God;<br> - <i>Inter dolosos cineres</i>,<br> - She on volcano trod;<br> - She could not get o' nights her rest;<br> - At midnight bell for fire,<br> - She hugged her infants to her breast,<br> - Prepared for fun'ral pyre.<br><br> - Virginia roused herself one day<br> - And took her picture down;<br> - And as she gazed, was heard to say—<br> - Am I thus hideous grown?<br> - And am I stupid—lazy—blind—<br> - A monomaniac too!<br> - Relaxed in body and in mind?<br> - Oh no! it is not true.<br><br> - There lies outstretched my glorious land,<br> - With her capacious bay;<br> - My rivers rush on every hand,<br> - With sail and pennon gay;<br> - My mountains, like a girdle blue,<br> - Adorn her lovely waist,<br> - "<i>And lend enchantment to the view</i>,"<br> - As in "<i>the distance</i>" traced.<br><br> - I'll hie me straight to Richmond town,<br> - And call my liege men there;<br> - And they shall write these libels down,<br> - Or fill me with despair.<br> - I have a friend, who'll make some stir,<br> - And take my work in hand;<br> - I'll send him forth my "M<small>ESSENGER</small>"—<br> - To "<i>spy out all the land</i>."<small><small><sup>4</sup></small></small><br><br> - That Messenger went gaily forth<br> - Throughout her old domain,<br> - And there found many men of worth<br> - Would snatch their pens again;<br> - And since their mothers' blood was up—<br> - To cast her odium by,<br> - Would shed—of ink—their latest drop<br> - T' inscribe her name on high.<br><br> - The land which he went out to sift,<br> - <i>No milk and honey floods</i>—<br> - <i>It takes not two her grapes to lift</i>—<small><small><sup>5</sup></small></small><br> - But grapes festoon her woods.<br> - No want of food, for beast or man,<br> - There met his eager gaze;<br> - Find better bacon!—greens!—who can?<br> - Or finer fields of maize!<small><small><sup>6</sup></small></small><br><br> - Her Tuckahoes 'tis true, are slim,<br> - And of a bilious hue;<br> - But then he found the Anakim<br> - Beyond the mountains blue:<br> - Some men he found in safety chains—<br> - All crossed upon the breast—<br> - <i>They</i> seem'd indeed to have no brains:<br> - But these all lands infest.<br><br> - The women look'd so passing fair,<br> - How shall their charms be told?<br> - By their Iachimo's<small><small><sup>7</sup></small></small> they were<br> - Like brilliants set in gold.<br> - Of such <i>pure water</i> was each maid;<br> - So sparkling unto view—<br> - No wonder that it should be said<br> - They never could turn <i>blue</i>.<br><br> - No foxes here, peep'd windows through;<br> - But oft at early morn<br> - They're seen to brush the glittering dew,<br> - Pursued by hounds and horn:<br> - Her "<i>hounds are of the Spartan breed</i>"—<br> - "<i>So sanded and so flew'd</i>,"—<br> - All "<i>dewlap'd</i>" <i>they, and all</i> "<i>crook-kneed</i>"—<br> - As Cadmus e'er halloo'd.<br><br> - In short, all zealots are run mad<br> - T' abuse this pleasing sod;<br> - Where people sleep as sound, egad,<br> - As in the land of Nod:<br> - What! colonize old coachman Dick!<br> - My foster brother Nat!<br> - My more than mother, when I'm sick!<br> - "<i>Come, Hal, no more of that.</i>"</td></tr> -</table> -<div align="right"><small>NUGATOR</small>. </div> - -<blockquote><small><small><sup>1</sup></small> See Col. Benton's description of Virginia, done into -verse, beginning thus:</small></blockquote> - -<table align="center" border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" summary="poem11"> - <tr><td><small>"As Benton jogg'd along the road,<br> - 'Twas in the Old Dominion,<br> - His thoughts were <i>bent-on</i> finding food,<br> - For preconceiv'd opinion," &c.</small></td></tr> -</table> - -<blockquote><small><small><sup>2</sup></small> "The fox peeped out of the window, and the rank grass -waved around his head. Desolate is the dwelling of Moina—Silence is -in the house of her fathers."—<i>Ossian</i>.</small></blockquote> - -<blockquote><small><small><sup>3</sup></small></small></blockquote> - -<table align="center" border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" summary="poem12"> - <tr><td><small>Man's strength is gone, his courage—zooks!<br> - And liberty's fine motions, &c.—<i>Benton</i>.</small></td></tr> -</table> - -<blockquote><small><small><sup>4</sup></small> And Moses sent them to spy out -the land of Canaan.</small></blockquote> - -<blockquote><small><small><sup>5</sup></small> And they came unto the brook of Eshcol and cut down from -thence a branch with one cluster of grapes, and they bare it between -two upon a staff, ... and they told him, and said we came unto the -land whither thou sentest us and surely it floweth with milk and -honey, and this is the fruit of it.</small></blockquote> - -<blockquote><small><small><sup>6</sup></small></small></blockquote> - -<table align="center" border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" summary="poem13"> - <tr><td><small>In old Virginia stint of food<br> - Diseases have engender'd—<br> - The mind is gone—to want of blood<br> - Good morals have surrender'd.<br><br> - Houses are fallen—fences down—<br> - And men are now much scarcer—<br> - Wild beasts in multitudes are known,<br> - That every day get fiercer.<br><br> - Flee gravel—grit—and heartless clay—<br> - Nor corn nor oats will grow there—<br> - To westward hie—away—away!<br> - No heartless Clay you'll know there.—<i>Benton</i>.</small></td></tr> -</table> - -<blockquote><small><small><sup>7</sup></small> The yellow iachimo.—<i>Shakspeare</i>. -[Cymbeline.]</small></blockquote> -<br> -<br> -<hr align="center" width="100"><a name="sect07"></a> -<br> -<br> -<div align="right"><small>For the Southern Literary Messenger. </small></div> - -<h4>A LEAF FROM THE JOURNAL OF A YOUNG AMERICAN TOURIST IN ITALY.</h4> -<br> -<p>The "sable goddess" had been seated for some time upon her "ebon -throne," when we passed through the ponderous gate and rattled along -the principal street of Genoa the Proud. It was a beautiful night. The -firmament was studded with sparkling gems, and the silver queen rode -steadily in the heavens, diffusing that pure and hallowed illumination -which prompted the ancients to worship her as the goddess of chastity, -and uninterrupted by any of those envious clouds whose intervention -between her face and the earth furnishes poets with so favorite a -figure to express the idea of virtue obscured and oppressed with -misfortune. It was not, however, a night in which "creation -sleeps,"—or, to use the pompous phrase of Racine, in which "tout -dort, et les vents et Neptune,"—for the wind was tempestuously high, -and the waves evinced all their usual restlessness at being roughly -visited by the subjects of old Æolus. As we whirled along, nothing -like an animated being was to be seen; not even a mouse was stirring; -and the rush and whistling of the wind through the street, seemed to -bring out the solemn stillness which otherwise prevailed, into the -strongest relief. How we strained our eyes to catch glimpses of the -glorious palaces which have so filled the trump of fame, and to which -the city is indebted for her magnificent title! And how impressive, -how imposing was their appearance in the partial development and -mellowed effect of their splendor, afforded by the beams of the moon! -The whole street was one consecutive, uninterrupted row of princely -buildings,—and exquisite indeed was the effect of light and shade -there exhibited—"leaving that lovely which was so, and making that -which was not."</p> - -<p>We had given directions to be taken to the Hotel of the Cross of -Malta—<i>L'Albergo della Croce di Malta</i>, and when the carriage -stopped, we got out with the expectation of being at our destined -domicil. No sign, however, of a hotel was visible, and one of our -party began to make an accompaniment to the noise of the wind by -storming a little at the postillions for not obeying his orders,—when -the courier informed us that we were as near as the vehicle could get -to the house, as it was located in a street hard by, too narrow for -any but pedestrians. This position of one of the principal hotels of a -city denominated <i>la superba</i>, appeared singular enough, and with our -ideas of its superbness somewhat diminished, we followed the man a -short distance up a lane in which two persons could scarcely walk -abreast, until we reached the door of the establishment, whose aspect -was not particularly inviting, in despite of its towering altitude. -Our fears, however, as to the manner in which we might be -accommodated, or rather unaccommodated, were soon put to rest, when we -mounted the spacious stairway, and were ushered into a suite of -apartments which to the simplicity of an American, republican eye, -wore an air of absolute magnificence.</p> - -<p>What a difference there was between the first aspect of things in this -our Hotel of the Cross of Malta, and that which is presented in the -places of entertainment for man and horse in the United States. -Instead of being ushered into a bar-room filled with the fumes of -whiskey and tobacco, crowded with boots to be blackened, decorated -with "tintanabulent appendages" innumerable, and affording palpable -evidence in every way that the establishment is as much entitled to -the motto, "e pluribus unum," as the government of the country itself, -we were received at the portal by a single domestic and conducted to -our rooms without seeing or hearing the slightest indication that any -other "mortal mixture of earth's mould" besides ourselves, was in the -house. And then the difference in the appearance of the apartments! -The recollection of the closets or pigeon holes, styled chambers by -the courtesy of our mother tongue, so limited in their dimensions, -that like the cell of the poor Hibernian, in which he "did nothing but -walk up and down," you cannot "stand in them at all," furnished with a -bed, a wash-stand, two chairs, and a looking glass, in which you may -see one moiety of your face at a time, if you exert yourself with -sufficient industry, did not certainly excite any very lively regrets, -as we gazed on the spacious apartments glittering with mirrors, the -walls and ceiling frescoed and gilded <i>ad unguem</i>, mantles supported -by sculptured goddesses, chairs and lounges covered with damask, and -beds so richly curtained and attired, that it seemed as if one could -scarcely sleep in them, for thinking of the luxury in which he was -reposing. The hotel was formerly a palace, whose glories, in part, it -still retains. Yet, to tell the truth and shame a certain nameless -gentleman, before my head had been long laid upon the pillow, I would -willingly have exchanged the grandeur and the spaciousness of the room -in which I was courting the sweet restorer of tired nature, for the -plainness and contractedness of any of the closets to which I have -alluded. Verily I paid for my magnificence. Never did I suffer from -cold as on that night—the very exercise which I took in shaking and -shivering ought to have induced perspiration, but in spite of a -respectable quantity of bed-clothes, with the addition of all my -habiliments piled on top of them, I could not make myself warm enough -to allow the god of sleep to exercise his balmy influence upon my eyes -for an instant. Italian dwellings, unfortunately, as I thought then, -are constructed much more in reference to the weather of the torrid -than of the frigid zone. Every method is devised of letting in as much -of the coolness of the external atmosphere as possible, and of -adapting the materials of the apartments to the nullification of all -caloric; and the one in which I was quaking, was in no way an -exception to the prevalent custom. The marble floors and unpapered -walls, notwithstanding the warmth of the colors with which the latter -were filled, created a resistless disposition to chilliness in -themselves; the wind came pouring through several windows, reaching -almost from the ceilings to the floor, whose looseness provided it -with abundant facility for ingress; no fire-place offered its aid for -combating the power of the blusterer; and the bed in which I lay, -curled up into a heap, to prevent the "genial current" from entirely -freezing, was of amplitude commensurate with the dimensions of the -chamber. Napoleon, with his whole staff, might have been accommodated -in it, when he visited Genoa. Whenever I attempted to make a change of -position, I might as well have fallen into an ice-house. What joy when -the morning's light dawned upon my eyes! Never did I observe the maxim -with regard to early rising with so much good-will, as when I left the -inhospitable couch, determined not to entrust myself to it again. By -the time I had dressed I was as near congelation as I well could be; -the only thing that kept my blood in circulation was the prospect of -an exhilirating fire in the sitting-room, and there I steered with all -possible speed; but alas, for human expectations! On opening the door -my optics were immediately filled with smoke, and as they are not of -that "nice" character which are requisite "to see what is not to be -seen," I could discern nothing like a blaze. The badly constructed -hearth manifested the most invincible repugnance to permit the wood to -ignite, but kindly enabled us to obtain all the warmth we could from -fumigation. I confess I became somewhat dispirited. One of my motives -in coming to Italy was to escape the cold of the winter at home, and -here on my very entrance into its mild and genial atmosphere, as it is -always called, had I suffered more chattering of the teeth than I ever -did before for the same length of time. This may be an escape thought -I, but if it is, it is one amazingly like that of Lieutenant -O'Shangnessy, who <i>escaped</i> from the field of battle into the ranks of -the enemy.</p> -<div align="right">W. </div> -<br> -<br> -<hr align="center" width="100"><a name="sect08"></a> -<br> -<br> -<h4>NEW ENGLAND.</h4> - -<blockquote><small>The place from which the following letter is indited, can be forgotten -by no one that has ever seen it. A fine view of <i>Northampton</i> may be -had from the top of the <i>Mansion House</i>, where the visiter commonly -abides; but whoever ascends <i>Mount Holyoke</i>, is rewarded for his -pains, with a prospect of surpassing beauty. In <i>Virginia</i>, we may -have from our summits, a view of mountains on the one hand, and on the -other a country comparatively level, with occasional spots of -cultivation; but there is seldom any greater variety. Nothing else is -afforded by the <i>Peaks of Otter</i>. <i>Mount Holyoke</i>, furnishes a -combination of beauties. The spectator beholds mountains and lowland; -a country wild and rugged in one direction and in the highest state of -cultivation in another. He has before him the lovely village of -<i>Northampton</i>, with others not far distant. And the <i>Connecticut</i>, is -seen winding its way, amongst its fertile meadows, in so circuitous -and yet so regular a manner, as to make the country on its banks -resemble a beautiful parterre. The water prospect gives to the scene -its chief source of interest. <i>Mount Holyoke</i>, rises not so high as -<i>Catskill;</i> nor is the <i>Connecticut</i> so distant from it, as the -<i>Hudson</i> from the latter. And it is owing to this, that the water -view, is finer from its summit, than from the <i>Pine Orchard</i>. The -distance is sufficient to "lend enchantment to the view"—not so great -as to prevent a spectator from seeing any beautiful object that a -nearer view would embrace, with all the distinctness that is -desirable. A Virginian, who has high authority for supposing that a -visit to <i>Harper's Ferry</i> is worth a trip across the Atlantic, may ask -if <i>Mount Holyoke</i> surpasses this famous <i>Virginia</i> scene. State pride -must yield to candor, and acknowledge that it does. The prospect from -what is called the <i>Eagle Rock</i>, two miles distant from Harper's Ferry -on the Loudoun side, is certainly very fine, and calculated to remove -in some degree that disappointment, which one who has read Mr. -<i>Jefferson's</i> description is apt to feel, when the scene from the -<i>Jefferson Rock</i> is first beheld by him. But the view of the streams -at Harper's Ferry, beheld from any point, cannot compare in beauty -with the Connecticut at Northampton. And, in other respects, Harper's -Ferry must yield to Mount Holyoke. It will not do to put the workshops -of the former against the beautiful villages seen from the latter. -Harper's Ferry cannot in any way obtain pre-eminence, until the -spectator becomes conscious of the justness of <i>Mr. Jefferson's</i> -opinion as to the mode in which the water first passed through the -Blue Ridge. And, to be able to acknowledge the correctness of that -opinion, must be a work of some difficulty after looking at the -<i>Potomac</i> and <i>Shenandoah</i>, and seeing how small a power is produced -by the two streams combined.</small></blockquote> - -<blockquote><small>The author of the letter, in speaking of the ladies of <i>New England</i>, -repudiates what he terms a leading argument for slavery. The -individual who is led by a perusal of the letter to make the following -remarks, is certainly not an advocate of slavery; but his own -observation, has brought him to some conclusions, from which he -inclines to think, the intelligent gentleman by whom that letter was -written, will scarcely dissent. Whoever has travelled in a stage or -steamboat in Virginia, and travelled also in stages and steamboats in -the non-slave-holding states, must have perceived that more deference -and respect are shown towards female travellers with us, than in the -northern and eastern states. In a southern steamboat, men will not be -seen scrambling for seats at table, before the ladies are provided -with places; and, in a southern stage, a female traveller will always -be offered that seat which it is supposed she would prefer. If more -consideration be shown for female travellers, in the slave-holding -than in the non-slave-holding states,—the next inquiry is, whether -slavery be the cause of the difference. It may be admitted, that in -the southern states, the men who travel are for the most part -gentlemen; while to the north, a large proportion of those who are -perpetually moving about, are persons who have never been accustomed -to any good society, and have very little idea of good breeding. -Again—it may be admitted, that our steamboats are generally less -crowded, and there is consequently less inducement to be guilty of -that indelicacy, which is so often seen in a northern boat. Do these -facts explain the cause of the difference above alluded to? They do -not. For we find to the south, that a theatre, or a place for the -delivery of a public speech, may be filled by citizens, without any -distinction of persons; and yet respectable females coming to a place -thus crowded, would be treated with more consideration than would be -shown towards them at the north under similar circumstances. There -must be some other cause for the difference; and slavery is in a great -degree that cause. To the north, in consequence of the absence of -slavery, many females, even in respected ranks of life, perform duties -which here would devolve upon our slaves. Nor do the duties which they -perform consist merely of unseen employments within doors. A very -large proportion of the sex engage in the business of buying and -selling, and travel about unattended. Thus embarking in what with us -would be regarded as the proper offices of men, the consequence is -that they are treated with not more respect than is shown towards men. -This remark is applicable, as before stated, to a large proportion—to -so large a proportion, that the general rule of deference towards the -sex, which prevails to the south—can scarcely be said to prevail, in -the northern states; but those by whom, and to whom that deference is -there shown, are rather to be regarded as exceptions. A gentleman to -the north, will treat one whom he <i>knows</i> to be a lady, with courtesy -and respect. To the south, this previous information, is not so -indispensable. We act upon a general presumption in favor of the sex. -A female with us, is treated with courtesy and respect, unless -something be known as to her character, or be apparent in her conduct, -which justifies the conclusion that she is not entitled to be so -treated.</small></blockquote> -<div align="right"><small>C.</small> </div> -<br> -<div align="right"><small>From the Fredericksburg Arena. </small></div> - -<h4>LETTERS FROM NEW ENGLAND.—NO. 1.</h4> - -<h5>BY A VIRGINIAN.</h5> -<br> -<div align="right"><i>Northampton, Mass. July 24, 1834.</i> </div> - -<blockquote>And you will positively "excommunicate" me if I do not send you "some -<i>first impressions</i>" of Yankee-land? Have at you then; though, really, -my time has been so filled with seeing and hearing, that hardly a -scrap remains to write down a hundredth part of the curious or -striking things that meet my eyes and ears.</blockquote> - -<blockquote>Unusual opportunity has been afforded me for seeing various lights and -shades of Yankee character. In stage and steamboat, in jersey wagon -and on foot, on highways and by-ways, in farm houses and city palaces, -I have seen and chatted with all sorts of people, from the —— of the -—— down to the tavern porter and the country laborer. Five days I -have spent in a pedestrian stroll, calling often at the country houses -to get a draught of water, rest myself, and talk with the farmer or -his wife. These gossipings, you may well suppose commonly produced -amusement and frequently solid information, at least solid materials -for reflection; and, considering that it is only a little more than -three weeks since my entry into New England, methinks I have a pretty -exact measure of Jonathan's foot. Yet for all this preface, do not -expect any very astounding revelations. From the thousand incidents -that, unitedly, make my tour extremely interesting to myself, it is -not certain that any one, or any dozen can be selected, which will -materially interest another person.</blockquote> - -<blockquote>In the <i>visible</i> face of Massachusetts and Connecticut, the features -which, by their novelty or beauty, most strike a Virginian eye, are -the small farms, usually of from fifty to two hundred acres; the small -fields in proportion, there being sometimes fifteen or twenty in one -farm; the stone fences, rendered necessary and numerous in many places -by scarcity of timber, and by the troublesome superabundance of stone; -the universality of <i>hay</i> crops, on hills as well as in meadows; the -almost entire absence of wheat, (the only grains generally cultivated -being corn, rye and oats,) the clustering of habitations together in -villages, instead of having them dispersed at intervals of a mile over -the country; the white painted village churches, all with stately -spires, visible for miles around, having gilt vanes, and clocks of -hands so large and stroke so loud, that I have repeatedly seen and -heard the hour half a mile off.—The country is more hilly, or -<i>rolling</i>, as our farmers would say, than the lower half of Virginia; -and the hills have, generally, a smaller base and a more gracefully -swelling, dome-like top, than our hills. These rotundities, with their -concomitant hollows, traversed by numberless stone fences, with here -and there patches of woodland and detached white farm houses, half -imbosomed in elms and fruit trees; while, perhaps, two or three -villages, with steeples piercing the sky, are at once within the view, -exhibit everywhere landscapes of a beauty unknown to eastern, or -indeed, to western Virginia. Here is not a hundredth part of the -appearance of abject, squalid poverty, that our state presents. I have -not seen a log house in New England; and nine-tenths of the ordinary -farm houses are painted. Brick and stone buildings are not common, -except in the cities. This village, the most lovely to the eye in all -the north, and Worcester, (take care to call it <i>Wooster</i>) having -respectively, 3000 and 4 or 5000 inhabitants, contain, both together, -hardly more than one hundred and fifty brick and stone houses.</blockquote> - -<blockquote>But the <i>morale</i> of New England, the character of her people, their -tone of thought and feeling upon some important subjects, their social -and political institutions, regulations, and usages, have interested -me far more than her physical lineaments.</blockquote> - -<blockquote>Would that time and space were mine to explain the road, pauper, and -school systems of Massachusetts and Connecticut. (They and Rhode -Island are the only states of New England which I have visited.) But -that would require too much detail. Their felicitous organization may -be inferred from their effects.</blockquote> - -<blockquote>The common roads are all, or nearly all, <i>ridged up</i>, turnpike -fashion, and fully as good as our turnpikes. I do not mean such as a -certain one not far from ——, which the traveller knows to be a -turnpike only by the tolls and the jolts, but those in the valley, and -near Richmond.</blockquote> - -<blockquote>There is probably not a beggar by trade (except solicitors for pious -charities and subscriptions) in New England. The needy are sent to a -poor house, having a farm attached to it, on which they work for the -parish, or are let to the lowest bidder for their maintenance, as the -people of each township choose. In different townships (or <i>towns</i>, as -the provincial dialect hath it,) the number of paupers greatly varies. -I have been told of five, ten, twenty, and even thirty, or more, upon -the list; and, as there are many "towns" in a county, perhaps the -number of such pensioners here, equals ours. But mark! the expense -here is next to nothing—sometimes absolutely nothing: nay, some -"towns" actually derive a revenue from the labors of their parish -poor. Salem has thus gained several thousand dollars in a year. All -who are able render a fair equivalent, sometimes more, for the relief -they receive.</blockquote> - -<blockquote>Every person in this state, above four years of age, is entitled to -instruction, at the charge of the "town," in the useful common -branches of knowledge; and a man or woman who cannot read, is here a -prodigy.—Nine-tenths, at least, of the whole population take, or read -newspapers. (In Virginia not more than half the white population does -so.) Here seems to be not a fourth of the tippling that we have; -gambling is even far more rare: there is not a race course in New -England; and, considering the density of the population, (eighty to -the square mile, ours is only nineteen,) I do not believe there is a -fourth so much vice and crime as with us. In moral science, and not -least in that branch of it which investigates the texture of a -people's character, it is hard to ascertain causes and effects with -precision.—What was <i>effect</i>, by a sort of reaction frequently -becomes <i>cause;</i> they give each other reciprocal impulses, like the -mutual aid of parent and offspring; sometimes various causes mingle -their operations, in unseen, perhaps invisible degrees,—and there is -no laboratory, no apparatus for resolving the inscrutable compound -into its elements. The moral chemist should, therefore, diffidently -ascribe the order, industry, sobriety, thriftiness, and intelligence, -which characterise these people, to any one cause, or to any set of -causes. But general consent, and the reason of the case, leave little -doubt that much, if not most of these virtues, must be attributed to -the system of <small>COMMON SCHOOLS</small>. Yet it may be questioned if, in -producing social good, the school system has not in these states a -<i>co-efficient</i>, of equal or superior influence. The road and poor -systems—nay, the school system itself, it seems to me, owe nearly all -their virtues to the <small>TOWNSHIP SYSTEM</small>.</blockquote> - -<blockquote>Each county is subdivided into districts, of no uniform shape or size, -though usually four, five, or six miles long and broad. By an -impropriety, too fast rooted ever to be eradicated, these are called -<i>towns;</i> which word is never understood here in its English sense, as -opposed to <i>country</i>, and meaning an assemblage of houses, but always -as signifying one of the <i>districts</i> I have mentioned. Protesting -against its lawfulness, I shall yet use it now in the New England -sense. Each town is a sort of republic. Its people, in full town -meeting, elect a representative, or representatives, in the -legislature, <i>selectmen</i>, (nearly equivalent to common-council-men) -assessor, and collector; decide how the poor shall be kept, schools -organized, or roads altered or repaired, and what amount shall be -raised by taxes for these and other purposes. A town meeting is held -statedly, in the spring, for elections; and two or three others, -whenever ten voters request it of the selectmen, in writing. At -deliberative meetings, a chairman (here called "Moderator,") is chosen -by the assembly; great decorum prevails, and earnest debates arise. -The town, as a corporate person, is liable for any damage sustained -through neglect to keep a road in repair; and damages have frequently -been recovered. It is obliged by law, to support schools enough to -educate all its children in the manner prescribed. It is bound to -maintain its own poor. And the near interest, the direct agency which -every citizen has in the performance of these duties, cause them to be -attended to with an exactness and an efficacy which a government less -<i>local</i>, never would attain. This is the very system which it was the -leading wish of Mr. Jefferson's life to see established in -Virginia.<small><small><sup>1</sup></small></small> No one can see its admirable effects without owning that -wish to have been one of the wisest which his wise and patriotic mind -ever cherished. Such an organization is not only a nursery of -statesmen,—it diffuses among the multitude habits of reflection and -of action about public affairs,—makes them feel often and sensibly, -the dignity of self-government,—and fits them better and better for -the exalted task. It is, morally, what a <i>well disciplined</i> militia -would be physically. Not the wretched militia that, by our own -disgraceful neglect, has now become our own scorn, but that which our -forefathers recommended to us as a main "bulwark of our liberties," -and "the best defence of a free state."</blockquote> - -<blockquote><small><small><sup>1</sup></small> See his letters to Kercheval, in 1816.</small></blockquote> - -<blockquote><i>All the direct taxes in this state are laid by the towns.</i> The state -government is maintained entirely by the interest on some accumulated -funds, and by a tax of half of one per cent. on the capital of the -state banks. By the by, there are at least one hundred of these in -Massachusetts, having a capital altogether, as is computed, of about -thirty millions! And this for a state of 7,800 square miles, and -640,000 people. Verily "<i>incedit per ignes suppositos cineri doloso:</i>" -or, in English, "she <i>sits</i> upon a mine of gunpowder." Perhaps sailing -through the air in a car buoyed by bubbles, might be as apt an -illustration.</blockquote> - -<blockquote>The <i>common</i> schools (so those supported by taxation are called) are -not the only ones, for even elementary instruction. Many wealthy -persons, unfortunately for the public weal, prefer sending their -children to teachers of their own employing: and thus numerous private -schools of various grades, and some of these of great merit, are -planted over the state. <i>Unfortunately</i> I say, because such persons -are often those whose <i>interested</i> countenance and supervision are -most essential to the good management of the <i>common</i> schools,—which, -deprived of them, lose half their usefulness. Female education is well -attended to. Good schools for females, (reputedly so, I have not -entered one of them) seem much more numerous than with us, allowing -duly for population. And a judgment of the trees by their fruits, -would confirm that belief; for in my casual and diversified -intercourse, I have met, I think, with a larger proportion of well -taught women than would occur in a similar range through our own -society. Yet such a comparison is very fallacious, and perhaps not -worth making. Of one thing I am satisfied, by personal observation; -that the additional work rendered necessary to ladies in New England, -by the imperfect and unservant-like "help" which they hire, is not at -all incompatible with refined delicacy of mind, manners, and person. -That it <i>is</i> so, however, is a leading argument with some of our -<i>philosophers</i> for slavery. If memory served me, I would quote for -their benefit, a caustic passage from the "Three Wise Men of Gotham," -to the effect that "a <i>genuine philosopher</i> is never at a loss for -<i>facts</i> to support any theory, however absurd or ridiculous. Having -constructed <i>that</i> according to the most approved principles, and upon -the most ingenious plan, he goes to work, and either <i>makes</i> all the -facts needful to uphold it, or distorts actual facts to suit his -purpose."</blockquote> - -<blockquote>It has been my good fortune to meet with some admirable female minds -in New England. Since the spells of romance were shaken from me, I -have never hoped to see more happily exemplified, that trait of a -capital heroine of our favorite Miss Edgeworth: "you could discover -that the stream of literature had passed over her mind, only by the -verdure and fertility you saw there." (I mar the quotation, doubtless, -but that is its substance.) No pedantic harping upon books, and -authors, and sciences; some cross-examination would be requisite, to -find out that she knew their names. But let a subject be tabled, -calling for ideas, or for exertions of intellect, to which a -conversancy with books, authors and sciences was indispensable—and -you might see that she knew them well. Then too she knew much that -they—but for fear you should think I am about to fall in love, (which -however is impossible,) I will suppress the rest of my encomium.</blockquote> - -<blockquote><i>Abolition</i>, if not dead here, is in a state too desperately feeble to -give us an hour's uneasiness. Of the many intelligent men with whom I -have conversed on this subject in Massachusetts, Rhode Island and -Connecticut, there is but a single one who does not reprobate the -views of Messrs. Tappan, Cox, Garrison and Co. as suggestions of the -wildest, most pernicious fanaticism. Tappan has two brothers in -Boston, both ardent colonizationists, and decidedly opposed to his mad -notions. Not only do the persons I have talked with, themselves -reprobate interference with that painfully delicate and peculiar -concern of the south: they testify to the almost entire unanimity of -their acquaintance, in the same sentiment. And such multiplied and -decisive proofs have I, of the sound state of the public mind on that -subject, as leave me not a doubt, that nine-tenths of the votes, and -ninety-nine hundredths of the intellect of the country, are for -<i>letting us wholly alone</i>. You have little idea of the contempt in -which Garrison, and his will-o'-the-wisp, the <i>Liberator</i>, are held -here. I have heard him spoken of as a "miserable fanatic," and "a -contemptible poor creature," in companies so numerous and mixed, as to -demonstrate—none gainsaying it—that the speakers but expressed the -public thought. "There is in this, as in other communities," said a -Cambridge Professor to me, "always afloat a certain quantity of moral -<i>virus</i>, or noxious <i>gas</i>, ever and anon imbodying itself in some such -form as this, of abolitionism. Not long ago, it was anti-masonry. In -two years, abolitionism will be as prostrate as anti-masonry is now. -It may, meanwhile, spread fast and boldly: it may create disturbances -and alarms: it may prevail so far, in some districts, as to have -representatives in Congress, who will there bring forward some scheme -of emancipation: but triumph finally, or even extensively, in the -north, <i>it never can</i>." And all that I saw, or heard, convinced me -that Mr. G—— was not widely mistaken.</blockquote> - -<blockquote>At Worcester, last year, an apostle of abolition from "some where away -down east," delivered a lecture, in the Baptist Church, against -slavery; depicting its wrongs and evils, and insisting upon its -extirpation. He was heard patiently; but when he closed, the pastor of -the church arose, and, to the satisfaction of a numerous audience, -completely answered every argument; vindicated the southern -slaveholders from all wilful injustice in being such; shewed the -impracticability of any but the most cautiously gradual emancipation, -and the madness of attempting even that, by officious intermeddling -from the non-slaveholding states. Our apostle wanted to lecture again -the next day; but the excitement against his doctrine had grown so -strong, that he was refused a further hearing, and admonished, by some -of the leading citizens, that if he remained longer, he was in danger -of tar and feathers. Among the warmest of his reprobators, were the -late and the present governors; both residing there. He wisely -decamped; and has had no successor in Worcester. The manner in which -the New York riots have been spoken of in New England, strikingly -shews the bad odor of abolition here. Instead of the leaning towards -that side, which I feared would result from sympathy and indignation -at its being made the object of a mob's fury, the abolitionists seem -to be regarded by the majority as most chargeable themselves, with all -the mischief that has been done. It is the common sentiment, that they -deserved the treatment they received; and the censure thrown upon the -mob is very <i>gentle roaring</i> indeed. I find almost every New Englander -readily assenting to the positions,—That two millions of slaves could -never be turned loose amongst us and live, while <i>we</i> lived: that the -existence of the two <i>castes</i> in the same country, in a state of -freedom and equality, is morally impossible: that emancipation, -without removal, therefore, is utterly chimerical: that, unjustifiable -as slavery is in the abstract, rights of property in slaves have been -acquired, which, sanctioned as they are by the constitution, and by a -claim prior and paramount to the constitution, cannot be violated -without an outrage, destructive at once of our social compact: that, -let slavery be ever so wrong, abolition ever so just and easy, it is a -matter which concerns <i>us alone;</i> and as to which, we are so -sensitively jealous of extraneous interposition, that every agitation -of the subject in other states is calculated to weaken our attachment -to them, and bind faster the chains of slavery.</blockquote> - -<blockquote>In a word, the south may be assured, that on this point, New England -is sound: at least the three states which I have visited. Colonization -is popular here—with those, I mean, who know or reflect at all about -it. The majority (like the majority with us,) are without either -knowledge or thought on the subject. The abolitionists find fault with -colonization, because, say they, its aim is to postpone or prevent -emancipation. Our southern <i>illuminati</i> oppose it, on the ground that -it <i>favors</i> emancipation! Do not these inconsistent objections -neutralize each other, like opposite quantities in Algebra, or -opposite simples in Chemistry?</blockquote> -<br> -<br> -<hr align="center" width="100"><a name="sect09"></a> -<br> -<br> -<h4>N. P. WILLIS.</h4> - -<blockquote><small>We extract the subjoined article from the <i>Norfolk Beacon</i>, believing -that it will be both new and interesting to most of our readers. That -paper has recently passed into the hands of Mr. Hugh Blair Grigsby, a -gentleman of fine education and literary taste; and as he has declared -himself a neutral in politics, we have a right to expect that the -Beacon will be frequently rich in other matter interesting to the -general reader. The eulogy upon Willis, or rather his vindication from -those ill natured aspersions, which are always cast upon aspiring -genius,—is honorable to the feelings of early friendship which -dictated it. We have suppressed one or two passages near the -commencement of the article, having reason to believe that Mr. Grigsby -would not have written them if the circumstance to which he alludes -had been better understood. That Willis is a man of genius and an -admirable writer both in prose and verse, will not be questioned we -think by a large majority of those who are at all familiar with his -productions. There are some it is true, who affect a sneer at his -pretensions,—and there are others doubtless, who without affectation, -do not admire him. The world is infinitely diversified; and there is -nothing in which diversity is more strongly exemplified, than in -matters of taste. Shakspeare, Milton, Pope, Byron,—nay, almost all -the illustrious votaries of the <small>NINE</small>, have occasionally had their -revilers,—and it would perhaps be rather an unfavorable indication -for any writer, that his works had never been censured or criticised. -The unfavorable opinions formed of Willis's reputation, as deduced -from his habitual idleness at college—his repugnance to mathematical -studies—or his eccentricities either in dress or behaviour—seem to -us to rest upon very unphilosophical grounds. What if the merits of -the immortal bard of Avon, were to be tested by his diligence in the -early acquisition of knowledge! Even Lord Byron was not remarkable -either for industry or attainments whilst at school. As to the -mathematics,—we dare say that the more bigoted disciples of Euclid -and Hutton, would deem it evidence of bad taste, not to be inspired by -the beauties and mysteries of the triangle and cone;—but what would -they think of the learned and eloquent Gibbon, of whom it is said that -so great was his disgust or inaptitude for their favorite science, -that he could scarcely be brought to comprehend or demonstrate the -three first propositions in Euclid. The truth is, there is an ethereal -quality in genius, which disdains to be trammelled by the rules and -systems of human invention. That it is so, is perhaps -unfortunate,—yet the fact itself cannot be controverted. We commend -Mr. Grigsby's article to our readers, not only because it is well -written, but because also it is the testimony of a fellow student in -favor of a writer who, whatever be his merits or demerits, has -acquired acknowledged distinction in the literary world.