The Courant

THE COURANT, A Southern Literary Journal.

Howard H. Caldwell, Editor] " Sic vos non vobis. " [Wm. W. WALKER, JR., & CO., PROPRIETORS

VOLUME I. COLUMBIA, S. C., THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 17, 1859. NUMBER 29

For the Courant. GEMS FROM THE DEAD. BY LIZZIR CLARENDON.

Lines on the Death of a Young Girl, Cousin to the Writer.

Thy mortal life is ended, Isabel But where its stream has wended, Isabel, By memory's faithful light We wander thro' the night Which sorrow's clouds have closed around our world, To view it on its course, Flowing with gentle force, Until its spirit-barque her sails have furl'd !

Its margin glows with flowers, Isabel, Dropped by the rosy hours, Isabel, When, in that happy time, In childhood's sunny clime, The sky looked cloudless on a world so fair; When pleasures came in troops, And joys in close-linked groups, To gaze into its depths with vision clear.

But thorn begin to mingle, Isabel! Where flower-bells wont to tingle, Isabel! Youth brings us deeper life, But with it comes the strife That turns the sparkling waters into foam! The stream, tho' pure and clear, Throws back a shadow near, Whispering the spirit - "This is not thy home!"

That shadow fell on thee, fair Isabel! That whisper came to thee, dear Isabel! And now we see thee not In each familiar spot; The stream has merged its gentle, rippling tide In that unbounded sea, Where storm nor cloud may be, And safely there thy spirit-barque doth glide!

MUSIC AND POETRY. Who is there that, in logical words, can express the effect music has upon us kind of inarticulate, unfathomable speech, which leads us to the edge of the infinite, and lets us for moments gaze into that. Song seems, some how, the very central essence of us; as if all the rest were wrappers and hulls! All inmost things are melodious -naturally utter themselves in song The meaning of song goes deep. The Greeks fabled of sphere harmonies: it was the feeling they had of the inner structure of nature; that the soul of all her voices and utterances was perfect. The poet is he who thinks in that manner." It turns still on powers of intellect; it is a man's sincerity and depth of vision that makes him a poet. See deep enough, and you see musically; the heart of nature being every where music, if you can only reach it. Carlyle.

A RED-FACED GHOST, who was not quite sober, attempted to play in Hamlet at a country theatre. At length the curtain rose and the play commenced. Every thing passed off quietly enough till the ghost made his appearance, when there arose a continuous groar of laughter. A ghost with red face was a novel thing, and the said ghost keeping his legs with extreme diffculty. But the noise subsided, and the play progressed smoothly, till the scene in which Hamlet, Horatio and the officers appear.

Hamlet What ! looked he frowningly ? Horatio--A countenance more in sorrow than in anger. Hamlet--Pale or red ? Horatio -Nay, very red. "So red, indeed, that he looked as if he came from the very depths of the infernal regions, my lord."

MRS. PARTINGTON wants to know, If it were not intended that women should drive their husbands, why are they put through the bridle ceremony WHAT poet do miners most value? Coleridge.

[COLUMN 2]

THE LION IN THE TOILS. BY C. ASTOR BRlSTED. WHAT followed the events related in our last number gave Ashburner a lesson against making up his mind too hastily on any points of character, national or individual. A fortnight after his arrival at Oldport he would have said that the Americans were the most communicative people he had ever fallen in with, and particularly that the men of "our set" were utterly incapable of keeping secret any act or purpose of their lives, any thing that had happened, or was going to happen. Now he was surprised at the discretion shewn by the men cognizant of the late row (and they comprised all the fashionables left in the place, and some of the outsiders, like Simpson) ; their dexterity and careful management, first, to prevent the affair from coming to a fight, and then, if that were impossible, to keep it from publicity until the parties were safe over the border into Canada, where they might "shoot each other like gentlemen," as a young gentleman from Alabama expressed it. Sedly himself, whose officiousness had precipitated the quarrel, did all in his power to prevent any further mischief, and was as sedulous for the promotion of silencio and misterio, as if he had been leader of a chorus of Venetian Senators. The Sewer reporters, who, in their eagerness to collect every bit of gossip and scandal, would have given the ears which an outraged community had permitted them to retain for a knowledge of the fracas and its probable consequences, never had the least inkling of it. Indeed, so quietly was the whole managed, that Ashburner never made out the cause of the old feud, nor was able to form any opinion on the probability of its final issue. On the former point he could only come to the conclusion, from what he heard, that Hunter had been mythologizing, as his wont was, something to Benson's discredit several years before, and had been trying to make mischief between him and some of his friends or relations; but what the exact offence was, whether Sumner was involved in the quarrel from the first, and if so, to what extent; and whether the legend about the horse was a part of, or only an addition to the original grievance; on these particulars he remained in the dark. As to the latter, he knew that Hunter had not challenged Benson, and that he had left the place, but whether to look up a friend or not, no one seemed to know, or if they did, no one cared to tell. At any rate, he did not return for a week and more, during which time Ashburner had full opportunity of studying the behaviour and feelings of a man with a duel in prospect.

Those who defend and advocate the practice of dueling, if asked to explain the motives leading a gentleman to fight, would generally answer somewhat to this effect: in the first place, personal courage, which induces a man to despise danger and death, in comparison with any question affecting his own honour, or that of those connected with him; secondly, a respect for the opinion of the society in which he moves, which opinion, to a certain extent, supplies and fixes the definition of honour. Hence it would follow that, given a man who is neither physically brave, nor bound by any particular respect for the opinion of his dailY associates, and the world he moves in, such a man would not be

[COLUMN 3]

likely to give or accept a challenge. The case under Ashburner's observation afforded a palpable, contradiction to this conclusion.

Henry Benson was not personally valorous ; what courage he possessed was rather of a moral than a physical kind. Where he appeared to be daring and heedless, it proved on examination to be the result of previous knowledge and practice, which gave him confidence and armed him with impunity. Thus he would drive his trotters at any thing, and shave through " tight places on rough and crowded roads, his whiffle-trees tipping and his hubs grazing the surrounding wheels in 8 way that at first made Ashburner shudder in spite of himself; but it was because his experience in wagondriving enabled him to measure distances within halfan-inch, and to catch an available opening immediately. On the other hand, in their pedestrian trips across the country in Winchester, he was very chary of jumping fences or ditches till he had ascertained by careful practice his exact capacity for that sort of exercise. He would ride his black horse, Daredevil, who was the terror of all the servants and women in his neighbourhood, because he had made himself perfectly acquainted with all the animal's stock of tricks, and was fully prepared for them as they came ; but he never went the first trip in a new steamboat or railroad line. He ate and drank many things considered unhealthy, because he understood exactly from experience what and how much he could take without injury but you could not have bribed him to sit fifteen minutes in wet boots. In short, he was a man who took excellent care of himself, canny as a Scot or a New-Englander, loving the good things of life, and net disposed to hazard them on slight grounds. Then, as to the approbation or disapprobation of those about him, he was almost entirely careless of it. On any point beyond the cut of a coat, the decoration of a roOM, the concoction of a dish, or the merits of a horse, there were not ten people in his own set whose opinion he heeded. To the remarks of foreigners he was a little more sensitive, but even these he was more apt to retort upon by a fu quoque than to be influenced by. Add to all this, that he had the convenient excuse of being a communicant at church, which, in America, implies something like a formal profession of religion.- Yet at this time he was not only willing, but most eager to fight. The secret lay in his state of recklessness.- A moment of passion had overturned all his instincts, principles, and common sense, and inspired him with the feverish desire to pay off his old debts to Storey Hunter, at whatever cost. And as neither the possession of extraordinary personal courage, nor a high sense of conventional honour, nor a respect for the opinion of society, necessarily induces a feeling of recklessness, so neither does the absence of these qualities prevent the presence of this feeling, exactly the most favourable one to make man engage in duel. Moralists have called such a condition one of temporary madness, and it has probably as good grounds to be classed with insanity as many of the pleas known to medical and criminal jurisprudence.

Be this as it may, Ashburner had a good opportunity of observing and the example, it is to be hoped, was of service to him the demoralization induced upon man by the mere impending possibility of duel. Benson seemed careless what he did. He danced frantical

226 THE COURANT ; A SOUTHERN LITERARY JOURNAL

[COLUMN 1]

ly, and drank so much at all hours, that the Englishman, though pretty strong-headed himself, wondered how he could keep sober. He was openly seen reading The Blackguard's Own, a weekly of The Sewer species. He made up trotting-matches with every man in the place who owned a "fast crab," and with some acquaintances at a distance, by correspondence. He kept studiously out of the way of his wife and child, lest their influence might shake his determination. All this time he practiced pistol-shooting most religiously. Neither of the belligerents had ever given a public proof of skill in this line. Hunter's ability was not known, and Benson's shooting was so uncertain and vriable when any one looked on, that those in the secret suspected him of playing dark and disguising his hand. All which added to the interest of the affair.

But when eleven days had passed without signs or tidings of Hunter, and it seemed pretty clear that he had gone away "for good," Benson started up one morning, and went off himself to New York, at the same time with Harrison, whose brief and not very joyous holidays had come to a conclusion. He accompained the banker, in accordance with the true American principle, always to have a lion for your companion when you can; and as Harrison was still a man of note in Wall-street, however small might be his influence in his own household, Benson liked to be seen with him, and to talk any thing --even stocks-- to him, though he had no particular interest in the market at the time. But, whether an American is in business himself or not, the subject of business is generally an interesting one to him, and he is always ready to gossip about dollars. The unexampled material development of the United States is only maintained by a condition of society which requires every man to take a share in assisting that development, and the most frivolous and apparently idle men are found sharp enough in pecuniary matters. This trait of national character lies on the surface, and foreigners have not been slow to notice it, and to draw from it unfavourable conclusions. The supplementary and counterbalancing features of character to be observed in these very people,-- that it is rather the fun of making the money than the money itself, which they care for; that when it is made, they spend it freely; and part with it more readily than they earned it; that they are more liberal both in their public and private charities (considering the amount of their wealth, and of the claims upon it) than any nation in the world,--all these traits strangers have been less ready to dwell upon and do justice to.

Benson was gone and Ashburner stayed. Why? He had been at Oldport nearly a month; the place was not particularly beautiful, and the routine of amusements not at all to his taste. Why did he stay? He had his secret, too.

It is melancholy but indisputable fact, that even in the most religous and moral country in the world, the bulwark of evangelical faith, and the home of the domestic virtues (meaning, of course, England), a great many mothers who have daughters to marry, are not so anxious about the real welfare, temporal and eternal, of their young ladies, as solicitous that they should acquire riches, titles, and other vanities of the world,-- nay, that many of the daughters themselves act as if their everlasting happiness depended on their securing in matrimony a proper combination of the aforesaid vanities, and put out of account altogether the greatest prize a woman can gain-- the possession of a true and loving heart, joined to a wise head. Now, Ashburner being a very good parti at home, and having run the gauntlet of one or two London seasons, had become very skittish of mammas, and still more so of daughters. He regarded the unmarried female as a most dangerous and altogether-to-be-avoided animal, and when you offered to introduce him to a young lady, looked about as grateful as if you had invited him to go up in a balloon. He expected to be rather persecuted, if any thing, in America than he had been at home; and when he met Miss Vanderlyn at Ravenswood, if his first thought had found articulate expression, it would probably have been

[COLUMN 2]

something like this : -- "Now that young woman is going to set her cap at me; what a core it will be! " Never was a man more mistaken in his anticipations. He encountered many pretty girls, not a all timid, ready enough to talk, and flirtly enough among their own set, but not one of them threw herself at him, and least of all did Miss Vanderlyn. Not that the young lady was the victim of a romantic attachment, for she was perfectly fancy free and heart whole ; nor, on the other hand, that she was at all insensible to the advantages of matrimony, for she kept a very fair look-out in that direction, and had, if not absolutely down on her books, at least engraved on the recording tablets of her mind, four distinct young gentlemen, combining the proper requisites, any of whom would suit her pretty well, and one of whom-- she didn't much care which-- she was pretty well resolved to marry within the next two years. And as she was stylish, and rather handsome, clever enough, and tolerably provided with the root of all evil, besides having that fortunate good humour and accommodating disposition which go so far towards making a woman a belle and a favourite, there was a sufficient probability that beffore the expiration of that time, one of the four would offer himself. But all her calculations were founded on shrewd common sense; her imagination took no flights, and her aspirations only extended to the ordinary and possible. That this young and strange Englishman, travelling as a part of education, the son of a great man, and probably betrothed by proxy to some great man's daughter, or going into parliament to be a great man himself, and remain a bachelor for the best part of his life,-- that between him and herself there should be any thing in common, any point of union which could make even a flirtation feasible, never entered into her head. She would as soon have expected the King of Dahomey to send an embassy with ostrich feathers in their caps, and rings in their noses, formally to ask her hand in marriage. Nay, even if the incredible event had come to pass, and the young stranger had taken the initiative, even then she would not by any means jumped at the bait. For, in the first place, she was fully imbued with the idea that the Vanderlyns were quite as good as any other people in the world, and that (the ordinary conceit of an American belle) to whatever man she might give her hand, all the honour would come from her side, and all the gain be his; therefore she would not have cared to come into a family who might suspect her of having inveigled their heir, and look down upon her as something beneath them, because she came from a country where there were no noblemen. Secondly, there is a very general feeling among the best classes in America, that no European worth any thing at home comes to America to get married. The idea is evidently an imperfect generalization, and liable to exceptions; but the prevalence of its shews were modesty in the "Upper Ten's" appreciation of themselves than they usually have credit for. As soon, therefore, as a foreigner begins to pay attention to a young lady in good society, it is prima facie ground of suspicion against him. The reader will see from all this how little chance there was of Ashburner's running any danger from the unmarried women about him. With the married ones the case was somewhat different. It may be remembered, that at his first introduction to Mrs. Henry Benson, the startling contrast she exhibited to the adulation he had been accustomed to receive, totally put him down; and that afterwards she softened off the rough edge of her satire, and became very piquante and pleasing to him. And as she greatly amused him, so he began to suspect that she was rather proud of having such a lion to her train, as no doubt she was, notwithstanding the somewhat rough and cub-like stage of his existence. So he began to hang about her, and follow her around in his green, awkward way, and look large notes of admiration at her; and she was greatly diverted, and not at all displeased at his attentions. I don't know how far it might have gone; Ashburner was a very correct and moral young man, as the world goes, but rather because he had generally business enough on hand to keep him out of mischief,

[COLUMN 3]

than from any high religious principle; and I am afraid that in spite of the claims of propiety, and honour, and friendship, and the avenging Zeus of hospitality, and every other restraining motive, he would have fallen very much in love with Mrs. Benson, but for one thing. He was hopelessly in love with Mrs. Harrison. How or when it began he couldn't tell; but he found himself under the influence imperceptibly, as a man feels himself intoxicated. Sometimes he fancied that there had been a kind of love at first sight-- that with the first glimpse he had of her, something in his heart told him that that woman was destined to exert a mastery over him; yet his feelings must have undergone a change and growth, for he would now now have listened to any one speaking of her as Benson had done at that time. Why it was, he could still less divine. His was certainly not the blind admiration which sees no fault in its idol; he saw her faults plainly enough, and yet could not help himself. He often asked himself how it happened that if he was doomed to endure an illicit and unfortunate passion, it was not for Mrs. Benson rather than Mrs. Harrison; for the former was at least clever, certainly handsomer, palpably younger, indubitably more ladylike, and altogether a higher style of woman. Yet with this just appreciation of them, there was no comparion as to his feelings towards the two. The one amused and delighted him when present; the other, in her absense, was ever rising before his mind's eye, and drawing him after her ; and when they met, his heart beat quicker, and he was more than usually awkward and confused. Perhaps there had been, in the very origin of his entanglement and passion, some guiding impulse and honour, some sense that Benson had been his friend and entertainer, and that to Harrison he was under no personal obligations. For there are many shades of honour and dishonour in dishonourable thoughts, and a little principle goes a great way with some people, like the wind commemorated by Joe Miller's Irishman, of which there was not much, but what there was, was very high. Be this as it may, he was loving to perdition-- or thought so, at least; and it is hard to discriminate in a very young man's case between the conceit and the reality of love. His whole heart and mind were taken up with one great, all-pervading idea of Mrs. Harrison, and he was equally unable to smother and to express his flame. He was dying to make her a present of something, but he could send nothing without a fear of exciting suspicion, except bouquets; and of these floral luxuries, though they were only to be procured at Old-port with much trouble and expense, she had always a supply from other quarters. He did not like to be one of a number in his offerings; he wanted to pay her some peculiar tribute. He would have liked to fight some man for her, to pick a quarrel with some one who had said something against her. Proud and sensitive to ridicule as he was, he would have laid himself down in her way, and let her walk over him, could he have persuaded himself that she would be gratified by such a proof of devotion, and that it would help his cause with her.

[[CONCLUDED IN OUR NEXT.]]

"ONE BYRON."--The most contemptous taunt of insignificance has always been to call a man "one"-- as if a man could be more than one-- but it will be consolation, to those who are so reproachfully designated, that Byron was not only called "one Byron." but "this individual." The Paris correspondent of the London Globe has raked out from the papers of an old bookstand, a police report furnished to the Austrain Governor at Venice during Lord Byron's stay at Ravenna. It is dated from Rome, October 2, 1819, stating the poet Lord's departure from that place, and intention of visiting Venice :--- " On the twelth of this month an English peer, one Byron, starts from Rome ; he passes for a poet in his own country, and is suspected of affiliation with the society of Roma Antica-- at least, his style of writing has been described to me as of the 'romantic school', which I presume means carbonaro. He is known for the exaggeration of his liberalism. I have seen reason to keep an eye on this individual." ---------------------------------------------------------------- If you want an ignoramus to respect you, "dress to death," and wear watch-seals about the size of brickbats.

[END OF PAGE]

THE COURANT A SOUTHERN LITERARY JOURNAL

A GRAND CONCERT--A LADY'S DESCRIPTION•

The Handel Centenary Concert took place in London, at the Crystal Palace, on the 25th ultimo. It was a very grand affair. The following is an extract from a letter describing it, written by a lady in London, to a musical friend in Richmond :

LONDON, June 28.-You ask after brother James. The last time I saw him he looked well, at least he seemed so, for he was at a great distance, although under the same roof; I do not think he saw me, though he appeared to be looking for me. It was at the Crystal Palace, in the great orchestra of the Handel Centenary Festival; he was in the band, and I in the chorus, perched--I will not venture to say how many feet from the floor. Oh, how I wish you had been here to have enjoyed it with us. I will not attempt to give you an adequate idea of the grandeur of this great event (musically speaking) of our country, but will, in a few days, send you some of our musical journals, that you may revel in the description, though so far away.

I assure you that it has gone beyond all that ever been done before, and the best musicians agree it was what they could not conceive of. You can have no idea of the power of such a sound, or its first effect on hearing it. Do not laugh when I tell you that, for the first two choruses, viz.: "God Save the King," and the " Hallelujah," I fairly cried, or must have fainted only fancy what four thousand (or nearly that number) of picked musicians could achieve ! all animated with & desire to do their utmost to make it go well. Oh! it was a glorious feast! The crispness with which the words came out, the oneness of the staccato passages, the subdued pianos, (like one 'tremendous whisper,) the steadiness of the mighty host, can only be described as marvelous. Fancy an organ occupying more space than most ordinary houses ! its width being forty feet, and its depth thirty ! and yet, from the magnitude of all around, it by no means appeared of such gigantic proportions. It contains eighty-four stops, and has twenty-eight pairs of bellows ! but you are not to suppose that its power (though thought of the expression, "the sound of mighty rushing waters,") was too much for us !

We ladies were on each side and in front of the organ, all in white and on each side were the tenors and the basses, the choruses reaching from the floor to the very roof. We must have been an imposing spectacle to the prodigious multitude assembled to listen ; and it is no less certain that they were to us a very splendid sight.

You remember that the audience always rise when the "Hallelujah" is sung, and I assure you, at that moment I involuntarily thought of the resurrection, but words fail to express the sublimity of the occasion.

The festival began on the 20th, with "The Messiah." The Duchess of Cambridge and the two daughters were in the royal box, but the Queen disappointed us. On Wednesday, the 22d, we did a selection from " Belshazzar," "Saul," "Samson," "Judas Maccabeus," with "The Dessingen Te Deum" On the 24th, the festival closed with that sublime and glorious work, "Israel in Egypt." You should have seen Costa's face of delight; you know of old how hard he is to please. I am told he said afterwards that if his nerves had not been tougher than copper wire, he could not have stood upright, and that he trembled so at first that he could scarcely beat steadily.

Prince Albert and the Princess Alice and Helena were present at the last performance; but no little Vic. It seems she had heard of the death of some old Grand Duchess or other, in Prussia, and the naughty little Queen stopped away in consequence, but we were very loval all the same, and roared out "Long Live the Queen," lustily, can assure you. She has missed her chance, as well as yourself, dear brother; for you will hardly either of you see the next Centenary; but come home and I will endeavour to bewilder you with my binid recollections of this splendid achievement, for it is too much for me with ink and paper.

The Queen sent some curious relics to be exhibited on the oecasion, among others the harpsichord Verdi used nearly all his life, and to which he composed his timehonoured work, the "Anvil of the Blacksmith," which produced the fine melody that has immortalized the worker in iron ; several of the original scores in his hand-writing, (rather hard to decipher, but plainer than those of Beethoven,) and some very curious caricatures of his quarrels with Buononcini, his great Italian rival, but whose works are now not esteemed.

Spare moments are the gold dust of time. the portions of our life, spare moments are the most fruitful in good or evil. They are the gaps through which temptations find the easiest access to the soul.

LIFE may be merry as well as useful. Every person that owns a mouth has always a good opening for a laugh.

[TOP OF COLUMN 2]

SCENERY OF JAPAN.-The scenery in Japan is grand and lovely ; at least that portion which I visited-the Southern-and it is said to be so throughout the whole Empire. It is, in fact, a grand garden, with here and there an indenture of some arm of the sea, dividing the terraced mountains and blooming valley into shining highways. There is not probably in the whole world another expanse of territory, the abiding place of any one nation or people, which possesses so much fine, grand, picturesque scenery as the Empire of Japan. Never did I see, in all my extended travels over the fair regions of the East, any series of views that would approximate in beauty to those of Southern Japan. The many-hued brightness of the terraced hills and mountains, spreading valleys and flashing waters, revealed pictures fairer by far than Claude ever painted on canvass. There is, I believe, no fairer scenery in the world than the Bay of Yeddo, few more picturesque than the environs of Simoda. One thing adds to the pleasure of the student of nature in gazing upon a landscape in Japan -- the spirit of peace seems to rest like a sacred thing upon its fair bosom. At the season of the year I was there -- August and September -- there was an almost unclouded sky all the time; a light blue haze rested ou sea and land, hill and dale, reminding me of Indian summer in my own land, lending its aid to beautify an already beautiful landscape, and every sound from a distance would come to the ear mellowed and soft, musieal and harmonizing with the wondrous beauties Niphon. Japan might consistently be called a land of stillness, for the harsh sounds incidental to the life of higher civilization are not heard. Life there seems to move on quietly and calmly even conversation is carried on a subsided tone ; the effort of a shout is not called for.

Doubtless, a further insight into the manners and customs of this strange people will reveal latent faults, of whose existence we are now ignorant. Their existence will be made manifest by contaet with foreigners. We now have, in this nineteenth century, the privilege of witnessing an experiment on grand scale. We shall see whether a people already high on the scale of humanity, are to be elevated higher by the process so peculiar known only to this utilitarian nineteenth century. Will they be hoisted to the seventh heaven of political corruption, or will they be cast back into the hell of their seclusion ? Will the vices of civilization bless them, even as their virtues have made them a peculiar and happy people? We shall see.