</small></blockquote> -<br> - -<p>"Few men of his age have passed through so fiery an ordeal, and come -out of the flame with greater purity, than N. P. W<small>ILLIS</small>. It is indeed -without a parallel in literature, that a young man of unblemished -virtue, of accomplished genius, and of a good heart, should be sought -out and hunted down with such an implacable spirit of vengeance.</p> - -<center>* -* -* -* *</center> - -<p>"To those who knew Willis in his early days, it was evident that he -would become, what Edmund Burke said of Townshend, 'a first rate -figure in the country.' The first notice that the public had of his -budding genius was a little poem in six verses, the two first lines of -the first verse being</p> - -<table align="center" border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" summary="poem14"> - <tr><td><small>The leaf floats by upon the stream<br> - Unheeded in its silent way.</small></td></tr> -</table> - -<p>We cannot recal the whole stanza; but our fair readers may remember -that their albums contained some time since, a beautiful vignette -representing a lady resting in her bower listening to the notes of a -pretty songster perched above her. This engraving was taken from these -lines in this poem:</p> - -<table align="center" border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" summary="poem15"> - <tr><td><small>The bird that sings in lady's bower,<br> - To-morrow will she think of him?</small></td></tr> -</table> - -<p>"This little poem gained the prize awarded by the Mirror, but what the -prize was, we really forget. We have not looked over this poem since -the morning we first read it, near ten years since; and, with a little -effort, we think we could recal it. It was regarded at the time as a -very pretty production.</p> - -<p>"Some of our readers, who are not wont to frown at the lighter efforts -of literature, may remember some poems under the signature of Roy, -which were republished in every paper in the United States, and -occasionally, it is said, in the British periodicals. Those were from -the pen of Willis.</p> - -<p>"Every one who has a soul for poetry has read the scripture sketches. -Hagar—Absalom—the sacrifice of Abraham—Zepthah's Daughter, are all -the productions of a rich imagination. They have their faults, we -allow, and so has another piece which he has called 'better moments,' -and so with many others; but we will take either and all of these, and -will plead the splendor of his genius before any tribunal of taste -under heaven. Willis's poems have passed through several editions. He -also pronounced a fine poem before Brown University. But the fame of -Willis, however proudly it may rest on his poetry, is still more -widely diffused by his prose.</p> - -<p>"It was a cold morning in the winter of 1824-5, before sunrise, in a -division room of Yale College, that Willis gave the first sample of -that mellifluous prose which has since attracted such general -admiration. He was then commencing his sophomore year; and the -student, who had tried a freshman hand on the translations from the -classics, was now called to essay an original composition. We were -class-mates, but were not in the same division. It was not our good -fortune, therefore, to hear his first composition; but we never can -forget the merriment which it produced in college. If we mistake not, -the theme of his first essay was the dilemma of an old man who had -lost his wife; and was in sad perplexity about the plant which he -ought to place at the head of her grave. One suggested that an oak -sapling was best; but the old man contended that it would not in its -infancy protect the grave from the sun and rain; and when it grew up, -it would produce no good fruit, and would, moreover, with its -spreading branches, <i>rot the shingles of his house</i>. Plant after -plant, and tree after tree, were mentioned, the merits of which Willis -scanned with great felicity of thought and language. At last, after a -due reflection on the useful and the becoming, the old man resolved to -plant a <i>cabbage</i> on the grave of his wife. The cold blooded critic, -who delights to fasten his fangs on rising merit, may pronounce the -theme a very unfit subject for merriment; but fellows of eighteen are -no philosophers; and we doubt whether any composition read within the -walls of old Yale, ever produced such a happy effect as the one we -have just noticed.</p> - -<p>"It has been urged against Willis that he spent his time idly at -College, and was totally unversed in those studies which are supposed -to test with the greatest severity the powers of the understanding. If -the meaning of all this be that he is not a profound mathematician, we -readily admit the charge; and declare that we would confide as little -in his judgment, as we would in that of Moore, Rogers or Campbell, in -case either or all united should attempt a new edition of the -Principia, or a full translation of La Place—but as we never heard of -any such intention, we must in candor believe that the objection has -some other meaning. If it were to appear, however, that he is not well -versed in mathematics, we are willing to assign him any punishment -which any one will declare that a boy of seventeen, who has failed to -plunge head and ears into the mathematics, ought to receive.</p> - -<p>"At the same time we are free to declare that the system of teaching -pursued at Yale College, is the most defective the wit of man ever -devised. We mean, of course, the tutorial system. A few raw lads, who -have passed through the collegiate year, and rusticated for a -twelvemonth afterward, are called to preside in the division rooms, -and to perform all the most important duties of education. These -gentlemen, if they went forthwith to supply their great and glaring -defects, and to qualify themselves to perform their delicate and -honorable duties with credit to themselves and honor to the -university, would command our respect; but no sooner do they -accumulate a sum of money, than they bid farewell to the cause of -education. And herein rests our chief objection; which is not that the -tutors are <i>young</i> but that they are utterly insensible to the dignity -and importance of their office, which we deem the most honorable on -earth; and merely consider teaching as the drudgery to which they must -submit, to obtain money enough for their advancement in their various -modes of life. In this aspect the whole system is faulty, and requires -thorough amendment. We said that we did not object to the youth of the -tutors—we rather deem it an advantage, when teaching is to be the -great object and end of pursuit. We think that superannuated generals -and professors rank in one and the same degree. The mind, after a -certain time, clings to its ancient convictions, and shrinks from the -field of experiment. And as the splendid example of Napoleon has -opened the eyes of the world on the subject of old generals; so ought -the example of Bichat, the younger Gregory and the lamented Fisher, to -produce a similar result on the subject of old professors. The -spring-time of life is illumined by a warmer sun than ever lights up -the breast of the old man. Youth is the time of pure aspirations, of -lofty daring and successful achievement. The heart yet untouched with -the sickening lusts and cankering cares of the world; alive to the -finest impulses of our nature, and glowing with the desire of -immortality, is a noble thing; and we verily believe that such a heart -is rarely to be found unless in the bosom of youth.</p> - -<p>"We have blamed freely the tutorial system of Yale College; but we -have given the dark side only. There are advantages accruing from the -system; but they are, in our opinion, utterly inadequate to -counterbalance its great and ruinous defects.</p> - -<p>"While however, we freely denounce the tutorial system of Yale -College, we would not be unjust to the able men who preside in the -institution. For Doctor Day, Mr. Kingsley, Mr. Goodrich and Mr. -Olmstead, we entertain the highest respect; and believe them to be -ripe scholars; but we know the influence of ancient habit, and that -miserable system is so mixed up with the entire machinery of the -institution, that we have barely a hope of seeing it amended by the -present administration. Could Willis have found such a tutor as Mr. -Jefferson has represented Mr. Small to have been—one whose learning -inspired respect, and whose parental kindness melted the heart of the -obdurate, and won back the wayward—we should not have heard this -grave charge against him; as it was, while his classmates were -calculating eclipses, moral and mathematical, he passed with ease from -beside them; and assumed an honorable station in the literature of his -country.</p> - -<p>"But to Mr. Willis as a writer of prose. And one great source of -wonder with us is his uncommon acquaintance with the vocabulary of the -language. He moves over the spacious field with the ease and grace of -the most accomplished scholar. And then his sentences flow so sweetly -on, that you liken them to some limpid rivulet from the hill of the -muses flowing around and about the rich landscape before you, and if -for a moment concealed from the eye, it is only to burst upon you in -all its fullness and beauty. So much for the style of Willis, in its -mechanical sense. But there is something beyond this; and which is far -more important. It is the life of style. And here is the particular -forte of Willis. He reverses the rule of the logician; and instead of -advancing from general to particular, he paints the species with the -minutest care. The letter which we gave yesterday is a happy specimen -of the philosophy of his style. His theme is a voyage on the Hudson in -the summer season, when all are thronging northward, and to this -miscellaneous multitude he seeks to introduce us. He selects a few -individuals, and finishes their portraits with the greatest care and -the most consummate skill. But first observe the connection of the -trip. Whoever has travelled the Hudson in the summer season, will at -once recognize the group of passengers who have arrived '<i>just</i> thirty -seconds too late;' and the striking description of a steamboat 'built -for smooth water, long, shallow and graceful, of the exquisite -proportions of a pleasure yacht; and painted as brilliantly and -fantastically as an Indian shell.' Then we have the Kentuckian to the -life, 'sitting on three chairs;' and the Indian, who does not deign to -show the slightest curiosity, unless in eyeing the broad chest and -sinewy form of the Kentuckian—detecting with characteristic skill the -hardy dweller of Kentucky in the unnatural disguise of ruffled shirt -and fine broadcloth coat 'cut by a Mississippi tailor'—and the -Alabamian, whom the common eye would confound with the Kentuckian, and -who is a different species altogether; and next, the southern beauty -from the interior of Alabama, 'dressed in singularly bad taste;' -graceful as a fawn, but untutored in the mysteries of the dance. In -fine, the whole scene is painted before us almost with the -distinctness of actual life. We pass over the great excellence of this -sketch in other respects; but we are sure that he who reads the letter -will long retain its striking passages in his memory.</p> - -<p>"It will be asked by that race of cynics who set a wonderful value on -the fabrics of their own manufacture, but show no admiration of the -noble structures reared by the genius of others,—it will be asked by -such, what good can such productions accomplish in the business of -life? While we heartily repeat the sentiment first uttered by Dr. -Johnson, and afterwards endorsed by Sir Walter Scott, that we hate a -<i>cui bono</i> man, we will enter the lists in the cause, and declare that -they produce a right and proper effect on the general mind. Now we -have shown that the leading excellence of the writings of Willis -consisted in minute and exceedingly graphic sketches of the natural -world in all its varied aspect of mountain, plain, and river, and that -still more varied chart of instruction—Man. His pages then reflect -like some beautiful stream, with lights and shades, all the rich and -stirring variety of nature. And who will deny that nature hath not a -voice and eloquence that rightly speak to the bosoms of men? And -herein resteth the power of Willis.</p> - -<p>"It may with propriety be inquired, if Willis could not select a more -extended field of fame? We believe that he might select a theme of -higher bearing, and that he is now preparing the path before him. His -present sketches are so many notes from which, in riper years, he will -strike a nobler harmony. We know that he has a fine ambition; an -ambition that looks far beyond the pages of the New Monthly, or the -Mirror,—and which stirreth within him a desire of a great and proper -poem, which 'men will not willingly let die,' and which will weave his -humble name with the destinies of his country."</p> -<br> -<br> -<hr align="center" width="100"><a name="sect10"></a> -<br> -<br> -<div align="right"><small>For the Southern Literary Messenger. </small></div> - -<h4>WASHINGTON AND NAPOLEON.</h4> -<h5>THE CONTRAST.</h5> - -<blockquote><small>——"Urged by a curiosity common to all strangers, Captain Lockerby -visited the tomb of Bonaparte. The spot where the tomb stands is only -accessible by ticket. It was railed round with green palms, and a -sentinel walked round it night and day to prevent approach within the -railing."——</small></blockquote> -<br> -<table align="center" border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" summary="poem16"> - <tr><td>Behold what a contrast is here!<br> - Two heroes gone down to decay—<br> - The grave of the one, how deserted and drear!<br> - While the other is deck'd in its marble array<br> - And a sentinel guards it by night and by day.<br><br> - Oh, what was the life of the first,<br> - That in death they have left him thus lone?—<br> - Was the crown of the Tyrant his thirst?<br> - And mounting in blood on the steps of a throne—<br> - Had he murdered his thousands to aggrandize one?<br><br> - Of grandeur of soul was there none<br> - In that bosom, transform'd to the clod;<br> - The end of its government done,<br> - To abandon the lictor, the axe, and the rod,<br> - When it look'd on its nothingness—thought of its God?<br><br> - But see what a far different scene!<br> - The tomb of the valiant and wise!<br> - Encompass'd secure by its paling of green,<br> - And gleaming in white, as those tropical skies<br> - Beam down on the waste where St. Helena lies.<br><br> - Lo! numbers resort to that spot,<br> - And beauty bows too at the shrine—<br> - Oh virtue! how envied thy lot!<br> - The grave cannot darken thy splendor divine<br> - Nor sully thy brightness, but adds to its shine.<br><br> - Yet C<small>HRISTIAN</small>!—come nearer and read,<br> - For conjecture hath led us astray—<br> - Hast thou heard of one, false to his creed?<br> - Of a blood loving tyrant—ferocious—whose sway<br> - Was supported by rapine, while earth was his prey?<br><br> - 'Tis to him that these honors are paid,<br> - And his dust must be guarded—from whom?<br> - Are the terrified nations afraid<br> - Lest he yet should arise from the curse of his doom,<br> - And bursting its cerements, escape from the tomb?<br><br> - Ah no! he lies powerless now!<br> - But thousands would bear him afar:<br> - To this Juggernaut, long did they bow,<br> - And were abjectly crush'd by the wheels of his car,<br> - As triumphant he rode through the red fields of war.<br><br> - Is virtue then, nought but a name?<br> - Let us turn to the spot we have passed—<br> - If guilt can exult in its shame,<br> - The good in his grave may be silently cast—<br> - Abandoned—unnoticed—the scene but a waste!<br><br> - Yes, yes, thou art dumb with amaze—<br> - 'Tis W<small>ASHINGTON</small> slumbers below—<br> - Was language too weak for <small>HIS</small> praise?—<br> - Was the grief so profound, that it baffled all show,<br> - Or the feeling too deep for the utt'rance of wo?<br><br> - Let us hope that it was—let us trust<br> - That we honor the Friend of Mankind—<br> - That the Corsican despot in dust,<br> - His merited meed of abhorrence shall find<br> - In the progress of truth and the march of the mind.</td></tr> -</table><br> -<br> -<br> -<hr align="center" width="100"><a name="sect11"></a> -<br> -<br> -<h4>MINERAL WEALTH OF VIRGINIA.</h4> - -<blockquote><small>The following interesting communication from Peter A. Browne, Esq. of -Philadelphia, was submitted last winter, by the Governor of Virginia, -to the General Assembly. It was printed with the documents -accompanying the annual message, and bound up with the legislative -journals, but has had no other publicity. It is therefore <i>new</i> to -nineteen-twentieths, if not to <small>ALL</small> of our readers. We confess we feel -somewhat mortified, that the valuable hints and suggestions thrown out -by an intelligent and scientific stranger, should have failed to -attract the attention of our public functionaries. We are not without -hope, however, that a subject of such vital importance as a geological -survey of the state, will claim the earnest and speedy consideration -of the people, as well as their representatives. It is one of those -subjects upon which all parties, however divided by sectional -jealousies or other adverse views, may meet on common ground, and -unite in harmonious action. There is no portion of the commonwealth -which is not deeply interested in the development of its mineral -wealth—none which ought not to lend its hearty sanction to a -scientific survey of the country by a skilful geologist. To say -nothing of the noble example of other states—among them some of our -youngest sisters—our interests are too deeply involved in the -proposed undertaking, longer to defer it. Agriculture,—commerce,—the -arts,—are alike concerned in the successful prosecution of a work -which promises to each such essential benefits. The people of Virginia -have been too long ignorant and unmindful of their own vast resources. -Who would have dreamed a few years since, that a vein of precious -gold, which, for two centuries, had escaped observation, actually -enriched our soil? Who now can form an adequate conception of the -various hidden treasures which science and enterprise may bring to -light. Can the paltry consideration of a few thousand dollars expense, -outweigh the magnificent advantages which are likely to result? Shall -the present generation fold its arms in supineness, and leave every -thing to be done by posterity? We earnestly exhort our legislators to -take the subject into serious consideration.</small></blockquote> - -<blockquote><small>The writer of the subjoined communication will be pleased to learn -that the mineral springs of the state, (which might in themselves be -made a source of boundless wealth,) have been subjected to careful -analysis during the past summer, by an able chemical professor in one -of our colleges. It is understood that the results of his observation -will in due time be laid before the public.</small></blockquote> -<br> -<div align="right"><i>Philadelphia, Sept. 30, 1833.</i> </div> - -<blockquote>S<small>IR</small>,—Although I have not the honor of a personal acquaintance with -you, I have no hesitation in making the present appeal to your -patriotism and wisdom, not doubting but that I shall find in the great -and growing interest of the subject to the country at large, and -particularly to that portion of the Union over which you preside with -so much dignity and discretion, a sufficient apology for occupying so -much of your valuable time, as will enable you to give the present -communication an attentive perusal.</blockquote> - -<blockquote>I have recently returned from a <i>geological</i> excursion to Virginia. I -entered the state near the head waters of the Potomac, passed thence -to Winchester, followed the course of that fine valley to the Natural -bridge; retracing my steps, I turned westwardly at Staunton, crossed -the mountain at Jennings's gap, and visited the justly celebrated -medicinal springs in that region; returning, I went from Staunton -through Charlottesville to Richmond, and down the James to its mouth. -When this tour is taken in connection with a former visit to Wheeling, -it will be conceded that I have seen enough of the state, to enable me -to form a rough estimate of its geological and mineralogical -importance; and I do assure you, sir, that although my anticipations -were far from being meager, I was astonished at the vastness and -variety of interesting objects in that department of natural history, -that were constantly developing themselves, inviting the mind of man -to reflection, and his hands to industry, and displaying at every step -the wisdom and beneficence of the great Creator.</blockquote> - -<blockquote>I determined upon respectfully suggesting to your excellency the -expediency of a topographical, geological, mineralogical and -oryctological survey of Virginia. Should the enlightened -representatives of the freemen of your state concur in this opinion, -it will redound to the honor of all concerned, by the encouragement it -will give to the study of the natural sciences—by the enhancement in -value of lands in the interior, thereby enriching the state and its -citizens, and giving a very proper check to unnatural migrations to -the extreme west, by bringing to light and usefulness innumerable -valuable crude materials, thereby not only enlarging the field of -manufactures and the useful arts, but furnishing carrying for the -canals and roads already constructed, and assisting in new internal -improvements in locations of equal importance. That I may not appear -to be too enthusiastic, pardon me for pointing out some of the most -obvious features in the geology of Virginia. Whether we consider the -comfort and convenience of our species, or the industry and prosperity -of a state, there is no mineral production that can outvie in -importance that of <i>coal</i>. In this country, where we have hitherto -always had a superabundance of fuel, owing to the vast extent of our -natural forests, the importance of a constant and abundant supply is -not felt, and we are too apt to neglect properly to appreciate its -value, but it is not so elsewhere, and a moment's reflection will shew -that it ought not to be so <i>here</i>. Without fuel, of what use would be -to us the metallic ores? for instance iron, which is now moulded, -drawn and worked into thousands and tens of thousands of useful -instruments, from a knife, to the complicated machinery of a steam -engine, would forever remain an indissoluble and useless mass of -matter without the aid of fuel—even the steam engine itself, that -colossus of modern machinery, without the assistance of fire would be -inactive and impotent.</blockquote> - -<blockquote>The Rev. Mr. Conybeare, an eminent English geologist, speaking of the -coal veins (or coal measures, as they are there called,) of his -country, thus expresses himself:</blockquote> - -<blockquote><small>"The manufacturing industry of this island, colossal as is the fabric -which it has raised, rests principally on no other base than our -fortunate position with regard to the rocks of this series. Should our -coal mines ever be exhausted, it would melt away at once, and it need -not be said, that the effect produced on private and domestic comfort -would be equally fatal with diminution of public wealth; we should -lose many of the advantages of our high civilization, and much of our -cultivated grounds must be again shaded with forests, to afford fuel -to a remnant of our present population. That there is a progressive -tendency to approach this limit, is certain, but ages may yet pass -before it is felt very sensibly; and when it does approach, the -increasing difficulty and expense of working the mines of coal, will -operate, by successive and gradual checks, against its consumption, -through a long period, so that the transition may not be very violent; -our manufactures would first feel the shock; the excess of population, -supported by them, would cease to be called into existence, as the -demand for their labor ceased; the cultivation of poor lands would -become less profitable, and their conversion into forests more so."</small></blockquote> - -<blockquote>Where is the state in this union—I might, perhaps, safely ask, where -is the country in the world, that can surpass Virginia in the variety -of position and abundance of supply of this valuable combustible? She -possesses, not only in common with her sister states, a liberal -quantity of bituminous coal in her western and carbonaceous regions, -where, according to geological calculations, bituminous coal might be -reasonably expected to be found; but in the eastern division of the -state, within a few miles of the tide water of a majestic stream, -which empties its ample waters into the Atlantic ocean, in a -geological position, where bituminous coal never would have been -sought after, because bituminous coal could not there have ever been -expected to have been found, bituminous coal of a good quality, and -apparently in great abundance, has been found; nature seeming, as it -were, in this instance, to enable her to favor an otherwise highly -favored land, to have defied all her own rules, and baffled the skill -of the gravest geologist, by depositing bituminous coal upon the naked -and barren bosom of the uncarbonaceous granite! I have often wondered -why this anomaly did not strike the capacious and highly gifted mind -of Jefferson, and why he, or some other of the many reflecting men of -Virginia, was not led by it to inquire, what else there might be in -store for the good people of that state? By neglecting to seek for -them, we ungratefully reject the proffered kindness of our Creator; -the laws of inanimate matter are, in this respect, in unison with -those that govern animated nature; we are furnished with the material -and means, but in order to stimulate us to useful and healthful -industry, we must labor in their appropriation. God gives us the earth -and the seed, but we must plough and sow, or we can never reap; so he -has bountifully placed within our reach innumerable valuable rocks, -minerals and combustibles, but to enjoy them, we must delve into the -bowels of the earth—and having found them, we must, by various -laborious processes, render them fit for our use. To those who are -accustomed to regard these things, it is difficult to determine which -causes the most painful sensations, to observe how few coal mines, in -comparison to what might be, are opened in the neighborhood of -Richmond, or the want of skill exhibited in the selection and working -of those recently opened. Nor is the deposite of the bituminous coal -upon the granite, the only geological anomaly of this quarter. -Proceeding from Charlottesville towards Richmond, almost immediately -after you leave the Talcose formation of the Blue Ridge, you are -astonished at the fertility of the soil; you can scarcely persuade -yourself that you are travelling over a country of primitive rocks. -Soon, however, you discover that the fertility is not universal, but -confined to patches of a brick-red covering, that overlay the -disintegrated materials of the primordial formations, and upon seeking -further into this curious matter, your surprise is not a little -increased, upon discovering that this brick-red covering owes its -existence to the disintegration of a rock, which, in most other -places, is exceedingly slow to decompose, and which, when decomposed, -forms a cold and inhospitable soil. It is the <i>hornblende sienite</i>. -Here it is surcharged with iron, which oxidating by exposure to the -atmosphere and moisture, the rock freely disintegrates, and the oxide -of iron being set at liberty, imparts its coloring to the ground, and -fertilizes the soil in an extraordinary degree.</blockquote> - -<blockquote>Professor Hitchcock, in his report of a geological survey of -Massachusetts, makes the following remarks in relation to the effect -of iron upon a soil:</blockquote> - -<blockquote><small>"No ore except iron occurs in sufficient quantity in the state, to -deserve notice in an agricultural point of view. In the west part of -Worcester county, the soil, for a width of several miles across the -whole state, is so highly impregnated with the <i>oxide of iron</i>, as to -receive from it a very deep tinge of what is called iron rust. This is -particularly the case in the low grounds; where are frequently found -beds of bog ore. I do not know very definitely the effect of this iron -upon vegetation; but, judging from the general excellence of the farms -in the Brookfields, Sturbridge, Hardwicke, New Braintree, Barae, -Hubbardston, &c., I should presume it to be good. Certainly, it cannot -be injurious; for no part of the county exceeds the towns just named, -in the appearance of its farming interest—and nearly all the county, -as may be seen by the map, is of one formation. It would be an -interesting problem, which in that county can be solved, to determine -the precise influence of a soil highly ferruginous upon vegetation."</small></blockquote> - -<blockquote>Next in geological and statistical importance, I would place the -mineral springs of Virginia; and these would form a legitimate subject -of investigation to those who should be appointed to conduct a -geological survey.</blockquote> - -<blockquote>I am not aware of any portion of country of the same extent, -possessing an equal number and variety of mineral springs, as the -counties of Bath, Greenbrier and Monroe. This is a subject upon which -one might easily compose a book, but I must confine myself to a few -lines. The waters are thermal and cold; the former of various degrees -of intensity. They hold in solution a variety of metals, earths, -acids, and alkalies, combined in various proportions, and suited to -relieve the sufferings of invalids from a number of diseases. Mineral -springs of less interest than these, have excited the attention of the -learned in almost every age and country; and Virginia owes it to her -high mental standing, independently of every other consideration, to -assist the cause of science, by investigating the causes of the high -temperature, and making accurate analyses of these waters. It is the -duty of states, as it is of individuals, to furnish their quota to the -general stock of information; and this is peculiarly the duty of a -republican state, whose happiness, nay, whose very political -existence, depends upon an improved state of the minds of its -citizens. Mr. John Mason Good, in his "Book of Nature," after -describing the barren state of society in the middle ages, says, "we -have thus rapidly travelled over a wide and dreary desert, that, like -the sandy wastes of Africa, has seldom been found refreshed by spots -of verdure, and what is the moral? That ignorance is ever associated -with wretchedness and vice, and knowledge with happiness and virtue. -Their connections are indissoluble; they are woven in the very texture -of things, and constitute the only substantial difference between man -and man," and I would add, between state and state.</blockquote> - -<blockquote>Has the heat of these waters any connection with volcanic phenomena? -Or is the temperature entirely chemical, originating in the -decomposition of sulphuret of iron, as I suggested some years ago in a -paper published upon the subject? At the Hot Springs, the hot sulphur -water and the cold pure water, issue out of the calcareous rock at the -base of the Warm Spring mountain, within a few feet of each other. One -of these Virginia Springs, makes a copious deposite of calcareous -tufa; and at another, you perceive newly formed crystals of sulphate -of iron. The White Sulphur Spring takes its name from a rich white -deposite, and the Red Sulphur from one of that color. If this is not -an uncommon and a highly interesting section of country, calling aloud -for investigation, and meriting legislative interference, then have I -taken an entirely erroneous view of the subject.</blockquote> - -<blockquote>The Warm Spring mountain is white sandstone. The rocks of the valley -of the Hot Springs are calcareous, argillaceous and silecious; they -are all nearly vertical. At first the two former, and afterwards the -two latter, alternate. They have all been deposited in a horizontal -position, and between their narrow strata are thin layers of clay -covering organic remains.—Those of the lime and slate are principally -zoophytes. That of the silecious is the fossil described by Doctor R. -Harlan, from a specimen obtained by me in the western part of the -state of New York. He supposed it to be a now extinct vegetable fossil -of the family fucoides, and he has called it <i>Fucoide Brongniard</i>,—in -honor of M. Brongniard. But I suppose it to be <i>animal</i>, and to belong -to the family of the Encrinites.<small><small><sup>1</sup></small></small></blockquote> - -<blockquote><small><small><sup>1</sup></small> See an essay of Richard C. Taylor, F. G. S. on the -geological position of certain beds which contain numerous fossil -marine plants of the family fucoides; near Lewistown, Mifflin county, -Pennsylvania, in vol. I. part I. of the Transactions of the Geological -Society of Pennsylvania, page 1.</small></blockquote> - -<blockquote>The mountain ranges of Virginia are more numerous, and the valleys -consequently narrower, than they are in Pennsylvania; but some of them -are very interesting. The great valley, as it is sometimes called, or -par excellence, <i>the valley</i>, situate between the Blue Ridge and the -North and Alleghany Mountain, is by far the most extensive. The rocks -often obtrude, rendering the soil rather scanty, but nevertheless this -is a fine district of country.</blockquote> - -<blockquote>I could find no fossils in this rock. In regard to the metallic ores, -I would observe, that I discovered sufficient indications of their -existing in Virginia in quantity sufficient to justify a more accurate -examination. Iron abounds in almost every part of the western section -of the state. Traces of copper, lead, manganese and chrome, have also -been discovered near the Blue Ridge; and the gold of Orange County is -equal to any found in the Carolinas or Georgia.</blockquote> - -<blockquote>I have never seen any thing that exceeds the richness and variety of -coloring of the serpentine of the Blue Ridge. This mineral is easily -cut, and the fineness and closeness of the grain renders it -susceptible of a high polish. At Zoblitz in Saxony, several hundred -persons are employed in its manufacture. Besides the minerals -belonging to the Talcose formation, and generally accompanying -serpentine, are many of them valuable in the arts—for instance, -steatite, (soap stone,) talc, chromate of iron, clorite slate, and -native magnesia. A geological survey would, most probably, lead to the -discovery of most of these minerals.</blockquote> - -<blockquote>I could make large additions to this communication, but for the fear -of trespassing upon your patience. I will, therefore, close my -observations with noticing two instances of want of confidence in the -mineral productions of your own state, which I am persuaded that a -geological survey would tend to correct. I met many wagons loaded with -sulphate of lime (gypsum,) from Nova Scotia, being taken to the -interior to be used as a manure; but I did not see one wagon employed -to bring carbonate of lime (common lime stone,) from the inexhaustible -quarries of the great valley to any other district to be used for the -same purpose. In the beautiful and flourishing city of Richmond, I -observed the fronts of two stores fitting up in the new and -fashionable style with granite (so called,) (sienite,) from -Massachusetts, while there exists in the James river, and on its -banks, in the immediate vicinity of the town, rocks of a superior -quality, in quantities amply sufficient to build a dozen cities.</blockquote> - -<blockquote> I have the honor to be, sir,<br> - Your obedient servant,</blockquote> - -<div align="right"><small>PETER A. BROWNE.</small> </div> - -<blockquote><i>To his Excellency John Floyd,<br> - Governor of Virginia.</i></blockquote> -<br> -<br> -<hr align="center" width="100"><a name="sect12"></a> -<br> -<br> -<h4>LAFAYETTE.</h4> - -<blockquote><small>The following tribute to the memory of Lafayette, having been -transmitted from Paris for the purpose of being published in some -American periodical, the gentleman by whom it was received, has -requested that the same may be inserted in the Messenger.</small></blockquote> -<br> - -<p>He breathed not the atmosphere of cities at his birth; he was born on -the mountain top; he inhaled with the breath of life, the breath of -liberty. Though sprung from a lordly race, he was the people's friend; -and, under every trial, he displayed the inborn dignity of man.</p> - -<p>Rich too he was, but lucre was not his idol; and his liberality was as -unbounded, as his heart was generous. At that season of life which, to -common men, is a time for pleasure and dissipation, he heard and -obeyed the holy call of freedom.</p> - -<p>Far off, beyond ocean's bounds, a young and promising nation was -struggling for its rights. He felt, as if instinctively, the part -allotted to him on the stage of life; and he became America's adopted -and beloved son, when in his native land, his name was scarcely known.</p> - -<p>On returning to France, he found her laboring under mysterious -warnings—of good or evil he knew not—the foreboding pangs of -political convulsions; and he put his trust in the cause of humanity, -because he judged of other men from himself.</p> - -<p>But vain was his boldness and wisdom in council; in vain did he beard -in their very den, the infuriate demagogues; a bloody pall was spread -over his devoted country; he gave her up in despair, and the dungeon -of Olmutz closed upon him as a tomb. When a brighter day arose, his -freedom was stipulated as the most glorious trophy of his nation's -victories. But the hurricane had swept the ancient fabric from the -earth; not a vestige of it remained, so dreadful had been the storm. -All the powers of the state were centred in one man; a man of -selfishness and pride, who aimed at absorbing all wills in his own. -And in sooth he did this, with one sole and great exception. The -instinct of freedom, which was as the vital spark in our great -citizen, kept him aloof from the man whose empty and ephemeral triumph -is stained with the blood and tears of every nation. He retired to his -paternal fields; and at a time when the sword ruled paramount, he -guided the fruitful ploughshare.</p> - -<p>Liberty was no more; and by a hard but just retribution, it was made -the rallying word of nations against us. Then fell upon our country -unheard of disasters and defeats; after which dawned a milder reign. -He now reappears upon the public stage; he comes to heal our wounds, -to rekindle in our hearts the love of liberty. He devotes himself to -the task with a zeal unceasing, enlightened by long-tried experience, -inspired by a pure and upright heart, and animated by a spirit of self -denial never equalled. In the prosecution of this noble attempt—he -dies!</p> - -<p>He was one of those men who, at far and distant intervals, appear in -days of degeneracy to arrest the right of proscription against virtue.</p> - -<p>He disdained power, he despised riches, he abhorred corruption. He -wished that all men should be happy and free.</p> - -<p>Yet in the age of barefaced egotism, and under the reign of fraud and -knavery, such disinterestedness and candor must inevitably be -deceived; therefore is it that our political jugglers sneer at this -great and good man—their grovelling minds understand him not.