COSMO DE MEDICIS. Among the great men whom the era of the sixteenth century produced, none possessed more astonishing qualities than Cosmo de Medicis, son of the celebrated Giovanni de Medices, captain of the Black Band. At the early age of twenty he recovered, through his extrordinary perseverance and address alone, the Ducal seat of Florence, which had been founded by his ancestor, Cosmo, the father of his people, and Lorenzo, the parent of letters. In 1547 he became Duke of Florence ; in 1555, Duke of Sienna, and in 1569, Duke of Tuscany; and it was to his personal valour and energy alone, combined with a strong national love of country, that he owed his rapid progress in power. Constantly refusing an alliance with France, although the same was repeatedly offered by his relative, Catherine de Medicis, he united with the Emperor against the French nation. Great vices were, however, mingled with Cosmo's noble qualities, and history pronounces a severe judgment on his character, when she styles him crafty, cruel, and avaricious. In truth, this man, who freed himself from his personal enemies by means of the sword and poison -- who erected a gallows in each quarter of his splendid capital -- and who did not hesitate to lay heavy monopolies on the citizens for the purpose of contributing to his personal pleasures was yet indefatigable in erecting splendid buildings for public utility; became the patron of savans, painters, and poets ; founded the University of Pisa ; and was constantly watchful over the national honour and liberty of Italy.

ANTIQUITY OF SPIRIT RAPPINGS. -Dr. D. J. Magown says that spirit rapping and spirit mediums and circles for keeping up intercourse with Spirits, were common in Ningpo as early as 1344 Abbe Huc, a famous Catholic missionary to China, an author, in his last book, speaking of Ruburk, a Franciscan priest, born in Brabant ubout 1220, who went on a mission to Tartary, says: "It is rather curious, too, that table rapping and table turning were in use in the thirteenth century among the Mongols, in the wilds of Tartary. Ruburk himself witnessed an instance of the kind. On the eve of the ascension, the mother of Margon, feeling very ill, the first soothsayer was summoned for consultation, when he performed some magic by rapping on the table. [Agitator.

[TOP OF COLUMN 3]

AN OLD BIBLE:--Mr. John Symons exhibits to us a treasured volume, which is worthy of mention with others that have been lately reported in the Courier. It is a Bible, with Psalter, Music, Maps, Tables of Chronology and proper names, &c., &c. The cover contains the inscription : "John Broomhall, his book, 1799, the gift of Mr. William Whitehead."

The first title-page is wanting, as also a portion of an epistle to the "Most Gracious Queen," (Elizabeth.) We next find "a table containing the Cycle of the Sunne, Dominical Letter, Leape Yere, Easter, Rogation Sunday, &c., for 28 yeeres," including 1603.

The title-page of the New Testament reads as follows

"The newe testament of our lord Jesus Christ, conferred diligently with the Greeke and best approved translations in divers languages. Imprinted at London, by Christopher Barker, printer to the Queen's Most excellent majestie, 1582, cum privilegio."

To the New Testament is appended a Table of Proper Names with signification, a Table of Chronology, and an index of "the principal things" contained in the Bible, followed by "A perfit supputation of the yeres and times from Adam unto Christ, prooved by the scriptures and the collection of divers authors," and, as a final motto, the 8th verse of 1st Joshua.

The Psalter which follows, bears the following title: " The whole booke of Psalmes, collected into English meter, by Thomas Sternh, John Hopkins and others, conferred with the Hebrue, with apt notes to sing them withall. Imprinted at London by John Day, eum gratia and privilegio Regia Maiestatis Anan 1578"

This Psalter is now incomplete, closing with the 137th Psalm. - - Charleston Courier.

A CHERUB'S SMILE WILL TAME A SAVAGE.-- The houses of the Cabyle were all but deserted and empty ; the women and children were sent for protection to neighbouring tribes farther removed from the seat of war. In one, a Zouave, mad for plunder, was struck by observing a huge jar of rudely baked earthenware standing in a corner. To rush forward and dash it into pieces with his musket-but was the affair of a second, when, to his, surprise, out rolled a poor little Cabyle child who, forgotten amidst the general confusion and fight, had crept into the jar for shelter. The Zouave raised his musket, but the little cherub smiled on it as sailant as though perfectly at home. The rude Zouave's heart was touched. Perhaps he thought of some far-off home in France, where a brother or sister might be playing in the sunshine like the poor Cabyle child, who smiled unconscious of the threatening musket. Perhaps it was merely his better nature touched by that smile. know not how this was, but I do know that the Zouave, laying down his musket on the ground, secured the child on his back with his turban, and then rushed forward on his way. The poor baby was thus borne through the thickest of the fray, but it seemed to have a charmed life. The balls whistled harmlessly by it ; and though that night the brave Zouave was found lying on his face, with a ball through his brain, the child was asleep and unharmed. It was subsequently adopted by the officers of the regiment, and is yet alive. [ Sketches of Algeria.

"WE LIVE IN DEEDS, AND NOT IN YEARS." -- A pleasant, cheerful, lively, generous, charitable minded woman is never old. Her heart is as young at sixty or seventy as it was at eighteen or twenty ; and they who are old at sixty or seventy, are not made old by time. They are made old by the ravages of passion and feelings of an unsocial, and ungenerous nature, which have cankered their minds, wrinkled their spirits, and withered their souls. They are made old by envy, by jealousy, by hatred, by suspicions, by uncharitable feelings by slandering, scandalizing, ill-bred habits which, if they avoid, they preserve their youth to the very last, so that the child shall die, as the Scriptures say, a hundred years old. There are many old women who pride themselves on being eighteen or twenty. Pride is an old passion, and vanity is grey as the mountains. There are old women who have much of either. They are dry, heartless, dull, cold, indifferent. They want the woll spring of youthful affection, which is always cheerful, always active, always engaged in some labour of love which is calculated to promote and distribute enjoyment. There is an old age of the heart, which is possessed by many who have no suspicion that there is any thing old about them ; and there is a youth which never grows old, a Love who is ever a boy, a Psyche who is ever girl.

SHERIDAN beautifully said: "Women govern us, let us render them perfect the more they are enlightened, so much, the more shall we be. On the cultivation of the mind of women depends the wisdom of men. It is by women that nature writes on the hearts of men."

230 THE COURANT ; A SOUTHERN LITERARY JOURNAL

[COLUMN 1]

"Oh, not for him, the loved and true, for whom she waited long, Not for the joyou festival, the happy bridal throng, But for a sterner, sadder scene, those stainless flowers bloom That blossomed for her bridal wreath to fade upon her tomb.

"Though not in cloisters dim and cold, 'Mid gloomy cells and arches old, My wasted hands I meekly fold ;—

"Though not where midnight tapers shine I kneel before some sainted shrine With him and orison divine,—

"Nor vow myself to 'love and sigh' With those who shan each earthly tie, Alone to live, alone to die;—

"Yet like to these my task is done— My sands of life in silence run ; I am, in very sooth, a nun.

"Like these I musing dwell apart, Like these I bear a sealed heart, Where worldly image hath no part.

"No curious eyes, no voices rude, No empty vanities intrude Upon my cloistered solitude.

"But gentle thoughts, unsummoned, dwell Like angels, in my lonely cell, And soothe me with their holy spell.

"And sad regretful thought arise, And, clad in penitential guise, Look on me with their tearful eyes.

"And soothed amid that calm retreat Pour out their precious ointment sweet, And bathe with tears those angels' feet."

"At times thou comest unto me In the semblance of a fairy, Borne on pinions light and airy— Pinions as the breezes free ; And I follow as I may, As with light Psychéan grace Through illimitable space Thou tak'st thy pathless way. Thou leadest me to lonely woods And to the sea-grit strand, Where all throughout the lonely night, The plunging waters, hoarse and white, Beat on the ribbed sand,— And the ships go sailing by, Sailing on the shadowy sea Like the pale stars in the sky, Silently—silently : Or to fairy-haunted rills Welling forth for ever more From the lonely hearts of silent hills, 'Mid fluted shell and sparry ore ;— Or where, in some deserted isle Standeth an old Cathedral pile, 'Neath whose matted ivy screen Peer from corners dusk and dim Carved forms and faces grim, With feathery fern and lichens hoar and richest misses mantled o'er— Richest moss of rarest green : And then it is a joy to me 'Mid these ruins lone and hoary Thus to stray with thee— Listening to some ghostly story Of the wondrous olden time, Or some wild and monkish legend Weaving into rhyme."

"And seeming as they wander by A strange unbidden memory Of something heard, or something seen, Of something felt—I know not where— A love that shall be, or hath been, In a more heavenly atmostphere."

THE SCHILLER CENTENARY.—The committee of the Schiller jubilee, which takes place the present week, has issued the following programme :

"The celebration will commence with a representation of Schiller's 'Karlsshueler,' at the Stadt Theatre, on the evening of the eighth. The next day (Wednesday), at noon, there will be a celebration at the Cooper Institute, with addresses by Messrs. Dr. Schramm, William Cullen Bryant, Dr. Wiesner, and Judge Daly ; after which there will be a presentaation of a Schiller medal. In the evening, a grand concert will be given at the Assembly Rooms, by the Musical Society, Liederkranz, Saengerbund, and an orchestra of seventy musicians. The conductors are Messrs. Eisfeld, Anchuetz, Bergmann, and Paur. Part second of the concert will consist of Beethoven's Ninth Symphony. On the evening of the teenth, there will be a series of plastic performances, representing scenes from Schiller's principal dramas ; also, a representation of 'Wallenstein's Camp,' by Stadt Theatre dramtic corps, at the Academy of Music. On the eleventh, a number of balls and banquets will take place at various places in commemoration of the great German poet, Frederick von Schiller."

This festival in commemoration of the anniversary of Schiller's one hundredth birth-day, will, we doubt not, surpass, in variety of entertainment, anything of the kind ever attempted in this country. The German ladies of our city have been deeply engaged in the getting up on the tableaux, and are most enthusiastic in the matter.—Home Journal.

THE transfer of The Atlantic Monthly to Messrs. Ticknor & Fields is a measure very much approved by literary men, and is considered to be an auspicious event for its future success. In contradiction to some current reports, the purchase of the entire property for ten thousand dollars was a business measure of those gentlemen alone, perfectly free and unembarrassed with any conditions, and gives them the entire ownership of the Magazine. If it is not considered desirable to revive one of the original features of the plan—the enlisting foreign talent in its support—Mr. Fields' favourable position with English authors will give them great facility for carrying it out; but the general sentiment is for its continuing a purely American work, supported by writers in the United States.

[COLUMN 2]

For the Courant. SENTIMENTAL WRITING.

The "Sentimental Journey," of Sterne, the "Man of Feeling," by McKenzie, and the "Sorrows of Werter," of Goëthe, have, by the general consent of criticism, been assigned the highest place, or the rank of chefs d`oeuvre, in this difficult and not very popular species of composition. No writers, either of the English or any other language, have come at all into competition with these great prose-poets in those deep yet delicate probings of the human heart, which it requires so much previous study of, and so thorough an acquaintance with, its organization, its sympathies and most secret workings, to conduct with success ; and which enabled these master-minds to produce all the effects, without intruding upon the province of Tragedy,* without the appliances or aid of its scenery, its sparking buskins and its trailing stoles, its dagger or its bowl. The author of the "Sorrows of Werter," has succeeded in rendering the afflications of his heart-struck hero no less interesting and affecting than those of Orestes or Hamlet, and the woes of Clarissa Harlow and of Charlotte Temple have cause quite as many tears to flow as those of poor "Monimia," or of Sophanisba.

Among out America works, or attempts in this kind of composition, the "Broken Heart," of Mr. Washington Irving, the pathetic, and as we are told, " o'er true tale " of "Charlotte Temple," and a few others that might be mentioned, are highly creditable to their authors,yet they still leave us, as it is unncessary to state, but scantily supplied with these rare and most delicate growths of the otherwise well-stocked and exuberant garden of modern literature. A recent cultor, however, of this difficulty-reared sensitive-plant, or this mimosa of the Muses, has appeared in the person of the "Professor at the Breakfast Table," who, in introducing and attempting to naturalize in our ungenial soil this tender exotic, of which lovers' tears are the maturing dews and lovers' sighs the fanning gales, or the only breath they will bear—says, depreciatingly and justly, that "it comes up as a Southern seed dropped by accident in one of our gardens, and that finds itself trying to grow, and blow into flower among the homely roots and hardy shrubs that surround it." This "Curiousity of Literature" appears in the last or October number of the "Atlantic Monthly," and is entitled "Iris, her book," and purports to be written by the young boarding-school Miss whose fanciful name it bears, and who was introduced to the readers of the Magazine in its previous or September issue. In this truly tender and touching production, we have the "heart history" of a sensitive and air-drawn being, or of the aetherial creature who thus "in the colours of the rainbow live," or in the delicate delineations of her own fantastic and prismy pencil, which, though managed with some effect and grace, is not quite so skilfully guided as the hand of Melzel's better-constructed automaton was by the dwarf in the machinery whose MORPHY-an feats and skill—or defeats of all its antagonists—so much mystified and astonished the world some thirty or forty years ago. His double, however, of the "Breakfast Table" is not only unable to achieve even the personal concealment of a prompter behind the scenes of a theatre, but manages his female-dressed puppet, or "Yankee Girl," so blunderingly and awkwardly, that is constantly loses the game ; or does its "spirting" so badly as to render the invention a signal and entire failture, and to deprive its "weak master" of all claim to the credit that is derived from a successful deception—that is, one that deceives no body, but is acquiesced in by every body, on account of its cleverness and originiality, and approach to reality which it is always, at best, but a far-off and imperfect imitation. Yet so blinded is the author by literary vanity and conceit, that he hesitates not himself to say that "there never has been a book like this of Iris," (this is certainly more true than the writer supposes it to be,) "or one so full of the heart's silent language ; and of which the meaning is so clear (!) as to be absolutely transparent-- so that the heart may be seen beating through it." A book written in a silent language must be a curiosity, indeed, and would be more likely, we should think, to be found full of emptiness than one of solid contents ; and the extracts given from it, certainly approach as nearlyto the character and consistency of mere "moonshine," as any thing "on this side of nothing" can well be, or was ever brought to even the most successful of those "writers upon air"— the ancient Schoolmen or the modern Transcendentalists.

The Professor, in a word, whose facetise, learned humour, and recondite witticisms, have so oftern set-- not the convivial

* We should have included in this category, the "Clarissa Harlow," of Richardson. This great novel rivals in interest— in the tragic pathos of its closing scenes— the finest and most affecting of the dramas and Schiller or Shakespeare. The author of these remarks once called at the house of a female friend, who apologized for the non-appearance of her daughter— a young lady of eighteen— who, she stated, had just finished reading "Clarissa Harlow," and was "so foolish" that she had been weeping for two days, and "refused to be comforted." The whole narrative, indeed, lays hold of the attention, with the force, and produces all the effects of, reality, or that could possibly be caused by a true history.

[COLUMN 3]

but the "Breakfast Table" in a roar,—and with the fame of which all Pedlingdom "now rings from side to side"—has, with one of those changes of mood frequent with such geniuses, suddenly become "gentlemanly and melancholy," or has taken to the sentimental, both in prose and poetry : weeps over the sorrows of a Laura-Matilda of a boarding-school--pens a poem "to his mistress's eye-brow," and writes stanzas entitled "Under the Violets" -- that even Touchstone himself might have presented to his fair Audrey with the "pease cod" which he so gallantly requested her to "wear for his sake." We quote, as merely affording an evidence of the present penseroso mood of their author, or as giving "a touch of his quality" of the dainty ideas and tear-compelling lines contained in this pleasingly-melancholy, but, as we think, rather over-pleurant production:

"Lay her where the violets grow, But not beneath a graven stone, To plead with tears with [from] alien eyes; A slender cross of wood alone, 'Shall say that here a maiden lies— In peace beneath the peaceful skies.— [Atlas !] * * * * * * If any born of kindlier blood, Should ask what maiden lies below— [ that is, her name.] Say only this — a tender bud, That tried to blossom in the snow—[ A rather deperate Lies withered where the violets blow." [experiment.]

This "is sweet and contagious, i'faith," as Sir Andrew Aguecheek says ; but why a maiden, whose death is deemed worthy of being commemorated in verse, should be denied a tombstone; why only a "slender wooden cross" is permitted to mark her grave, and why, finally, her name is omitted from, and her sex alone is particularized in, this "frail memorial," is not explained, or in any way accounted for. Why the wooden cross should be a slender one, might, also, be naturally asked; but it is of course vain to inquire into such matters, or attempt to account for the whims and vagaries of a love-lorn and romantic boarding-school young lady; and in reading such fine and dreamy effusions as those contained in "the Drawing Book," we must ever bear in mind the philosophical and profound lines of Shakespeare—

" Oh melancholy ! Who ever yet could find thy bottom !" or, in other words, who can ever guess at, or form even the remotest idea of, the moods, fancies, and "twilight thoughts," of such aerial and supersensitive beings, as "Iris," or the "Cynthia of the Minuet," of whom the following soaring or (to use a somewhat slang phrase) hifaluten description is given in the prefatory poem with which the Book, "through which the heart of the heroine may be seen beating," so eloquently opens :

"Iris had no mother to enfold her, Nor ever leaned upon a sister's shoulder, Telling the twilight thoughts that Nature told her."

Of her complex characters, at once fierce and tender, patient and self-tormenting, we have the following rather strange and mystifying account :

"Sometimes a flashing falcon in her daring— Then a poor mateless dove, that droops disparing. Scornful as spirit fallen—its own tomentor ; And then, all tears and anguish."

Poor girl! Such pendulum-like vibrations of feelings, such dire alternations of mood—from daring, to despair; from scorn, to tears—must have been trly trying and terrible. But a little rational employment by day, and less indulgence in "twilight thoughts," "unbidden tears," and the "luxury of woe," by night, would not only have rendered her less unhappy, but would have secured to her more sympathy--where she became really distressed—than such mere sentimental sorrows and self-inflicted miseries, as those described in the above lines, would be likely to elicit even from the too-believing and pensive public, prone as it is to listen to and weep over those fictitous afflictions and imaginary sufferings which make no call upon the purse beyond the price which it is willing to pay for the entertainment it derives from the eloquent description given of them in the pages of such writers as the Professor, the Albums of the Irises, and the novelettes of the newspapers and periodicals of the day. In addition to the other arts employed by the author of enlisting the sympathies and enchaining the attention of the reader, startling interjections, sudden and awful breaks in lines —paragraphs left mysteriously unfinished, notes of admiration, etc., etc., are frequently introduced, and judiciously thrown in, in the course of the narrative, and particularly in the prefatory poem, from which the above extracts are taken. These have the effect of electrifying, or giving an occasional and seasonable shock to the reader, who, unless an unually bad sleeper, is very apt to feel the effects or the choloformed handkerchief, which the monotonous sadness and desperate character of the story obliges him to keep always in his eyes. Such abrepted passages, alarming exclamations, and unexpected interjections as the following, always affect the unprepared and consternated reader with a peculiarr and concentrated force—

THE COURANT A SOUTHERN LITERARY JOURNAL. 231

like lightning falling from a detached cloud on an otherwise fair clay: "And then-Ah, God ! " "If she had-well ! " * * * * "Fain let it be so!"

"This her poor book," says our "inky-cloaked" and sad "havioured " Professor,

"So full of saddest follies-[most true!] "Of tearful smiles, and laughing melancholies," "With summer roses twined, and wintry hollies."

Here it is not very clear whether it is "the book" or its contents its "tearful smiles and laughing melancholies "-that the author thus entwines, or intends to entwine, "with summer roses and wintry hollies." ATHENION.

(TO BE CONTINUED.)

Letters for the Courant. HORSE-BACK AMONG THE MOUNTAINS. No. III.-TALLULAH FALLS.

The Tallulah mountains, to which the river and Falls have given a name, form on the south side a wild and rugged escarpment; but on the north avast sheet of table-land. stretches away to the foot of the other and higher ranges. The river rises back in this level country, and, gathering other streams as it flows on, becomes from twenty to one hundred yards wide before it begins its headlong descent. The Falls are then formed by the passage of the river through an awful, winding abyss, walled in by stupendous, jagged cliffs, down the declivity. This passage, more terrible than that between Scylla and Charybdis, is between one and two miles in extent. The Falls themselves are a succession of four tumbling leaps, "from fifty to eighty feet perpendicular," interspersed with a multitude of minor or less sublime rapids. But no description can give an adequate idea of the turbulent and over-mastering sublimity of the astonishing whole.

Tallulah is, indeed, not a unit; neither the eye, nor the ear, nor the mind, can comprehend it all at once. There are many points of interest----The Pulpit, the Ocean View, Hawthorn's Pool, etc.-and two or three places on the western side, at which the visitor may descend with difficulty to the margin of the stream ; but a visit to neither, nor even to all, will leave a full and satisfying impression on the mind. The mind cannot fathom the interminable chaos of grandeur. The idea of the Infinite-of some thing beyond the pale of sense and thought----remains ever after looking into the dizzy depths, or out at the stormless and serene heights, or attempting to wander with the eye far into the labyrinths of Tallulah's vale.

The best and only way to study this glorious volume of Nature is by piece-meal. Nature, accordingly, as if answering the spirit and design of her own creations, has so arranged the angles of the peaks and mazes of the river, as to wall in each "view " by itself. The student----for he who lingers here as aught else is a marvelous character-is thus enabled to feel alone in a sublime solitude that wings his thoughts into the farthest reach of memory and imagination.

This is precisely the self-state which even these separate pictures of Tallulah, and, indeed, all the great master-pieces of nature or art require, in order that we may carry away a full and soul-refreshing image of them, to last through life. I well remember the bold, eager, silly confidence with which I was inspired before I saw them. I had just been at Toccoah, which fills the soul even full with delicious fancies, and I had thought Tallulah would be the same, only sublime instead of beautiful or lovely. My first feeling here was, consequently, one of utter surprise and astonishment. But I did not give up in despair of enjoying somewhat this scene of indescribable power and majesty. I descended to the head of the first cataract, and, divesting myself as much as possible of the awe and almost terror which had seized me, and rallying my routed thoughts as best I could, began, by slow and cautious advances, to besiege this fortress of the Beautiful.

Let no one deem this an irrelevant figure, or inapt mode of procedure; for the proper way to enjoy beauty, as to possess knowledge, is to proceed from the known to the unknown. The finest jets of spray that my eyes could find were the welcomest ; and my guide plucked a solitary wild tiger-lily, which I was glad to see. Just above the cataract is a low, but extremely pleasant rapid, that prattles gaily before the severe and frowning cliff opposite, like a playful child in the presence of its hoary grandfather. The waters, after weaving their fairy dance down this rapid, wash far in against the base of the peak - thus forming a broad, ruffled pool, that long ago, we may imagine, leapt up gently as now to kiss the naked foot of Indian maiden, as she listened trustingly ( poor thing!) to her chieftain-lover, boasting that he was swifter and bolder than the eagle on the top of that cliff, when he hunted the scalps of his foes and her's. They then gather themselves into one sweeping, resistless column, and plunge into the foaming gulf below.

Standing on the verge of this precipice, the eye commands the whole view of the wild and wondrous arch, as it leaps upon an out-crop of the rock about half-way down -- dashes itself

[COLUMN 2]

into a cloud of spray, and descends like a thick Shower of snow or swan-down girdled with rainbows. The beholder thus enjoys at once the extent of the Fall ( about eighty feet), the varying swiftness and power of the waters, their endless hues and single sound, and the terrible grandeur of the whole watery ruin. While at this point I had a most vivid impression of Milton's Paradise Lost, particularly that book descriptive of the Battle of the Angels. There were the mountains to be up-torn by the roots, and hurled by their shaggy tops upon the engines of the foe: here, the Falls, "majestic though in ruin," typifying the " timorous flock," as they threw themselves into " the wasteful deep." It was a moment among years.