</p> - -<p>But his name, pronounced with reverence in both hemispheres, is become -the watchword of mankind laboring to be free; and it will stand for -ages, as the brightest symbol of humanity.</p> - -<p>Thy soul, oh Lafayette! was a pure and glorious emanation from that -G<small>OD</small> in whose bosom thou now hast found a resting place. He alone can -reward thy manifold virtues, thy constant love of humanity, thy -inexhaustible charity, thy piety and truth. Thou art blessed in -Christ.</p> - -<div align="right"><small>ALEXANDRE DE BOINVILLE.</small> </div> - -<blockquote><i>Paris, May 1834.</i></blockquote> -<br> -<br> -<hr align="center" width="100"><a name="sect13"></a> -<br> -<br> -<div align="right"><small>For the Southern Literary Messenger. </small></div> - -<h4>PINKNEY'S ELOQUENCE.</h4> - -<center><small>Hear you this triton of the minnows?—<i>Coriolanus</i>.</small></center> -<br> -<p>"Yet Mr. Pinkney is not an eloquent man; he is convincing, to be -sure—and that is to be eloquent in one way; but he would be more, and -fails." "Nothing can be further from eloquence, if by eloquence be -understood any thing that is persuasive, beautiful, dignified or -natural, than the declamation or reasoning of William Pinkney." "His -best speeches are a compound of stupendous strength, feeble ornament, -affected earnestness, and boisterous turbulent declamation." "But God -never meant him for an orator; he has no property of mind or body—no -not one, calculated to give him dominion in eloquence."</p> - -<p>As old Doiley says in the farce, when told that "gold in the balance -of philosophy was light as phlogisticated air," this must be deep, for -I don't understand a word of it. The above are extracts from a work, -in which the author undertakes to deny to Mr. Pinkney the praise of -eloquence. No kind of composition confounds me more than criticism, -and especially that sort which pretends to develope the -characteristics of some distinguished orator. If one</p> - -<table align="center" border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" summary="poem17"> - <tr><td><small>——————————should<br> - So get the start of the majestic world</small></td></tr> -</table> - -<p>as to "bear the palm alone," we feel a very natural curiosity to know -what was his appearance, his manner, and peculiar style of eloquence; -but alas! in the hands of the critic, he assumes so many shapes, that -the imagination is absolutely bewildered, and we turn away in despair -of finding out what the man was like. The critic like the newspaper, -contradicts himself at every step. One sentence tells us what another -denies; and we rise from the perusal of his sketch jaded and worn out -with the variety of contrariant ideas which have passed through our -brains. I am no critic, and heaven forbid I should ever belong to that -cold hearted fraternity, who more often pervert taste than improve it; -but I cannot forbear contesting the truth of this writer's assertions, -and declaring that he seems to me to be a Lilliputian about the body -of a Gulliver.</p> - -<p>It has been said of Demosthenes, "that he has been deservedly styled -the prince of orators. His orations are strongly animated, and full of -the impetuosity and ardor of public spirit. His composition is not -distinguished by <i>ornament</i> and splendor. Negligent of the lesser -graces, he seems to have aimed at the sublime, which lies in -sentiment. His action and pronunciation are said to have been -uncommonly <i>vehement</i> and <i>ardent</i>. The Archbishop of Cambray gives -him the preference to Cicero, against whom he makes the objection of -too much <i>ornament</i>." According therefore to this author, if Wm. -Pinkney was not an orator, it follows that Demosthenes was none; -because their style of eloquence seems to have been alike in almost -every particular, except that Pinkney aimed at <i>ornament</i>, of which -Demosthenes had none and Cicero too much. If speeches, characterized -by <i>stupendous strength</i>, and <i>turbulent declamation</i>, and <i>convincing -argument</i>, are neither "persuasive, nor dignified, nor natural," then -was not Demosthenes persuasive, nor dignified, nor natural, and of -course he was no orator according to this definition. If ornament be a -fault in Mr. Pinkney, he had it in common with Cicero; but perhaps the -author may say that Cicero attained what Pinkney only aimed at. Hear -him then again on the subject of ornament, so passionately loved by -Mr. Pinkney. "Bring him in contact with a truly poetical mind, and his -argument resembles a battery of colored fire-works, giving out -incessant brightness and reverberation." It would seem then that -ornament is not a common trait of his eloquence, but a glitter which -is effected by attrition against poetical minds. It is then that he -draws upon the inexhaustible stores of beauty laid up in his mind, -gathered from the writings of Shakspeare and others, and retained by -the force of a powerful memory. He has no fancy of his own, but uses -the fancy of others. Then surely he is so far superior to Demosthenes, -whose eloquence was thought to border on the hard and dry; alike -impetuous, vehement, stupendous and convincing with him, and -superadding a relish for the beauties of poetry; not aiming at any -<i>ornament</i> of his own, but contented with what suggested itself in -illustration of his argument from the pen of others. Then how is he -feeble in ornament? But again; if there be nothing of dignity or -nature in Pinkney's <i>reasoning</i>, how is it discovered that his mind is -"<i>adamant clamped with iron</i>," [a poor conception, and suiting the -ideas of a blacksmith better than a belles-lettres scholar—for the -iron adds nothing to our thoughts of the strength of adamant;] that it -is "a colossal pile of granite, over which the thunders of heaven -might roll," &c. &c. It is useless to quote the rest of the unmeaning -fustian of the sentence.</p> - -<p>After all this avowal of stupendous strength of argument, we are told -in a subsequent paragraph, that say what we will of Mr. Pinkney's -argument, he the author, never saw him yet—no never, pursue his -argument steadily for ten minutes at a time. Then how can it be so -overwhelming and convincing? Nothing lessens so much the force of -argument as a perpetual aberration from the subject. Again; "God never -meant him for an orator; he has no property of mind or body," &c. &c. -Not to say any thing of the presumption and impiety of determining for -God, I would ask what are the <i>bodily properties</i> of an orator? This -writer has not condescended to define them, although he dwells at -large upon such as he thinks cast discredit upon Mr. Pinkney. It is -scarcely necessary to observe that Demosthenes was ungraceful in -figure and action; and that not only <i>orators</i>, but very wise and -learned men, have been repulsive in their persons, their features, and -their manners also. Though Cæsar and Cicero were exempt from defect in -this respect, as far as I remember Demosthenes stuttered—Socrates was -bald and flatnosed—Anthony a rough soldier—Lord Chatham's eloquence -was forcible, but uniform and ungraceful—Fox was a fop of Bond -street, and wore high heeled morocco shoes. Mr. Pinkney therefore may, -without reproach, be a "<i>thick, stout man, with a red fat English -face</i>," and Mr. Fox will keep him in countenance as a fashionable man. -The facetious Peter Pindar has said, that</p> - -<table align="center" border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" summary="poem18"> - <tr><td><small>Love hates your large fat lubberly fellows,<br> - Panting and blowing like a blacksmith's bellows;</small></td></tr> -</table> - -<p>but I never heard that oratory did.</p> - -<p>In the next breath we hear that "Mr. Pinkney has a continual -appearance of natural superciliousness and affected courtesy." -<i>Continual</i>—and yet afterwards "his manner is exceedingly arrogant -and unpropitiating;" and his deportment had been already described as -"<i>brutal, arrogant, full of sound and fury, accompanied by the rude -and violent gestures of a vulgar fellow</i>." One moment he is a giant, -not only <i>metaphorically</i>, but in sober truth, if we may judge from -his stentorian lungs, which have caused the author's whole system to -jar—and from those violent gesticulations, which indicate uncommon -personal strength;—the next, he turns out to be only five feet ten, -and a petit maitre, and affectedly courtly and conciliatory; and yet -"nothing could make a gentleman of him; he can neither look, act, -<i>speak</i>, sit, nor <i>talk</i> like one." Notwithstanding all this -scurrility and abuse of Mr. Pinkney's person, the author is not yet -exhausted, but lavishes more upon his intellect. "The physical powers -of Mr. Pinkney," he says, "are to my notion, strictly correspondent -with his intellectual ones; both arc solid, strong and substantial, -but without grace, dignity or loftiness." Loftiness! the same man who -has such "prodigious elevation and amplitude of mind," "and both have -<i>a dash of fat English dandyism</i>." I confess myself wholly at a loss -to comprehend what the fat dandyism of the intellectual powers is. A -man's mind might, by a forced metaphor, be said to be dandyish, -perhaps; but a <i>fat mind</i>, is a solecism in words wholly inadmissible, -I think. "His style of eloquence," it is added, "is a most -disagreeable and unnatural compound of the worst faults of the worst -speakers." "He is said to resemble Lord Erskine as he was in the day -of his power: it is a libel on Erskine, who was himself a libel on the -reputation of his country as a speaker." "The language of Mr. Pinkney -does resemble that of Lord Erskine; his reasoning is about as -forcible." If the term style here be the manner of speaking -appropriate to particular characters, I have shown that the censure is -equally applicable to Demosthenes, the prince of orators, who, in -addition to his vehemence, was so ungraceful in his motions, that it -was necessary for him to practice with a naked sword hanging over his -shoulder; and therefore to compare Demosthenes to Lord Erskine is a -libel on Lord Erskine, himself a libel on his country as a -speaker—and <i>argal</i>, as Shakspeare says, Demosthenes is inferior to -English orators. If, again, the word style mean the manner of writing -with regard to language, these sentences would involve a -contradiction, and Mr. Pinkney is like and unlike Lord Erskine at the -same time.</p> - -<p>Yet why do I talk of Demosthenes? In the following sentences the -author admits that Mr. P. copied too closely after Cicero and -Demosthenes. "He desired to be eloquent; he thought of Demosthenes and -Cicero, and his heart swelled with ambition. He remembered not that he -was to be a lawyer, and that Demosthenes and Cicero were declaimers. -He who should look to move a body of Americans in a court of justice -by the best thundering of Demosthenes, would only make himself -ridiculous." Very true; and this may certainly prove that Mr. Pinkney -might have been a greater <i>lawyer</i>, by bending the whole force of his -mind to that one pursuit; but it has nothing to do with the premises. -The ground is here changed; this is not the point to be proved—not -the quod erat demonstrandum. The point to be proved is not the -<i>propriety</i> of displaying eloquence before a jury, but that Wm. -Pinkney was never meant by God for an orator; that he has no property -of mind or body to make one. This is assuredly the scope of the -extracts. Had Mr. P. not aimed at <i>ornament</i>, his ashes might have -passed undisturbed by the author, who allows that he was decidedly the -greatest <i>lawyer</i> in America, but is very angry that he was not the -greatest in the world. In spite of all this, however, Pinkney "pursued -his way like a conqueror, and had well nigh established himself as the -high priest of eloquence in America." Why, what a stupid, blind, -misjudging race we must be, to think of choosing a man for our high -priest of eloquence whom God never meant for an orator, and who had no -property, not one, of mind or body, for his business—and never to -awaken from our folly until this writer tore the urim and thummim from -his breast. "The giant," he says, "is gone down like a giant to the -household of death," and there should at least have escaped the -imputation of baseness which deserved shooting. How <i>giants</i> die, I -pretend not to know; but imagine such giants die pretty much like -other people; and it seems to me perfectly ridiculous to talk of a -man's dying like a giant. At that awful hour, the littleness of the -greatest genius is a subject of melancholy reflection. I will only add -that I know nothing of this writer. If his object was to guard us -against the mischievous effects of a false taste in eloquence, he -cannot be angry with me for wishing to guard against the equally bad -effects of a false taste in criticism.</p> - -<div align="right"><small>NUGATOR.</small> </div> -<br> -<br> -<hr align="center" width="100"><a name="sect14"></a> -<br> -<br> -<h4>THE DANDY CHASTISED.</h4> - -<blockquote><small>In this metropolis a real, downright exquisite is rarely to be seen. -Curiosity may be gratified by a good description of the animal as -exhibited in other places. The following communication is from one -residing in a city much more fashionable than ours. Its author seems -well informed in the science of æsthetics; and it is to be hoped that -he will exert himself to correct mistaken impressions as to the -beautiful. Further notices by him may be beneficial.</small></blockquote> -<div align="right"><small>C.</small> </div> -<br> - -<p>Among the follies and vices of mankind, there is nothing more -remarkable or ridiculous than the continual effort, among all classes -and kinds of people—savage, civilized, and pseudo-civilized—to -increase or impart beauty and comeliness to their forms and features. -Through what various and opposite means is this cherished object -pursued! This savage tattoos his cheeks—that smooths and oils them, -and would esteem the gratuitous tattoonry of the small-pox a graver -misfortune than all the pain attendant on the disease.</p> - -<p>The Indians on our Western border are wont to assume the character of -the bear, the panther, or some "other interesting beast of prey," and -place their ambition in enacting the look and conduct of such beast to -the life—and "to the death."</p> - -<p>The belle of that age is surrounded by a vast circumvallation of -hoop—of this, is pinched into a narrow breastwork of steel and -whale-bone.</p> - -<p>To cramp the feet into unnatural littleness is now the sad task of -those who, to be beautiful, are willing to suffer the tortures of the -thumb-screw—or the toe-screw, (it matters not.) The fashion changes, -and long pointed shapeless boots deform the human foot.</p> - -<p>In no age—in no condition, can men and women be persuaded that God -Almighty has made them well,—albeit he hath "made man after his own -image," and woman much better than man.</p> - -<p>They must fall to reforming their forms by some fanciful deformity.</p> - -<p>But the innovation stops not here. Thus far it might be borne. The -human form cannot be wholly changed by all the ingenuity of vanity and -fashion. It must still retain its principal attributes, and lose not -all its lustre. Not so with manners. They are more plastic. From -fashion and human folly they accordingly suffer most. Fashion is the -sworn foe of nature, and in this field there is no natural bound to -its triumphs.</p> - -<p>On the face of the earth, or in the waters, there is no animal to my -feelings so wholly hateful as a modern exquisite: a wretch that has -put off his natural aspect to put on a clay mask, hard, ungainly, -inflexible, of lifeless mud—which no Prometheus could vivify: a thing -which can boast neither the humor of the monkey, nor the fierce -respectability of the wild beast,—not the usefulness of the -tame—still less the dignity and bearing of a man.</p> - -<p>Sometime since, after sauntering an evening through a ball room, in -which some such caricatures of men were existing, I went home and -vented my rage in the following doggerel:</p> - -<h5>The Indignant Rhymes of a Natural Proser.</h5> - -<table align="center" border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" summary="poem19"> - <tr><td> Oh! Muse, assist me in my strain!<br> - Your Museship I would entertain<br> - With a poetic flagellation:<br> - Assist me Muse, to lay the lash on,<br> - With pen formed from a dog-wood switch,<br> - Fit to chastise a dunce: with pitch<br> - For ink, and bull's hide parchment handy;<br> - Now aid me, Muse, and we'll chastise a dandy.<br><br> - That petty, puny, paltry, pretty thing—<br> - In form a wasp, but destitute of sting;<br> - Vain as a peacock, soulless as a gnat,<br> - Brainless as soulless, finical as flat:<br> - Of apes the ape most awkward and most vile—<br> - Jackall of monkeys, and without jacko's wile.<br> - The jackall serves none but the noblest beast,<br> - But this base thing takes lessons from the least.<br> - As Egypt's sons did bow the knee of yore,<br> - And worship apes, the eternal God before—<br> - He, in god image framed, with godlike mind,<br> - Would be a god—of Egypt's monkey kind.<br> - A traveller sage! Europe he hath explored—<br> - His mistress fashion, and an ape his lord.<br> - No dignity finds he in native man,<br> - Acting and thinking after nature's plan;<br> - No wisdom, save in artificial fools—<br> - Nature's apostates—slaves to senseless rules:<br> - No beauty sees he, save in gold and lace,<br> - A made up figure, and a painted face;<br> - And no politeness, save in mere grimace.<br><br> - Go! thou vile satire on the human race;<br> - Go! <i>on all fours</i>, and seek thy proper place:<br> - Go! thing too mean for any mighty ill—<br> - Go! petty monster, "pay thy tailor's bill."</td></tr> -</table><br> -<br> -<br> -<hr align="center" width="100"><a name="sect15"></a> -<br> -<br> -<div align="right"><small>For the Southern Literary Messenger. </small></div> - -<h4>PLACED WITH A ROSE UPON A LADY'S CHEEK.</h4> -<br> -<table align="center" border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" summary="poem20"> - <tr><td>Roses on roses I bestow;<br> - Bright rose! to brighter roses go—<br> - Bask in the sunlight of her eyes,<br> - Nor dread their fires; the dews which rise<br> - In pity for a heart that grieves,<br> - Will shed reviving coolness on thy leaves.</td></tr> -</table> -<div align="right"><small>QUESTUS. </small></div> - -<blockquote><i>Norfolk</i>.</blockquote> -<br> -<br> -<hr align="center" width="100"><a name="sect16"></a> -<br> -<br> -<div align="right"><small>For the Southern Literary Messenger. </small></div> - -<h4>THE ALLEGHANY LEVELS.</h4> -<br> -<p>The following description of a part of Virginia and Maryland, seldom -visited and but little known, may have sufficient interest to deserve -a place in the columns of the Messenger.</p> - -<p>The country alluded to, is in the northern part of this state, and -comprehends that corner of Maryland included between the North Branch -of Potomac and a line due north from the Fairfax stone, at the head -spring of that stream, to the Pennsylvania line; and also a portion of -the territory at present in dispute between the two states; Maryland -claiming as her boundaries the South Branch of Potomac and a meridian -thence to Mason and Dixon's line,—while the first mentioned limits -only are acknowledged by Virginia.</p> - -<p>A short notice of the origin of these conflicting titles might, -perhaps, be interesting to some readers; but in addition to our lack -of complete information, the limits of this sketch will not permit it.</p> - -<p>Between Cheat river, at the fertile bottom called the Horse-shoe, and -the summit of the mountain which divides the Western from the Atlantic -waters, the country is thinly peopled, and only cultivated in the -largest tributary vallies: the long spurs of the Backbone being too -sterile to serve any other purpose than ranges for cattle and animals -of the chase. The approach to the Great Backbone of the Alleghany -region is here, as elsewhere on the western side, characterized by a -broad and gentle acclivity, covered almost entirely with loose rocks -of various sizes, many of them of the species of agglomerated quartz, -familiar to the west under the name of country mill-stone, and -valuable for the domestic molendinary uses of the simple and hardy -race inhabiting those regions.</p> - -<p>There is little timber of large size, the growth being chiefly -chestnut oak and small moss-grown white oaks, exhibiting upon their -blackened roots the scathing effects of flames, which, through the -negligence of hunters in firing the dry leaves, have often and -fiercely swept down the mountain side. The more recent inroads of fire -are denoted by large tracts of underwood, black and denuded of leaves, -and so stiffened by scorching as to present vexatious obstacles to -progress, independent of the minor, though, in that place, unimportant -annoyance of soiled clothes and person.</p> - -<p>Large pine and birch trees, and a thicker undergrowth—detached blocks -of stratified sandstone, some of them of huge size—and an increasing -wildness and desolation in the aspect of the scenery, inform the -traveller who may have ventured so far, that he is on the confines of -the Alleghany wilderness.</p> - -<p>The mountain top, near Lord Fairfax's stone, is crowned with a bold -irregular precipice, which the hunters belonging to the exploring -party of which the writer of this article was a member, termed the -Bear-holeing, from its being the winter abode of great numbers of -those animals,—the numerous cavities of the rocks, and the tangled -laurel thickets, affording them a secure refuge from foes, whether -biped or canine.</p> - -<p>We were not without hope of being treated to the novelty of a bear -hunt, our guides being veterans of the rifle, and accompanied by fine -dogs, one of them as his master informed us, having engaged Sir Bruin -more than fifty times.</p> - -<p>The perils of this sport may well give a reputation for boldness and -hardihood to our western yeomanry, when we consider that these -encounters always occur in most intricate thickets of stubborn tangled -laurel, in which the bear must have greatly the advantage in -progression,—the sharp form of his head, and its close proximity to -the ground, making it perform, in relation to his huge muscular body, -the office, it might be said, of the coulter to a plough. But few of -them are killed without the sacrifice of one or more of man's zealous -confederates in this dangerous sport; and the rescue of the faithful -brutes, (such is the inexpugnable nature of the foe and his -extraordinary vital energy, which seems often to defy even the rifle,) -obliges the hunter, with a personal daring not inferior to that of the -Roman gladiators, to terminate the conflict with his hunting -knife;—he dies invariably biting the ground or whatever else may be -within his reach; showing to the very last the propensity to combat, -which he exhibits even while a cub.</p> - -<p>The range of precipice of which we have spoken, either terminates, or -is interrupted for some distance north of this point—whence, for more -than thirty miles, the country is totally without human inhabitant, -and will probably for a long time, if not always, so remain.</p> - -<p>The land may be said to lie in lofty tables, though the vallies are of -great depth—the latter circumstance alone reminding the traveller -that he has descended a mountain,—the seemingly interminable tract of -flat forest land impressing, most forcibly, the idea of a lower -situation, though these are without doubt among the very highest lands -in Virginia. They are called by the hunters and settlers upon their -outskirts, the Alleghany Levels. In them are the principal sources of -all the great waters of Virginia. The North and South Branches of -Potomac, Jackson's river, and the Shenandoah, Greenbrier and Gauley, -Cheat and Tygart's Valley—which flow north, east, west and south, -seeking by long and winding courses, the Ohio or the Atlantic Ocean.</p> - -<p>The greatest singularity of this country consists in its primeval -appearance: the ground is carpeted throughout with an elastic and -verdant moss; black spruce and hemlock pines, of dark funereal aspect, -tower above the soil like an army of Titans,—the interlacing of their -umbrageous arms converting the noonday into seeming twilight. Under -its mossy covering, the surface of the ground is completely -reticulated with roots of trees—nature seeming to compensate in -numbers for the defective character of her supports, as large trees -may be often observed whose roots do not enter the ground for some -feet below the trunk, being previously contorted and spread out like -the arms of a polypous, and clothed in the same mantle of moss which -overspreads rocks, trees and earth, in this fantastic region.</p> - -<p>This moss may be stripped from the soil in sheets of any desirable -size, and, when not previously saturated with rain, affords a most -comfortable substitute for a mattrass, as in our bivouacs we more than -once experienced.</p> - -<p>The underwood is mostly streaked maple or elkwood, (the <i>Acer -Striatum</i> of Michaux,) diversified with immense tracts of the <i>Kalmia -Latifolia</i> and the large rose-bay-tree, (<i>Rhododendron Maximum</i>,) more -popularly known as the "little and big laurels." The last named plant, -when in flower, is the ornament of the wilderness. Those who have -never seen it, may have some conception of its appearance, if they -imagine tall bushes, from eight to twenty feet in height, with dark -evergreen leaves, (not unlike in form and color to those of the -magnolia grandiflora,) bearing clusters of full blown peonies, or -large double damask and cinnamon roses, the intensity of the color -seeming to vary with situation.</p> - -<p>It is to be feared that this beautiful plant cannot easily be -naturalized in this climate—an attempt made by the writer of this -article, possibly from a too warm or not sufficiently humid exposure, -having failed.</p> - -<p>The geographical position of these "laurel beds" is a necessary part -of the hunter's lore. Frequent instances are narrated of persons -bewildered in them many days, and some are said to have perished. A -farmer, born and residing on Stony river, five miles north of this -wild, by whom we were supplied with provisions, accompanied us to the -skirt of the forest, but could by no entreaty be induced to proceed -farther.</p> - -<p>These laurel thickets are most frequent in approaching vallies, which -are as before remarked, of great depth; the descent is sudden, in -general by what resembles a rude flight of steps, moss grown and -ruined. To casual observation there would appear to be no water at the -bottom; but a subterraneous rumbling, and occasional flashes through -the interstices of the fragments on which he steps, inform the -passenger that a stream of volume and power is beneath him.</p> - -<p>The largest streams however, as in other regions, flow in open -channels, their waters having a dark ferruginous tinge, derived it is -said, from the laurel roots, but more probably from deposites of ore -through which they flow.</p> - -<p>The wild animals are no doubt many, as well as various, though the -noise attending our own operations kept them from our sight. We daily -saw tracks of bears, deer and elk; of the latter, a drove of some -threescore is said still to inhabit these almost inaccessible wilds. -Of birds, we saw none living except a few silent and melancholy snow -birds; but our nightly lullaby was the whooping of owls, which here -abound in great numbers.</p> - -<p>To the reputed wonders of rattlesnake dens, where these reptiles lie -in monstrous cumuli, refusing to uncoil until the whole mass has been -many times assailed with rifle balls and other missiles, we cannot -testify, having never, though very desirous of so doing, the fortune -to find one.</p> - -<p>The soil is a cold argillaceous loam, unsuited to the production of -the nobler grains, but susceptible of becoming, under proper culture, -good grazing land, and no doubt proper for rye, oats and -potatoes,—the invariable products of the whole mountain region.</p> - -<p>The botany of the wilderness proper, is confined chiefly to the two -species of pine before mentioned, the hemlock pine (<i>Pinus -Canadensis</i>,) and the black spruce (<i>Pinus Nigra</i> of Lambert.) Some -stately specimens of the wild cherry and scattering patches of red -beach complete the list.</p> - -<p>On emerging from the wilderness, the customary variety of oak, ash -maple and hickory presents itself, mingled with the cucumber tree -(<i>Magnolia Acuminata</i>,) and that invaluable treasure to western -housewives, the sugar tree,—announcing the neighborhood of -cultivation.</p> - -<p>This dreary expanse of forest terminates on the summit of the Eastern -Front Ridge, at the head of the North Fork of Patterson's creek, -itself an inconsiderable tributary of Potomac, but deserving celebrity -for the grandeur of its scenery. It appears to have cut its way -through three lofty mountains in succession, affording a more sublime -exhibition of river gap landscapes than I have witnessed in any other -part of the state,—the boasted grandeur of Harper's Ferry fading into -insignificance when compared with it.</p> - -<p>At the first farm east of the wilderness,—in the homely but -comfortable dwelling of one of the worthy Dutch farmers, our little -party enjoyed the unwonted luxury of beds, and were able to breakfast -without performing for ourselves the office, which has occasioned our -species to be so properly designated as "cooking animals."</p> -<div align="right"><small>C. B. S. </small></div> -<br> -<br> -<hr align="center" width="100"><a name="sect17"></a> -<br> -<br> -<div align="right"><small>For the Southern Literary Messenger. </small></div> - -<h4>THE CYCLOPEAN TOWERS,</h4> -<h5>IN AUGUSTA COUNTY, VA.</h5> -<br> -<p>On a fine morning in September 1834, a party of which the writer was -one, consisting for the most part of gentlemen who had met together in -the town of Staunton from various sections of the Union, resolved on a -visit to certain remarkable <small>NATURAL STRUCTURES</small> which lay in the -neighborhood of the Augusta Springs, and about twenty miles distant -from the place of their departure.</p> - -<p>After passing over a hilly and picturesque country, the road opened -upon a fertile valley, which though in places narrow, was of -considerable length,—and when seen from an elevated position, -appeared like the bed of an ancient lake, or as it really is, the -alluvial border of a flowing stream. The strata of limestone hills, -followed their usual order of parallel lines to the great mountains of -our continent, as though a strong current had once swept through this -magnificent valley,—forming in its course islands and -promontories,—which are now discoverable in numerous short hills and -rocky bluffs, that are either naked and barren, or covered with a -growth of stately trees. It was at such a projection, that we first -descried the gray summits of what seemed a ruinous castle,—resembling -those which were raised in feudal times to guard the passes of the -Rhine, or like such as are still seen in mouldering majesty on many an -Alpine rock. These summits or towers, of which there are seven, lifted -their heads above the lofty elms, like so many antique chimnies in the -midst of a grove; but, on approaching them nearer, our pleasure was -greatly increased, to find them rise almost perpendicularly from the -bed of a small stream, which winding around their base, serves as a -natural moat to a building not made with mortal hands. The southern -front of this colossal pile, presents a wall of about sixty feet -elevation, terminating in three towers of irregular height, and -perforated at its base by a cavern,—which, by an apt association, was -denominated "<i>Vulcan's Forge</i>." The tower on the extreme right, was -unanimously called "<i>Cocke's Tower</i>"—in honor of one of our party who -ascended it. On the left, are two other isolated towers,—of which the -centre or smaller one was distinguished as the "<i>Hymenial Altar</i>,"—a -name which had its origin partly in a <i>jeu d'esprit</i>, and partly on -account of a shady bower in its rear, which seemed an appropriate -shade to mantle maiden's blushes. The furthest and tallest, received -the title of the "<i>Tower of Babel</i>." This is also the most -perpendicular of all these rocky structures; an archway passes through -it, by which there is an easy ascent to the remaining two, which stand -on the acclivity of the hill,—and though of less altitude, are not of -inferior beauty to the rest. One of them, which is of a round form, -and flat at the top, and on that account received the appellation of -the "<i>Table Rock</i>"—affords from its summit a splendid view of the -whole; the other, and last of the five, we distinguished as -"<i>Shelton's Rock</i>"—from one of our party.</p> - -<p>These rocks in their formation resemble the palisades on the Hudson -river—but are more regular in their strata,—which appear to have -been arranged in huge masses of perfect workmanship—with projections -like cornices of Gothic architecture, in a state of dilapidation. -Those who are acquainted with the structure of the Cyclopean walls of -the ancients, would be struck with the resemblance,—which suggested -the name at the head of this article.</p> - -<p>We pause to inquire why these primeval fragments of the world have -remained so long unnoticed? Why is it that men are so easily awakened -to the liveliest interest in distant objects, and yet neglect those -which are nearer and more accessible? "A prophet" it hath been said on -high authority, "hath honor save in his own country,"—and to that -strange propensity of the mind to contemn whatever is familiar, must -be attributed the neglect of many of the richest treasures at our own -door, which frequently impart both wealth and distinction to foreign -enterprise. For many years these towers have been known in the -surrounding country, by the homely appellation of "<small>THE CHIMNEYS</small>,"—but -no one has ever stopped to examine them, or to inquire how nature -formed so curious a pile in such a spot. Imagination may indeed -conceive that this noble structure was once the <i>Scylla</i> of a narrow -strait connecting the waters of the north and the south, until their -accumulated pressing burst through the blue ridge at Harper's Ferry, -and left in their subsidence these towers, as a perpetual memorial of -their former dominion.</p> -<div align="right"><small>G. C. </small></div> -<br> -<br> -<hr align="center" width="100"><a name="sect18"></a> -<br> -<br> -<blockquote><small>[We do not remember where or when the following <i>Sonnet to Lord Byron</i> -was published. All we know is that it has been in print before, and -has been ascribed to the pen of the Hon. R. H. Wilde, of Georgia.]</small></blockquote> - -<h4>ORIGINAL SONNET TO LORD BYRON.</h4> -<br> -<table align="center" border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" summary="poem21"> - <tr><td> Byron! 'twas thine alone on eagle's pinions,<br> - In solitary strength and grandeur soaring,<br> - To dazzle and delight all eyes, out-pouring<br> - The electric blaze on tyrants and their minions;<br> - Earth, sea and air, and Powers and Dominions,<br> - Nature—man—time—the universe exploring,<br> - And from the wreck of worlds, thrones, creeds, opinions,<br> - Thought, beauty, eloquence, and wisdom storing.<br> - O! how I love and envy thee thy glory!<br> - To every age and clime alike belonging;<br> - Linked by all tongues with every nation's story,<br> - Thou T<small>ACITUS</small> of song!—whose echoes thronging<br> - O'er the Atlantic, fill the mountains hoary<br> - And forests with a name which thus I'm wronging. -</td></tr> -</table><br> -<br> -<br> -<hr align="center" width="100"><a name="sect19"></a> -<br> -<br> -<div align="right"><small>For the Southern Literary Messenger. </small></div> - -<h4>MUSINGS III—<i>By the Author of Vyvyan</i>.</h4> - -<h4>JAMESTOWN.</h4> - -<table align="center" border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" summary="poem22"> - <tr><td><small> Yet could I seat me by this ivied stone<br> - Til I had bodied forth the heated mind<br> - Forms from the floating wreck which ruin leaves behind. </small></td></tr> - <tr><td align="right"><small><i>Childe Harold's Pilgrimage</i>, <i>Canto</i> iv. <i>Stanza</i> civ.</small></td></tr> - <tr><td> </td></tr> - <tr><td><small>Tawnor nehiegh Powhatan.</small></td></tr> - <tr><td align="right"><small><i>Salvage dialect</i>, <i>apud Capt. Smith</i>.</small> -</td></tr> -</table> -<br><br> -<table align="center" border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" summary="poem23"> - <tr><td>I stand on hallowed ground—the sacred sod<br> - Which once an ill-starred people bravely trod<br> - In native freedom, ere the wanderer crost<br> - The broad Atlantic waters and love lost<br> - The fair reward of labor, ill repaid<br> - By base desertion—country—friends betrayed—<br> - Misery and exile from a native land,<br> - Ending in death upon a foreign strand.<br><br> -* -* -* -* *<br><br> - My spirit falls into a deeper mood<br> - And thought goes darkly forth to gather food<br> - For bitter contemplation;—for I trace<br> - Some record of the spoilers of that race<br> - Most gallant, wheresoe'er I turn mine eyes,—<br> - While of the exiled—neath their native skies<br> - Is scarce a token left—save what belongs<br> - To a sad history of unnumbered wrongs.<br> - Methinks the very sun's departing rays<br> - With melancholy meaning seem to gaze<br> - Upon the hostile monuments of yore,—<br> - Yon ruined arch with ivy overgrown—<br> - Those shattered tombs of moss-discolored stone—<br> - That slowly moulder by the silent shore.<br><br> -* -* -* -* *<br><br> - Might I the Genius of Old Time invoke,<br> - This were the hour—the place—where many an oak<br> - Tosses its arms and points to ancient graves<br> - Beside the aisleless tower, which o'er the waves<br> - Shall no more send its voice upon the air,<br> - To call to matin or to vesper prayer.<br> - Alone, it stands, like some grim sentinel<br> - And in stern silence bids the world farewell!<br><br> -* -* -* -* *<br><br> - Lift we the veil of vanished centuries—<br> - Beneath the shade and shelter of these trees<br> - The careless Indian smoked his calumet—<br> - (The C<small>HRISTIAN</small> had not crost the ocean yet)—<br> - Without a thought to mar his musing, save<br> - To strand his light canoe beyond the wave<br> - Or fasten it with sedgy rope secure,<br> - Lest the next tide should steal it from the shore.<br> - But lo! one evening as he lay beside<br> - The margin where his native waters glide,<br> - A sight of wonder on his vision broke;<br> - And the deep voice of flame in thunder spoke<br> - The doom of wo to him and all his race.<br> - Yet fear, which might have blanched a paler face,<br> - Quenched not the flashings of his dauntless eye,<br> - Nor for an instant quelled that bearing high<br> - Which best became the warrior of the wild—<br> - The Hunter bold—the Forests' lordly child!<br> - Ay! tho' the evil spirit of his sky,<br> - For such well might his inexperienced eye<br> - Have deemed it, lurked within the snow-white mist<br> - That brooded o'er the silent river's breast,<br> - And spoke in accents of the dark storm-cloud,<br> - From out the folding of its gleaming shroud,<br> - He stood prepared to meet the worst—like one<br> - Who hath no fear of aught beneath the sun.<br> - Methinks I see him watching by the shore,<br> - With strained eye, intently gazing o'er<br> - The river's course. Well may he clasp his brow<br> - In doubt and wonder—is he dreaming now?—<br> - The cloud seems gathering up its folds of snow,<br> - And straight spars glitter in the sunset glow,<br> - Far loftier than the loftiest pine that rears<br> - Its stately crest above its tall compeers:<br> - Beneath—a huge dark mass is seen to glide<br> - With stealthy motion o'er the heaving tide,<br> - Crowded with moving forms of human mould,<br> - But of an aspect well might daunt the bold,<br> - Gazing the first time on that pallid crew,<br> - So foreign and so ghastly in their hue!<br> - But hark!—the distant shout that wildly pours<br> - Its thousand echoes on the strand, assures—<br> - Swift to the Chiefs he speeds—the wise—the bold<br> - In council meet—his tale is briefly told;<br> - Then far and near they gathered in their might<br> - And 'gainst the invader battled for their right,<br> - As valiant men should for the altars reared<br> - By their forefathers and the homes endeared<br> - By thousand ties and recollections past<br> - To which the heart clings warmly to the last.<br> - But not to lengthen out a thrice told tale—<br> - The Red Man never yielded to the Pale,<br> - Though forced by foreign fire to wander far,<br> - Homeless and houseless, neath the evening star.<br> - Slowly and sad, the western hills they climb,<br> - Yet find no rest beyond for wearied limb<br> - And aching heart—no single spot of earth,<br> - Of all the wide spread land that gave them birth,<br> - Is theirs. They gaze upon the setting sun<br> - And feel their course like his must soon be run—<br> - They hear their requiem in the deepening roar<br> - Of waves that dash upon the distant shore—<br> - But they must wander on unceasingly<br> - So long as space remains for footing free,<br> - Til hemmed at last twixt ocean and the foe<br> - They turn to bay <i>once more</i> and perish so.<br><br> -* -* -* -* *<br><br> - Oh! little dreamed the tender hearted maid,<br> - By love and her own gentleness betrayed,<br> - That death and desolation's fellest wrath<br> - So surely followed—in the very path<br> - Of good intent—to whelm her race with woes<br> - She would have warded even from her foes.<br> - Where yonder temporary structure frail<small><small><sup>1</sup></small></small><br> - Extends across the strait its slender rail,<br> - The shallow waves at flood scarce overflow<br> - The sandy bar the ebb reveals below—<br> - 'Twas there the royal daughter crost to save<br> - The pilgrim strangers from an early grave.<br> - Who that had seen her on that fatal night,<br> - Swift gliding, like a startled water sprite,<br> - To that lone Island-Fort where calmly slept<br> - The dreaming foe, in fancied safety wrapt—<br> - Who could have aimed at such a breast the shaft?<br> - Tho' well apprised no other means were left<br> - To baffle treason—not as such designed<br> - In the simplicity of her guileless mind.<br> - Had she been only destined to inherit<br> - A portion of that fierce determined spirit<br> - And deep prophetic hate—like vestal fire<br> - Nursed in the bosom of her royal sire,<br> - A nation's doom had not been rashly sealed<br> - By mercy thus so erringly revealed—<br> - But it is done—and lo! the love which hurled<br> - An ancient race to ruin—<small>GAINED A WORLD</small>!! -</td></tr> -</table> - -<blockquote><small><small><sup>1</sup></small> Alluding to the new bridge erected by Collier Minge, Esq. -affording passage from the main land to the island, where a wharf has -been built for the accommodation of steamboat travellers.</small></blockquote> -<br> -<br> -<hr align="center" width="100"><a name="sect20"></a> -<br> -<br> -<div align="right"><small>For the Southern Literary Messenger. </small></div> - -<h4>THE FATED CITY.</h4> -<br> -<table align="center" border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" summary="poem24"> - <tr><td>'Twas evening, and the sinking sun<br> - Streamed brightly in the sky,<br> - And cast his farewell beams abroad,<br> - Like smiles of an approving god,<br> - O'er plain, and mountain high—<br> - O'er waving fields of floating gold<br> - That, round his gorgeous pyre, were rolled,<br> - And o'er the city's glistening spires,<br> - That flashed beneath his blazing fires.<br><br> - There lay that city;—wealth and pride<br> - Had built their temples there,<br> - And swift-winged commerce there had brought,<br> - From many a clime, her trophies caught:—<br> - From Indian isles afar,<br> - The pearl, the beryl and the gem;—<br> - But treasures, far outvieing them,<br> - Were with that city's wealth combined—<br> - The priceless treasures of the mind!<br><br> - The sun went down, and night came o'er<br> - That city's winding walls;<br> - The white moon rose along the sky,<br> - And looked down calm, and silently,<br> - Upon the shouting halls,<br> - Where music rang, and laughter went,<br> - From lip to lip, in merriment;—<br> - Where all was careless, heedless, light,<br> - Besporting on that festal night!<br><br> - An hour passed on;—what cry was that,<br> - Which thrilled that city so?<br> - What shrieks are those,—what means yon cloud<br> - That wraps the temple, like a shroud,<br> - And fills the breast with wo?—<br> - What mean yon flames, that blazing, run<br> - Along that mountain dark and dun?—<br> - Why quakes the land,—why heaves the sea—<br> - Why peal the heavens dreadfully?<br><br> - Night left the earth;—the sun arose,<br> - As wont, above the sky,<br> - And looked,—not on that city bright,<br> - Which he had left before the night,<br> - With turrets gleaming high;<br> - But on a black and blasted waste,<br> - Dread desolation's hand had traced,—<br> - Upon a flood of <i>lava</i>, where<br> - Once proudly stood P<small>OMPEII</small> fair! -</td></tr> -</table> -<div align="right"><small>A. B. M. </small></div> -<blockquote><i>Tuscaloosa, Alabama</i>.</blockquote> -<br> -<br> -<hr align="center" width="100"><a name="sect21"></a> -<br> -<br> -<div align="right"><small>For the Southern Literary Messenger. </small></div> - -<h4>HYMN TO THE STARS.</h4> -<h5>BY D. MARTIN, <i>of Mobile</i>.</h5> -<br> -<table align="center" border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" summary="poem25"> - <tr><td>Ye burning blazonry of God!<br> - Ye glittering lights that never die!<br> - That pace the realms by seraphs trod!<br> - And hold untiring watch on high!<br> - And circling heaven's eternal king,<br> - Ye dwell—His glorious fashioning!<br><br> - Creation saw your timeless birth,<br> - When from your own clear sapphire skies,<br> - Ye looked upon the virent earth,—<br> - An everlasting paradise!—<br> - And seemed to mock with silent gaze,<br> - Nature's green garb and tuneless lays!<br><br> - Since then ye've read the world's black page,<br> - And seen a stream sublime,<br> - Roll its dark waters o'er an age<br> - Of countless years of time!—<br> - In whose deep, dark, unletter'd caves,<br> - Earth hides her mighty as in graves!<br><br> - Life's wasting—but ye still shine on,<br> - And seem to me to be,<br> - The lights upon the horizon<br> - Of eternity's black sea!—<br> - Pointing to the sun-lit far off west,<br> - Where all immortal spirits rest! -</td></tr> -</table><br> -<br> -<br> -<hr align="center" width="100"><a name="sect22"></a> -<br> -<br> -<div align="right"><small>For the Southern Literary Messenger. </small></div> - -<h4>TO * * * * *.</h4> -<br> -<table align="center" border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" summary="poem26"> - <tr><td>Believe not that my heart is cold,<br> - And feels not friendship's sacred fire,<br> - If I sometimes myself withhold,<br> - And from thy festive scenes retire.<br><br> - Oh, no! I love the social bower<br> - Where friendship smiles with joyous mirth,<br> - And yet to me there is an hour<br> - More dear than all those scenes on earth.<br><br> - 'Tis when in pensive mood, the mind,<br> - Retires within itself to muse,<br> - And some bright dream, long since resigned,<br> - With sad though pleasing thought reviews;<br><br> - Some golden dream of early years,<br> - When all the heart was warm and true;<br> - And life, unshaded yet with cares,<br> - Displayed its best and brightest hue.<br><br> - 'Twas then I dreamed of faithful love,<br> - That would o'er time and change prevail—<br> - Food, fairy scenes of pleasure wove—<br> - Bright, verdant spots in life's dark vale.<br><br> - But time advanced, and at one sweep<br> - My air-built castles tore away;<br> - And, like a wreck upon the deep,<br> - My shattered hopes and prospects lay.<br><br> - Upon life's ocean still I'm tossed;<br> - And tho' the skies are sometimes bright,<br> - Yet on the waves again I'm lost,<br> - Midst howling storms and pitchy night.<br><br> - Believe not then my heart is cold,<br> - And feels not friendship's sacred fire,<br> - If I sometimes myself withhold,<br> - And from thy festive scenes retire. -</td></tr> -</table> -<div align="right"><small>L. </small></div> - -<blockquote><i>Pittsylvania</i>.</blockquote> -<br> -<br> -<hr align="center" width="100"><a name="sect23"></a> -<br> -<br> -<div align="right"><small>For the Southern Literary Messenger. </small></div> - -<h4>THE GRAVE SEEKERS.</h4> -<h5>BY R. S. F.</h5> -<br> -<table align="center" border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" summary="poem27"> - <tr><td>Come part the crowd, and open a way,<br> - For those who are seeking the grave;<br> - Some are pressing on in the light of day,<br> - Some by the moon's obscurer ray,<br> - Some on land and some on the wave.<br><br> - Now come with me to the festive hall,<br> - Where in mirth they dance and sing,<br> - Till echo is answered by echo's call,<br> - As the merry peals ring from one and all;<br> - To the grave they swiftly wing.<br><br> - Again with me, come haste away<br> - Where the theatre shines so bright,<br> - For there the lamps, with their peerless ray,<br> - Have darkness changed into brighter day.<br> - They gaze on the stage with delight!<br><br> - Come follow this crowd which moves as the wave<br> - On the gently ebbing sea;<br> - With the scenes of the night their bosoms heave,<br> - But little they think the next is the grave,<br> - Not of the stage—but eternity.<br><br> - See, reckless youth—maturer age<br> - Alike are far from heaven;<br> - In festive scenes their time engage—<br> - They idly sport—they madly rage—<br> - While to the grave they are driven.<br><br> - Ye may trace their path as ye move along<br> - The busy crowds of care;<br> - In the house of God—in the house of song—<br> - In distant isles—the waves among,<br> - To the grave they must all repair.<br><br> - So part the crowd, and open a way,<br> - For those who are seeking the grave;<br> - Some are pressing on in the light of day,<br> - Some by the moon's obscurer ray,<br> - Some on land and some on the wave. -</td></tr> -</table><br> -<br> -<br> -<hr align="center" width="100"><a name="sect24"></a> -<br> -<br> -<div align="right"><small>For the Southern Literary Messenger. </small></div> - -<h4>TO A YOUNG CHILD.</h4> -<h5>BY D. MARTIN, <i>of Mobile</i>.</h5> -<br> -<table align="center" border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" summary="poem28"> - <tr><td>Thou hast a clear, unsullied brow,<br> - A bright and dreaming eye,—<br> - And a spirit free and chainless,<br> - As cherubs in yon sky!<br><br> - The meteor lights of intellect,<br> - Glance lightly on thee now,<br> - And play like fairy revellers,<br> - Upon thy parian brow!<br><br> - Well, be it so—and may thy life<br> - Be like a summer stream,<br> - That sparkles into gladness,<br> - Beneath the sun's bright beam.<br><br> - May thy brow ne'er wear the coloring<br> - Of passion's stern commotion,—<br> - Which darkens many a God-like one,<br> - While on life's stormy ocean!<br><br> - May the sunny hours of childhood<br> - Be the last to pass away,—<br> - And the setting sun of life's dark night,<br> - Dawn on a brighter day! -</td></tr> -</table><br> -<br> -<br> -<hr align="center" width="100"><a name="sect25"></a> -<br> -<br> -<div align="right"><small>For the Southern Literary Messenger. </small></div> - -<h4>CUPID'S SPORT.</h4> - -<table align="center" border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" summary="poem29"> - <tr><td><small>"Am I in fairy land?—or tell me, pray,<br> - To what love lighted bower I've found my way?<br> - Sure luckless wight was never more beguiled<br> - In woodland maze, or closely-tangled wild."</small> -</td></tr> -</table> -<br> -<p>Some where in Virginia, and in a certain year,—but I beg you will not -inquire when or where, for you will break the thread of my discourse, -and I shall be compelled, like corporal Trim when he was rehearsing -the Lord's prayer before my dear uncle Toby, to begin at the -beginning, at every interruption,—there lived a young man, in a -certain town—</p> - -<p>Now my dear reader, do you suppose I intend telling you a story -without a single name, date or place in it? If you do, I am afraid you -would see me at Kamschatka, or in Simms' hole, before you would make -up your mind to travel one inch with me, or listen to one syllable.</p> - -<p>Well, then, in a <i>certain</i> place, and at a <i>certain</i> time, as young -<i>Timothy</i> was sitting in the cool evening's shade, musing o'er the -events that human life befall, and reflecting upon the many ups and -downs he must necessarily encounter during the residue of his life, -that <i>old</i> heathen god, who, paradoxical as it may appear, is still as -<i>young</i> as he was at the day of his birth, I mean sly Cupid, who was, -is, and ever will be a boy to all eternity, happened to have been -snugly perched upon a branch of the very tree under which our friend -was reclining, and the little urchin sat pluming his variegated wings, -and feeling the points of his keen feathery arrows, preparing for his -evening's sport.</p> - -<p>Poor Tim! how little did he dream he was the subject the young god had -selected for as merry a frolic as ever fortune smiled upon in her -merriest mood. Tim was in his twentieth year,—"a leal light heart was -in his breast," he knew not the cares and anxieties of the world, nor -had he yet encountered fortune's frowns; he had enjoyed a full portion -of her smiles and blandishments, and his life had flitted along like a -gay summer's dream. He had yet to learn that all his castles were but -air built and fanciful, and it was necessary he should plod a little -upon his mother earth. Tim was none of your dashing thorough-going -bloods, who soar aloft with the eagles of the day, ever and anon to -pounce upon some harmless pigeon,—nor was he one of your gig and -tandem boys,—flourish and dash,—tinsel and paint,—who whirl about -for a season, and are all the go while the chink or the credit lasts, -but who, finally whirl off to jail, or into obscurity and -insignificance, nobody knows where, and nobody cares when. He was a -mild, pleasant, merry-making fellow. As for his person,—my dear miss, -you must excuse me; I know from your looks, you are curious to know -whether he had black hair and black eyes,—or light hair and blue -eyes,—or red hair and grey eyes,—but, really, I can't tell -you,—certain it is, he had eyes and a nose, and</p> - -<table align="center" border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" summary="poem30"> - <tr><td><small>"When he happened to grin,<br> - His mouth stood across<br> - 'Twixt his nose and his chin."</small> -</td></tr> -</table> - -<p>There he lay, all defenceless, on his right side, (I like to be -particular,) with his clean white roundabout, and his waistcoat -unbuttoned, both thrown carelessly over his left arm; there lay his -heart, gently swelling and subsiding and he unconscious of its -undulating flow—while Cupid—I was about to say, while Cupid's keen -eyes were penetrating its inmost recesses, and eyeing it as a hawk -some sunny perch in a limpid stream,—but, alas for Cupid—the -ancients have interdicted the use of his eyes; nevertheless, on the -present occasion, it is necessary for my purposes that Cupid should, -at least, take the bandage from off his eyes, and the ancients to the -contrary notwithstanding, I do maintain that the sly god has as -beautiful a pair of eyes as ever were seen,—yes, and he is able to -change them at his pleasure. At one time, he appears with the mildest, -softest, kindest, clearest, heavenly blue eyes;—at another, with the -keenest, blazing, and yet the blackest eyes that ever flashed wit, and -eloquence, and expressing all the passions that the heart ever darts -through its open portals. All eyes are his, of every hue and every -form,—and at this moment, he was using as playful and as devilish a -pair, as ever bewitched and enchanted a trembling maiden. He sat -quietly selecting the most mortal parts of that defenceless heart, -with bow well strung, and barbed arrows, and ever and anon, he placed -the winged messenger to the string and twanged his silver bow. Cupid -sometimes but tips his arrows' point with a poison, as rapid in its -action and as efficacious as the most powerful prussic acid, and wo to -the youth or the maid who feels the deadly pang; at other times, he -slightly dips the barb, and leaves it to time and circumstances to -develop its potent influence. On the present occasion, having smitten -poor Tim with a double portion, away he flew, to practise his wiles on -other subjects. Gentle reader, you are now introduced to our young -friend Tim,—you have seen him in a condition worse than that of -Daniel in the lions' den, and whether he is delivered or not your -patience will enable you to discover. Would that I could have -interposed a shield to protect the youth, but what the fates decree no -mortal can prevent,—and you know, what is to be, happens for the best.</p> - -<p>Have you ever seen a lady setting her cap for a beau? This is an every -day occurrence, and yet how difficult to explain, though ever so easy -to perform. It is one of those things that delicate fingers alone can -accomplish or pourtray. For my part, I have seen, and heard, and -thought, and talked much and often of these caps, that, nine times in -ten, are no caps at all, and yet the exact method of setting them is -not to be described. Were I to describe the lady's habiliments, you -would have not the least idea how her cap was set,—were I to dwell -upon the peculiar cut of the cap itself,—its points or its quillings, -its trimmings or its laces, and how it was placed, whether on the tip -of the head, or down upon the ears, or a little to one side, or -square,—or round,—it matters not, you would still be wide of the -mark; but yet, when the "cap is set," there is no mistake in the matter.</p> - -<p>Good reader, you are not acquainted with my little Mary. She had as -happy a knack of setting a cap, as ever a lass had since the days of -mother Eve, and on this very evening, she will appear with it set to -such advantage, that all the family servants, as she passes them, will -utter an involuntary "umph—u—u!"—Can you conceive the peculiar -sound here vainly attempted to be embodied—for of all utterable -exclamations it is the most exhilirating to a miss in her teens. If -you cannot:—know, that it signifies, "I tell you what, young massa, -you better steer clear." Little Molly is not the greatest beauty of -the age, nor yet the loveliest flower that ever bloomed, but she was -pretty enough to make Cupid's little arrows rankle in Tim's -susceptible heart, and fate would have it, that they should -accidentally meet, some how or other, wherever they went. She had a -peculiar way of her own, of fixing on a bonnet,—a little gipsy -bonnet,—down the sides of which, hung her long flaxen ringlets, and -where she parted her hair on her forehead, there was carelessly pinned -a half blooming moss rose, behind which sat Cupid laughing in his -sleeve. I say carelessly pinned, because it seemed as though it -mattered not whether 'twere there or not, and yet, more care had been -used in giving it its particular position, than all the rest of her -dress,—and perhaps, after all, this was "setting her cap." Tim had -never seen little Molly look half so sweet before, and when his eyes -and her's would meet, there was a sensation created that thrilled -through his every fibre; to him, that rose bud seemed to be instinct -with life and animation, and Cupid's laughing eyes and smiling face -made every leaf "a heart quake." Tim had been thought to be brave, his -comrades always looked up to him as a leader in daring enterprizes. -Men have been known to walk up to the cannon's mouth when the gunner -stood with the lighted match within a few inches of the powder, but to -storm a rose bud, manned by Cupid, on so polished a brow, required a -dare-devil spirit that human nature shrunk from,—and though Tim would -have given the world to have touched that bud, he could not have -advanced his finger an inch towards it by any possibility. This first -symptom of the operation of Cupid's arrows but few have escaped. You -would give the world to approach the loved object, and yet a touch -would create a shock as violent as that from a Leyden jar, well -charged with the electric fluid. Little Molly's was what would be -termed a laughing face, her clear blue eyes were lighted up by a mind -vivid and playful; cheerfulness and contentment were conspicuous on -her brow,—but yet she was one of your real mischievous little imps, -who knew a thing or two, and was up to all kinds of tricks,—in truth, -she used to say of herself that she had a little devil in her;—now -don't be alarmed my good reader; I don't mean the evil spirit who -roams about, seeking whom to devour—"that tailed, horned, heartless -chiel,—the very deil,"—but, she had a way of practising so many -little artful, innocently wicked things, and they were done in so -artless a manner, that though you would think from their effects his -satanic majesty alone was the guilty perpetrator, yet you could not -help loving his highness the more for his misdeeds. Of all things in -the world, she seemed to derive most pleasure from practising her -playfulness on friend Tim, and at every successive effort, Tim would -only exclaim, "surely the devil's in the girl! what in the devil does -she mean?" Tim had better have suffered the devil to go about his -business—but no, he kept inquiring what in the devil the girl meant, -till Cupid had him, head and ears, neck and shoulders, heart and soul, -body and life, as safe a prisoner as ever was incarcerated in a -dungeon's darkness. Little Molly was perfectly innocent of any -intention to entrap our friend; nothing was further from her thoughts; -she only intended at the outset to gratify her disposition for fun, -and she knew no more the state of her own heart than if she had been -deprived of that throbbing, thumping, turbulent member; but when -kindred hearts often sport together, and kindred eyes often meet with -kindred glances, kindred throbs will beat, awakening kindred feelings, -which some little flaxen haired, clear, blue eyed lassies find truly -difficult to obliterate.</p> - -<p>Reader, dost thou expect me to give thee in black and white my hero's -courtship? Of all the things in the world, the most tame and insipid -are lovers' courtships,—it may be the most interesting, animating, -soul-stirring, thrilling courtship that ever mortal breathed, but -canst thou enter into the feelings and go along with the heart in its -gentle outpourings? 'Tis not words, sentences, nor ideas, clothed in -the dress of fancy, or robed in imagination's best attire. 'Tis the -look, the touch, the action, that constitutes the universal language -of love none can misunderstand.</p> - -<p>I must take thee my good friend, (for we must be friends who are -travelling so cosily together,) and place thine eye at a key hole, -where "you shall see what you shall see." Alas poor Tim! I have been -watching thy movements; thou evidently knowest not what thou -doest,—instead of reading as thou wast wont, thou hast been serving -thine apprenticeship to that <i>manufacturer</i> Cupid! Of all the epithets -that ever were applied to a heathen god, none can be more appropriate, -though I say it who should not, than this epithet bestowed by me upon -Cupid.—Cupid a manufacturer? Yes, a manufacturer. Whenever you see a -poor fellow sweating over the fire, filing, and stretching, and -polishing rings, carving hearts and diamonds, and the like, you may -set it down that Cupid is teaching his apprentice the first rudiments -of his art,—for he is the master workman who superintends the -manufacture of all such invaluable tokens, and teaches the how, and -the where, and the when, they are to be distributed and bestowed. You -are now seated at that key hole; I have told you what has been Tim's -employment, make the best use of your eyes, and tell us what you see. -Who ever saw a fellow try on a ring in that way before?—putting the -ring upon the fore-finger?—the rogue knows as well as you do, that -that little ring will not go over the first joint of that finger, but -then it is so pleasant to try, the finger is so soft and white. Trying -it on the middle finger?—he knows that the ring will not go over the -nail, but that finger is so tapering, how could he avoid it. Had it -been you or I, we should have placed it at once on the ring finger, -and there would have been an end of the matter,—but look! the fellow -is trying it upon the little finger—that finger is so little, and -some how or other, so lonely, he feels for it a tender compassion. A -little finger look lonely when in company with three fingers and a -thumb? Aye,—lonely,—and its little nail is so thin you may see the -blood circulating under it, and of all things to see the blood flowing -fresh from the heart, so delicately tinged, is——The fellow has -slipped the ring on, is gently squeezing the whole hand, and "has -raised his wistful eyes to heaven,"—and little Molly has gently -tapped him on the cheek with her fan, as much as to say "you rogue."</p> - -<p>Get away from the door, my good friend, you have now seen as much as -we bargained for: and my dear miss, you are curious to know what -conversation passed all the while between Tim and little Mary; I'll -tell you: there did not pass one solitary word, but two little hearts -were in as much of a flutter as ever was made by a flock of -partridges, springing from their cover.</p> - -<p>By this time Tim had become grave and sentimental, and oh! if you ever -heard music!—morning, noon, and night, there was the most incessant -fluting,—fluting,—fluting. It was all of that soft die-away kind, -you would have thought that Tim's soul was melting away and softly -escaping through his flute. His heart, too, had undergone as thorough -a change as that of the silk worm transformed into the fluttering -moth. His mind was etherealized: instead of the humdrum, commonplace, -prosing thoughts he once indulged in, his imagination now soared -aloft,—he was dwelling amid the heights of Parnassus, his soul was -drinking in the nectar of poesy and revelling in the ambrosia of -fancy. You may talk of the pierian spring as the fount of knowledge; -you may invoke the muses from their heavenly habitation, and Apollo -and Minerva may attend in their train, but unless Cupid's arrows have -drank of the heart's blood, tinging the sources of the mind's -impressions, poesy will still be steeped in Lethe's wave, and never -spring into life's gay morn. Now, every thought is dressed and -ornamented, and oh! the fantastic flights!—oh! the soft mellow -pastorals,—the country life, the blue vaulted arch unspotted with a -cloud—nature, simple and gay; there she is, sweetly clad all -beautiful and fresh—aye, and the loved one!—pearls and gems, and -diamonds, and roses, and lilies, and stars, and suns, and firmaments -in splendor glowing, and "could the busy bee but taste those lips, -he'd quit his hollow domes to revel 'mid the sweets upon that hallowed spot."</p> - -<p>As for little Molly, she, too, had undergone a metamorphosis, she who -was wont to play so many "tricks before high heaven," who loved to -play them off upon poor Tim, better than on all others, had grown so -shy, you would have sworn she hated the very sight of him. In the -company of others, when Tim was present, she scarcely opened her -mouth,—to him, she scarcely ever spoke,—of him—no word of -remembrance broke from her lips,—you would have thought he was -obliterated from her mind; but more could be read by these two in a -single glance of the eye, than volumes could express. As for me, I'd -rather have the sensation produced by one of those stolen glances than -be made a king. In such a situation, I would not be compelled to talk, -by all the racks of the inquisition—silence is delight. But at such a -time, to be bored with one of your real clatter, clatter, jabbering, -never ending, incessant talkers, is the most horrible purgatory. Poor -Tim was just in this situation. Little Molly had a noisy, officious -cousin, who, he thought uglier than the veriest hag that ever shrank -and shrivelled into stringy nothingness, and yet the girl was comely -enough. She had taken it into her head, that her cousin Mary hated the -aforesaid Tim, and therefore kindly volunteered to rid her of so -troublesome a companion; and in consequence of such sage surmises, -never failed when Tim paid a visit, to intrude herself among -them;—and oh the clatter!—Tim's heart sank within him—he came not -to talk!</p> - -<p>My dear young miss, whoever thou art, that seest these lines, let me -advise thee as a friend, to take thyself to thine own apartment, and -remain in solitude the balance of thy life, rather than interfere in -these critical moments; for you may rely upon it that thou art hated, -contemned, abhorred and despised to a degree that is truly sinful. -Thou art cursed with ten thousand more curses than ever Dr. Slop -poured upon the head of luckless Obadiah.</p> - -<p>Gentle reader, (for thou must be gentle to have travelled with me so -far without wincing, and yet have heard so little,) can you tell me -how it is that when a man is in love, however rambling and roving his -disposition may have been before, as soon as he is fairly caught, he -becomes from that moment confined to one solitary route. Let me -explain myself,—for I have been carefully noticing our friend Tim. He -and little Molly lived in the same town, but at a considerable -distance apart, and yet to whatever part of the town Tim was called, -he was as certain to pass by little Molly's house as he was to pass -out of his own door. For instance, he would go to the post office, and -from the frequency of his visits, you would have supposed he had more -correspondents than all the merchants of the place put together, and -while the post office was up town, little Molly's was down town, and -yet he invariably went down town by little Molly's to get up town to -the post office. One might suppose that Tim expected to see little -Molly at the windows, but she was not one of your starers, who employ -themselves in gazing at the comers and goers, and I'll venture to say, -that in six months, Tim never saw her once, and yet go in what -direction he might ultimately intend, go down town in the first place -he must,—and he experienced more pleasure in passing that house than -in eating his breakfast or his dinner.—This is a species of -hydrophobia that I will leave you to think on and cure.</p> - -<p>These incidents had occurred—these symptoms had been made -manifest.—In the mean time two years rolled onwards.—Tim was in his -twenty-second year, and little Molly in her eighteenth.</p> - -<p>One day as Tim stood ready with his hat in his hand to take his leave -after an interview,—it had been a long and hopeless one,—looking -wistfully at her, he said energetically and in a voice deep toned—"It -is the <i>last</i> time I will ask. If you are in earnest, I go forever!" I -listened, but could not hear the reply. There was a pause. Perhaps, -nothing was said. I thought I heard a kiss. I may be mistaken, but -certain I am, that instead of hearing Tim leave the house, I heard him -walk rapidly to the table, and throw down his hat. When I again saw -him,—the pensive, musing, meditative Tim was the merriest fellow that -ever cracked a bottle.</p> - -<p>When a man has had his hat in his hand, and with a wo-begone -countenance has risen to make a final adieu, under the impression that -he is utterly discarded and despised, and suddenly resumes his seat -with such evidences of change of purpose; we generally presume he has -obtained the liberty of hanging his hat up, which is tantamount to -obtaining the liberty of the domicil, and is what I should call the -gentleman's setting his hat, in contradistinction to the lady's -setting her cap.</p> - -<p>Day after day, go when you would, and peep into that passage, you -would find Tim's new beaver hanging upon the same hook, and these two -young innocents sitting side and side, cheek and joke, feasting on -each others' eyes.</p> - -<p>Tim would sometimes talk of the future, and develop his little schemes -for their mutual happiness; but if ever he touched upon that most -delicate of all subjects, the ascertainment of the period when their -two hearts were to be linked indissolubly together, all the delicacy -of the female character would instantly be aroused, and little Molly, -in a playful mood, would sing out "time enough yet, time enough yet."</p> - -<p>Matters remained in this unsettled condition, our friend Tim still -enduring the same uncertainty, living in that half delightful, half -vexatious state which totally unfits a man for any occupation, unless -it be "breathing soft music through a mellow pipe." Our friend thought -more than once 'twas time these scenes should be ended: accordingly he -determined to inform his good mother of his happy prospects, as a -prelude to his future movements. Many ineffectual efforts were made, -but it was a delicate business. How to commence these soft narrations -has puzzled more heads than one. He had given the old lady repeated -chances to help him out, by sly hints and inuendoes, but she would -never perceive what he was driving at. The truth was, she had selected -in her own mind a most eligible match for her son, and she could not -believe he was so blind as not to discover its advantages. Money was -the foundation upon which that edifice was to be erected; but Tim, -poor fellow, belonged to an ill-fated family. Not one of his ancestors -had ever married other than a poor girl, from the remotest antiquity, -and he had a sentimental notion of such affairs, that would forever -exclude the idea of his marrying a rich one, whatever other -qualifications she might possess.</p> - -<p>At length, Tim succeeded in getting his mother safely cornered, the -door shut and no one else present. Walking backwards and forwards for -a minute or two, he stopped suddenly, as if he was about to commence. -The old lady was knitting away by the fire. Instead of commencing, Tim -walked to a chair as if he was about placing it close along side and -stating the whole case like a man; but turning about, he deliberately -sat the chair in the corner and folded his arms.</p> - -<p>"Mother," said Tim, and then he cleared his throat. "What, my son?" "I -have been thinking whether it would not be better to have our old -house painted?" This was a new idea, one that never had crossed Tim's -mind till it was uttered, and as it happened, 'twas not an -inappropriate one. "But, my child, it will answer very well as it is, -for such an old body as I, and if you begin to paint, you will be -compelled to furbish up every thing else." "But, mother, suppose I -should think of courting some young body?" "Oh, if you will fall in -love with my little favorite, you can afford to paint and furbish -too." That was a chord Tim had heard struck before to-day. "Suppose -<i>she</i> wont love me, and somebody else will." "Faint heart," said his -consoling mother, "never won fair lady." The old lady was off upon the -old track; but Tim having fairly begun, was not to be so easily -baffled this time—so taking up his chair, he walked deliberately to -the fire and seating himself, placed his feet upon the fender.</p> - -<p>"Mother," said Tim, "it is time I should tell you that"—rap, rap, -rap,—tantarara, bang—rang the old brass knocker at the outer door. -"See who is there, my son." Hang all the world thought Tim—shall I -never have an opportunity of telling the old lady? Tim took no candle -with him to the door. "Who's here?" "Harry, sir." "Well, uncle Harry, -what do you want?" "Mass Tim, Miss Mary send her complements, and tell -me give you dis letter." Tim ran his hand into his pocket and gave old -Harry a bit of silver. "I reckon," said Harry, who began to think Mass -Tim and he were old cronies, "I reckon young Missus dont send letters -to young Massa for nutting." "Wait for an answer a moment, uncle -Harry," said Tim kindly. "Who's at the door, my son?" said the old -lady, as Tim returned, holding an open letter in his hand. "A servant, -madam," was the reply. "What," said Tim to himself, as he walked to -the candle, "does my Mary want?"</p> - -<p>Good reader, while old Harry is waiting at the door in the best humor -in the world, because he had the good fortune to be the bearer of a -<i>love letter</i> as he shrewdly suspected, from his young mistress to so -good a young gentleman, and while the good old lady is knitting away -and thinking how to induce her son to fall in love with <i>her</i> -favorite, if thou wilt follow my example, thou mayst perceive what is -going on for thyself. Thou seest that I am about to take a sly peep -over friend Tim's shoulder, and if thou wilt peep over the other, thou -mayst discover what otherwise thou wilt never have an opportunity of -perceiving.</p> - -<div align="right">"<i>Saturday Evening</i>. </div> - -<blockquote>"M<small>R</small>. T<small>IMOTHY</small> W<small>ILBERFORCE</small>.</blockquote> - -<blockquote>"Can Mr. Wilberforce forgive and forget one who has injured him much? -Oh! how I reproach myself for having given you hopes, my friend, that -can never be realized. Mr. Wilberforce, you must forget me; and oh, -can you not attribute my strange conduct to my youth? I am so young -and thoughtless. Indeed, I would not willingly give you pain. Can we -not continue friends? I hope we may, but indeed you must forget the -promises I have made you, and if possible forgive me. I find I do not -love you as I ought. Let us be friends, but nothing more.</blockquote> - -<div align="right"><small>MARY</small>." </div> - -<p>Tim had seen his mother watching his countenance while he was reading: -so putting on a smile, "Is that all? Pshaw, I thought it was something -important," said he, going to the outer door. "Harry, there is no -occasion to wait—no answer is necessary." Slam went the door. The -bolt rang with a double turn. The letter was wadded in his breeches' -pocket. "Who was that letter from, Tim?" said his mother. "A young -friend has asked me to go serenading with him," replied honest Tim. -Down he sat, with his feet upon the fender, and his arms folded over -his breast. Then seizing the poker,—punch, punch, punch—you would -have sworn it was freezing. Every coal was upturned—the room was -filled with dust and smoke. "My son, it is not very cold to-night." -Tim kept stirring the fire. "Did you desire to have the old house -painted, Tim? If you wish it, my son"—"madam?"—"You were saying, -Timothy, that you were about to tell me something?" "Did I?" Down went -the poker, and Tim paced the apartment.</p> - -<p>My good friend, were you in such a situation, what would you do? Only -think of that rap at the door at such a moment—of the contents of -that <i>love</i> epistle—of that dear uncle Harry! For my part, I shall -ever believe as long as I live, that there is something in names, and -that none but a very old Harry Scratch himself could have been charged -with such a scrawl. What would you have done? Tell the old lady the -whole matter? What! with all those contending, conflicting -feelings—passions—hopes—blasted and utterly destroyed! As for me, I -think a man would be <i>almost</i> excusable if he had walked -premeditatedly to his razor case and cut his throat. Tim did no such -thing. He walked to—bed.</p> - -<p>Will you be so kind as to explain to me, why little Mary—our sweet, -innocent, flaxen-haired little Molly, who was as much in love as ever -lassie was, should have acted thus strangely? You who pretend to -fathom the profundity of human motives and to ascribe proper causes -for every action, will you unriddle this enigma? But the day before, -she was as kind, as affectionate as usual, and in every way the same -to Tim. From this time forward, too, she was as friendly as any other -friend; and yet, as indifferent as if their hearts had never beat in -unison—as if their eyes had never read the inmost thought of each -others soul—as if their lips:—to me and to Tim, it is utterly -inexplicable.</p> - -<p>Time—old father time—flies with his mowing scythe. This is the -account the ancients give of the matter, but I have a notion that we -should as well exclaim, time—old doctor time—flies with his healing -balm, cicatrizing every wound; for if it was not for doctor time, -Cupid might be more appropriately represented with his sickle -gathering in his harvest; but time with his "balm of Gilead," or some -pleasing draught, manages to cure many a bleeding heart. I thank thee, -good doctor, thou hast come "with healing under thy wings," more than -once to me.</p> -<br> -<br> -<hr align="center" width="100"><a name="sect26"></a> -<br> -<br> -<div align="right"><small>For the Southern Literary Messenger. </small></div> - -<h4>MY CLASSMATES.</h4> - -<h5>By the author of the "Extract from a Novel that will never be -published."