We returned to our pavilion of blue skies and green boughs, lunched, and went to the Pulpit-a lofty peak, commanding the most extensive and entertaining prospect of the Falls of any place. To stand here and span the immense chasm with the eye, or to look into the awful gulf below and behold the roaring, bounding, mazy, impetuous river rushing on-here, leaping a mad cataract from fifty to one hundred feet down ; there, stealing away and going to sleep at the base of skyey cliffs ; and, farther on, to wild-brook melody dancing over its shoaly bed; to behold the granite walls of inimitable masonry, piled up in places with a regularity and perfection beyond the reach of art----these are privileges for which the soul must yearn to return proper thankfulness in vain. But the grandest thing here is the anthem of the waters. I sate for some time and listened to them alone, until I fancied I could almost hear the aetherial tones of the music repeated in my mind. There is a distinct echo, or under-tone, as ceaseless as the flow of the water, that thrills the soul with its wild, weird, unearthly cadence. The music seems to be apart fro11 the ear, and soul-heard. One thinks of Paul Dombey and

"Sister, what are the wild waves saying ?"

and rests upon the thought-

"Tis the voice of the great Creator"-

with a mingled gush of praise and thankfulness. But the first feeling, before we attempt to disentangle this wilderness of sound, is an indefinable thrill of ecstasy, not to be analyzed. It is a sublime hymn. There is one little poem by Mrs. HEMANS-" The Landing of the Pilgrim Fathers "--which, when set to music, and sung as it has been sung, breaks up "the great deep" of the soul in the same way. How strong and hopeful it makes one feel to listen to either song-the anthem of nature or the glorious hymn, trembling from the lips of lovely woman-as it swells and dies upon the ear in strains of

"Freedom to worship God."

We next visited Hawthorn's Pool-so called because a gentleman of that name was once drowned there while bathing in the stream. The name conveys no appropriate idea of the place. Instead of forming a pool, the river runs and leaps down a wide and deep opening, fenced in by two semi-circular cliffs that face each other and almost meet above and below. On the western side a very small pearly brook issues from the summit, and, after making a few bounds about the length and height of a stag's leap, seems to cling to the rock, and descend with the tremulous caution of a young squirrel on its first adventure from its birth-place in the " druid oaks." The rock. both up and down the stream, and up and down itself, is curvelinear. This is one of the most effective elements of the scene. The depth is seven or eight hundred feet, and the width of the chasm two or three thousand feet.

As the visitor approaches the little brook, he turns to the left and descends along its edge some twenty or thirty feet, until he reaches a natural rostrum of rock, covered with a green carpeting of moss. This rostrum is erected by nature seemingly on the very spot where the beholder would most relish the calm and elevating majesty of the scene. The evening is the time of all times to be here. And how beautifully has nature ordered it that morning is the best period to spend at the upper Falls ! The stirring action of upper 'l'allulah suits the spring and bound of morning sun-light ; the august repose of Hawthorn's Pool comports with the sedate and maidenly primness of evening. Were I to draw a comparison from poets, I would say the former is like Coleridge, in the chaotic universality of his genius; the latter, like Wordsworth, in the imperturbable oneness of his sleepless and quenchless might.

But I must leave my reader to imagine all about 'l'empesta, and Cascade Spring, and "a' that," while I wish him the happiness of seeing Tallulah, which is second, perlmps, only to Niagara, very soon for himself, and you, my CALDWELI,, all the et ceteras of Yours, &c.,

WILLIE EAST

A STATUE of Notre Dame de France, of extraordinary dimensions, is in course of erection on the Rocher de Corneille, near Le Puy (department of Haute-Loire). The statue itself will be about fifty-three feet high, and a stair-case in the inside will give access to the head, whence there will be an extensive panoramic view. The statue is of iron, cast in pieces from guns taken at Sebastopol.

THE most amusing thing in the world is a Frenchman in a passion.-" By gar, you call my wife a woman two three several times once more, an' I'll call you the vatch house, and blow out your brains like a candle."

COLUMN 3]

For the Courant. TWILIGHT'S VOW.

BY SUSAN M. BRADFORD.

O'er the green lieldl!. far and wide, Twilight had softly faded; Up the craggy mountain-side Twilight the rooks had shaded. All nature slept and dreamed with me-- I dreamed of young love--and of thee!

I leaned o'er the garden fence, Playing with the rose, there, Watching the stars, in silence Peeping through the heavens fair. And then a band was clasping mine, I trembled--for that hand was thine.

These words I whispered low, As you bent there beside me, "Thine, wherever thou may'st go­ Whatever fate betide thee ; Whatever lot may yet be mine, Know only, I am ever thine.

"Oh, stars may forget their light, And the sun may cease to shine, But the love I yield to-night, Is thine, for ever thine ! So clasp me closer to thy heart, Never, no never thence to part ! "

Black comes the shadowy night, And the stars no longer shine: Not a ray of hope or light Is in thy heart or in mine, Like night, our lives must over be-- For I have broken my faith to thee.

They have sold my hand away, For another's cursed gold, And I cannot weep or pray For my heart is chill and cold. Too lost to hope, too proud to pine; Heaven shield thee from a fate like mine!

A STATUE of Notre Dame de France, of extraordinary dimensions, is in course of erection on the Rocher de Corneille, near Le Puy (department of Haute-Loire). The statue itself will be about fifty-three feet high, and a stair-case in the inside will give access to the head, whence there will be an extensive panoramic view. The statue is of iron. cast in pieces from guns taken at Sebastopol. THE most amusing thing in the world is & Frenchman in passion.-' By gar, you call my vife a woman two three several times once more, an' I vill call you the vatch house, and blow out your brains like a candle."

A STATUE of Notre Dame de France, of extraordinary dimensions, is in course of erection on the Rocher de Corneille, near Le Puy (department of Haute-Loire). The statue itself will be about fifty-three feet high, and a stair-case in the inside will give access to the head, whence there will be an extensive panoramic view. The statue is of iron, cast in pieces from guns taken at Sebastopol.

THE most amusing thing in the world is a Frenchman in a passion. 'By gar, you call my vife a woman two three several times once more, an' I vill call you the vatch house, and blow out your braing like a candle.

TICKNOR & FIELDS publish a new volume by John G. Saxe, entitled " The Money King, and Other Poems. The author says: "About ten years ago, at the instance of my friend. James T. Fields, Esq., and with much misgiving, ventured on the publication of a volume of poems. For the favour it has found with the public, as evinced in a demand for sixteen editions of the book: and with the critics, as shewn in many kind and scholarly reviews, I take this occasion to express my grateful acknowledgments. Of the little which I have written since the first publication of that volume, the greater part will be found in this. In the arrangement of my materials, I have put 'The Money-King' in front, simply on account of its length; as in military usage, the tallest soldier is commonly placed at the head of the file. For the two episodes which interrupt the thread of this otherwise consecutive performance, I must plead the authority of greater names, ancient and modern. The poem entitled The Way of the World," is little more than a paraphrase of a passage in a prose story lately published in Fraser's Magazine; and the plot of the Chinese Tale is mainly borrowed from an extremely clever English book, entitled ' The Porcelain Tower.' The rest of the pieces, for aught can say, are as original as the verses of other men who have the misfortune to write at this rather late period in the history of letters; but if (as may possibly happen) any expressions which I have supposed to be my own, should be found in the works of earlier writers, I can only answer, with the hearty indignation of old Donatus: Pereant isti qui ante nostra dixerunt!

BULWER.-We find the following in the London Leader Some days ago, a daily journal announced, upon the somewhat singular authority of the New York Tribune, the entire restoration of Sir E. B. Lytton's health. We regret to learn, from another source, that this statement is incorrect, and that Sir Edward still continues to suffer severely from illness. We quite agree with our contemporary the Critic, who says: 'For some time past people have been inquiring what has become of Sir Edward Lytton Bulwer. & That his health had suffered from his many labours, literary and political, and that a temporary cessation from all kind of work became necessary about the time of Lord Derby's famous appeal to the country, was well known. Afterwards it was reported that he was better, and would shortly be able to resume the normal activity of his life. Since that time, however, his name, as it were, disappeared from public records, and a kind of 'Oh. no, we never mention him' feeling seems to be entertained on the subject. This is far from satisfactory, and although we have no disposition to intrude upon a private sorrow, we cannot but regard Sir Edward Lytton Bulwer as public property; and, as such, the public ought to know some thing about him.'"

THE numerous friends of Mr. Frederick Saunders, author of "Salad for the Solitary," " Mosaics." etc., will be glad to hear that he has been appointed an attaché of the Astor Library. The progressive development of this institution is merely a question of time. The new building affords ample accommodation for spacious reading-rooms, and before many years some five hundred readers a day, surrounded with all possible facilities for study, free access to books of reference, etc., will be found availing themselves of the opportunities so liberally offered. The Astor Library now contains as many books as did that of the British Museum till within thirty years, and the collection being made with the specific purpose of representing every branch of human knowledge, is much more valuable for purposes of study.--Tribune.

GEORGE L. BROWN, the artist, has just returned from Rome.

PAGE 232 THE COURANT; A SOUTHERN LITERARY JOURNAL.

[COLUMN 1]

THE following beautiful poem, says the Memphis Bulletin, commends itself to every heart. BENNETT is one of England's choicest poets, and is taking a high rank in his country's literature:

THE WORN WEDDING-RING.

BY W. C. BENNETT.

Your wedding ring wears thin, dear wife ; ah, summers not a few, Since I put it on your finger first, have passed o'er me and you; And, love, what changes we have seen-what cares and pleasures too—

Since you became my own dear wife, when this old ring was new.

O blessings on that happy day, the happiest of my life, When, thanks to God, your low sweet "Yes" made you my loving wife ;

Your heart will say the same, I know—the day's as dear to you, The day that made me yours, dear wife, when this old ring was new!

How well do I remember now, your young sweet face that day ; How fair you were—how dear you were-my tongue could hardly say;

Nor how I doated on you—ah, how proud I was of you; But did I love you more than now, when this old ring was new?

No, no—no fairer were you then than at this hour to me, And dear as life to me this day, how could you dearer be? As sweet your face might be this day, as now it is, 'tis true, But did I know your heart as well, when this old ring was new?

O partner of my gladness, wife, what care, what grief is there, For me you would not bravely face—with me you would not share? O what a weary want had I each day, if wanting you, Wanting the love that God wade mine, when this old ring was new.

Years bring fresh links to bind us, wife—small voices that are here, Small faces round our fire, that make their mother's yet more dear, Small, loving hearts, your care each day makes yet more like to you, More like the loving heart made mine, when this old ring was new.

And, blessed be God, all he has given are with us yet around Our table, every little life lent to us, still is found. Though cares we've known, with hopeful hearts the worst we've struggled through ; Blessed be His name for all His love, since this old ring was new.

The past is dear—its sweetness still our memories treasure yet; Tho griefs we've borne, together borne, we would not now forget; Whatever, wife, tho future brings, heart unto heart still true, We'll share as we have shared all else, since this old ring was new.

And if God spare us 'mongst our sons and daughters to grow old, We know His goodness will not let your heart or mine grow cold; Your aged eyes will see in mine all they've still shown to you, And mine in yours all they have seen, since this old ring was new.

And O, when death shall come at last to bid me to my rest, May I die looking in those eyes, and resting on that breast; O may my parting gaze be blessed with the dear sight of you, Of those fond eyes-fond as they wore when this old ring was new !

THE COURANT IS PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY, AT Columbia, S.C., BY W. W. WALKER, JR., & Co., AT TWO DOLLARS PER ANNUM, INVARIABLY IN ADVAlfCE.