</h5> -<br> -<p>There were two among my companions at College with whom my intimacy -was particularly close. They differed much from each other, as I did -from them, in character and mental powers, but we were from the same -state, viz. Virginia, although from different parts of it; and the -presence of each of us spoke to the others of our distant homes, and -formed a tie that bound us closely together. There is besides, a -strong local attachment, separate and distinct from national feeling, -(a peculiar one, as far as my observation extends, in our country,) -pervading the native born inhabitants of that state, particularly the -eastern and southern section of it, which draws them like brothers -together when abroad. However reserved a Virginian may be to others, -his heart immediately opens to one who possesses the same birthright -with himself; and for him, if called upon, he will encounter pecuniary -inconvenience and personal risk. I have known many instances of this -feeling. But to my tale. The elder of us three, by name Morriss -Heywood, was one of those beings on whom has been bestowed the -fearful—almost fatal gift of genius. He stood pre-eminent among us -all, towering in intellect, piercing the veil of truths hid from our -dimmer eyes, revelling in the gardens of imagination barred to our -dull and every day capacities. While we with pigmy steps and slow, -crept along the paths of knowledge, urging our toilsome way with many -a groan, he pressed forward with a giant's stride, and left us a -sightless distance in the rear. His disposition too was noble as his -mind. Generous beyond the bounds of prudence—brave to the verge of -rashness—ever ready to afford assistance to those who required it—to -promote their welfare, and to condole with, and partake of their -grievances. Like most persons of extraordinary powers, his temper was -unequal. At times gloomy and abstracted, shunning all communion, -avoiding all recreation, abstaining from exercise and almost from -food,—he would bury himself in the seclusion of his chamber, devoting -day and night to intense application; then sated for a time with his -"deep draught" at "the well spring of science," he would come among us -full of life and gaiety, the soul and promoter of every frolic, -breathing into us the spirit of his own warm heart, robing common -things with the hues of his own bright fancy, and lighting up the very -regions of dulness with the quick and brilliant flashes of his wit. -The grave professors regarded him with amazement, and some of them -even with fear; for sometimes in the spirit of mischief, he would -sport with their heavy and useless learning, and puzzle them sadly -with the subtleness of his inquiries,—leading them unconsciously into -the mazes of metaphysical absurdities, and then leaving them with a -quibble or a jest to pick their way out as they could, floundering at -every step, and conscious of the ridicule they incurred. My other -friend, Charles Drayton, had no peculiar characteristic that calls for -present description. He had ordinary intellect, great application, a -kind but not a warm heart, and a disposition to submit to legitimate -authority; for all which, when we were graduated, he was rewarded with -some fifth or sixth rate honor. The busy pursuits of life soon -separated me from them after our departure from college. They -commenced the study of the law, while I doubting my powers to succeed -in the learned professions, and naturally inclined to an active life, -turned my attention to commerce, and in the course of business, was -called on to leave "my native land" to sojourn in a far distant one, -and my return was not until after an absence of many years. During -those years of labor and various fortunes, my time and talents devoted -to one ruling object, the acquisition of wealth, (but not, I trust, -influenced by sordidness, or ever induced to employ unworthy means,) -my communications with home had been very rare, and of my early -friends I had received no tidings; but often after reposing from the -toils of the day, when the bustle of occupation was hushed, and the -wearied mind revolted from following up the many schemes of -aggrandizement that so constantly taxed it, memory would roll back to -those halcyon days of my youth, and the images of Heywood and of -Drayton would be mirrored in freshness to my fancy, while I busied -myself in conjectures as to their probable fate and fortunes. Were -they still among the living? Had Heywood fulfilled the promise of his -early youth, and climbed with vigorous step</p> - -<center><small>"The hill, where fame's proud temple shines afar?"</small></center> - -<p>Had the perseverance of Drayton won for him wealth and respectability -in his profession? More he could not attain to. And amid their busy -struggles, did they ever recur to the friend who was absent, with the -same deep feeling that dwelt in his heart for them?</p> - -<p>After many efforts, sometimes crowned with success, and often, very -often marked by adversity, fortune at last smiled upon them, and -placed me in a situation (as I was alone in the world,) of comparative -wealth. I wound up my affairs as speedily as possible, and embarked -for home. My voyage was prosperous: once more I trod the free soil of -the United States of America, and bent my way without delay to the -town of ——, where first I drew my infant breath. It was evening when -I reached it. I found it much altered, enlarged and improved; but -around me were many a memorial of the times gone by;—and as the -slanting rays of the setting sun threw their purple and gold on the -broad summit of the well remembered hills, and played in ever changing -beauty on the ripple of the chrystal stream, I seemed borne back from -the present, when Time had furrowed my brow and sprinkled his snows -upon my hair, to that past, when the smooth forehead and the curly -locks, the long loud laugh, and the joyous leap, were tokens of the -happy boy. In passing along the main road leading to the town, I had -observed at some little distance from it, a very large and handsome -brick edifice, in the midst of highly cultivated grounds, where -formerly there had stood a very indifferent wooden building, on a -neglected farm, the property of an idle and dissipated gentleman. It -was very foolish to do so, and yet I uttered a half sigh at the -change; for although the present state of things was infinitely more -agreeable to the eye, it struck coldly on my heart and jarred the -chord of cherished associations. When I had fairly established myself -at the "best inn," and answered as I pleased, all customary inquiries -as to who I was, whence from, where going to, and numberless other -impertinencies, I commenced querist in turn, and the information I -then and subsequently obtained from other quarters, I am now about to -lay before the reader. Both of my college friends after obtaining -their licenses, had removed to my native town, which then offered the -best field in the state for the practice of the law. Heywood had, as I -was sure he would, commenced his career at the bar with signal -success. His very first appearance, his maiden speech, had given him a -station far beyond his youthful competitors, and indeed among the -foremost ranks of those who had grown gray in their vocation. He had -been entrusted, with others, in the management of a case of great -difficulty, and involving property to a large amount; and in the -examination of the witnesses, had exhibited a knowledge of human -character, and a power to discover and elicit truth, that in one so -young and so unpracticed, seemed absolutely marvellous; while his -familiarity with the abstruse points and technicalities of the law, -appeared as close and intimate as if he had spent years in acquiring -it. He was regarded as a prodigy, and indeed he was one. I have seen -many men in many climes, but never have I met with Heywood's equal in -native genius; and then the godlike mind with which he was endowed, -was set forth and enhanced by a corresponding face and figure. His -stature was tall and his bulk in proportion, but there was no -clumsiness. His limbs were</p> - -<center><small>"Heaped with strength, and turned with elegance;"</small></center> - -<p>His presence was lordly, with his statue-like brow, crested with short -dark curls, the Roman nose, the sharp cut lips, and the full large -pellucid eye, in which "the lightning played." His was</p> - -<table align="center" border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" summary="poem31"> - <tr><td><small>"A combination, and a form indeed,<br> - On which, every god had seemed to set his seal,<br> - To give the world assurance of a man."</small> -</td></tr> -</table> - -<p>One thus gifted was eagerly sought after, and while business poured on -him from all quarters, his society was every where courted. The -presence of Heywood was an indispensable requisite to any meeting -whose object was pleasure. Nor did he refuse it, or hold himself aloof -from the amusements sought after by others. He could be gay with the -gay, and sedate with the grave, and without an effort; and even in the -midst of what may be termed dissipation, none had cause to complain -that their affairs entrusted to his care were not faithfully attended -to and ably managed. Thus did he go on increasing in usefulness and -reputation, and men looked forward to the time when he would rank -among the master spirits of the day, and perhaps reach the highest -honors his country could bestow. Indeed a new career had now been -opened to him, which promised to lead to such a result. He had been -chosen to represent his county in the state legislature, and there as -at the bar, his success was immediate and brilliant. To him it truly -seemed</p> - -<table align="center" border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" summary="poem32"> - <tr><td><small>————————"an easy leap,<br> - To pluck bright honor from the pale faced moon;"</small> -</td></tr> -</table> - -<p>and, (to follow up the quotation,) he might fairly hope</p> - -<center><small>"To wear without corrival all her dignities."</small></center> - -<p>Such then was Morriss Heywood; in years a youth, a man in wisdom—the -possessor of genius, health, reputation and beauty; his career as yet -unchecked by a single obstacle—his hopes undimmed by the shadow of a -fear. There resided at that period in the county of —— an -individual, who, by a long course of unremitting industry and the most -grinding parsimony, together with less honest, if lawful means, had -amassed an overgrown fortune; and having money at command, had -contrived by lending it to the neighboring farmers, (generally -improvident men,) and exacting high interest for its use, taking -mortgages on their estates as security, to make himself the real if -not nominal owner of half the landed property of the county. Having it -at his will at any moment to strip many of their possessions, he was -vested with a power that (although in their secret hearts all men -detested him, and execrated his very name,) challenged opinion, and -made dangerous as regarded him its public expression. It so happened -that one of those gentlemen on whom his gripe was fixed, and whose -debt, from an originally small sum, had swelled with usury until it -covered his whole estate, had been a patron and valuable friend of -this man, who was originally his overseer—had established him in the -business with which he commenced his career, and aided him both with -money and his name. It is a well established maxim, which hard -experience has gathered from human intercourse, that you insure -yourself an enemy when you bestow a benefit on a bad man. A noble mind -may find an obligation burthensome, and be galled by the sense of -dependence created by it. This feeling, however, does not destroy -gratitude to the benefactor; but the mean and unprincipled hate those -who give to them, from the consciousness that there is an utter -dissimilarity of character between the giver and themselves. It -grieves them that any should possess a virtue which they have not; and -the performance of a good action, even although they themselves are -its object, is gall and wormwood to their souls, from the secret -knowledge that they are incapable of doing the same. This violence of -hatred which the wicked, without apparent motive, entertain for the -good, is forcibly pourtrayed by Shakspeare, (nature's magician, who -applied his "Open Sesame" to that dark cave the human heart, -penetrated its recesses, and explored its most secret nooks,) when he -makes Iago give as a reason for desiring the death of Cassio,</p> - -<table align="center" border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" summary="poem33"> - <tr><td><small>"He hath a daily beauty in his life<br> - That makes me ugly"——</small> -</td></tr> -</table> - -<p>The feelings engendered in the heart of Willis, (for that was the name -of the usurer,) by the kindness of his benefactor, were envy and -bitter hatred. Envy, that he possessed the means to be generous; -hatred, that having them he was so. But his heart rejoiced when he -reflected that this very generosity would betray itself; and as he -counted his own increasing gains, and became acquainted with the -diminished and decreasing resources of his friend, he foresaw the time -would come when their relative situations would be changed—when the -patron would in turn become the suitor, and be dependant on his former -menial's bounty. The time did come. A small loan was requested, and -granted with cheerfulness. "The spider" as Heywood afterwards said, -"had spun his first line." Then came a demand for a larger sum, which -was raised with a pretence of great difficulty. Another thread was -wrapped around the body of the victim. Slowly, silently, cautiously, -these tiny lines were drawn, with a touch so light, that they were not -felt until the web was fully formed—the prey secure—fluttering and -struggling in the toils,—but vainly struggling; for those little -threads had been plied and twisted into a cord of strength to bind the -unshorn Sampson.</p> - -<p>Of all the galling miseries that man is heir to, the most intolerable, -the most debasing, the most corroding to the heart, the most -destructive to the mind, is the consciousness of debt without the -means of payment. Oh! what days of humiliation, what nights of nervous -wakefulness, or else of dreaming horror, does he abide, on whose -oppressed spirit is laid the load of payments he cannot meet, of -obligations he cannot cancel. For him, though the sun shines abroad, -there is no beauty in his beams. The earth is clothed with verdure, -and a thousand odorous flowers are scattered in his path. He heeds -them not; their perfume is wasted on him. The moon rides in liquid -lustre, and the myriad stars break forth in light, and the whole -heaven is clothed with exceeding glory; but there is a darkness in his -soul no light can penetrate—a grief at his heart no beauties of -nature can assuage. His energies are dead; they fester beneath the -pall of despair.</p> - -<p>When at last every inch of his property was covered by debt, and the -remorseless creditor was about to strip and turn naked on the world, -him from whose hand he once had fed, kind death stepped in and -released the poor old gentleman from his troubles; and what he himself -was too honorable to do, his heirs did without hesitation. They -resisted Willis's claim upon the plea of usury. Heywood was their -advocate. Fired with indignation at the base ingratitude of the man, -he summoned all the powers of his eloquence against him, and so -awfully severe was the attack, that Willis, although in general bold -and impudent, slunk away from the court amid the hisses and groans of -the crowd. The very next day, to his utter amazement, Heywood was -waited on by Willis, who placed in his hands business of great value, -and paid him down a handsome fee.</p> - -<p>"You see, Mr. Heywood, I can forgive and forget, as bad as you think -of me, and as much as you have abused me. The fact is, sir, you are -what I call a real clever man, and to my notion the best lawyer I've -met with—so you're the man for my money; and I suppose if I pay you -your fees, you'll do my business as soon as another man's—and I can -make it worth your while, I tell you. You said yesterday, I was a -vampire bloated with the lifeblood sucked in secret from the veins of -my victims. I remember the words, but not in malice. Well sir, when I -see fit I can bleed pretty free myself; and if you'll just consider -yourself my lawyer in all my cases, I'll pay you fifteen hundred a -year, and say done first."</p> - -<p>"Mr. Willis," replied Heywood, "I have no hesitation in accepting your -offer, and will to the best of my ability serve you, as I would any -other individual who called upon me. It is my trade, or profession, to -advocate that cause in which I am retained; and although I rejoice -when I find I am on the right side, I have in common with my brethren, -no scruples in doing battle on the wrong."</p> - -<p>And so they parted. It may perhaps be thought unnatural that Willis -should have acted in the way he did; but he was a shrewd, worldly wise -man, and could make any sacrifice to promote what he deemed his -interests. Now he had not forgiven, much less forgot. On the contrary, -his hatred of Heywood was deep and concentrated; but he knew him to -possess talents that were formidable when opposed to him, and on which -he could with safety rely when enlisted in his behalf.</p> - -<p>The transactions of business necessarily carried Heywood to his -client's house, where one day being detained until the dinner hour, he -was introduced to Miss Louisa Willis, an exceedingly beautiful and -interesting lady of about eighteen. He was much struck with her, and -indeed it was impossible for the coldest disposition to withhold its -admiration from charms seldom surpassed, and then in the very fulness -of their bloom. With a form over whose round and soft proportions -hovered an atmosphere of the most soul subduing voluptuousness, she -was the possessor of a countenance, whose features in themselves -almost faultless, habitually wore the bewitching expression of -confiding love; as if for all she looked upon, there existed in her -bosom a living spring of kindness; and the consciousness of her own -deep charities, taught her to expect a like return from others. She -was the adopted daughter of Willis. Her parents, poor but highly -respectable people, died while she was yet an infant, having been -carried off within a few hours of each other, by one of those -pestilential fevers that sweep whole districts of our country, and -leave in their path the silence of death or the sob of mourning -anguish, where the sounds of merriment had been wont to break upon the -ear. Willis was alone in the world. There was no human being connected -with him by the ties of consanguinity: there was not one whom he had -propitiated by the exercise of kindness: and although the -consciousness that he was hated only served to harden and imbitter his -feelings, there were moments when he felt the loneliness of his -situation, and longed for something that even he could love.</p> - -<p>He took the little orphan to his home, and in her found the object he -had sought. Upon her he lavished all his bounty—bestowed upon her the -best education the capabilities of the country afforded—and at a -proper age, placed her in an eligible seminary in the city of ——, -whence indeed, at the time of Heywood's first interview with her, she -had just returned.—Perhaps the disposition of Miss Willis—that of -great sweetness with very little energy or passion, was particularly -calculated to win upon such a man as Heywood. Himself all passion, -burning with the consciousness of uncommon powers, urged into action -by the ever goading stimulus of a brain that teemed with strong and -beautiful thought,—now breaking out into commanding eloquence—now -running over with sparkling wit,—it was enjoyment to him to find -repose in another. His mind self taxed to its utmost limit, was -refreshed, and soothed, and solaced by the calm and even purity which -dwelt within that form of intoxicating loveliness. Perhaps with -persons constituted like Heywood, the same ardor of passion might be -exhibited towards any object, "in whose fresh cheek" they might "meet -the power of fancy;" perhaps their glowing temperament would vest with -beauty both of mind and person, those who to common eyes had nothing -to distinguish them. Be this as it may, it is certain that he loved -Miss Willis, deeply, devotedly, ardently—with tender delicacy and -with manly passion. Whether his feelings were reciprocated by her, to -the extent of which she was capable, it is not for me to say: that -secret lies within her own bosom. Heywood thought so. He was constant -in his attentions to her, which seemed to be well received, and were -certainly encouraged by Willis. The only annoyance Heywood -experienced, arose from his feelings towards the latter. Greater -familiarity with his character had not, it is true, increased his -abhorrence of it; perhaps it had diminished it;—for as the visual eye -becomes accustomed to look without winking upon the disgusting and -even the terrible, so does the mental, and sad to say, the constant -recurrence of deeds of vice, lessens the sense of detestation which -they at first inspired. But there was something very galling to his -pride, in the idea of connecting himself in so close a manner with -Willis as he must necessarily do, if he married his daughter; only his -adopted daughter, it is true: but still in no action that could evince -a parent's fondness and a parent's care, had he been wanting to -her—and he was unquestionably entitled to a full return of that -affection that might be looked for from a properly disposed child; and -as certainly did he receive it from Miss Willis, whose respectful love -for him was without stint or measure. The struggle between pride and -passion, seldom eventuates in favor of the former, particularly where -our feelings are uninfluenced by the effect our actions may produce -upon the minds of others, and have no reference to a <i>degrading</i> -change of situation that may be produced on us in society. Heywood -might by marrying Miss Willis, excite the sneers of the unsuccessful -and the envy of the disappointed; but he would not be the less loved, -esteemed and respected by the great bulk of his acquaintance, while by -many it would be thought a fortunate circumstance; for in the event of -their obligations falling into his hands, they might look for an -indulgence it were vain to hope from the ruthless usurer. Heywood, as -might be expected, yielded to the suggestions of his heart, and -proffered his affections to Miss Willis. She of course referred him to -her father; and with much embarrassment and hesitation of manner, -Heywood announced to him the fact, and solicited his approbation. He -received the information with a smile of peculiar meaning, of -gratification—but apparently of malicious gratification, as if he -were about to win a triumph he had been long seeking to obtain. He -said but little however in reply, nor was that little, discouraging or -otherwise. He professed himself honored by the proposal, coming as it -did from so distinguished an individual.</p> - -<p>"To be sure," he said, "Louisa Willis was not an every day sort of -girl, and she might fairly look for as good offers as any lady in the -country. She had that, or she would have, which was all the same, that -would command them. It commanded every thing else, <i>he reckoned</i>, even -talents. She was young enough too, and likely enough, for the matter -of that, and he had had other views for her. Hows'ever, there was no -hurry—he would see about it; he must have some little time to think -before he made up his mind: when he had, he would let Heywood know -what it was."</p> - -<p>To talk to such a man of the urgency of one's affections, was -ridiculous. Heywood felt it so, and therefore made no objection to the -delay.</p> - -<p>It was about a month after this interview, during which interval there -had been no communication between Heywood and Willis, that the latter, -accompanied by another individual, a Mr. ——, entered the office of -the former. They had called for the purpose of explaining their mutual -understanding of the nature of a conveyance which was to pass between -them, and to request him to draw it out in proper form. He accordingly -made a rough draft of it, read it to the parties, who expressed -themselves satisfied, and Mr. —— took his leave, with a promise to -return and execute the deed when the fair copy should have been made -out. Willis remained behind. After a few minutes silence, (of -torturing silence to Heywood, for he expected he should now receive an -answer on the subject nearest his heart,) "Mr. Heywood," said the hard -featured old man, "let me see that deed." Heywood disappointed, handed -it to him. He conned it over attentively, as he sat with one elbow -placed upon his knee and his chin resting in the hollow of his hand.</p> - -<p>"It is all right?" said Heywood inquiringly.</p> - -<p>"Why—ye-es," replied Willis, "but there are one or two little words -here I would like to have changed; that is, I would like to have some -others put in their place. It's of no great consequence, but somehow -they please me better."</p> - -<p>"What words are they? Be so good as to point them out."</p> - -<p>"Why these," answered Willis, as he shewed them with his finger, and -peered into Heywood's face, over his spectacles, with half closed -eyes. "Suppose now, instead of them, you <i>was</i> to use <i>such</i> words," -and he mentioned those he wished adopted.</p> - -<p>"But sir," rejoined Heywood, "these words that I have used are -technical words, and express in a legal sense what I understand most -positively to be the intention of the parties. Were I to substitute -for them those that you propose, I should make the granter convey a -title it is by no means his wish to do."</p> - -<p>"Pray, Mr. Heywood, are you acquainted with Mr. ——, and do you -consider yourself employed by him or me?"</p> - -<p>"I am but slightly acquainted with Mr. ——, sir, and it matters not -to me by which party I am employed. It is my business as an honest -man, to execute to the best of my ability, what I consider myself -intrusted by both to perform, and that I have done."</p> - -<p>"Then let me tell you Mr. Heywood that I know —— well, that he has -not had quite as much as either you or I to do with deeds, and that if -you make the alteration I want, it's a hundred to one he will never -find it out to the end of time—so where can be the harm?"</p> - -<p>"You surely jest with me, Mr. Willis," quickly answered Heywood; "you -cannot seriously propose to me to do that, which according to my view -of the matter, would be neither more nor less than a legal fraud."</p> - -<p>"A fraud, sir! do you mean to say <i>I</i> would commit a fraud, sir?" -cried Willis, in an angry tone and blustering manner.</p> - -<p>"I have not said so, Mr. Willis," calmly replied Heywood; "I only -said, that with my knowledge of the law, <i>I</i> should commit one were I -to do what you request."</p> - -<p>"Well then," urged Willis, "suppose you let me go for Mr. ——, and -have the alteration made before his eyes. Will that satisfy your -squeamishness?"</p> - -<p>"Certainly, if Mr. —— consents to it, and is made fully aware of the -situation in which he thus places himself."</p> - -<p>"But <i>you</i> aint no ways bound to tell him that."</p> - -<p>"Pardon me, sir, I am every way bound to do so."</p> - -<p>"Very well, sir, very well, we'll drop the matter then—I don't care -much about it; only you aint as much <i>my</i> friend as I thought you -was—that's all. But let that pass, it don't signify no great deal. -And now Mr. Heywood, for what you would call a more interesting -subject." Heywood's heart beat quick. "You told me t'other day you -loved my daughter, and would like to marry her. Now, sir, suppose you -had a daughter, and you could afford to give her as much as would make -the best men in all the land snap at her—and suppose there was one -man who despised you in his heart, though he was willing to work for -your money, and who had abused and insulted you in the public court, -and refused to befriend you, in a small way, when you wanted his -friendship, and <i>he</i> of all men in the world was just to pop up and -say, Give me your daughter and a fortune,—what would you say to him? -Would'nt you tell him, certain, and thankee to boot, sir? Would'nt it -please you to the heart to have a son-in-law, who if he could help -himself, would'nt speak to you when he met you, nor shake hands with -you, if there was any body by to see him do it? Now just answer me -that, Mr. Heywood; you're a mighty ready man with your bills and -answers—answer me that if you please."</p> - -<p>"Mr. Willis," stammered Heywood, "this is not—a fair way to—treat -me."</p> - -<p>"Aint it? Now I think it is—so there we differ again; any how it's my -way, and I can afford to have my ways as well as most folks. -Hows'ever, since you don't seem to fancy those questions, I'll try -again. Do you <i>really</i> love my daughter, for herself alone mind you, -and will you marry her if I tell you, and I am in earnest, that if you -do, you never shall, nor she either, touch a farthing of money or an -acre of land that belongs to me."</p> - -<p>"Most readily, most willingly, and think myself but too happy in -maintaining her by my own humble efforts."</p> - -<p>"Money is not a thing to be despised, Mr. Heywood, and it would be a -heap of it I can tell you, and as you partly know, that you would be -giving up; you'd better think again."</p> - -<p>"This is not a matter of reflection and calculation with me, sir. It -is a feeling deep and durable, and I cannot hesitate to choose between -what I esteem my happiness and my misery. With her, portioned or -unportioned, I shall be happy—without her, though Croesus' wealth -were showered on me, I know I must be miserable."</p> - -<p>"Say you so, sir," shouted Willis, with an air of vindictive triumph. -"Then be miserable, for I would see her, gladly see her, and I love -her too, a rotting corpse in her winding sheet—or worse, a common -beggar in the public road, for all the world to spit on if they -choose, before you should call her wife. I am glad that you love her -too. If you loved her ten thousand times better than you do—if you -went mad for love, as they tell me some fools do, I should like it all -the better. I wanted you to love her, and I saw you would love her, -and I sort of encouraged you to do so, just that when you were fairly -fixed, I might have the satisfaction to tell you that you should not -have her; and now I think we're quits. You dared to tread upon me—to -flout me in the open court-house, before a whole crowd of people, when -you could have all the talk to yourself, and my mouth was shut and my -hands as good as tied. But my turn has come, and if I have'nt paid you -back, and with a stinging interest, my name is not Abraham Willis; and -so good morning to you. You need'nt write no notes, nor send no -messages to my daughter. She knows my mind, and she is satisfied with -it. She wants no man for a husband who has abused her father. Once -more, good morning to you." And with another of his demon like smiles, -he departed.</p> - -<p>Heywood remained as a man stupified, without change of position or -movement of a muscle, every feature rigidly fixed as if cut out of -marble, his whole appearance more like a breathing statue than a -living creature. Yet who shall say what torturing thought was pressing -on that brain—what stormy passions struggling in that bosom. Did the -uprooting of his heart's affection, the total prostration of his -hopes, the utter destruction of his anticipated bliss, smite him to -despair; or did his powerful mind confront the evils that beset him, -and although deeply wounded, rise in triumph from the conflict? It is -only by the effects we can judge, and these to common observation were -not remarkable. It is true, he resigned his seat in the legislature, -and altogether withdrew himself from social intercourse, and save when -necessitated by his professional duties, rarely left the solitude of -his rooms. There his time was devoted to study; not confined to the -acquisition of legal knowledge, but of literature in general. He -collected about him a noble library, and made himself master of its -contents; but though he heaped up knowledge such as few possess, and -added daily to his mental stores, it was even as a miser gathers pelf, -to gloat upon the heap in private, but impart to none its benefits. -Still, although he thus secluded himself, when he did appear abroad, -there was nothing of gloom about him, or marked reserve in his manner -to his fellow men. He might even sometimes have been thought gay. He -would jest himself, and laugh at other's jests; but all this was but -"outward seeming." There was no joy of the heart—no "flow of -soul"—no living sympathy with mankind, teaching him to be glad when -they rejoiced, to sorrow when they mourned.</p> - -<p>There were none to whom he imparted his feelings, none to whom he -communicated his sentiments. On none of the usual topics of -conversation among men, whether of politics or literature, were his -opinions ever expressed—not even on legal points, unless when sought -for professionally. He lived strictly alone, concealing thought and -passion within the impenetrable recesses of his unfathomable mind.</p> - -<p>Here for the present I will leave him, to give a short account of -Drayton's career, connected as it is with the main interest of my -narrative.</p> - -<p>With the assiduity, industry and application for which he had been -distinguished at college, he pursued his professional studies; and -although denied the gift of eloquence, or rather I should say, -embarrassed by a slow and hesitating manner of speaking, it was -obvious enough that his knowledge of the law was sound, and that he -perfectly understood its application to the point he might be -advocating. If too, he lacked the graces of oratory, and could distil -no honied words into the ears of his auditory, he possessed that happy -manner, which imposes on society the opinion that there is a fund of -wisdom and learning to be drawn on, whenever the exigency of the case -might require its use. He had a serious, business like look, and if he -walked abroad for exercise, he seemed to have a deeper motive for the -action. His progress was nevertheless very slow in the commencement; -still he advanced by degrees, and his patience was inexhaustible. -Drayton had another advantage too, that to him amply compensated for -the want of purely professional business, and even the glitter of -fame. A relation had bequeathed him a few thousand dollars, and this -enabled him to make occasional advances to a needy client, where the -claim was eventually secure, and also to carry on a traffic in bonds, -exchanging one for another at a large discount, and thus in a short -time doubling his original capital. One or two lucky hits in land -speculation returned him large profits; and people beginning to find -out his merits, as they perceived these accessions to his worldly -wealth, in course of time his practice became respectable and -lucrative. Between Heywood and Drayton there continued the same -kindness of feeling they had mutually entertained at college, up to -some short time before the philippic delivered by the former against -Willis. But about that period a coolness grew between them. This arose -from no misunderstanding or quarrel, but simply from a dislike Heywood -entertained to the very obsequious manner Drayton exhibited towards -all men who were superior to him in private wealth or public station; -and the former could not refrain from telling him one day, after some -display of the sort, that he reminded him of Sir Pertinax McSycophant, -in the "Man of the World," who never in all his life could stand -straight "in the presence of a great mon." Drayton was conscious that -there was truth in the application of the sarcasm, and although he -made no reply, he was hurt, and thenceforth avoided one who could and -would tell him disagreeable truths. After the rupture between Heywood -and Willis, the latter transferred his business to Drayton, who -received from Heywood all the papers in his possession, with the -necessary information and instructions, which were given to him with -perfect freedom, and without the slightest manifestation of chagrin or -resentment. This perhaps was not exactly pleasing to him. He would -have liked on Heywood's part some small exhibition of a consciousness -that he was deprived of a considerable advantage.</p> - -<p>"This should be a valuable business I have had the good fortune to -fall into, Mr. Heywood," said he; "Mr. Willis's concerns must be very -extensive, and require much legal advice, as well as other matters in -our way. I fear he will be hardly content with my poor management, -after the able assistance he has derived from you."</p> - -<p>"You will certainly find the business profitable," replied Heywood; -"Mr. Willis pays liberal fees, and it depends upon yourself to make -larger gains than I have done. I congratulate you on having obtained -it."</p> - -<p>"I suppose I shall be so unfortunate as to have you opposed to me -occasionally, and if so, I trust you will not be quite so hard on my -poor client as you once were," said Drayton with an insinuating smile.</p> - -<p>"Circumstances, sir," answered Heywood, "have put it out of my power -to speak of Mr. Willis as I think of him. You need entertain no -apprehensions for your <i>poor</i> client; he is safe at least from my -invective."</p> - -<p>Some few months after this conversation, rumor babbled of the -particular attentions paid by a certain lawyer, to a very wealthy -young lady, and in the course of a year, the babble was confirmed by -the marriage of Charles Drayton, Esq. to the all accomplished, &c. -Miss Louisa Willis. Drayton was now become a very wealthy and of -course a very influential man. He was sent to the legislature, then to -the state senate, thence to congress, and finally having been created -a judge, he took up his residence near —— on a farm given him by -Willis, where he built the handsome brick house, I had observed on my -return home. Two or three days after I had fixed myself at ——, I -fell in with Drayton, whom I found much altered. He had grown quite -fat, and had a very justice-like rotundity of body. His manner was -kind enough though somewhat pompous, and he had the air of one who was -on especial good terms with himself. I dined with him and was -introduced to his family, consisting of his wife and four children; -the eldest, a handsome lad of seventeen, the others girls, the -youngest about eight years old. Mrs. Drayton, was very pale and -apparently in bad health. I endeavored to converse with her, but found -her little disposed to talk. Willis was there. He was a tall, lean -man, with very sharp features—small grey eyes somewhat inflamed, and -almost hid by long bushy, wiry eye-brows, a pinched, sharp pointed -nose, thin, pale lips, much drawn in and compressed, and a projecting -chin. He endeavored to assume ease in his manners, but his vulgarity -was very apparent. There were two other gentlemen of the neighborhood -there, and on the whole, my time was not spent so pleasantly then, or -afterwards, as to induce me to repeat my visits often, although I -occasionally called in as an old acquaintance of the master of the -house. Heywood's name was of course, never mentioned there. I once did -make some inquiries of Drayton, when only he and I were together. "Ah -poor fellow, yes," said he, "he has been absent from —— for some -time, went up the country to his brother's, who I hear is lately dead. -Heywood turned out badly sir with all his genius,—thrown himself -completely away—no prudence—ruined himself to pay his brother's -debts, and took to drinking—little better, if any, than a common -blackguard." "So much for early friendship," thought I, as I turned -away in disgust.</p> - -<p>The marriage of Drayton to Miss Willis seemed not to affect Heywood; -if he felt, his feelings were perfectly concealed. When he met -Drayton, he congratulated him on the event, without the slightest -awkwardness or embarrassment, although the former exhibited much of -both; to all appearance he had entirely conquered his ill fated -passion. His studies, however, became more and more intense, and his -seclusion closer than ever. He scarcely eat or slept, and took no -exercise. He gave up the practice he had hitherto pursued in the -adjoining counties, and confined himself to that of the one he lived -in. This mode of life could not fail to injure his health. He grew -pale and thin, and experienced great languor: to remedy the latter, -instead of resorting to the only proper mode, a change of habits, he -applied to artificial stimulants for temporary relief. They naturally -increased the evil, by leaving behind them when their momentary -excitement had worn off, a greater degree of depression than they had -been employed to remove. He was probably aware of this, but he changed -not his course. On the contrary he increased the dose, and repeated it -the more frequently, until gradually his libations amounted to -intoxication, which after a while became daily. This, at first, was -confined to the after part of the day, but by and by he was frequently -found in an unfit state for business, by those who called upon him in -the morning. Still, so great was his reputation as a lawyer, and so -powerful were the displays he made when he appeared at the bar, that -men continued to employ him, although they were put to the -inconvenience and expense of associating other counsel with him, who -would attend to the minutiæ and drudgery of their cases. About this -time, his brother (whom I did not know,) a careless, extravagant man, -with a large family, became entirely insolvent, and the farm on which -he lived was exposed to sale. Heywood became the purchaser, for the -wife, and nearly exhausted his own means in doing so; for though he -had received large sums of money in his profession, and might with a -little economy, have been very independent, if not rich, he had not -retained much of his hard earned gains, and money had never been to -him an object of solicitude. Besides, his library had cost him no -contemptible fortune. By degrees, as the vile and fatal habit he had -acquired, grew upon him, he became more and more unfit for business, -and his clients were reluctantly compelled to abandon him, and -transfer their cases to others. Finally, (what he had never done -before,) he was compelled to run in debt. He raised money on his -books, a paltry sum in proportion to their value; that was soon -exhausted, and they were forced off at auction at an enormous -sacrifice. Hitherto, his intemperance had been confined to the privacy -of his chamber, but now he commenced frequenting taverns, where he was -frequently to be found in a state of beastly drunkenness.</p> - -<p>When I arrived at —— he was absent, as Drayton stated, at the -brother's whom I have mentioned, and did not make his appearance for -several months. One evening as I returned from my accustomed walk, I -entered the bar-room of the inn where I lodged, for the purpose of -making some inquiries of the landlord. A man was sitting at a table, -with his back towards me. He was dressed in a rusty black coat, -coarse, dirty, white trowsers; shoes and stockings that were covered -with the dust of the road, and a worn out straw hat, around which was -a piece of ragged, soiled crape. I naturally took him for some common -vagabond, and paid no farther attention to him, but commenced my -business with the landlord, who was standing at the bar door with a -pint decanter of common whiskey in his hand, intended, no doubt, for -his <i>genteel</i> looking customer; who, growing somewhat impatient at the -delay I occasioned by my conversation, called out in a hoarse voice, -"Mr. Tomlins, do you mean to bring me that liquor or no? I tell you I -am dying of thirst." "Certainly, sir," said Mr. Tomlins. "Excuse me a -moment, sir," addressing me, as he proceeded to the table with the -spirits, a pitcher of water and a glass. The man poured into his glass -about a gill of spirits and drank it off at one gulph, taking a little -water after it,—and then, without stopping, proceeded to take a -second dose. I gazed at him with mingled emotions of contempt and -pity. The landlord touched me on the arm. "You have frequently -inquired of me, sir, about Mr. Heywood; that is <i>him</i>." "Great God!" I -exclaimed aloud, "that Heywood?" He turned immediately on hearing his -name, and I hastened to him, extending my hand. "You are familiar with -my name, sir," he said, "and act as if you had a claim upon my -recognition, but I have no recollection of your countenance."</p> - -<p>"Have you entirely forgot then, your old friend S——."</p> - -<p>"S——," he exclaimed, and he rose and took my hand in both of his, -and gazed with earnestness some moments in my face. "Thirty -years—yes, thirty years have fled since last this hand was clasped in -mine. They are nothing in Time's record, but much to us poor, -three-score-and-ten mortals, and they have shown their power on us -both. S——, my friend, for <i>you</i> were my friend, and I loved you even -with the warmth of a brother's love, I look in vain for the marks by -which I once knew you. The fair cheek of youth, the laughing eye, the -bold, self-confiding air, have fled. Age is a sad destroyer of good -looks, is it not? It has not been over lenient with me; but never -mind; our hearts are filled with hot blood yet, though sometimes I -think mine is growing cold: it will be cold enough by and by, and -yours too, S——; the more's the pity, for there are men, my friend, -and you are one, who should never die; they should live to redeem -mankind from the charge of utter selfishness; to save this Sodom and -Gomorrah of a world from the curse of an outraged and offended -Heaven."</p> - -<p>"Heywood," said I, interrupting him, "come with me—come to my room; I -have much to say to you, and this is no place for it; I cannot talk to -you here. Come where we will be private and uninterrupted."</p> - -<p>"Not now, not now; I have just got here, after walking all day, for I -am compelled to take exercise on foot for the benefit of my health as -well as from poverty;" and he smiled bitterly. "I am fatigued and -soiled with dust, and unfit for conversation."</p> - -<p>"These are paltry excuses between friends—I cannot admit them. What! -be thirty years apart, and when we meet have five minutes conversation -in a public bar-room. That will never do."</p> - -<p>"Well, well, then, allow me a little time to step to my room, and I -will join you in an hour at farthest." This I could not refuse, -although I parted with him with very great reluctance, as from the -avidity with which he swallowed the spirits in my presence, I was -apprehensive he might render himself unfit for rational conversation. -There was a dreadful change in his appearance. I have described him as -a remarkably handsome man, both in face and person. He was no longer -so. I found him much emaciated, though his features were bloated; his -hair was entirely gray; and in the place of the freshness and manly -ruddiness of complexion for which he had been distinguished, his -countenance was overcast with a sickly yellow hue; and those eyes, -once so clear and expressive, were bloodshotten and dull. Age might, -and would, no doubt, have made an alteration for the worse in his -looks; but the prime agent in the destruction I witnessed, was -habitual intemperance. That insatiate fiend, on whose bloodstained -altars reeks the sacrifice of myriad hetacombs, whose worshippers, in -the frenzy of their zeal, yield up all that is valuable in life; the -world's respect, health, fortune, fame, domestic ties, their present -good, their future hope; and whose reward is racking disease, infamy, -an early and dishonorable grave.</p> - -<p>Before the appointed time, Heywood returned. He had undergone a -purification, which somewhat improved his looks, and he bore no -evidence of having increased his potations. We had a long, and to us -highly interesting conversation; but Heywood was not the man he had -been; the mind—that glorious mind had suffered in the wreck. It is -true he was occasionally eloquent, grand in his conceptions, pouring -out burning thoughts, and exhibiting amazing knowledge; but there was -a want of solidity and continuity in his discourse, and there were -abrupt starts from deep pathos, when he touched upon his situation, to -a wild and reckless jocularity that made me shudder. I had determined -in my own mind, difficult and delicate as I felt the task to be, to -strive to the utmost to reclaim him. It was a sacred duty devolving on -me as a friend; it was a conscientious duty belonging to me as a man; -and I felt if I could turn such a being from the path of evil, and -lead him once again to the high and honorable station he was by his -talents so eminently entitled to, it would be a deed whose reward even -here would be inappreciable, and might plead against a thousand errors -at the judgment seat of a righteous God. It required great tact, -however, to approach the subject, for his sensitiveness was very keen, -and I knew if I offended him there, I should lose my hold upon him; -therefore I waited until he himself should give me an opportunity of -entering on the subject. None occurred that night. Occasionally, as I -have said, he would advert to himself and his present miserable -situation, but in such a manner as deprived me of courage to speak -upon the subject. At one time he observed, when Drayton's name had -been mentioned, "It is somewhat strange S——, that man seems to have -been born to supplant me. Who would have thought it? The quiet, easy, -dull Charles Drayton, to supplant Morriss Heywood! Why, in the -exuberance of my youthful vanity, I should have thought my wings beat -an atmosphere too refined and rare, to sustain his heavy weight; that -my eyes looked unwinking on a light that would have seared his duller -optics. And yet he reached me, and he passed me. And while I descended -in rapid whirls, until I grovelled in the very dust, he sustained his -flight and held aloft his station. Yes, he supplanted me in my -profession—supplanted me in public life—supplanted me in love. Ha! -ha! ha! It is a strange tale to tell. What would our college mates say -to it? What <i>does</i> the world say to it? I know what it says. No -matter,</p> - -<table align="center" border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" summary="poem34"> - <tr><td><small>'They can't but say I had the crown;<br> - I was not fool.'</small> -</td></tr> -</table> - -<p>And yet I was a fool, a miserable fool; but as it is a great approach -to wisdom to know our own weakness, I am in a fair way to become a -Solon, and should not be surprised, if ere long, public honors were -decreed me. They must hurry them tho', or it will be to my senseless -ashes they will bow, and hang their laurel wreaths upon my urn. But it -grows late, my friend, and I must leave you. We are neither of us the -boys we were, when we could stare the rising sun in the face, as he -peeped upon our protracted revels. We will meet again soon." "Soon!" I -exclaimed; "yes, tomorrow; I have not exhausted the half of what I -have to say to you." "Faith, I have given you but little chance," said -Heywood; "I am in truth a sad talker. Good night, or rather morning, -for 'methinks I scent the morning air.'" And he left me, not without a -promise however, with difficulty obtained from him, that he would join -me at dinner on the morrow. He was punctual to his engagement, and I -was much pleased to find that he was free from all artificial -excitement. After we had dined, and I had discussed my usual allowance -of wine, (in which Heywood did not join, alleging that it did not -agree with him,) I proposed to him to take a stroll, for I felt as if -I could make the effort I had determined upon, with more ease in the -open air, than when seated in a small room <i>tete a tete</i>. After we had -cleared the skirts of the town, I commenced making my approaches from -a wary distance, to the subject I was anxious to enter upon. "To-day -was the first of the sitting of the superior court for this term, I -believe, Heywood; were you there?"</p> - -<p>"No, not I; what should I do there? I have always made it a rule not -to thrust myself into a place where I have no business."</p> - -<p>"Have you entirely given up the practice of the law?"</p> - -<p>"No, but the practice has entirely deserted me."</p> - -<p>"How happened that? I have heard your legal attainments spoken of in -terms of the highest praise."</p> - -<p>"I neglected it, as I have neglected every thing else; health, -reputation, my obligations to society, and my duty, if not my -reverence to God. This is a painful subject, S——; let us quit it. If -I dwell upon it, it will unman me, and I shall then break through a -resolution I this day made, and fain would keep."</p> - -<p>"Will you tell me what that resolution is?"</p> - -<p>"I had rather not;</p> - -<table align="center" border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" summary="poem35"> - <tr><td><small>'Be innocent of the knowledge,<br> - Till thou applaud the deed.'"</small> -</td></tr> -</table> - -<p>"Heywood! will you let me act towards you as one friend should act -towards another?"</p> - -<p>"How? in what way? explain yourself."</p> - -<p>"It is in your power to be all you have been—nay, more; for many men -rise to eminence, but how few when once they have sunk, have energy -and firmness to regain the proud height from which they fell. It may -be a work of time to you—it must be one of unbending resolution; but -with such a mind and such attainments as your's, it will require -nothing more. In the meantime, you shall not be harassed by debts, nor -tortured by poverty. I have means, my friend—ample means; wealth -beyond my hopes or wishes. It is useless to me, for my habits are -frugal, and my expenses do not reach a fourth of my income. I will -place in your hands the requisite sum to free you from all -incumbrance, and enable you to pursue the plan I propose; and it shall -be a debt between us, to be repaid when you are once more in -prosperous circumstances. If this place be disagreeable to you, remove -to some other; I will accompany you: all places now are the same to -me. Do this Heywood, I conjure, I implore you; and you will confer on -me a degree of happiness which nothing I have ever yet compassed could -equal. What say you?"</p> - -<p>"I say as Nero said—'It is too late.' You speak of my mind and my -attainments. It must be plain to you as it is to me, that whatever -that mind may have been in the flower of my youth and the pride of my -manhood, it is now weakened, broken, dropping to decay; and what -avails knowledge, learning, the deep research into ancient wisdom, the -unwearied study of modern science? When the judgment that should -direct their use is fled, they become a pile of worthless lore. No, I -am a lost, degraded wretch—a mockery and a byword—</p> - -<table align="center" border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" summary="poem36"> - <tr><td><small>'A fixed figure for the time of scorn<br> - To point his slow, unmoving finger at.'</small> -</td></tr> -</table> - -<p>There is nothing left for me but to die and be forgotten."</p> - -<p>"Heywood, you do yourself injustice. A steady course of life, as it -will remove the cause of your depression, (for your mental malady is -nothing more,) so will it the effect, and I feel confident that it -requires but exertion to regain all you have lost, and even to surpass -your former excellence. Come; be a man. Call your philosophy to your -aid—rouse from your lethargy, and start once more upon the race of -honor." He placed one hand upon my shoulder, and pointed forward with -the other: "Behold," he said, "yon blasted pine; its giant limbs have -been snapped in twain, and its lordly trunk clove from the summit to -the root by the forked lightning,—while around it in the green hues -of health, full of pride, vigor and beauty, are congregated its -glorious brethren of the forest. Bid that stricken tree drink in the -life sap, shoot out its rough red boughs, clothe them with their -feathery foliage, erect its noble crest, and stand once more -pre-eminent in loftiness and grace; and what would be its answer, as -its shattered body creaks to the passing breeze? 'There is no other -spring for me.' And that reply is mine. Therefore torture me no more; -for it is torture to me to recur to the past, or dwell upon the -present. <i>One</i> favor I will ask of you. When I am dead, and I feel a -certainty that time will soon arrive, if you are near and survive me, -bury me in some private place, and do not raise even a mound, much -less a stone, to mark the spot; but let the grass grow over and -conceal it—for even as lonely and obscure as my latter days have -been, so would I have my grave. Will you promise me this?"</p> - -<p>"I will—I do," I replied, much affected.</p> - -<p>The remainder of our walk was passed almost in silence; and when -Heywood left me, which he did immediately upon our return to town, he -pressed my hand to his heart, and sobbed, "God bless you."</p> - -<p>The next day upon my inquiring for him, I found he had left town early -that morning, saying that it was uncertain when he should return. This -I regretted extremely; for although disappointed in my first attempt, -I was not without hopes I might still succeed in bringing him back to -the paths of virtue and of honor, from which he had so unfortunately -strayed. I determined at all events to remain where I was until I had -again seen him, and make another appeal to his friendship and his -pride. Days and weeks passed however, and he came not. It was now the -latter part of the month of May; the weather was delightful. I got -tired of the solitude of my chamber, and walked out to enjoy the -balminess of the air and the freshness of nature, as yet unscorched by -the ardent beams of the summer sun. I took the road that led to -Drayton's, and when I reached his gate, paused, as I had many a time -before, to admire a noble oak that formed one of the gate posts. This -splendid tree was at its base full five feet through, and its trunk -shot up a height of forty feet before it gave out a branch. Thence its -boughs spread out to an immense distance, forming a canopy over the -road, beyond the opposite side of which they extended, and mingled -with those of the trees growing there. It looked like a patriarch of -the primeval forest, and seemed destined to stand while all around -might decay. I sauntered along a mile or two, until I reached a -favorite and secluded spot, well known to me when I was a boy, and -which remained unchanged, while all else was changed or changing. -There I seated myself on a moss covered rock, under the shade of a -thick leaved birch, and while the bright waters rippled at my feet, -passed in review before my mind some of the scenes of a busy and -adventurous life. About an hour had elapsed in this pleasing -melancholy of reverie, when I became conscious that a change had taken -place in the weather. The refreshing breeze had died away, and the air -become close and sultry, with that heavy suffocating feeling I had -observed in high southern latitudes, as the invariable precursor of -the coming hurricane. I made what haste I could to reach my home, -which was full three miles distant, by the shortest path I could -choose. I reached the upper part of Drayton's enclosure, where there -was an open field on either side, and paused as well from fatigue, as -a desire to ascertain whether I could probably outstrip the -approaching storm, or should be compelled much against my inclination -to seek for shelter at Drayton's abode.</p> - -<p>As I looked up, I perceived that the heavens were embossed with dark -clouds that hung heavily in the atmosphere, scarcely moving their -stations, or varying their forms, so completely stilled was the -breeze—not a leaf trembled on the slenderest twig. Presently, on the -extreme verge of the horizon to my right, a small, jagged cloud arose, -that rested as it were a moment on the summits of the trees, and then -darted high up the sky and emitted a brilliant flash of lightning, -accompanied by a quick, sharp crash of thunder—as if this had been a -signal summons, from all quarters of the heavens, seemingly by -voluntary impulse, the hitherto inert vapors rushed with eagle speed -to the spot, like mailed warriors to the battle field; concentrating, -and condensing their huge forms into one, vast, deep, substantial -looking body of impervious gloom, heaving to and fro with a mighty -sound, like unto the rush of liberated waters that have broken down -their rocky barrier. As I gazed in horror on this awful sight, there -gradually descended from the centre, mass on mass of clouds, as if -enormous folds of blackest velvet had been lowered down, narrowing in -their descent until they almost formed a point: and then amid the -lightning's incessant flashes, and the music of its own appalling -roar, that drowned the loudest thunder; and the groans of the forest, -as its mightiest trees were uprooted, or twisted from their stems, as -a child would break a straw; the tornado marched on its appointed path -of desolation. No words, at least none I can command, avail to -describe its horrid majesty, its incalculable power. It was as if the -very demon of destruction had clothed himself in robes of hellish -grandeur, and came in the pride of his unimaginable strength, to strew -with ruins the world's fair orb, and revel amidst his fiendish sport. -I have in the course of my journey through life, encountered many a -peril, and looked on many a sight that might strike the coward with -despair, and blanch the cheek of the bravest. The appalling cry of -fire has broken upon my ear, when my bark was rolling in the midst of -the wide spread ocean, and the apparent choice was to leap into the -wave, or perish by the flames. I have been with a crew, when the match -was held by a resolute hand that would in an instant have hurled us in -the air, rather than become the prey of the remorseless pirate. The -storm upon the sea, the hurricane on land, and the terrors of battle -upon both, I have beheld; but never did there weigh upon my heart such -a feeling of unmixed dread, such a consciousness of utter -helplessness, as now—still, I was not entirely deprived of my -presence of mind—I was aware that the force of the tornado, although -it might be extended to many miles, would probably be confined within -narrow boundaries; and if I could ascertain its course, I might place -myself beyond its influence. At this moment, however, it was difficult -to conjecture to what point its fury would be directed: for as I have -said, it was a perfect calm; the winds seemed to be enclosed within -the lurid bosom of that horrible prodigy. Its approach was certainly -in a line towards myself, but how soon it might swerve from that -route, I could not tell; so that I dare not trust to flight. While I -stood thus hesitating how to act, a horseman passed me at full speed. -My attention had been so fully absorbed, and so deafening was the -voice of the cloud, that I had not heard his approach, and barely -caught a sufficient glimpse of the face to recognise it as that of -Willis, and that it was overspread with an ashy paleness. He had not -passed me a hundred yards, when as if by magic a strong wind burst -from the north west, encountered the tornado, and turning it from the -direction it had hitherto pursued, drove it obliquely in front of -Drayton's house at about a quarter of a mile from it, and immediately -towards the gate and the oak, I have spoken of. It now moved with -immense velocity from me, and feeling that all personal danger was -past, I could observe its appearance and effects with greater -accuracy. The interior of the lower part was illuminated by <i>flames</i>, -I may call them, of lightning; for so incessant and continuous were -the flashes, that they appeared as one; and I could distinguish in the -centre, large limbs of trees, and trees themselves suspended, tossed, -and whirled about like feathers. Its wake was defined by the upturned -ground, as if many ploughshares linked together had passed over it. -Whatever lay in its track was instantaneously destroyed. It drove full -upon the giant oak, and the forest Titan on whom many a storm had -harmlessly broken, whose noble head was scarcely bowed in recognition -of the furious gale, was wrenched, and severed from its trunk, and -dashed upon the ground; that trembled as it received the enormous -weight, as if an earthquake shook it. The destroyer passed on, and I -stood watching it, until its noise was lost upon my ear, and its form -had faded from my sight. Slowly then I bent my steps forward, mentally -returning thanks to a gracious providence, for my escape from so -imminent and appalling a danger. Suddenly, the recollection of Willis -rose upon me, and a strong presentiment that he must have been -overtaken by the cloud pressed upon my mind, and filled it with -horror. The presentiment was destined to be realized. I quickened my -steps, and as I approached the gate, I found the road so much impeded -by the broken boughs and scattered fences hurled about in every -direction, that I was compelled to make a considerable circuit in -Drayton's field, to enable me to overcome the various obstacles that -obstructed my passage. As I saw no trace of Willis, I began to hope he -might have escaped, although it seemed scarcely possible; at all -events, I thought it would be but proper for me to step to the house, -a distance of some five hundred yards, and see if he had arrived in -safety. I had, it is true, no respect for him, and perhaps his death -could scarcely be deemed a calamity; but he was one of the great -family of man, and what right had I to sit in judgment on my fellow -creatures?</p> - -<p>I found Drayton at home, standing at the front door, surveying the -ravages committed on his estate. He greeted me, and commenced a -harangue on the terrible phenomenon he had witnessed, which I cut -short by inquiring if Mr. Willis was within—"within! No he had not -seen him for several days." As briefly as I could, I then informed him -of Willis' passing me on the road, of the obvious danger he had -incurred, and requested he would accompany me with some of the -servants, with axes and other implements, that might be necessary in -prosecuting our search. He hastened to comply with the request, and we -soon set forward with some dozen assistants. We commenced our -disagreeable undertaking, at the gate on the lower side of the -prostrate oak, which lay obliquely across the road, endeavoring every -now and then, to peep through the confused mass of tangled and -shattered boughs that lay in heaps about us. Presently, one of the -negroes uttered an exclamation, and pointing with both hands, cried -out that he saw a man under the tree. We immediately gathered around -him, and looking in the direction indicated, could perceive not only -the object he had discovered, but also the prostrate body of a horse. -There was now little doubt that Willis had here met his wretched fate.</p> - -<p>The sun, which had come forth, was about an hour high, but we had -great difficulties to overcome before we could reach the spot, where -the body lay. One of the men was despatched to the house for further -assistance, and we soon had all the efficient laborers of the estate -at work; while the boys and women, whom curiosity brought there, were -employed in holding torches, for the evening shades had fallen, before -we got half through with our labor. At length, we succeeded in freeing -Willis's body from the superincumbent load that pressed upon it. Life -was totally extinct; his death had doubtless been instantaneous, for -his bones were broken in many places, and the scull driven in, until -its sides almost met. We hastily constructed a hand-barrow on which we -laid the mangled remains, and were about to move off, when one of the -boys came running to us from the wood on the opposite side to the -gate, and with terror in his looks, informed us there was another man -lying dead there. We hastened to the spot, which there was little -difficulty in reaching, for the individual lay just on the skirt of -the prostrate trees, and had probably been struck down by an upper -bough as it fell. His face was towards the ground, and his hands -outstretched. The back of the head had received a severe wound. We -gently turned the body over. My heart sunk within me and a faintness -came over my senses, as the light of the blazing torches revealed to -my view the pallid face of Heywood. I soon recovered, however, and -stood and gazed upon the features of the corpse, those features that I -had so often seen lit up with intelligence, now rigid in death. Those -eyes, whose piercing beams once reached the very hearts of men, and -gazed upon their secret motives, had lost their "speculation," and -those lips whose surpassing eloquence once filled his hearers with -deep delight, ruling them with a master spell; now rousing apathy into -action, now stilling passion in its wildest mood; were hushed in -eternal silence. Before us was the motionless form of clay, the -immortal spirit had ascended to its God. Both the bodies were removed -to the house. The remainder of that night, I sat by the corpse of -Heywood. The next day, I procured a plain coffin, and taking with me a -couple of assistants, proceeded to the place where I had reposed after -my walk on the preceding afternoon. At the foot of the birch tree we -dug his grave, and heaped the earth upon the coffin to the level of -the plain, and over it we spread the verdant turf: and there, in his -"narrow and obscure bed," sleeps the misguided son of genius; while a -splendid mausoleum marks the spot where the bones of Willis lie, and a -marble slab records his thousand virtues.</p> -<br> -<br> -<hr align="center" width="100"><a name="sect27"></a> -<br> -<br> -<div align="right"><small>For the Southern Literary Messenger. </small></div> - -<blockquote><small>The study of poetry has been to me its own exceeding great reward: it -has soothed my afflictions; it has refined and multiplied my -enjoyments; it has given me (or at least strengthened in me) the habit -of wishing to discover the good and the beautiful in all that meets -and surrounds me—<i>Coleridge</i>.</small></blockquote> - -<h4>STANZAS.</h4> -<br> -<table align="center" border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" summary="poem37"> - <tr><td>It is the Fall! the season now,<br> - Of rustling airs—of fading flowers;<br> - And Nature with a saddened brow,<br> - Sits brooding o'er her leafless bowers.<br> - Yet Autumn's reign was aye to me<br> - A season of felicity!<br><br> - I'm standing in a dark recess<br> - Of a vast, dim, primeval wood,<br> - And on me is the consciousness<br> - That springs from such a solitude.<br> - No sounds are nigh save those I love—<br> - No scene my heart's content to move.<br><br> - A streamlet, gushing from above<br> - Goes dancing past me wild and free,<br> - As the fond boy is said to rove,<br> - Commission'd by Love's Deity.<br> - But <i>he</i> in cities gaily flaunts,<br> - While <i>this</i> seeks only nature's haunts.<br><br> - And as it tracks the forest's maze,<br> - Through greensward alleys wand'ring wide,<br> - Affects not Folly's treach'rous ways,<br> - Nor looks to Fashion for its guide.<br> - How lulling to my sense its song,—<br> - As thus it sweeps its course along!<br><br> - The winds are also stirring now,<br> - In murm'ring tones, yon stately pine,<br> - Whose giant branches tend to throw<br> - A deeper shadow o'er this shrine—<br> - This nobler shrine than priest or king<br> - Is wont to use for worshipping.<br><br> - But lo! 'tis sunset—and the dew<br> - Is settling fast on herb and tree;<br> - Darkness will soon be shrouding too<br> - Each object in obscurity.<br> - My steps again I therefore turn,<br> - <i>To mix with man, and inly mourn!</i> -</td></tr> -</table> -<div align="right">* * * </div> -<br> -<br> -<hr align="center" width="100"><a name="sect28"></a> -<br> -<br> -<div align="right"><small>For the Southern Literary Messenger. </small></div> - -<h4>SONNET.</h4> -<br> -<table align="center" border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" summary="poem38"> - <tr><td>There is a splendour in these southern skies,<br> - Ofttimes at sunset, which I've nowhere seen,<br> - Wide as my range about the world hath been,<br> - Save on Italian shores; and there the dyes<br> - Have less of magic in them!—Who that tries,<br> - (Artist or Bard,) to paint such glowing hues<br> - As, in the west, mine eye this moment views,<br> - But must confess how passing far it lies<br> - Beyond his utmost skill?—High o'er my head<br> - A blue intense fades into purplish gray;<br> - And this anon to richer tints gives way,<br> - Of yellow—orange—then of deepening red,<br> - Until at length, in his all gorgeous bed,<br> - Proudly sinks down the monarch of our day. -</td></tr> -</table> -<div align="right">* * * </div> -<br> -<br> -<hr align="center" width="100"><a name="sect29"></a> -<br> -<br> -<h3>ORIGINAL LITERARY NOTICES.</h3> -<br> -<blockquote><small>POEMS BY A COLLEGIAN, Charlottesville, Va. Published by C. P. -McKennie. Printed by D. Deans & Co. 1833.</small></blockquote> -<br> -<p>A neat and unpretending volume of poems, with the above title, was -issued last year from the Charlottesville press. As a Virginia -production <i>altogether</i>, and the first fruits of poetical genius, -emanating from the University of Virginia, the collection deserves -honorable mention in the pages of the Southern Literary Messenger.</p> - -<p>Criticism might be disarmed of some of its wonted severity, when it is -known that all the poems contained in this volume, were written by the -author between the ages of sixteen and nineteen. This fact, however, -only increases our favorable opinion of his talents, and induces us to -estimate still higher his natural powers of mind.</p> - -<p>We propose, instead of an analysis of the volume before us, and a -regular review of its contents, to extract specimens of the <small>POETRY</small>, -which struck us as displaying that fire of genius so necessary to -constitute a true <small>POET</small>. Our readers we are sure will agree with us in -the favorable opinion we have expressed, after they have perused these -specimens.</p> - -<p>One of the best and most spirited of the poems, is the Address to -Constantinople on its anticipated fall, written on receiving -intelligence that the Russian army was on its march to that capital in -1829. We give the two first stanzas.</p> - -<table align="center" border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" summary="poem39"> - <tr><td>"Thy plumes are ruffled now, proud bird!<br> - O'er land and ocean, forest, solitude,<br> - The echo of thy last, sad shriek is heard!—<br> - The glance of majesty<br> - Is quailing now from thy fierce eye,<br> - And the deep wailing of thy scattered brood<br> - Is dying to a murmur. Sadly dark<br> - Is thy soiled plumage, and thy gilded crest<br> - Has fallen—so often fall the loftiest and the best.<br> - - Hark!<br> - To the tread of the devouring foe!—<br> - But ere thou art laid low,<br> - Shall not one last avenging blow<br> - Be struck? Rouse thee, proud bird!<br> - Thy voice of triumph 'mid the nations, yet<br> - May swell from mosque and minaret—<br> - May with the bravest and the first be heard!<br><br> - Stamboul! proud city of the East!<br> - Sister of Rome!—old mistress of a world—<br> - Wilt thou from thy high state be hurled?<br> - Shall not thy sinewy arm be strung<br> - With its accustomed power?—at least<br> - Gird on thy mail, and let thy dirge,<br> - If thou <i>must</i> die, upon the battle's verge,<br> - Amid the shock of arms, be sung!" -</td></tr> -</table> - -<p>The energy of the language and the appropriateness of the figures, -appear to us worthy of high praise.</p> - -<p>We have several beautiful descriptions of calm and quiet scenery. What -follows, contrasts admirably with the lines we have just quoted.</p> - -<table align="center" border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" summary="poem40"> - <tr><td>"I look upon the stars sometimes—I love<br> - To watch their twinkling in the azure ground<br> - Of Heaven's o'er-arching canopy, where move<br> - Ten thousand worlds—which, starting with a bound—<br> - Plough with fiery track, the unseen waves<br> - Of fathomless immensity; to see,<br> - Age after age, that sky hung o'er the graves<br> - Of buried nations, as a tapestry—<br> - A funeral canopy when dyed with gloom;<br> - That sky, which, robed in majesty, looked bright<br> - Upon Columbus, when he sought the tomb<br> - Of all his hopes, or strove to snatch from night,<br> - And claim the birthright of a world. 'Tis when<br> - I view the stars, bright handmaids of the moon—<br> - Who walks among them as a virgin queen—<br> - That, with those stars to riot, seem a boon<br> - From Heaven; I love to see that moon's pure beams—<br> - Like lightning shot upon the watery waste,<br> - Which like a mine of living diamonds gleams—<br> - Each sparkling but an instant—as in haste<br> - To hide its liquid lustre in the wave—<br> - A jeweled bathing place—a starlit home—<br> - Fit—ay, beautifully fit to lave<br> - The light of worlds in upper air which roam." -</td></tr> -</table> - -<p>There is much of that highly romantic and poetical imagery in this, -which must please every reader of taste. A stanza of similar style is -in the lines to page 32.</p> - -<table align="center" border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" summary="poem41"> - <tr><td>"And when the stars were breathing out<br> - Their holy light to earth,<br> - And diamonding the glad blue sky<br> - For the young moon's queenly birth,<br> - I've gazed upon some lovely one,<br> - And thought that it might be<br> - A glorious home in the afterworld,<br> - In which to live with thee." -</td></tr> -</table> - -<p>And this at page 82.</p> - -<table align="center" border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" summary="poem42"> - <tr><td>"The air is like a tideless sea<br> - Of pure and silvery light,<br> - And the waters glance transparently,<br> - Illumed by the queen of night.<br><br> - The crested waves as they dash on high,<br> - And dissolve in pearly beads,<br> - Appear as a carpet spread gaudily,<br> - Where the giant sea-god treads." -</td></tr> -</table> - -<p>There is much, too, in the following lines, which comes over the -senses "like the sweet south."</p> - -<table align="center" border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" summary="poem43"> - <tr><td>"Evening is stealing with her nectared breath,<br> - Slowly and calmly down to kiss each flower<br> - That pouteth in rich beauty from beneath<br> - Its emerald colored guardians—the bright leaves—<br> - ('Tis strange what solace brings that magic hour<br> - To every heart that hopes, or loves, or grieves—<br> - It is the fitting time for fervent prayer,<br> - Which rises holily on kindred air—<br> - For then the air <i>is</i> holy—'tis the time<br> - For love—the only time to gaze and die<br> - Beneath the lustre of a diamond eye;<br> - Yet strange to tell, it is the hour for crime!)<br> - In golden majesty the glorious sun,<br> - With light too pure for eye to gaze upon,<br> - Is sinking slowly in the gorgeous west—<br> - A monarch going proudly to his rest.—<br> - He's gone, and mellow twilight creeps along<br> - As gently as the cadence of a song,—<br> - Twilight, to whom each poet in his day,<br> - Hath breathed melodious and impassioned lay,<br> - While o'er his soul thy witchery was stealing,<br> - As sweetly as the whispered tones of feeling.<br><br> - Evening—'tis then the o'er fraught heart doth pour<br> - Its wealth of pious incense at the shrine<br> - Of deity—the spirit then may soar<br> - Into those regions where the angels twine<br> - Wreaths for the glorious of our earthly race;—<br> - 'Tis then that we can see, and feel, and trace<br> - His glory in the realms of starry space!" -</td></tr> -</table> - -<p>We were pleased with the lines to ——, commencing thus:</p> - -<table align="center" border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" summary="poem44"> - <tr><td>"Memory! Memory!—'tis like the talisman<br> - We read of in the page of Eastern story,<br> - That magi used the inmost soul to scan<br> - Of friends or foes; or oft mayhap to call<br> - From his bright crystal, gold, or diamond hall,<br> - Some brother in his supernatural glory—<br> - The talisman of feeling, that doth bring<br> - Back on the heart the deeds of other days,<br> - With all their dark or glorious coloring—<br> - The wizard of the soul, whose wand can raise<br> - The disembodied spirits of the dead<br> - Palpable as it were to touch;—impress<br> - The face of such as long ago have fled<br> - Into their state of holy blessedness,<br> - Upon the mind." -</td></tr> -</table> - -<p>The poem, with which the volume opens, "To My Country," contains many -brilliant passages;—and throughout the work, the reader will linger -at almost every page to dwell upon something which must please his -fancy. Indeed the extracts that we intended to have made have so -multiplied upon our hands, that we have not now space to give place to -them all. We trust, however, that what we have given will suffice not -only to show that our own opinions are correct, but to bring the -public, and especially the Virginia public, better acquainted with the -author and his work. In a future number we may adorn the columns of -the Messenger with further extracts from the <small>POEMS BY A COLLEGIAN</small>.</p> - -<p>In the preface, the author states that his motive for preserving his -poems in their present form, was his desire "to leave among those who -have taken an interest in his welfare, and with whom he has been in -habits of daily intercourse, a slight memorial of himself, ere more -important duties urge their claims to consideration." We know that his -Alma Mater will always be proud of such a son, and that his friends, -with him, under her instruction will long cherish the "memorial." A -favorable opinion of it will, however, not be confined to them alone. -A discerning public will see and appreciate its excellence.</p> -<br> -<br> -<hr align="center" width="100"><a name="sect30"></a> -<br> -<br> -<blockquote><small>MY NATIVE LAND, AND OTHER POEMS. By Frederick Speece. Philadelphia: -Printed for Augustine Leftwich, Lynchburg, Virginia. 1832.</small></blockquote> -<br> -<p>Having been obligingly furnished with a copy of these poems, we take -pleasure in introducing them to the notice of the public. We are -somewhat surprised to learn that although published two years since in -Lynchburg, they have attracted no notice in that quarter, either of -applause or censure. It is perhaps, more agreeable to an author, that -his works should come under the lash of satire, than that they should -pass altogether without observation. The chilling neglect of the -public however, furnishes no stronger proof of a writer's demerit, -than do the too frequent carpings of illiberal criticism. Some of the -greatest poets have been doomed whilst living, to indigence and -obscurity, and owe all their honors to posthumous fame; and it is -asserted of Homer especially, that seven cities claimed the honor of -his birth, not one of which perhaps would have furnished a morsel to -save him from starving.