Rates of Advertising: One square of eight lines, or less, solid Minion, one insertion $1 00. " " " " " " each subsequent " 50. All advertisements from parties at a distance must be paid in advance.

Judge O`Neall`s New Book Now Ready. THE BENCH AND BAR OF SOUTH CAROLINA. Containing Biographical Sketches of CHIEF JUSTICES, ATTORNEY GENERALS, LAW JUDGES, U. S. DISTRICT ATTORJ!EYS, CHANCELLORS, SOLICITORS, RECORDERS, MEMBERS OF THE BAR,

TO which is added, The Original "Fee Bill of 1791," with Signatures in fac similie attached, complete rolls of State and Federal Judges and Attorneys, and the "Rolls of Attorneys" Admitted to Practice from 1772 to 1859, from the records at Columbia and Charleston. 2 vols. 8vo., clo., 500 pp., $5.00

S. G. COURTENAY & CO., PUBLISHERS, For sale by No. 9 Broad Street, Charleston, S. C. P. B. GLASS, and S. TOWNSEND, Columbia, S. C. November 17 29—3

NEW Carriage Emporium. GREENFIELD & GALE ARE receiving a large and fine stock of CARRIAGES at their Repository

OPPOSITE THE CHARLESTON DEPOT, adjoining the store of Anderson & Wells. Their stock will embrace every variety of vehicle, from the lightest buggy to the heaviest coach. Those Carriages will be the workmanship of some of the

BEST BUILDERS IN THE UNION, and will positively be sold as low as they can be bought in Charleston. 28—tf November 10

S. G. COURTEYAY & CO., No. 9 BROAD STREET,

BOOKSELLERS and Stationers, Cheap Publications, Magazines and Newspapers. Charleston, S. C. [May 5, 1859 1—tf

[COLUMN 2]

Prospectus of the Hygienic and Literary Magazine THE undersigned take pleasure in announcing to the former patrons of the Medical and Literary Weekly, and the public generally, that they have made arrangements whereby the above mentioned paper will be converted into a monthly, bearing the title of THE HYGIENIC AND LITERACY MAGAZINE, to be issues the first of each month in the City of Atlanta.

The Magazine will be about the size of" Godey's Lady's Book," and will embrace three prominent Departments, vix,: HYGIENIC, LITERACY and EDUCATIONAL. The "Hygienic Department," or that pertaining to the Laws of Health, will, as heretofore, be under the immediate supervision of Dr. V. H TALIAFERRO, and will form a prominent as well as important feature in the reading matter of the Magazine; and, as in the "Weekly," will wage war with Quackery and Empyrieism in all its forms, and keep prominently before the public, those great Hygienic principles as deduced from Science, which govern and influence the health of indiviuals and communities.

The Literacy Department will be managed by C. T. C. DRAKE and Rev. M. A MALSBY, and will embrace the productions of the best and most talented writers of the South.

The first number will contain the Prize Poem, by Dr. A. Means, for which he receives the Silver Cup awarded by the Editors of the "Weekly :" also, the Prize Romance, by that chaste and accomplished writer, Jessie Randolph, for which she receives the Prize of $200, will commence with the first and run through several successsive numbers.

The Educational Department will contain the opinions and views of the leading educators of the day, and will be devoted to the elevation and improvement of the masses. The first number will be out by the first of December, at which time the Volume commences.

TERMS- Per annum (invariably in advance,) $2.

[finger pointing right] All Letters and Communications to be directed to "Editors of Hygienic and Literacy Magazine," Atlanta, Georgia.

V. H. TALIAFERO, M. D., C. T. C. DEAKE, EDITORS Rev. M. A. MALSBY,

Atlanta, November 1st, 1859. 29

CAROLINA HIGH SCHOOL, Columbia, S. C. PRINCIPALS A. B. BRUMBY, A. M.—Latin and Mathematics. J. WOOD DAVIDSON, A. M.—Greek and English.

ASSISTANT, T. BEZANCON—Graduate University France—French.

Terms $30 per session. May 5, 1859. 1—tf

FAMILY GROCERIES J. N. & T. D. FEASTER

HAVE on hand, and arc still reciving, a choice article of Sugar Cured Hams, Bacon Strips, Sides and Shoulders, Lard, Goshen and Country Bntter, Smoked and Pickled Beef, Pork and Tongues, Mackerel, Salmon, Shad and White Fish, Extra Family Flour, Rice, Pota.toes, Beans, &c., Pickles, Preserves, Spice, Pepper, Ginger and many other articles appertaining to the GROOERY business, which they offer at Low Prices for CASH.

A carefully selected assortment of the best Wines, Brandies, Ale, &c., kept constantly on band, all of which we Warrant Pure. Give us a trial, and we will endeavor to give satisfaction. Our terms are strictly CASH.

June 30, 1859. 9—tf

F. W. HOADLEY. ATTORNEY AT LAW AND SOLICITOR IN CHANCERY, (Formerly of Columbia, S. C.,) LITTLE ROCK, ARKANSAS.

PARTICULAR attention given to the collection of claims in any part of the State, buying and selling of lands, locating swamps and overflowed lands, entering. land at the General Land Offices, and paying taxes on lands in any county in Arkansas.

June 16, 1859 7-ly

LAGER BEER, (AT THE SIGN OF THE GOLDEN BUCK.)

WE now inform the citizens of Columbia and the surrounding country, that we are able to supply them with the healthiest LAGER BEER in the world. It is brewed out of malt and hops and mineral spring water. For sale by the barrel, dozen and gallon. Every two hours a small barrel put fresh on draught.

JOHN SEEGERS & CO., No 101 Richardson Street. Ang. 11-59. 15-tf.

ALLEN & DIAL, IMPORTERS and Dealers in English and American Hardware and cutlery, Iron, Steel, Nails, Castings, Mill-Stones, Bolting Cloths, Mill-Irons, Sugar Pans, India Rubber and Leather Belting Carpenters', Placksmiths' and Tanners' Tools, Housekeeping and Furnishing Hardware, Agricultural Implements, Lime, Cement; Plaster, Paints, Oils, French and American Window Glass, Guns' Rifles, Pistols, Shot-Belts, Powder--Flasks, Powder, Shot, &c.; wholesale or retail; at the sign of the Golden Pad-Lock, Columbi'a, S. C.

J. M. ALLEN. J. C. DIAL. May 19, 1859 3—tf

PAPER COMMISSION WAREHOUSE, AND PRINTERS' DEPOT, FOR the sale of Writing, Printing, Envelope, and Colored Papers Cards, and Printing Materials of all kinds. Agent for L. JOHNSON & Co., Type Founders, R. HOE & Co., and other Printing Press makers. Printing Inks, of best quality, at Manufacturers' Prices.

TO MERCHANTS. The subscriber begs to call attention to his Large Stock of Writing and Wrapping Paper of all kinds, which he will sell very low for cash, or short credit on large sums.

JOSEPH WALKER, J 20 Meeting Street, May, 5, 1859 1—tf Charleston, S. C.

WEARN & HIX, NO. 170 MAIN STREET, COLUMBIA, S. C., ARE prepared to execute Portraits, from Miniature to Life Size in all departments of the Photographic Art. The public are invited to call and inspect specimens of the new and beautiful IVORYTYPE.

May 5, 1859. 1—tf

DR. M. GROSS & CO.`S

UNRIVALLED Vegetable Compound, the HYGIENE BITTERS. For sale, wholesale and retail, by

JOHN SEEGERS & CO., Agents, Oct. 6, 1859. 23—tf. Columbia, S. C.

F. PATTERSON & CO., WHOLESALE and Retail Dealers in Books, Stationery, Fancy Goods, Daily and Weekly Newspapers, Magazines, &c. Corner of King and Society Streets, Charleston, S. C.

N. B.—Miscellaneons and Mail Orders for Goods, whether in our line or not, promptly attended to. [May 5, 1859. 1—tf

[COLUMN 3]

COLUMBIA ATHENEUM, NO. 194 1/2 RICHARDSON STREET, LIBRARY contains about 2,800 volumes. Reading Room has on file leading English and American magazines, and newspapers from the principal cities of the Union.

Proprietorship—One Hundred Dollars. Annual Subscription—Five Dollars per annum, payable in advance.

[finger pointing right] The Library and Reading Room are open, daily, from 9, A. M., to 1, P. M., from 3 to 5, and from 7 to 10, P. M.

Hon. W. C. PRESTON, Pres't. W. W. WALKER, Jr., Secretary. May 19, 1859 3—f

WOOD, EDDY & CO`S SINGLE NUMBER LOTTERIES! GRAND CAPITAL P[RIZE $100,000 NEARLY ONE PRIZE TO EVERY NINE TICKETS.

THE EXTRAORDINARY DRAWINGS OF Wood, Eddy & Co.'s Single Number Lotteries will take place in public, under the superintendence of sworn Commissioners, at Augusta, Georgia, as follows :-Class No. 47 draws Saturday, November 19, 1859; Class No. 51 dra.ws Saturday, December 17, 1859; Class No. 56 draws Saturday, January 21, 1860; Class No. 60 draws Saturday, February 18, 1860.

EXTRAORDINARY DRAWING, To take place as above specified. One Grand Capital Prize of $100,000 ! ! !

THE ORDINARY DRAWINGS

Of Wood, Eddy & Co.'s Lotteries, will take place at Augusta, Georgia as follows :—

Class 48 Draws on Saturday, November 26, 1859. Class 49 Draws on Saturday, December 3, 1859. Class 50 Draws on Saturday, December 10, 1859. Class 52 Draws on Saturday, December 24, 1859. Class 53 Draws on Saturday, December 31, 1851. Class 51 Draws on Saturday, January 7, 1860. Class 55 Draws on Saturday, January 14, 1860. Class 57 Draws on Saturday, January 28, 1860.

ORDINARY DRAWING To take place a.s above specified. One Grand Capital Prize of $50,000 ! ! !

WOOD, EDDY & CO.`S GRAND EXTRAORDINARY DRAWINGS On the Three Number Plan,

[finger pointing right]CAPITAL PRIZE $100,000 ! ! ! [finger pointing left] Takes place on the last Saturday in each l\Ionth. Whole Tickets $20,Halves $10,Quarters $5, Eighths $2.50.

In Ordering Tickets or Certificates, Enclose the amount of money to our address for what you wish to purchase; name the Lottery in which you wish it invested and whether you wish Wboles, Halves, Quarters, or Eighths, on receipt of which we send what 1s ordered, by first mail, together with the scheme.

Immediately after drawing a Printed Drawing, Certified to by the Commissioners, will be sent with an Explanation.

[finger pointing right]Purchasers will please write their signatures plain, and give the name of their Post Office, County and State. All communications strictly confidential.

[finger pointing right]All prizes of $1,000 and under, paid immediately after the drawing; other prizes at the usual time of Forty Days. Orders for Tickets or Certificates, to be directed to WOOD, EDDY & CO., Augusta., Georgia, or WOOD, EDDY & CO., Atlanta, Georgia, or WOOD, EDDY & CO., Wilmington, Delaware.

A list of the numbers that are drawn from the wheel, with the amount of the prize that each one is entitled to, will be published after every drawing, in the following papers:-Augusta (Ga.) Constitutionalist, Mobile Register, Nashvillc Gazette, Richmond Dispatch, and Paulding (Mis .) Clarion. May 26, 1859 4—ly

SHINGLER BROTHERS, DEALERS in Exchange, Uncurrent Money, Land Warrants, &c. No. 7 Broad Street, Charleston, S. C. [May 5, 1859. 1—tf

THE COURANT ; A SOUTHERN LITERARY JOURNAL 206 [COLUMN 1] --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- For the Courant. THE LESSER LIGHTS. ------------------------------- How bightly, 'mid the fleecy clouds, That float like foam-bells o'er the night, Shine here and there some lone bright stars, As rare as moments of delight; But dazzled eyes oft turn from these To gaze upon some lesser light.

And when in gorgeous lands we roam, Where balmy glories load the bowers, And rich, rare wonders charm the eye, And love-bells mark the 'wildering hours, We soon grow tired, and turn from these, With love, unto the lesser flowers.

And so it is in human life; Some souls are stars in life's dark nights, Dazzling and clear, and though we gaze And wonder how they gained such heights of human greatness, yet we love Better than those-- the lesser lights. Wisconsin. HATTIE TYNG.

-------------------------------------------------------------- FRANCIS LIEBER'S INTRODUCTORY LECTURE TO HIS COURSE ON POLITICS DELIVERED IN THE COLUMBIA LAW SCHOOL, N.Y., OCT. 10, 1859

We are met together to discuss the State -- the society which, in infinite variety, from mere social specks of political inception to empires of large extent and long radition, covers the whole earth wherever human beings have their habitation-- that society which, more than any other, is identified, as cause and as effect, with the rise and fall of civilization-- that society which, at this very period of mingled progress and relapse, of bravery and frivolity, intensely occupies the mind of our whole advancing race, and which is the worthiest subject of contemplation for men who do not merely adhere to instinctive liberty, but desire to be active and upright partakers of conscious civil freedom.

In the course of lectures which has been confided to me, we shall inquire into the origin and necessity of the State, and of its authority-- is it a natural or an invented institution? -- into the ends and uses of Government, and into the functions of the State-- is it a blessing, or is it a wise contrivance, indeed, yet owing to man's sinful state as many fathers of the Church considered all property to be, or is it a necessary evil, destined to cease when a man shall be perfected? we shall inquire into the grandeur as well as into the shame of Political Man. We shall discuss the history of this, the greatest human institution, and ultimately take a survey of the literature appertaining to this enduring topic of civilized man.

This day I beg to make some preliminary remarks, chiefly intended to place myself before you in the position which, so far as I can discern, a public teacher of politics in this country and at this period, either occupies of necessity, or ought to occupy. Antiquity differs from modern civilization by no characteristic more signally than by these two facts, that throughtout the former there was but one leading state or country at any given period, while now several nations strive in the career of progress, abreast like the coursers of the Grecian chariot. The idea of one leadng nation, or of a "universal monarchy," has been revived, indeed, at serveral modern periods, and is even now proclaimed by those who know least of liberty, but it is an anachronism, barren in every thing except mischief, and always gotten up, in recent times, to subserve ambition or national conceit. It has ever proven ruinous, and Austria, France and Spain have furnished us with commentaries.

The other distinctive fact is the recuperative power of modern states. Ancient statees did not possess it. Once declining, they declined with increasing rapidity until their ruin was complete. The parabola of a projectile might be called the symbol of ancient leading states --- a curve, which slowly rises, reaches its maximum, and precipitately descends, not to rise again; while the line of modern civilzation, power, and even freedom, resembles, in several cases, those undulation curves which, having risen to one maximum, do not forego the rising to another, though they decline in the meantime to a minimum. Well may we call this curve the symbol of our public hope. If it were not so, must not many a modern man sink into the gloom of a Tacitus?

Now, closely connected with these, and especially with the second fact, it seems to me, in this observation, that in almost all the spheres of knowledge, action or production, the philosophizing inquirer into antiquity makes his appearance when the period of high vitality has passed. The Greek and Roman grammarians inquired into their exquiste languages when the period of vigorous productiveness in them, of literary creativeness, was gone or fast going ; when poets ceased to sing, historians ceased to gather, to compare and relate, and [COLUMN 2] orators ceased to speak. The jurists collected, systemized and tried to codify when a half and energizing common law was giving rapidly away to the simple mandates and decrees of the ruler, or had ceased to be among the living and productive things ; the aesthetic writer found the canons of the beautiful, when the sculptor and the architect were stimulated more and more by imitation of the inspired master-works created by the genius of by-gone days, and Aristotle founds the science of politics--we can hardly consider Pythagoras as the founder-- when Athens and all Greece were drifting fast toward the breakers where the Roman wreckers were to gather the still glorious wrecks, and Cicero writes his work of the Republic when that dread time was approaching, in which, as a contemporary President of the French Senate has officially expressed it, the Roman democracy ascended the throne in the person of the Ceasars--rulers of whom we speak,speaking plain language, simply say that Tacitus and Suetonius have described them--people, whether we call them democracy or not, broken in spirit and so worthless that they rapidly ceased to know how to work for their living, or to fight for their existence--rulers and people whose history bears the impressive title, Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire.

It is different in modern times, thank God! Modern critics, philosophers and teachers in almost every branch, have lived while their age was productive, and frequently they have aided in bringing on fresh and sometimes greater epochs. In the science of politics this fact appears in a strong light. England has advanced in power, freedom and civilization since Thomas more, Harrington, Milton, Bacon, Sydney, and Locke, William Temple, and even Ferguson, wrote and taught France, whatever we may think of her present period of imperial transition and compressing absolutism, had far advanced beyond that state in which she was from the times of Bordinus and Montequieu down to Rousseau or the Physiocrats, and will rise above the present period, in which Guizot and de Tocqueville have given their works to her. Italy, however disappointed her patriots and friends may be at this moment, and however low that country which is loved by our whole race, like the favourite sister of the family, had once sunk, stands forth more hopeful than prehaps she has done at any time since Thomas ab Aquino* and Dante, † or Machiavelli and Paolo Sarpi, and all her writes down to Filangieri, that meditated on the State. If there are those who think I have stated what is not warranted by the inadequate settlement of Northern Italy, if, indeed, it prove a settlement, and by an arbitrary peace which, in its sudden conclusion, by two single men, unattended by any counsellor of their own, or representative of any ally, in behalf of near ninety millions of people, presents absolutism and foreign rule more nakedly than any other fact in modern Europe that I remember-- if the affairs of Italy can be viewed in this light. I must point to the fact that in spite of all this arbitrariness, the question : Do the people wish for this or that government, this or that dynasty ? forces itself into hearing, and is allowed ot enter as an element in the settlement of national affairs. It may indicate an imperfect state of things that this fact must be pointed out by the publicist as a signal step in advance, but it will be readily acknowledged as a characteristic change, for the better, if we consider that in all those great settlements for the last century and of the present, by which the territories of the continental governments were rearranged, reigning houses were shifted and states were made and unmade, Italy was consulted about herself no more than the princely hunter consults hthe hart which his huntsman cuts up for distribution among the guests and fellow-hunters. This century may yet see a united Italia, when at length it will cease to be di dolor ostello of that song of woe.

Germany, with whatever feelings he that loves her may behold taht noble country, robbed as she is of her rightful heirship and historic adumbration, as a nation in full political standing among the peoples of the earth, for her own safety, national honour, and the benefit of general peace and civilization, has, nevertheless, advanced towards unity and freedom since the times of Grotius and Spinoza (I call them hers), and Puffendorf, Wolf, Schlötzer and Kant, and will advance beyond what she is in these days of Zacnariae, Welker, Mittermaier and Mohl. Truth forces the philosopher to state the fact, such as it is, although as patriot he finds it difficult to acknowledge the pittance of national political existence as yet doled out by modern history to that country, whose present intellectual influence vies with the political she once possessed under the Hohenstaufen.

The teacher of political science, in these days, without amusing himself with shallow optimism, has then the encouraging consciousness that his not is not neces——————————————————————————————— * De Rebus Publicis et Principum Institutione Libri IV. † De Monarchia.

[COLUMN 3] sarily the mere summing up and putting on record of a political life of better and of by-gone days, never to return, not to be surpassed. The historian, whom Schlegel calls the prophet of the past, may, in our days, also be the sower of fresh harvests. The teaching of the publicist may become an element of living statesmanship; he may analyze essential fundamentals of his own society, of which it may not have been conscious, and the knowledge of which may influence future courses; he may awaken, he may warn and impress the lesson of inevitable historic sequences, and he may give the impulse to essential reforms; he may help to sober and recal intoxicated racers, hurrying down on dangerous slopes, and he may assist the manly jurist and advocate in planting on the out-lying downs of civil life those hardy blades which worry back each aggressive wave, when walls of stone prove powerless against the stormy floods of the invading sea of power; he may contribute his share to the nautical almanac, and the sailing directions for the practical helmsman ; he may Pronounce truths which legislators quote as guiding rules in the parliament of his own country, or statesmen when met in a Congress of entire nations ; his teaching may modify, unconsciously to the actors themselves, and even in spite of their own belief, the course of passion or set bounds to the worst of all political evils, public levity and popular indifference—if he will resolutely speak out the truth, and if he occupies a free position. Others must judge whether I am accustomed to do the one; I think I occupy the other.

Few public teachers of public law may have occupied a freer position than I do here before you. I belong to no party when teaching. All I acknowledge is Patria cara, carior libertas, veritas carissima. No government, no censor, no suspicious partisan watches my words; no party tradition fetters me ; no connection force special pleadings on me. I am surrounded by that tone of liberality, with that absence of petty inquisition which belong to populous and active cities, where the varied interests of life, religion and knowledge meet and modify one another. Those who have called me to this chair know what I have taught in my works, and that on no occasion have I bent to adjust my words to gain the approbation of prince or people. The Trustees of this institution have called me hither with entire trust. Neither before nor after my appointment have they inmated to me, however indirectly, collectively or individually, by hint or question, or by shewing me their own convictions, how they might wish me to tinge one or the other of the many delicate discussions belonging to my branches. I can gain no advantage by my teaching ; neither title, order, rank or advancement on the one hand, nor party reward or political lucre on the other—not even popularity. Philosophy is not one of the roads to the popular mind. All that the most gifted inmy precise position could possibly attain to, is the reputation of a just, wise, fearless, profound, erudite and fervent teacher. This, indeed, includes the highest reward, which he who addresses you will endeavor to approach as near as lies within him.

But if the modern teacher of political science enjoys advantages over the teacher of ancient times, there are also difficulties which beset the modern teacher, some peculiar to our own period and some to our own country at this time.

Political science meets, to this day, with the stolid objection : What is it good for? Are statesmen made by books, or have the best books been made by the best statesmen? The name given to an entire party, under Louis Philippe—the doctrinairs—seems to be signficant in this point of view. you are, so we are told even by men of cultivated minds, not farther advanced than Aristotle was; and what must we think of the tree, if we judge by its fruits, the fantastic conceptions of the so-called Best State, with which the history of your science abounds? And Hume, the philosopher, said : "I am apt to entertain a suspicion that this world is still too young to fix any general truths in politics which will remain true to the latest posterity." But, if the world is old enough to commit political sins and crimes of every variety of error, it can not be too young to sink the shafts for the ore of knowledge, though the nuggets of pure truth may be rare. Does the miner of any other science hope for more?

Some friends have expressed their surprise that in my inaugural address I should have considered it necessary to dwell on the dignity and practical utility of political science as a branch of public instruction. I confess their surprise astonished me in turn. Not more than twenty years ago, Dahlmann said that "the majority of men believe to this day that every thing must be decided by the light of nature," meaning what is generally understood by common sense. Have things changed since these words were spoken? As late as in the year 1852, de Tocqueville, when presiding over the Academy of Morals and Politics, occupied himself in his annual [END OF COLUMN 3]

THE COURANT ; A SOUTHERN LITERARY JOURNAL 207

[column 1] address chiefly with the consideration of the prejudices still prevailing, not only among the people at large, but amoung statesmen and politicians themselves, against the science and studies cultivated by that division of the Institute of France ; * and Hegel, esteemed by many the most profound and comprehensive thinker of modern times, says in his Philosophy of History, when speaking of that method of treating history which is called on the continent of Europe the pragmatic method, that "rulers, statesmen and nations are wont to be emphatically commended to the teahing which experience offers in history. But what experience and history teach is this—that peoples and governments never have learned anything from history or acted on principles deduced from it. Each period is involved in such peculiar circumstances, exhibits a condition of things so strictly idiosyncratic, that its conduct must be regulated by considerations connected with itself, and itself alone. Amid the pressure of great events, a general principle gives no hope. It is useless to revert to similar circumstances in the Past. The pallid shades of memory struggle in vain with the life and freedom of the Present."