</p> - -<p>We design not to raise extravagant expectations respecting Mr. -Speece's poems—nor can we hazard the conjecture that the praise of -future times will compensate him for contemporary injustice. We do not -hesitate however, to recommend his work as incomparably superior to -much of that glittering trash which passes under the name of poetry. -There is a vein of good sense,—of just and honest feeling—of tender -melancholy—and sometimes of rich imagination—which runs through his -volume, and which cannot fail to delight such readers as have any soul -for poetical composition. His versification for the most part, is -sweet and melodious—though occasionally there is a little inattention -to syllabick quantity, which produces rather an unpleasant effect upon -the ear. There are other faults too—but they are inconsiderable when -compared with the many redeeming beauties which shine through the -volume. The poem of "My Native Land," in its general tone and harmony -of verse, brings to recollection Goldsmith's Deserted Village—and the -"Sketches," which are also descriptive of the pleasures of juvenile -life and the picturesque scenery of his native hills—contain many -fine passages. In the "Juvenalis Redivivus"—the author has pointed -the arrows of satire against men and manners with no little -severity—so much so, that he has found it necessary in his preface to -acknowledge that time had softened much of the harsh coloring which he -had thrown into his pictures. Many of his minor pieces abound in -beautiful thoughts, expressed in smooth and flowing numbers—and upon -the whole we think if Mr. Speece had been sufficiently encouraged in -early life to persevere in the delightful but unprofitable task of -poetical authorship—he might have reached a highly respectable rank. -The following passage from "My Native Land," will probably remind the -reader of Cowper's touching address to his mother's picture.</p> - -<table align="center" border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" summary="poem45"> - <tr><td>"My mother! Melancholy was the morn<br> - That found me orphaned, and almost forlorn.<br> - My friend! My guide! Oh, could not mercy save<br> - Her for her child, or lay me in her grave!<br> - Why cheer my drooping and unsheltered head,<br> - When to the skies her gentle spirit fled?<br> - Why bid me live, since riper years must pay<br> - Their long arrears to that lamented day?<br> - I had a mother, tender, kind and true,<br> - Her virtues many and her failings few;<br> - With warm solicitude and watchful eye,<br> - She taught me what to follow, what to fly;<br> - And warned me disappointment and distress<br> - In life must be my portion, more or less;<br> - That fierce disease would often banish health;<br> - Pride point the insolence of power and wealth;<br> - Folly and vice allure; pretended friends<br> - Abuse my confidence for private ends;<br> - And fears and sorrows, hovering round my head,<br> - Pursue me to my last and narrow bed.<br> - Yet would she say, in Virtue's path was found<br> - A balm to heal the bosom's deepest wound:<br> - Winged my young thoughts to better worlds above,<br> - There to repose my confidence and love.<br> - Her fond affection never would deceive,<br> - But these were things I could not then believe.<br> - Yet though her warnings vanished from my mind,<br> - Her precepts left a faithful trace behind;—<br> - In memory's careful records still remain,<br> - And long experience proves they were not vain." -</td></tr> -</table> - -<p>The same poem concludes in the following lines—being a farewell -tribute to the place of his nativity.</p> - -<table align="center" border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" summary="poem46"> - <tr><td>"Adieu! Perhaps forever! Should it be,—<br> - 'Land of my Fathers! I will think of thee,'<br> - Long as its motions last, and vital heat,<br> - Within my heart, thy lovely name shall beat.—<br> - Tho' rude thy piny hills, a thankless soil,<br> - Whence scanty products meet the tiller's toil,<br> - Tho' thy wild scenery, and thy fickle clime,<br> - Exhibit little beauteous or sublime;—<br> - And timid Superstition's witching tales,<br> - And Gothic ignorance linger in thy vales;<br> - The charms that could my infant love engage,<br> - Have fixed the feelings of maturer age.<br> - So strongly linked to joys and sorrows past—<br> - I loved thee first—loved long—will love thee last.<br> - Whether, where Beauty taught me first to feel,<br> - And mutual passion fixed the sacred seal<br> - On treasures, Heaven reserved for me alone,<br> - A friend, a bosom dearer than my own,<br> - On Staunton's banks my wandering feet shall rest,<br> - Or in some Eden of the rosy West,<br> - In Alabama's ever verdant clime,<br> - Or where the wild Missouri rolls sublime;<br> - Or, 'mid the Bedford hills, whose limpid streams,<br> - Pay scanty tribute to the mighty James.—<br> - Land of my birth! and where my fathers sleep,<br> - Oft shall remembrance turn to thee and weep,<br> - And though my steps be doomed to wander far,<br> - Affection tremble to her Polar Star,<br> - Till the last throb shall lay this bosom low,<br> - Where <i>Memory</i> and <i>Affection</i> cease to <i>glow</i>." -</td></tr> -</table> - -<p>We select a passage at random from the satiric poem, as a fair -specimen of the author's style and manner.</p> - -<table align="center" border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" summary="poem47"> - <tr><td> "There was a time, our good old fathers say,<br> - (Perhaps it was so in their better day,)<br> - When coats and gowns were patch'd without disgrace,<br> - And men wore hats that cover'd all the face;<br> - When ragged virtue was not kick'd aside,<br> - Nor worth and equipage identified,<br> - Nor taste and genius by possession squared,<br> - Nor merit sold, like riband, by the yard.<br> - Temperance and charity were then esteem'd,<br> - And men and women were just what they seem'd.<br> - Labor and health with vigor strung their arms,<br> - Themselves less cultivated than their farms.<br> - No smart young master, impudent and vain,<br> - Play'd with his cue, or silver-headed cane,<br> - Forsook his grammar ere he learn'd the rules,<br> - To pilfer pins, or rifle reticules;<br> - Nor beardless hero boasted laurels won,<br> - From maids deceived, or jilted, or undone.<br> - The rosy girls, content with native bloom,<br> - Sought not the flowing robe and waving plume;<br> - Nor wish'd to gain the empire of a heart,<br> - Where half the victory was achieved by art.<br> - No wanton fashion taught with lace to deck,<br> - The shorten'd waist, and lengthen down the neck.<br> - No everlasting clack of slanderous tongues,<br> - Raised sad solicitude for female lungs;<br> - Nor had the sex divided all their cares,<br> - To sorting silks and mangling characters." -</td></tr> -</table> - -<p>If Mr. Speece were at this time a younger man than we presume him to -be, we should take the liberty of pointing out some of his -defects—but various allusions in some of his minor pieces, authorise -the inference that his affections are now almost alienated from the -once charming society of the muses. Domestic sorrow seems to have had -no inconsiderable share in producing this result. His "Apology to A. -L. Esq."—is full of the poet's as well as the father's anguish at the -sudden death of a favorite son sixteen years old. We give the whole to -the reader.</p> - -<table align="center" border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" summary="poem48"> - <tr><td>"The generous friend may justly claim<br> - The offspring of my musing,<br> - But to excite the Muse's flame<br> - No more obeys my choosing.<br> - Life's warmest hopes, its light and pride,<br> - Fail'd with my darling when he died.<br><br> - My harp, that once in rapture rung,<br> - Full-toned to joy and gladness,<br> - Lies all unheeded and unstrung<br> - Beneath the cloud of sadness;<br> - Vain were the task, the effort vain,<br> - To wake its thrilling notes again.<br><br> - Once skill'd to wreath poetic flowers<br> - Around the brow of Beauty,<br> - My hand has now forgot its powers,<br> - Nor heeds that gentle duty;<br> - Fled is their bloom; the task were vain,<br> - To wreath those wither'd flowers again.<br><br> - The heart that feels the mortal stroke,<br> - The bosom anguish-riven,<br> - Sinks hopeless as the blasted oak<br> - From the fierce bolt of Heaven:<br> - The oak no genial season feels;<br> - The wounded bosom never heals.<br><br> - Youth may regain its honors reft,<br> - And bloom again in gladness;<br> - Age, when bereaved, has little left<br> - But ever-during sadness;<br> - And gathering years and grief dissever<br> - Hope from the heart that bleeds forever." -</td></tr> -</table><br> -<br> -<br> -<hr align="center" width="100"><a name="sect31"></a> -<br> -<br> -<blockquote><small>A VISIT TO TEXAS: Being the journal of a traveller through those parts -most interesting to American settlers. With descriptions of scenery, -habits, &c. &c. <i>New York:</i> Goodrich & Wiley. 1834.</small></blockquote> -<br> -<p>The proximity of Texas to the United States,—the facilities of -intercourse between the two countries—and the migratory habits of our -citizens,—are sufficient to invest with more than ordinary interest -every thing which relates to that part of Spanish America. The volume -before us, is an unpretending and agreeable narrative, and is -calculated we think to do good, by pointing out the mischiefs and -inconveniences of emigration to the Mexican republic, and especially -by calling the public attention to the many ingenious frauds which are -practised by land companies and speculators. The author was a -purchaser of twenty thousand acres from the Galveston Bay and Texas -Land Company through their agents at New York, and full of golden -dreams about this new Eldorado of the south west, he embarked in -person at New Orleans, in order to take possession of his splendid -principality. His disappointment and vexation may be easily imagined -at finding himself on his arrival totally deceived on the subject of -his title! It was not worth the parchment on which it was written, and -after all his fruitless expense, anxiety and hardship, he did not -enjoy even the melancholy satisfaction on his return to New York of -obtaining from the trustees their sympathy, much less remuneration. -Our traveller might indeed have acquired "a quarter of a league of -unappropriated land, on condition of professing the Roman Catholic -religion, becoming a citizen of the Republic of Mexico, and residing -on the soil for six years, receiving his title from the -government;"—but he was too conscientious and honorable to submit to -such requirements. The truth is, that whilst there is much in the -climate and soil of Texas to allure the settler, there are also -numerous objections which ought to discourage the rash experiment of -emigration. Our own country, particularly in its new states and -territories—holds out sufficient inducements to such as find it -either convenient or necessary to change their abodes; and there are -no superior advantages in a residence on the Brassos or Colorado to -compensate for the sacrifices of friends and connexions,—free -government and the rights of conscience. It seems to us therefore to -be little short of fatuity, especially in the present unsettled state -of the miscalled Republic of Mexico, for a citizen of the United -States to abandon for a settlement in that quarter his native land, -unless indeed, he be a violator of its laws and a refugee from -punishment.</p> - -<p>In truth, it appears that this desperate class of men constitute no -inconsiderable portion of the population of Texas;—and our author -relates that on one occasion he sat at the same table with no less -than four murderers who had fled from justice. True, there is a large -portion of the country extremely beautiful and fertile, and the labors -of the planter and herdsman are richly rewarded;—but these advantages -are greatly counterbalanced by the insecurity of the government and -laws—the intolerance of religious bigotry—and the absence of most of -the elements which constitute a virtuous and happy community. Minor -evils and inconveniences are also felt. The spacious plains and -luxuriant prairies—though they furnish abundance of food for horses -and cattle, are scantily supplied with wood, and altogether destitute -of stone;—and the usual incidents of southern latitudes,—bilious -fever,—poisonous reptiles and insects, and alligators of enormous -size, serve to fill up the revolting picture.</p> - -<p>We have no fears therefore, notwithstanding the enchanting coloring -which even the temperate feelings and chastened imagination of our -author have thrown around a Texas landscape—that there are many -persons of sober minds, when they shall have balanced the good with -the evil, will be much enamoured with the thought of a permanent -"visit" to that region. The book, therefore, may be recommended as a -tolerably certain antidote to any lurking desire for a ramble across -the Sabine,—and if perchance the spirit of migration shall have -become too obstinate for cure,—it may still have the effect of -confining the wanderer's steps within the limits of our own republic.</p> - -<p>There are many things in our author's narrative both curious and -amusing—and not among the least so, is the account he gives of that -intractable animal, the <i>mustang</i>, or wild horse of the country. With -one of that strange species he was necessarily obliged to cultivate an -intimate acquaintance, having no other means of transportation between -different parts of the country. The manner in which they are reduced -to subjection, and the untameable perverseness of their nature, are -thus related:</p> - -<blockquote><small>The first thing to be attended to, was the purchase of a horse; and -this was easily effected. The small horses of the country, called -<i>mustangs</i>, introduced by the Spaniards, and now numerous in the more -northern prairies, run wild in droves over these parts of Texas, and -are easily taken and rendered serviceable by the inhabitants. When -caught, it would be a problem to a stranger to confine them, where -there is neither tree nor rock to be found: but the Mexicans put on a -halter, knot it at the end, dig a hole about ten inches deep, put in -the knot, and press the earth down upon it. The pull being sideways is -at a disadvantage, and the horse is unable to draw it out. They are -driven to market, purchased for three or four dollars, branded, -hobbled, turned out again, and entirely abandoned to themselves until -they are needed. Whenever a vessel arrives, some of the inhabitants -send into the woods and cane brakes for such a number as they suppose -may be wanted by the passengers; and this I found had already been -done in anticipation of the wants of those who came in the sloop -Majesty. In the log stable belonging to Mr. Austin, at whose house I -lodged, I saw a number of them, with all the wild look which might be -expected from their habits of life. They are small, generally about 13 -hands high, well formed, rather for strength, and of different colors. -I saw others in several other stables; and at length made choice of a -white one; and having paid for him a doubloon and four dollars, (a -handsome advance on his original cost,) stuffed a pair of saddle bags -with a few articles of food as well as clothes, and was soon ready for -my journey.</small></blockquote> - -<blockquote><small>As the brands on horses afford the only evidence of their identity, -and the property of their owners, the rules observed in respect to -them are very strict.</small></blockquote> - -<blockquote><small>These horses are very useful in the country, and may perhaps become at -some future time a valuable article of export, as they are -innumerable, and cost only the trouble of catching. This is done with -a strong noosed cord, made of twisted strips of raw hide, and called a -<i>lazo</i>, which is the Spanish word for a band or bond. It has been -often described, as well as the manner of throwing it, as it is in -common use for catching animals, and sometimes for choking men, in -different parts of America inhabited by the descendants of the Spanish -and Portuguese. A man on horseback, with a rope of this kind coiled in -his left hand, and one end of it fastened to the horse, whirls the -noosed end in the air over his head as he approaches the animal he -intends to seize: and, on finding an opportunity, throws it over its -head or horns, and checks his horse. The noose is instantly drawn -tight, and the poor creature is thrown violently down, without the -power of moving, and generally deprived of breath. They are sometimes -badly injured, and even killed, by bring dashed to the ground; but -generally escape with a severe practical lesson on the nature of this -rude instrument of civilization, which they afterwards hold in great -respect all their lives, yielding immediately whenever they feel it -again upon their necks.</small></blockquote> - -<blockquote><small>The mustangs often carry to their graves evidence of the violent means -adopted by the Mexicans in breaking them to the bridle. Many of them -are foundered, or otherwise diseased. A horse which has been lazoed is -blindfolded, mounted by a rider armed with the heavy and barbarous -spurs of the country, after having their terrible lever bits put into -his mouth, a moderate pull upon which might break his jaw, and if he -runs is pricked to his speed, till he falls down with exhaustion. He -is then turned in the opposite direction, and cruelly spurred again. -If he is found able to run back to the point from which he started, he -is thought to have bottom enough to make a valuable horse: otherwise -he is turned off as good for little or nothing. The process is a -brutal one; and the agony inflicted by the bits is extreme: as blood -flows freely from the mouth which is often greatly swollen; and the -animal yields to mere force.</small></blockquote> - -<blockquote><small>In the morning we mounted our horses and proceeded to the river, where -the ferry boat, a large scow, was lying near the shore. I dismounted, -and taking the bridle in my hand, attempted to lead my horse in after -me. Most fortunately I was looking at him, and was better prepared -than I was sensible of being, to make one of those sudden instinctive -motions, which sometimes prove essential to our safety. Had I been -turning the other way, or a little less active, I should probably have -lost my life, or at least have been seriously injured: for instead of -following me into the boat, as an honest horse should, and as I had -expected him to do, he fixed his eyes upon me with a malicious -expression, and sprung at me like lightning, clearing the ground -entirely, and making a leap of about eight feet. I jumped aside, and -barely in time to avoid his feet, with which it seemed to me he -designed to beat me down. I do not know that I ever had experienced -such feelings as this occurrence excited in me. It betrayed a degree -of spite mingled with craft which I had never seen in an animal of his -species; and laid the axe at the root of all that confidence and -attachment which a traveller loves to exercise towards his horse. I -have been thus particular in mentioning this little occurrence, -because the wit of the country appears to be largely invested in the -horses; and this was the beginning of my white mustang.</small></blockquote> - -<p>Some other particulars of our traveller's own rebellious steed may -also be extracted. He was not indeed "a Tartar of the Ukraine -breed"—but he was as wild, mischievous and wicked an animal as ever -pranked.</p> - -<blockquote><small>It was our intention to proceed to Bingham's that day: for one of my -companions, who had travelled the road a short time before, had -calculated that his house would afford us a very comfortable lodging -after a good day's ride. We rose therefore to proceed on our journey. -But I had a chapter or two more to read on the character of mustangs -before I was destined to leave the place. I had never been informed of -one particular propensity which they have, that is, to draw back and -pull violently when approached in front, and therefore walked up to my -white horse rather hastily to untie and mount him. He sprang back and -pulled for a moment so hard upon the sapling to which I had fastened -him, that it came up by the roots; and after a few leaps and kicks, -which freed him from my saddle bags, and broke the bridle, he made off -towards the middle of the prairie at full speed, with his head and -tail both raised, and in a state of exultation which formed quite a -contrast to my own feelings.</small></blockquote> - -<blockquote><small>My companions threw off their valises, mounted immediately, and gave -chase to the pestilent runaway, which, after a short gallop, had -halted, and with the most provoking coolness began to eat grass from -the prairie. As they approached him, however, he flew off again as -fast as his legs would carry him; and thus he led them to a great -distance, on a chase apparently hopeless. I watched them till I was -tired, coursing over the prairie here and there, now on this side, now -on that, at such a distance that they looked no bigger than cats, and -anon further diminished to mere mice. My white mustang led them up and -down, round and crosswise, as if he delighted in worrying them, -occasionally stopping, as coolly as before, to crop the grass, and -then off in a new direction, like a wild creature as he was. This -chase lasted without intermission for four hours, at the end of which -they succeeded in driving the little white animal towards the house. -Mr. Bailey, seeing him approaching, despatched a messenger to a -neighboring farm for assistance; and a man soon came hurrying down on -horseback, provided with a lazo: a rope with a noose at the end as -before described. He joined in the pursuit with the spirit and skill -of one practised in such employment, and soon got within about eight -or ten feet of my horse, when, with a dexterous fling, he suddenly -threw the noose over his head. Having the beast now completely in his -power, he was prepared to choke him into submission; and the noose was -on the point of closing its grasp round his neck. But here the -intelligence and experience of the mustang stepped in with customary -promptitude: for as soon as he felt the rope round his neck, he -stopped stone still, and yielded as submissively as a lamb. Like an -accomplished rogue at last fairly in the gripe of justice, he seemed -in haste to submit, plead guilty and repent, in order to secure as -much leniency as possible; and in a few moments I was again on the -back of this little flying brute, jogging on as quietly as if he had -never rebelled in his life. There was a great deal of farce in all -this: but we had been put to too much inconvenience by the perverse -trick to enjoy the joke: for our loss of time, we foresaw, would put -it out of our power to perform all our intended day's journey.</small></blockquote> - -<blockquote><small>It was nearly dark when we reached Hall's: a habitation of which I had -heard, but at which we had not originally intended to stop, as it was -only thirteen miles from Bailey's. I here found that horses in Texas -are always turned out loose to feed, even if a traveller stops but for -the night, which would have ensured another chase, with perhaps even -more unfavorable results than that I had witnessed, but for an -expedient which was recommended to us. This was to "hobble them" after -the fashion of the country: which consists in tying together their -fore legs with a short cord, and not one fore and one hind leg -together, as we do at the north. This operation instantly changes the -movements of a horse, as he is obliged to make every step a fair leap: -and it excited the greatest merriment in me, when I saw the horses of -my companions practising a gait so different from common, under a mode -of constraint which I had never witnessed before. Fully satisfied that -such confinement would be sufficient even for my white mustang, I -began to tie his legs together, which to my surprise he submitted to -with the utmost cheerfulness, without raising his head, for he had -already began to graze on the fine grass. Although so recently -accustomed to run at large in the Brazos forests, he had evidently -been familiar with the hobble: for as if he perfectly concurred in my -opinion as to the propriety of his being bound, whenever he wanted to -move he carefully raised both fore feet together, so as not to -interfere with my task, and made a gentle spring to a knot of fresh -feed. Surely, thought I, I have got a steed sagacious enough to figure -in one of Æsop's Fables.</small></blockquote> - -<p>Our traveller had not proceeded far on his journey, before his -vexatious mustang refused to eat, and gave signs of great weariness -and exhaustion. Unable however to supply himself with another, he -resolved after an interval of rest to pursue his way.</p> - -<blockquote><small>We took our departure accordingly; and I had much difficulty in -getting my horse out of the town. In a short time, however, he began -to cheer up, and gradually quickened his pace until his strength and -spirits were quite restored, and he travelled remarkably well. However -strange it may seem, there was every appearance that the whole affair -had been a mere trick of the wily brute; and my opinion was confirmed -by several inhabitants to whom I afterwards recounted the story. They -told me that the sagacity and duplicity of the mustang is well known -among them, and that he is capable of almost any thing, which -ingenuity or malice can invent. So ungrateful a return for all my -kindness and care, under such vexatious circumstances, and aggravated -by such persevering imposture, added to my previous dislike of the -animal which had been guilty of it.</small></blockquote> - -<p>One would be almost tempted to think that these provoking yet -sagacious quadrupeds were regular descendants from the race celebrated -by Swift, and which that eccentric satirist endowed with superior -intelligence to men.</p> - -<p>From our author's account, Texas would undoubtedly furnish its full -quota of contributions to a cabinet of natural history. The feathered -tribes luxuriate there, especially on the coast, in great abundance -and variety. The wild fowl congregate in prodigious flocks, and the -ornithologist might find almost every order, genera and species in -creation. The tenants of the forest are not less numerous,—there -being an ample supply of wolves, bears, panthers, wild cats, wild -hogs, foxes, rackoons and squirrels. The waters too, furnish their -finny, testaceous and crustaceous treasures,—the red fish, buffalo, -cat, drum, pearch, oysters, crabs, &c. Nor is there any want of those -amphibious annoyances, crocodiles and alligators—and to crown the -whole, there is an anomalous species called the -alligator-garr,—consisting not of the fanciful compound of half horse -and half alligator—but of the actual and bona fide admixture of one -moiety of fish, and the other of alligator. We must not forget either -in enumerating the zoological curiosities of that region, one which we -do not recollect to have seen described by naturalists. We give the -words of the author.</p> - -<blockquote><small>One of the prettiest little animals I ever saw, is the "horned frog;" -which, notwithstanding its name, is far from being amphibious, as it -is found on the prairies at a distance from water. Indeed it bears -little or no resemblance to a frog, appearing more like a lizard, with -rather a long and graceful form, a tail, and legs of nearly equal -length, so that it runs swiftly and never leaps. I had often occasion -to notice them, both here and on other prairies. They run with such -agility, that although they do not take alarm until you have -approached very near them, they dart off, and generally disappear -immediately. One might often mistake them for quails, while in motion. -They are of a yellowish color, mottled, and have horns about half an -inch long, projecting from the front of the head. Several were caught -and kept for some time in a barrel at Anahuac, and though it could not -be perceived that they ate any of the various kinds of food which were -offered them, they lived and continued active for a considerable -time.</small></blockquote> - -<p>That formidable reptile the rattlesnake, is also found in the grassy -prairies of Texas. Our traveller killed one of the "largest and -noblest" of that venemous family—it being five or six feet long and -about six inches in circumference. It was provided however with only -eight rattles, whereas others which had been killed a few days -previously of hardly half the size, were furnished with as many as -thirteen;—from which the author takes occasion to contest the common -opinion that the number of rattles is an indication of the reptile's -age. We have heard the same fact asserted, and the same conclusion -drawn from it by others, whose opportunities for careful and actual -observation were undoubted.</p> - -<p>Notwithstanding the many and formidable objections to a permanent -residence in Texas,—there are beauties in its scenery, which, despite -of its unvarying monotony—must fill the beholder with delight. We -give a description of one of the few fine estates in regular -cultivation.</p> - -<blockquote><small>We were received with great hospitality by Mr. McNeil and his family, -in which we found every disposition to welcome us. They set before us -the best products of the soil, which is indeed a land flowing with -milk and honey, in a more unqualified sense of the expression than any -I had ever seen. Our exercise had sharpened our appetites; and we were -soon cheered with the sight of an excellent and plentiful meal: for -our hosts, without making a single allusion to the subject, had -immediately given directions, on our first arrival, that our wants -should be provided for, and we soon sat down to a well timed repast. -It consisted chiefly of venison and a fine turkey, and was accompanied -with excellent coffee. The daughter of our host was a very intelligent -and well educated young lady, and had recently returned from the -Northern States, where she had just completed her education.</small></blockquote> - -<blockquote><small>After eating, we took a view of the charming scene around us. The -house in which we were, constructed of logs, and on the plan common to -the country dwellings of farmers in Texas, is well sheltered from the -sun and the winds by the wood, in the verge of which it is situated: -and when the beautiful China trees around it shall have attained a -greater size, the spot will be rendered still more agreeable. The -mansion fronts upon the estate: a fine, open prairie, over which the -eye ranges with pleasure, no wild or barren spot occurring to -interrupt the universal aspect of fertility and beauty, and no -swelling of the surface being perceptible, which might in any degree -interfere with the clearest view of every part. The only interruption -is caused by clusters of trees of different forms and sizes, scattered -at distant intervals here and there. These clumps and groves, -apparently possessing all the neatness and beauty which could have -been given them if planted by the hand of man, and tended by his -greatest care, added the charm of variety to the eye, while they -promised thick and convenient shelter from sun and storm to man or -beast. Without such variety and such a refuge, the aspect of the -prairie, with all its verdure, would have been monotonous to the -sight, and disheartening to the traveller. It would be almost -impossible for a person who has never seen them, to imagine the -appearances of these groves. Although they are wholly the work of -nature, they often present all the beauty of art: for the trees are of -nearly equal size, and grow near together, without underwood, and -present outlines perfectly well defined, and often surprisingly -regular. Some appear to form exact circles or ovals, while others are -nearly square or oblong. It is no uncommon thing to see a continued -line, running perfectly straight, for a mile or more in length, with -scarcely a single tree projecting beyond it: so that I found it -difficult to divest myself of the impression, that much of the land -had been lately cleared, and that these were but the remains of the -forest.</small></blockquote> - -<blockquote><small>Those groves are called islands, from the striking resemblance they -present to small tracts of land surrounded by water. Nothing can be -more natural than the comparison. The prairie assumes the uniform -appearance of a lake, both in surface and color; and in the remoter -parts the hue melts into that of distant water; and it requires no -very great effort of the imagination, especially in certain states of -the weather and changes of the light, to fancy that such is the nature -of the scene.</small></blockquote> - -<blockquote><small>The landscape was bounded on the right by a long and distant line of -woodland, which concealed and yet betrayed the course of the river San -Bernard, and about three miles off, and on the left by a similar -limit, which formed the "bottoms" of the Brazos. Between these the -prairie extended its broad, unbroken level before us about ten miles, -beyond which we saw the Gulf of Mexico, reaching off to the -horizon.</small></blockquote> - -<blockquote><small>I stood long contemplating this charming picture, which, as I before -remarked, is entirely overlooked from the door of our hospitable -friend; and what greatly added to its interest, was a vast number of -cattle feeding in all parts of his wide domain. How different a sight -was here presented, from any of the rural scenes with which my eyes -had ever before been familiar! How different was all the system of the -farmer from that prevailing in those regions of my own country which I -had lately visited! I was one moment struck with surprise at the vast -extent of land under the care of a single proprietor, and the few -human hands required to perform the necessary labor; and the next I -was filled with admiration at the various advantages afforded by a -mild and benignant climate, a soil of extreme fertility, and a surface -best appropriate to its use, when subjected to a system of culture to -which it is best adapted. The cotton field and garden, with their two -hundred acres, lay on the one hand, effectually secured against all -encroachment with the most substantial fence I had ever seen, which -stretched off a mile on one line; and around and beyond it lay the -almost boundless prairie, variegated with its numerous islands, -spotted with a scattered herd of six hundred cattle, all belonging to -our host. The breed is larger than those common in the north, with -longer and straiter limbs, broader horns and smoother coats. They all -appeared well fed, active and vigorous, and spend their lives through -winter and summer in the open air. The only attention bestowed upon -them, is merely to mark them when young in such a manner that if they -stray they may be distinguished from the cattle of any other -proprietor. Of course no housing is necessary in such a climate, and -no provision of food for them is to be made, in a country where there -is perpetual green. They feed during the winter in the bottoms, and as -yet do not require salt, for some reason unaccountable to me. One -might expect that cattle left thus to herd together in such immense -droves, without the care or control of man during their lives, would -contract habits of timidity or of fierceness; but I was assured that -they are in one respect more manageable than the tame cattle I have -seen: for a horseman can always readily separate such as he chooses -from a herd, by riding after them one at a time, though this is a task -of great difficulty with our northern cattle, even where they have -roads and fences to restrain them.</small></blockquote> - -<p>We shall conclude by extracting another portion of the work, which in -the simple and unpretending language of the author, presents a picture -of such striking beauty, that the eye of a poet might almost mistake -it for Elysium.</p> - -<blockquote><small>I had never been at all prepared for the indescribable beauty of a -Texas prairie at this season of the year, which I now could not avoid -admiring, even under such unpleasant circumstances. The wild flowers -had greatly multiplied, so that they were often spread around us in -the utmost profusion, and in wonderful variety. Some of those which -are most cultivated in oar northern gardens were here in full bloom -and perfection, intermingled with many which I had never before seen, -of different forms and colors. I should despair of giving my reader -any adequate idea of the scenes which were thus so richly adorned, and -through which we often passed for acres in extent, breaking for -ourselves the only path perceptible on the whole prairie. Among the -flowers were the largest and most delicate I had ever seen, with -others the most gaudy. Among them were conspicuous different species -about six inches in diameter, presenting concentric zones of the -brightest yellow, red and blue, in striking contrasts. In more than -one instance these fields of flowers were not only so gay and -luxuriant as to seem like a vast garden richly stocked with the finest -plants and abandoned to a congenial soil, but extensive almost beyond -limitation: for it was sometimes difficult to discover whether they -stopped short of the horizon. It was singular also that patches were -here and there overspread by mimosas, which, as our horses passed -through them, drew up their leaves and dropped their branches whenever -they were brushed by their feet, thus making a withered trace on the -surface, which was but gradually obliterated as these timid plants -regained their courage, raised their stems again and expanded their -withered leaves. The plants whose sensitiveness had thus been -overcome, were rendered distinguishable to the eye from others, by the -exposure they made of the lower side of their leaves when they folded -them up: that side being of a much lighter hue than the upper. There -was a phenomenon connected with this striking appearance, which I was -at the time unable to account for, and could hardly credit. That was, -the shrinking of the delicate plants a little in advance of us, before -we had quite reached them. A friend who had witnessed the same thing, -accounted for it by supposing that they received a shock through the -long horizontal roots which connect them together.</small></blockquote> - -<blockquote><small>One of the first flowers which appears to deck the prairie in the -spring, is the prairie rose, which in blossom and fragrance, resembles -some of our rich red roses, though the shrub is quite different. As -for others, I know not what a botanist might make of them: but I am -certain that many of them would be exceedingly admired in our own -country, as rich and new; and as to the scenes over which they were -spread, it is impossible to describe or to imagine their beauty and -attraction. After looking on the rich and ever varying display, I felt -a high degree of pleasure and admiration, so that I thought I could -almost give my mustang his liberty, throw myself on the ground and -spend the whole season among them. Occasionally too a light breath of -wind would rise, and blow the mingled perfumes into my face, giving an -enjoyment no less pure and refined, and most difficult to -express.</small></blockquote> -<br> -<br> -<hr align="center" width="100"><a name="sect32"></a> -<br> -<br> -<h4>VIRGINIA HISTORICAL AND PHILOSOPHICAL SOCIETY.</h4> - -<blockquote><small>We select the following from the "<i>The Western Monthly Magazine</i>," a -very neat and ably conducted periodical, published at Cincinnati. We -are gratified at the favorable notice taken of the first labors of the -<i>Historical and Philosophical Society;</i>—a society which, of all -others ever established among us, ought to stir up every Virginian who -possesses a particle of state pride. Why, in the name of every thing -that is dear to us, do we not unite our efforts to establish something -like a literary and scientific character for the Old Dominion. Is -there not something, besides politics, worth living for? We shall -devote some pages of our future numbers to the interests of this -excellent institution.</small></blockquote> -<hr align="center" width="50"> - -<blockquote><small>COLLECTIONS <i>of the Virginia Historical and Philosophical Society;</i> to -which is prefixed an Address spoken before the Society, &c. by -<i>Jonathan P. Cushing</i>, A.M., President of Hampden Sidney College. vol. -i. Richmond, T. W. White, 1833.</small></blockquote> -<br> -<p>The Society from whose labors this pamphlet has been produced, was -originated in the winter of 1831; but owing to the fatal epidemic -which prevailed in that country, in common with other parts of the -United States, and other adverse causes, effected but little during -the two first years of its existence. The interesting publication now -before us, however, affords an earnest that the rich hoard of ancient -lore, treasured in the public archives, or private records, of the -ancient dominion, will not be suffered to lie concealed any longer -from the public eye.</p> - -<p>We hail the establishment of this Society, at the head of which we -perceive the name of the venerable Chief Justice of the United States, -as an event highly auspicious to the literature of our country. -Notwithstanding all that has been published, the older states of the -Union abound in fragments of traditionary history, of the most -interesting and valuable character, many of which will soon be lost to -posterity, unless they shall be rescued from oblivion by the efforts -of zealous and learned associations. Virginia especially, is rich in -the materials of history. From the day when the intrepid Smith first -wandered in search of adventure, along the wooded shores of the -Chesapeak, and when the gentle Pocahontas gave to the world an example -of female heroism and affection, more touching than any thing recorded -upon the pages of romance, down to the present era, her annals have -been filled with events of thrilling interest, and high importance. -Long before the revolution, her scholars and statesmen were known to -fame, and her soldiers were distinguished in the colonial wars. -Mistress of the wide expanse of the unknown west, her sons began early -to explore the wilderness, and to lay the foundation of a new empire -in this enticing region. From that state came the pioneers who subdued -the enemy, in the forests of Kentucky, and to whom America owes a -large debt of gratitude. The war for independence, was not fought by -our gallant forefathers upon the shores of the Atlantic only. While -our armies were contending there, the British had turned loose the -savage hordes of the west upon the frontiers, and the backwoodsmen -were successfully repelling the incursions of the barbarian, while -Washington was employed in fighting their regular armies. When we -recal those events, when we recollect the services of Virginia, in -defending the western settlements, and her magnanimity in yielding up -to the general government the broad lands of this Great Valley, the -larger portion of which were her own by right and by possession, it -will be seen that there is no state to whom the inhabitants of this -region owe so much, and none whose history is so nearly connected with -our own. We witness, therefore, with no small degree of gratification, -an attempt to place on record the existing reminiscences of the -patriotic and hardy deeds of the noble generation which preceded our -own. And we hope it will be successful. Abounding as Virginia does, in -all the elements of greatness, there is no reason why she should not -perpetuate the fame of her own sons. Containing within her limits so -many men of genius, education, and comparative leisure, she has at -command the most ample means of collecting and preserving every bright -relic which has been scattered along her career, by the hand of time.</p> - -<p>The first article in the pamphlet before us, is the address of -President Cushing, of Hampden Sidney College, in which he sets forth -the objects of the Society, and presses them earnestly upon the -attention of the members. They are such as are usually embraced in the -plans of similar institutions, including not only historical and -biographical details, but facts in relation to the natural history and -actual condition of the state.</p> - -<p>The next article is a "memoir of Indian wars, and other occurrences, -by the late Colonel Stuart, of Greenbrier"—a paper which sheds -considerable light upon the events which transpired upon the western -portion of Virginia, during the thirty years succeeding the year 1749. -The writer participated in the eventful scenes of that interesting -period, and was not only a soldier, but a man of strong mind, who has -recorded his recollections in a clear and easy style. The following -anecdote is quite characteristic:</p> - -<blockquote><small>About the year 1749, a person who was a citizen of the county of -Frederick, and subject to paroxysms of lunacy, when influenced by such -fits, usually made excursions into the wilderness, and in his rambles -westwardly, fell in on the waters of Greenbrier river. At that time, -the country on the western waters was but little known to the English -inhabitants of the then colonies of America, being claimed by the -French, who had commenced settlements on the Ohio and its waters, west -of the Alleghany mountains. The lunatic being surprised to find waters -running a different course from any he had before known, returned with -the intelligence of his discovery, which did abound with game. This -soon excited the enterprise of others. Two men from New England, of -the name of Jacob Marlin and Stephen Sewell, took up a residence upon -Greenbrier river; but soon disagreeing in sentiment, a quarrel -occasioned their separation, and Sewell, for the sake of peace, quit -their cabin and made his abode in a large hollow tree. In this -situation they were found by the late General Andrew Lewis, in the -year 1751. Mr. Lewis was appointed agent for a company of grantees, -who obtained from the governor and council of Virginia, an order for -one hundred thousand acres of land lying on the waters of Greenbrier -river,—and did, this year, proceed to make surveys to complete the -quantity of said granted lands; and finding Marlin and Sewell living -in the neighborhood of each other, inquired what could induce them to -live separate in a wilderness so distant from the habitations of any -other human beings. They informed him that difference of opinion had -occasioned their separation, and that they had since enjoyed more -tranquillity and a better understanding; for Sewell said, that each -morning when they arose and Marlin came out of the great house and he -from his hollow tree, they saluted each other, saying—good morning -Mr. Marlin, and good morning Mr. Sewell, so that a good understanding -then existed between them; but it did not last long, for Sewell -removed about forty miles further west, to a creek that still bears -his name. There the Indians found him and killed him.</small></blockquote> - -<p>Colonel Stuart gives a very detailed account of the campaign of -General Lewis in 1774, which resulted in the battle at Point Pleasant. -That battle was, in fact, the beginning of the revolutionary war; for -it is well known that the Indians were induced by the British to -commence hostilities, for the purpose of confounding and terrifying -the American people. It was thought that an Indian war would prevent a -combination of the colonies for opposing the measures of parliament, -and would turn their thoughts from resistance to the government, by -engaging them in the defence of their homes. The Shawanese, a fierce, -warlike, and numerous tribe, were employed on this occasion, and they -were a tribe not to be despised—for by them, with their allies, have -the most conspicuous battles in the West been fought. It was chiefly -the Shawanese that cut off the British army under Braddock in 1755, -and defeated Major Grant and his highlanders at Fort Pitt in 1758. It -was they who defeated an army composed of the flower of Kentucky at -Blue Licks—who vanquished Harmer and St. Clair, who were beaten by -Wayne, and conquered by Harrison.</p> - -<p>The army sent against these formidable savages by Governor Dunmore, -was composed of Virginia volunteers, led by General Andrew Lewis, a -gentleman of whose military abilities General Washington entertained -so high an opinion, that when the chief command of the revolutionary -armies were tendered to himself, he recommended that it should be -given to General Lewis. He was the companion of Washington in the -fatal campaign under Braddock, and was a captain in the detachment -which fought at Little Meadows in 1752. He commanded a company of -Virginians, attached to Major Grant's regiment of Highlanders in 1758, -and on the eve of the battle in which the latter was so signally -defeated, was ordered to the rear, with his men, in order that he -might not share the honor of the expected victory. There he stood with -his brave Virginians, impatiently listening to the reports of the -musquetry, at a distance of more than a mile from the battle -ground—until the Europeans were defeated, when, without waiting for -orders, he rushed to the scene of slaughter, and by his coolness and -skill, turned the scale of victory, drove back the savages, and saved -the regulars from massacre. "When he was advancing," says the -narrative before us, "he met a Scotch Highlander under speedy flight, -and inquiring of him how the battle was going, he said 'they were a' -beaten, and he had seen Donald McDonald up to his hunkers in mud, and -a' the skeen af his heed.' Grant made his escape from the field of -battle with a party of seven or eight soldiers, and wandered all night -in the woods," but surrendered himself to the enemy in the morning, -while the Virginians marched home in triumph. This was the same -Colonel Grant who figured in the British Parliament in 1775, when he -had the impudence to say, he knew the Americans well—he had often -acted in the same service with them, and from that knowledge would -venture to predict, that they would never dare to face an English -army, being destitute of every requisite to constitute good soldiers.</p> - -<p>We regret that we have not room to make further extracts from this -narrative. We shall have attained our object, however, if the remarks -we have made, shall be the means of attracting attention to this -interesting era in our history.</p> - -<p>The last article in this pamphlet is a very curious document, being an -exact copy of the "Record of Grace Sherwood's Trial for Witchcraft, in -1705, in Princess Ann County, Virginia." On another occasion we shall -present an account of this singular procedure to our readers.</p> -<br> -<br> -<hr align="center" width="100"><a name="sect33"></a> -<br> -<br> -<h4>THE LITERARY JOURNAL.</h4> -<br> -<p>M. M. Robinson, Esq. editor of the Compiler, has issued the first or -specimen number of a new periodical to be published weekly in this -city, with the title of the "L<small>ITERARY</small> J<small>OURNAL</small>." Its contents will -consist of <i>selections</i> from the mass of contemporary literature, -American and foreign. We should rejoice in Mr. Robinson's success, -even if his paper was likely to conflict with the interests of the -"Messenger." In truth however, the two periodicals ought to flourish -together, and be mutually beneficial. Whilst the "Journal" will be -filled <i>exclusively</i> with <i>selected</i> matter, the "Messenger" will -<i>chiefly</i>, though not entirely, consist of <i>original</i> articles. The -<i>former</i> will improve the taste and enrich the mind of the reader, by -culling from inexhaustible sources whatever may contribute to his -gratification and amusement; whilst the <i>latter</i> will furnish the -means of exercising the talents of <i>our own writers</i>—of imbodying our -own conceptions, and reducing to <i>practical use</i>, the knowledge which -we acquire. Whilst in order to write well, much reading is absolutely -necessary, so all the reading in the world will avail but little, -unless the free and familiar use of the pen is also obtained. We -certainly never shall become a literary people unless we learn to use -the treasures we accumulate from books; no more than the theory of -military tactics will ever make an accomplished soldier in his -closet—or the study of jurisprudence constitute a lawyer of one who -never appears at the bar.</p> - -<p>The first number of the "Journal" is filled with reviews of foreign -publications, and other articles, which appear to have been -judiciously selected. We take the liberty of making one suggestion -however, and that is, that the source from which each article is -derived ought to be designated. If the name of the writer cannot be -given, that of the Quarterly or Monthly from which it is extracted, -ought by all means to be furnished. It would moreover be doubtless -gratifying to the reader to understand whether he is indebted to an -American or British author for the pleasure he receives.</p> - -<p>Mr. Robinson will, it is hoped, be successful in his enterprise.</p> -<br> -<br><hr align="center" width="100"> -<br> -<br> -<h4>EXTRACT FROM LACON.</h4> -<br> -<p>Nothing is so difficult as the apparent ease of a clear and flowing -style: those graces which from their presumed facility encourage all -to attempt an imitation of them, are usually the most inimitable.</p> -<br> -<br> -<hr align="center" width="100"><a name="sect34"></a> -<br> -<br> -<h4>EDITORIAL DEPARTMENT.</h4> -<br> -<p>The two preceding numbers of the "Messenger" having been, as far as we -can learn, favorably received by its patrons, we have endeavored in -this to keep pace with expectation, by presenting a rich variety of -original matter, and a few interesting selections. Among the most -important duties of those who have any concern in the management of -such a work—it is not the least to be watchful of an enlightened -public opinion—to profit by the suggestions of others, and even to -receive with patience well-intended rebuke. It is precisely in this -latter spirit that we have noticed in the letters of one or two -correspondents, as well as in the public prints, some animadversions -upon the editorial remarks in the last number. We have been censured, -and perhaps justly, for bestowing too much praise on the contributions -of our friends. However great the error, it was at least honestly, if -not prudently committed.</p> - -<p>It was believed that a little commendation was not only justly due, -but might stir up generous minds to increase their efforts in behalf -of an infant and laudable enterprise. We should always prefer erring -on the side of indiscriminate praise, rather than undeserved censure. -The true path, indeed, is to avoid both extremes,—but it is much -easier to prescribe good counsel than always to follow it. We have -been admonished too by a very sensible and judicious correspondent, in -whose judgment we entertain great confidence, that we have imposed -inconvenient and impolitic restrictions upon the writers for the -"Messenger," by limiting the subject matter of their contributions. We -are told that we have circumscribed too much the field of their -labors, by objecting to such materials as are drawn from foreign -character and manners,—and we are gently reminded of an apparent -inconsistency, between our professed attachment to domestic subjects, -and the admission into our columns of copious extracts from an English -novel. We are moreover informed from the same intelligent source, that -our denunciation of all such fictions as are founded upon fairy -mythology, is not very reasonable,—inasmuch as these may imbody the -conceptions of imagination and genius—and may serve to illustrate and -display Virginia talent and literature.</p> - -<p>Now, with due deference to these various suggestions, which we know to -originate in perfect good will—it is proper in the first place to -remark, that we do not perceive any inconsistency between our -objection to "the trammels of foreign reading"—and the admission into -our pages of good selections from foreign publications. The -"Messenger" is designed chiefly to encourage the practice of literary -composition among our own writers of both sexes,—and of literary -composition there are great varieties,—some founded on fact and -personal observation, and some which are moulded exclusively out of -the creations of fancy. A writer who will give us facts or sketches of -the character and manners, or scenery of a foreign country, derived -either from his own observation or authentic sources, will render an -acceptable service;—but, in a pure tale of fiction, or in descriptive -narrative, founded for the most part upon the mere inventions of -genius—why is it necessary or proper to slight the familiar materials -which every where surround us, and resort to those hackneyed and -frequently distorted pictures of transatlantic manners, of which we -can only form just conceptions through the secondary medium of books? -If we must have foreign tales for our amusement and instruction, had -we not better take them from those who copy from life, and are more -likely to present faithful and finished sketches! Let foreign writers, -therefore, give us pictures of their own,—and such, as we like we -will publish; but let our own adventurers in the paths of literature, -prefer rather to stand upon ground with which they are acquainted. Let -them weave their garlands with flowers plucked from our native wilds, -or our own cultivated gardens, and not rely, as too many do rely, upon -exotic ornaments wherewith to embellish their pages. It is true that a -<i>strict</i> observance of any such rule as this is not to be expected and -is perhaps not practicable—and we are perfectly aware, that -illustrious examples may be found in our own, as well as in other -countries, of a departure from its letter if not from its spirit. -These examples for the most part, however, will be found on -examination, to rest on peculiar circumstances. The genius of a Scott, -may soar amidst the grandeur of Alpine scenery,—or may depict the -curious superstitions and simple manners of the Shetland -Islanders;—but minds like his,—of such incomparable vigor and -fertility, are neither bound by the confines of space or time. They -have a kind of exclusive privilege to transcend ordinary rules,—and -those who would plead their example, ought at least to shew something -like extraordinary merit to entitle them to the same exemption. If we -look to our own country, it is well understood, that Mr. Cooper owes -his reputation as a writer of fiction principally to those fine -romances, which are founded upon native character and scenery—and -that, if that reputation has suffered at all, it is in consequence of -his desertion of a field so wide and magnificent, for the beaten and -monotonous track of European character and customs. Mr. Irving is -undoubtedly most indebted for his literary fame to such of his -productions as are purely American; and it is probable that in the -future estimate which will be formed of his powers and genius, his -Bracebridge Hall, and the Tales of the Alhambra, will hold no -comparison in the scale of merit with his Knickerbocker, or -Salmagundi. But why amplify our illustrations? We will present no -absolute rule on the subject,—but rather choose to throw out these -opinions and suggestions to our readers and contributors, as matter -for their consideration.</p> - -<p>In respect to the Legends of Fairy land,—which give such illimitable -scope to the fancy—and operate so feebly, if at all, in imparting -either rational amusement or instruction,—we confess that our -opinions are more decided and our objections more insurmountable. We -think that the day has past when such kind of reading will either be -relished or endured. In this age of comparative mental -sobriety,—aliment like that, is not likely to satisfy the -intellectual appetite; no more than the spectre tales of the last -century would suit the rational and regulated taste of the present -time. This opinion it is not necessary to enforce by a train of -reasoning. We think that a large majority of our readers will concur -in the sentiment.</p> - -<p>We are also informed from more than one quarter, that we awarded too -liberal and dangerous a compliment in our last number, to one article -especially, to wit—the "<i>Recollections of Chotank;</i>"—that we have -thereby, without intending it, given a sanction to vices which were -once fashionable, but now no longer so: that we have offended against -the laws of that chaste empress, T<small>EMPERANCE</small>,—who sits enthroned in so -many hearts, and who will not countenance the slightest inuendo -against her sovereignty; and that we have actually been guilty of the -sin of commending a paper, which contained enticing references to the -social excesses and abuses of ancient hospitality. To all this we -reply, that we spoke of the "<i>Recollections of Chotank</i>" as a -<i>literary</i> composition,—and that we had no more design, in the -tribute which we paid to its merit, to recommend the vices of -"gambling and drinking," than we believe the author himself had, when -he sat down to sketch his reminiscences of by-gone days. We hope that -the most fastidious will be content with this disclaimer.</p> - -<p>It is impossible that the "Messenger" can always please each one of -its readers. Its contents must be necessarily varied—and it will -often happen, that an article which will dissatisfy one person, will -be particularly acceptable to another. So it is on the stage, at the -forum, and in the pulpit. Some will loath that very part of the -performance, the argument or doctrine, which will inspire others with -delight. As we cannot possibly please all, we must endeavor to satisfy -the greater number, and in so doing we may probably please ourselves. -There is one thing of which our readers and patrons may rest assured, -that we shall never knowingly countenance any thing either false in -taste, or wrong in morals;—and we hold—that purity in both, is -necessary to the dignity and value of literature.</p> - -<p>We have been gently reprimanded by some of our friends for not -confining ourselves exclusively to <i>original matter</i>, whilst others -have thought, that a few more good <i>selections</i> would add to the value -of our pages. Such is the "incurable diversity of human opinion." Our -own view of the subject is so much better expressed by a distinguished -writer, than we can do it—that we shall give below in the "<i>Extracts -from the letters of our correspondents</i>," a full quotation from his -letter.</p> - -<p>But what shall we say of the contents of the present number?—shall we -say nothing, least peradventure we may say too much? Must we be -altogether silent, in order that our patrons may judge for themselves, -unbiassed by our own humble opinion? We cannot in conscience be so -uncivil as not to return the kindness of our friends, with the simple -expression of our thanks; and if perchance we should so far suffer our -good feelings to master our judgment, as to bestow praise where none -is due, we feel confident that the superior discernment, and more -enlightened taste of our readers, will correct the error.</p> - -<p>Let us therefore take a rapid survey of the feast which we have -spread. Perhaps our bill of fare may tempt curiosity and whet the -appetite.</p> - -<p>The article entitled "<i>Sketches of the History and Present Condition -of Tripoli</i>," will be read and admired, not only for the style, but -the really valuable and interesting information it contains. The -source from which it comes may be fully relied on.</p> - -<p>The domestic grievances of "<i>Belinda</i>" are we hope not without remedy. -Time and strict regimen may perhaps restore her dyspeptic consort to a -more equable frame. His humors have at least had the effect of -supplying us with a good article.</p> - -<p>The "<i>Reporter's Story, or the Importance of a Syllable</i>," is by a -practised writer,—whose pen is humorous, caustic and brilliant, as -occasion requires. We should be glad to secure his constant -assistance.</p> - -<p>The "<i>Cottage in the Glen</i>," is by a lady not unknown as a writer. -There are few who will not admire the simplicity and beauty of her -narrative; and to such as are of a serious or religious cast of mind -it will be particularly interesting. We hope that the authoress will -often favor us with the productions of her pen.</p> - -<p>The "<i>Alleghany Levels</i>," is by a gentleman of scientific acquirements -and classical taste. It is with peculiar pleasure that we insert in -the "Messenger" such articles as his and "<i>The Cyclopean Towers in -Augusta County, Virginia</i>." They develope some of those rare -curiosities and remarkable features in the scenery of our state, which -have hitherto been undescribed. The latter article is by one who -possesses a cultivated taste for the beautiful in art and nature.</p> - -<p>The story of "<i>My Classmates</i>," will be read when it is known to -proceed from the author of "An Extract from a Novel," which was -inserted in the last number of the Messenger. The space which the -story occupies will be its greatest recommendation; it is one of -thrilling interest, and told in powerful language.</p> - -<p>We know not how all our readers will relish "<i>Cupid's Sport</i>," but -there are some passages in it which Yorick himself would not have been -ashamed to write, even with "the high claims and terrifying exactions" -of the widow Wadman's eyes to inspire him.</p> - -<p>"<i>Pinkney's Eloquence</i>," it will be seen is from the pen of "Nugator." -His pieces need no commendation from us; we are charmed with every -thing about them except the signature.</p> - -<p>The "<i>Leaf from the Journal of a Young American Tourist</i>," we noticed -in our last number. It is a graphic sketch, from the port-folio of an -accomplished young traveller.</p> - -<p>The "<i>Dandy Chastised</i>," will be relished by all who desire to see -that anomolous species lampooned out of countenance.</p> - -<p>The <i>selections</i> in the present number are accompanied by prefatory -remarks. "<i>The Letters from New England</i>," the first of which is -inserted, though originally published in the Fredericksburg Arena, -have been revised and corrected by their author expressly for the -"Messenger." They deserve a more enduring record than the columns of a -newspaper.</p> - -<p>The suggestion has been made to us by one entitled to respect, that in -the present condition of the public taste, too much space has been -allotted in our columns to the productions of the Muse. We humbly hope -that our friend is mistaken in this opinion. Nothing would grieve us -more than the conviction that, among southern readers generally, there -was not felt a lively concern and growing interest in the successful -cultivation of that charming branch of literature; and indeed if this -were the proper place, we think we could easily demonstrate that -poetry exercises a most potent, diffusive and abiding influence upon -the interests and happiness of society. Our present number will be -found to contain some precious gems, which fully establish the claims -of southern genius to high capabilities in the tuneful art. We forbear -however to discriminate, confident that the taste of our readers will -readily discern all that feeble language could express.</p> -<br> -<br> -<hr align="center" width="100"><a name="sect35"></a> -<br> -<br> -<h4>EXTRACTS FROM THE LETTERS OF CORRESPONDENTS.</h4> - -<h5>FROM PENNSYLVANIA.</h5> -<div align="right"><i>Philadelphia, Nov. 4, 1834</i>. </div> - -<blockquote>"I thank you truly for your obliging attention in sending to me the -two numbers of your 'S<small>OUTHERN</small> L<small>ITERARY</small> M<small>ESSENGER</small>,' which I have read -with much satisfaction. I look with a deep interest and pleasure upon -every effort to raise up the literary character of our country; to lay -the foundations of a pure and sound taste, and to stimulate our native -genius to develop and strengthen its powers. In the encouragement of -these attempts, we should all act and feel as the citizens of the -American republic, disregarding sectional divisions, and undisturbed -by questions of state rights and constitutional scruples and -constructions. Here we should be a consolidated people, and whether -the candidate for fame be a native of the north or south, the east or -west, we should claim him as our own, belonging to all alike. When I -hear of the establishment of a seminary of learning; of a scientific -or literary publication; of an invention in the arts; in short, of any -thing which sheds abroad the light of American genius and power, its -particular location is, with me, quite a secondary consideration, -scarcely, indeed, considered at all. It is enough for me that I can -say to the supercilious European, <i>this is American</i>.</blockquote> - -<blockquote>"With these sentiments, you may be assured that I wish success to your -endeavor to rouse the spirit of the South in the cause of literature; -to draw its intellectual energies from the everlasting and monotonous -discussion of politics, which has run the same round of topics and -arguments for forty years, and to allure her favored sons and -daughters to the kinder and brighter fields of science and letters. If -you shall be able to continue as you have begun, your subscribers will -be amply remunerated for their patronage, and your contributors may be -proud to see their lucubrations on your pages. It is well that you do -not confine yourself to original compositions, but mix them with -judicious and interesting selections from works of established -reputation. Repeated experience has shewn that an editor cannot depend -much upon the voluntary contributions of our own writers, however -friendly to his design, who are too much occupied with their own -concerns and the serious business of life, to be relied on as the -support of such an enterprise as yours.... We have not yet a class or -body of <i>authors by profession;</i> writing is -the occupation of hours snatched from business, or the amusement of -the few who have leisure for indulgence."</blockquote> - -<hr align="center" width="50"> - -<h5>FROM THE VALLEY OF VIRGINIA.</h5> - -<blockquote>"I look with much anxiety to your <i>Launch</i>, (which I wish had been the -title of your work)—the first of any promise in Virginia, heartily -desiring it God-speed—yet fearing that you may meet with some -inaptitude or distaste to mere literary contribution from the educated -of our citizens. This, however, cannot last long; you may feel it at -the outset, but it will soon end; for I doubt not that the Messenger, -as one of its best effects, will draw into literary exercise the -talents which now lie fallow throughout the community, or which have -long extravasated in politics and professions. The mind of Virginia is -unquestionably a quarry from which much that is precious may be -extracted; and you may and I hope will be able to expose its strata to -the light, as the huntsman of the Andes exposed to the eye of the -world, at the foot of the yielding shrub which he had seized upon for -support, how rich and vast was the treasure which an unexamined -surface had concealed."</blockquote> - -<hr align="center" width="50"> - -<h5>FROM SOUTHERN VIRGINIA.</h5> - -<blockquote>"Be assured no effort on my part will be wanting to extend the -circulation of the Messenger, and nothing would give me more unfeigned -pleasure than being instrumental in the promotion of so laudable an -enterprise. Your periodical is truly a pioneer in the cause of -southern literature; and reasoning from the general character of the -southern people, no other conclusion can be legitimately drawn, than a -highly enlarged, extensive and honorable patronage. That this may be -the case, permit me to add an ardent hope to my unqualified belief. We -have been too long tributary to the north; it is time, high time, to -awake from our lethargy—to rise in the majesty of our intellectual -strength, put on the panoply of talents and genius, and <i>strike</i> for -the 'prize of our high calling' in literature. If the object of your -labors be attained, of which there can be no reasonable doubt, -posterity will be more grateful to you than to thousands of the -<i>political exquisites</i> of the day, whose memory will last just so long -as their ephemeral productions."</blockquote> - -<hr align="center" width="50"> - -<h5>FROM EASTERN VIRGINIA.</h5> - -<blockquote>"I shall endeavor to avail myself of the offer of your columns, and -if, as you propose, your periodical shall be issued monthly, I may -probably contribute my full quota to every number. In doing so, I -shall try to remember that I am writing for a <i>literary</i> work, and one -which leans much on the support of light readers. I shall therefore -endeavor to treat grave topics with as little gravity as the nature of -the case may admit of; drawing my reasons less from authority than -from common sense and the nature of things, and addressing them to the -untaught feelings of the heart, rather than to what is falsely -contradistinguished as reason and judgment. I say <i>falsely</i>, because -when the mind is once broken in by the discipline of a spurious -philosophy, it is too apt to throw out its view all considerations -incapable of being established by any regular chain of reasoning. Yet -these are often entitled to be regarded as first principles; and their -proof is found in nature, and in the universal acquiescence of -mankind, the more conclusive, because it does not rest on reason, but -on a sort of moral instinct. If men wrote less for fame and more for -effect, I am persuaded they would find it rarely necessary to conduct -the reader through a long process of ratiocination, and that the -important end (conviction) would be often best accomplished by those -striking exhibitions of truth which make it manifest at a glance. Such -is the case with most of those great truths on which the rights, and -duties, and happiness of men depend. On such subjects truth vindicates -her title to respect by her very presence. 'She walks a queen,' and -the heart gives its homage, and compels the acquiescence of the -understanding, without stopping to look into her patent of royalty. -Does any man doubt such truths? No. Can they be proved? No; and -<i>therefore</i> they are the more certainly true. The fact that they are -universally accepted, is a <i>fact</i> to reason from; and it is the -philosophy that teaches to overlook such facts that I call false.</blockquote> - -<blockquote>"How often, when a man takes up his pen to elaborate a long course of -reasoning, does he find himself attempting to lead his reader along a -track that his own mind did not travel. Can he wonder that his reader -will not consent to be so led? Does he think that he alone has the -privilege of travelling the high road of common sense, which levels -mountains and lifts up vallies, and that others will permit themselves -to be led a roundabout way, picking their steps with painful accuracy -along the dividing ridge between 'right hand extremes and left hand -defections?' And why does he attempt this? Merely to show that he is -too profound, and too philosophical to take any thing for granted."</blockquote> - -<hr align="center" width="50"> - -<blockquote>"Accept my thanks for the Southern Literary Messenger. Its contents I -have perused with pleasure. Its execution is not to be surpassed in -accuracy and neatness. Can a discerning public withhold encouragement, -especially when the benefits will be mutual? Indeed I consider the -advantages more likely to be on the side of the public provided a -liberal spirit prevail, and the well stored minds of the South -contribute to establish, through the Messenger, that high literary -reputation which is within their power to erect. The pride of the Old -Dominion should respond to your appeal by a generous contribution of -subscriptions and mental effusions. Please consider me a subscriber."</blockquote> - -<hr align="center" width="50"> - -<blockquote>"The reception of your Literary Messenger gave me much pleasure, and I -thank you for your polite attention in sending it. The cause you have -in hand is one very dear to my heart, and I sincerely wish you -success; I must not omit, however, to testify my zeal in a more -substantial way, and accordingly send you five dollars, and desire to -be considered a subscriber, and promise to use every exertion to -procure you others."</blockquote> - -<hr align="center" width="50"> - -<h5>FROM MIDDLE VIRGINIA.</h5> - -<blockquote>"... Taking now as many papers as I can well pay for, I am induced to -support the Messenger nevertheless, from the great anxiety which I -feel for the progress of literature in the South, and to show to the -country that the soil of the Old Dominion, so fertile in the -production of patriots and statesmen, can also support and rear to age -the bright scions which adorn smoother and more ornamented fields. I -feel that this is a solemn duty, which the youth of Virginia owe to -the memory of their fathers,—the mantles of whose patriotism have -descended upon them unsoiled; to men who were cast upon so rough a sea -as to have little time to think of any thing else save the dangers -around them: their whole lives having been spent in bringing the noble -vessel, freighted with every thing dear to American bosoms, into a -safe harbor, where she has ever since continued to ride triumphantly -in prosperity and glory, it can be nothing more than sheer justice in -us to raise this 'tardy bust' to buried merit. As almost the pioneer -in this noble undertaking, I bid you God speed, and I trust that the -success of your paper may not only blot out the only spot on the -escutcheon of Virginia, but in every way equal your most sanguine -expectations."</blockquote> - -<hr align="center" width="50"> - -<h5>FROM A SOUTH CAROLINIAN.</h5> - -<blockquote>"The objects you have undertaken to accomplish, and which, judging -from your prospectus and the character the public have given of your -paper and yourself, will most certainly be attained, are highly -meritorious and praiseworthy. Such a periodical has been long desired -at the south, whose literary reputation is far inferior to that of the -north—to awaken the dormant faculties—to arouse the ambition, and -direct and concentrate the energies of a people, whose abilities are -<i>at least equal</i> to those of any class of men on earth. Incitement is -all that is wished, and your paper, southern in its principles, and -established in a southern city, will produce it, if any thing can. -Capacity it is well known is not deficient. Only bring it fairly into -play, and your columns will, and a hundred such would be filled with -the most valuable matter—with the most finished efforts in every -branch of literature."</blockquote> - -<hr align="center" width="50"> - -<h5>FROM THE DISTRICT OF COLUMBIA.</h5> - -<blockquote>"I have yours, with the several copies of the Literary Messenger, -which I will dispose of to the best advantage, and shall be happy if I -can be instrumental in circulating extensively in the West, a -periodical that promises so much, and in its first number presents -evidences so flattering, of the genius and refined taste of -Virginians. I hope you will find ample encouragement to persevere in -your work. The pride of Virginia,—<i>the mother of states</i>,—will -surely not allow a work such as yours to fail for the want of -patronage."</blockquote> -<br> -<br> -<hr align="center" width="100"><a name="sect36"></a> -<br> -<br> -<h4>ACKNOWLEDGMENTS TO CONTRIBUTORS, &C.</h4> - -<p>We regret that various articles of merit both in prose and verse are -necessarily excluded from the present number. Among the former, -"<i>Hints to Students in Geology</i>"—"<i>Eloquence</i>"—"<i>The March of -Mind</i>"—and the "<i>Description of a Fourth of July Celebration</i>," shall -certainly appear in December. Among the latter, "<i>Lines to D——</i>," by -a lady—"<i>Beauty and Time</i>"—"<i>Autumn Woods</i>"—"<i>Powhatan;</i>" and -"<i>Lines Suggested on Viewing the Ruins of Jamestown</i>," shall be -published.</p> - -<p>So also shall appear "<i>The Invocation to Religion</i>," and other pieces -by our esteemed correspondent "L."</p> - -<p>We hope that our talented friends of Mobile and Tuscaloosa will be -patient. We could only delight our readers with a part of their -contributions in the present number. We greet the literary spirit of -our young sister of the southwest.</p> - -<p>We regret being obliged to decline the publication in the present -number of the lines on "<i>The Creation of the Antelope</i>," being unable -to decipher some of the words in the copy sent. Can we be favored by -our correspondent "C" with another copy?</p> - -<p>We have placed <i>Mr. French's Grammar</i> in the hands of a skilful -philologist for examination.</p> - -<p>We have been favored with a sight of the <i>Poetical Manuscripts</i> of the -late excellent and lamented <i>Mrs. Jean Wood</i>, and we shall take the -earliest opportunity to present some selections from them to the -notice of our readers.</p> - -<p>The essay on "<i>Luxury</i>" was received too late for the present number.</p> - -<p>We are unable to decipher the manuscript of "<i>Alive</i>."</p> - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Southern Literary Messenger, Vol. -I., No. 3, November, 1834, by Various - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SOUTHERN LITERARY MESSENGER, NOV 1834 *** - -***** This file should be named 53501-h.htm or 53501-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/3/5/0/53501/ - -Produced by Ron Swanson -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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