I have quoted this passage, which appears to me feeble and unphilosophical, for the purpose of shewing that it is by no means useless to dwell, even in our age and in the midst of a civilized people, on the moral and practical importance, not only on the scientific interest of the study of history and politics, and must dismiss, at least in this brief introductory lecture, a thorough discussion of these remarks—inconsistent, since their author admits on teaching of history and experience ; suicidal to the philosopher, since they would extinguish the connexion between the different "periods;" and what becomes of the connexion of the events and facts within each period? What divides, philosophically speaking, the periods he refers to, so absolutely from one another? What becomes of continuity, without which it is irrational to speak of the philosophy of history? —unhistorical, for every earnest student knows how almost inconceivably great the influence of some political philosophers, and of the lessons of great historians, has been on the development of our race ; unreal, since Hegel makes an intrinsic distinction between the motive powers of nations and States, on the one hand, and of minor communities and individuals on the other; destructive, because what he says of political rules might be said of any rule of action, of laws, of constitutions ; and unpsychological, because he ignores the connexion between principle and practice, the preventive and modifying effect of the acknowledge principle or rule, whether estavlished by experience, science or authority, and its influence in many cases in spite of the actor, not unlike Julian, the apostate, whom Christianity did not wholly cease to influence though he warred against it.

Was ever usurpation stopped in its career of passion by a moral or political apothegm? Possibly it was. The flashes of sacred truth sometimes cross the clouds of gathering crime, and shew how dark it isl but whether or not, is not now the question. Was ever burglar, crow-bar in hand, stopped in his crime by reciting the eighth commandment? Probably not, although we actually know what murder, already unsheathed, has been heathed again; but, what is more important for the connected progress of our race is, that millions have prevented from fairly entering on the path of filching or robbery, by receiving at home and in the school, the tradition of that rule, "Thou shalt not steal," and of the whole decalogue, as one of the ethical elements of their society, which acts, although unrecited, and even unthought of in a rhousand cases, as the multiplication table or Euclid's Elements act, unrecited and unrememebred at the time, in the calculations of the astronomer or of the carpenter, and in the quick disposition which military genius makes in the midst of confused battles, or sea-captain beaiting in dirty weather through a strait of coral reefs.

We Americans would be peculiarly ungrateful to political science and history, were we to deny their influence. Every one who has carefully studied our early history, and more especially our formative period, when the present constitution struggled into existence, knows how signally appear the effects of the political literature on which a great measure of intellects of our patriots had been reared, and how often the measures which have given distinctness and feature to our system, were avowedly supported for adoption, by rules and examples drawn from the stores of history or political philosophy, either for commendation or warning. It is the very opposite to what Hegel maintains, and the finding of these threads is one of the greatest delights to the philosophic mind.

Even if the science of political were only, as so many mistake it to be, a collection of prescriptions for the art [footnote] *Even the minor lubrications of this excellent writer have acquired an additional interest since death has put an end to his work. I would refer, therefore, to the National Intelligencer, Washington, 6th May, 1852, where the entire address alluded to is given.

[Column 2] of ruling, and not quite as much of the art and science of obeying (why and when, whom and what, and how far we ought to obey)—but it is more that either— even then the science would be as necessary as the medical book is the the physician, or as the treatise on fencing, and the fencing-master himself, are to him who wishes to become expert in the art. No rule learned by heart will help in complex cases of highest urgency, but the best decision is made by strong sense and genius that have been trained. It is thus in grammar and composition. It is thus in all spheres. Every one that we may call the practitioner, requires much that no book can give, but which will be of no use if not cultivated by teaching; or if it does not receive the opportunity of being brought into play, when natural gift, theory and its interpretation by experience, melt into one homogeneous mass of choice Corinthian brass, in which the component elements can no longer be distinguished.

Although I shall not attempt to teach, in this course, actual statesmanship, or what has been styled the art of ruling, yet that which perhaps the older English writiers more especially meant by the word prudence, that is foresight (prudentia futurorum), must necessarily ener as a prominent element in all political discussions; nor do I desire to pass on without guarding myself against the misconception that I consider the scinece, the Knowing, as the highest aim of man. As mere erudition stands to real knowledge, so does Knowledge stand to Doing and Being. Action and character stand above science. Piety stands above theology; justice above jurisprudence; health and healing above medicine; poesy above poetics; freedom and good government above politics.

One of the most serious obstacles in the way of a ready reception of political science with that interest and favour which it deserves for the benefit of the whole community, is the confounding of the innumerable theories of the "Best State," and of all the Utopias, from Plato's Republic to modern communism, with political science. There is suspicion lurking in the minds of many persons that the periods of political fanaticism through which our race has passed have been the natural fruits of political speculation. But has the absence of political speculation led to no mischief, and not to the greater ones? Let Asia answer. Our race is eminently a speculative race, and we had better speculate about nature, language, truth, the state and man, calmly and earnestly, that is scientifically, than superstitiously and fanatically. One or the other our race will do. Brave jurists, noble historians, and free publicists have, to say the least, accompanied the rising political movement of our race, with their mediations and speculations. The most sinister despots of modern times have been, and are to this day, the most avowed enemies of political science. Inquiry incommodes them, and although absolutism has had its keen and eloquent political philosophers, it is nevertheless true that the words embroidered on the fillet which graces the brow of our muse have ever been: In Tyrannos.

On the other hand, is there any period of intense action free from these caricatures by which the Evil One always mocks that which is most scared? Is theology, is medicine, are the fine arts, was the early period of Christianity, was the Reformation, was ever a revolution, however righteous, was the revival of any great cause, the discovery of any great truth, free from its accompanying caricature? The differential calculus is a widely-spread blessing to knowledge and our progress, yet it had its caricature in the belief of one of the greatest minds that it might be found a means to prove the immortality of the soul. The humanitarian, the theological and the political philosopher know that the revival of letters and the love of Grecian literature mark a period most productive in our civilization, while the rise of modern national languages and literatures ushered in the new era, and has remained a permanent element of our whole advancement; yet Erasmus, the foremost scholar of his time, contemned the living speech of Europe, and allowed the dignity of language to none but the two idioms of antiquity. Our own age furnishes us with two notable instances of this historic caricature, appearing in the hall of history not unlike the gimacing monkey which the humourous architect of the middle ages sometimes placed in the foliage of his lofty architecture, near the high altar of the solemn cathedral. The history of labour, mechanical and predial, its gradual rise in dignity from the Roman slavery to its present union with science, is one of the golden threads in the texture we call the history of our race; yet we have witnessed, in our own times, the absurd effort of raising physical labour into an aristocracy as absolute, and more forbidding, than the aristocracy of the Golden Book of Venice, an absurdity which is certain to make its appearance again in some countries. Should we, on that account, refuse to read clearly, and with delight, the rise of labour in the book of history? [End of column 2]

[Column 3] Should we deplore the gradual elevation of the woman peculiar to our race, and all that has been written to produce it, because in our age it has been distorted by folly, and even infamy, or by that caricature of courtesy which allows the blackest crime to go unpunished because the malefactor is female, thus depriving woman of the high attribute of responsibility, and therefore degrading her?

We honour science; we go farther, we acknowledge that no nation can be great whcih does not honour intellectual greatness. Mediocrity is a bane, and a people that has no admiration but for victories gained on the battle-field, or for gains acquired in the market, must be content to abdicate its position among the leading nations. But no nation can be great that admires intellectual greatness alone, and does not hold rectitude, wisdom and sterling character in public esteem. The list of brilliant despots, in government or science, always followed, as they are, by periods of collapse and ruin, is long indeed. [CONCLUDED IN OUR NEXT.]

—————————————.———————————————————————— MILAN CATHEDRAL.—The interior of the cathedral is imposing, from its vast extent and lofty height. We were there during the performance of high mass, and the whole space of those high arches and dim aisles resounded with the notes of the grand organ, flooding the solemn air with its billowy sound.

Beneath the church is the renowned shrine of San Carlos Borromeo, which holds in sacred darkness the bones of the patron saint, and the countless treasures which his faithful worshippers have accumulated on his tomb as the slow years go by. No description is able to give an adequate conception of the elaborate decoration of this little many-sided room, the sides of which are said to be of silver altogether, and are wrought in bas-relief representing scenes in the life of San Carlos. The coffin in which the remains of the saint repose is of rock crystal, which reflects the light like diamonds, and is encased by a ponderous silver cover, which is liften and replaced by machinery. This outer coffin is ornamented in the same way as the sides of the room. The saint, clad in costly vestments, lies in his lonely resting-place, and above his hands is suspended a large cross of emeralds and diamonds, which flash a living radiance from out their dreary prison-house, and shame the feebler lustre of the lamps which strive to light up their dark abode The amount of wealth shut up here from the light of day, is the accumulation of many years, and the offering of many wealthy, if not pious hands. The shrine is kept under strong lock and key, and covered from all change of vulgar gaze, except upon high festival days, when, from a railed aperture in the church above, the public are allowed to gaze down into its splendour. As a fee paid to the priest redeems the stranger from all imputation of curiosity, and makes even the possibility of heresy tolerable, we easily obtained entrance to the shrine, conducted by an attendant, who donned official robes for the occasion, and went through the showing of the relics with dignified gravity and politeness.—Highways of Travel. ————————————.———————————————————— LIQUID MARBLE.—A French correspondent announces that M. Jobarb, of Brussels, has invented a composition which, when moulded and hardened, is not to be distinguished from marble—not the veiny, greasy stuff in use for chimneys and vases, but the pure and spotless Carrara, transparent, polished and hard as the real substance taken from the quarry. This marble, which is to be prepared for the sculptors in a liquid state, will, like many other artificial inventions, possess an immense advantage over the natural production itself. It can be moulded on the plaster figure, and thus, instead of having to hack and hew the shapeless block, with great pains and labour, the artist will henceforth realize the genuine impression of his cast at once, and, with scarcely any further exertion, bring out his creation with all the freshness and vigour of the first idea. The invention, which has created an immense sensation in the world of art, is due to a practical chemist of Brussels, of the name of Changy, the same skilful practitioner who discovered the divisibility of the electric light, and the miraculous draught of fishes by means of the chemical light, which is sunk at the bottom of the sea. M. Jobarb, whose word cannot be doubted, pledges his honor that the table on which he writes has been composed by M. Changy's process, and possesses every quality of the finest marble, and that after having submitted various specimens of the substance, both black and white, to every chemical test in use, he had come to the conclusion that the composition of marble is no longer a secret of Dame Nature, and that man has at length learned to rival her in the most cunning of her works, while Art will rejoice at beholding her sons freed from the laborious toil which hitherto rendered the sculport's profession so difficult of pursuit. ———————————.———————————————————— He who forsees calamities suffers them twice. [End of column 3]

~- 1\ 20~_. - THE COURANT; A SOUTHERN LITERARY JOURNAL. TFIE COUl~ANT 001·um.1:::>ia, s. o., JIY \'. W. W~\.LK1rn, .Jn., & Uo., AT TWO DOLLARS PER ANNUM, INVARIABLY IN ADVANCE. --:o:-­Rates of A<lvertisiug: One squ11re of eight lines, or less, so!i,l Minion, une iu.scrtiou $1 00. '' ·' " " " '· cnch sul1t-1c11ucmt u 50. All advertiseme11ts from parties at a distance must he pa,itl in ad­vance. PROCLAMATION. By 1,i, f:J·cel/eue.r IV1£.LIA.,Jf H. U[S1', Uorem,,,· mu/ Uoorn11111de1·­;,,.() 1tief i11 rrnd ,,,,.,. the St«te of Soatk CMoli11«. ExEuu·r1VR DgPAR'rMEN1', UNrONVILLrn, S. C. WIIEREAR, _it hceo111eth ,1 religious people, at all times, to ac­knowledge the han,1 ot' Providence, and to recognize His will in the disposition of crnnt,: And, whereas, tho past senson has boon pceuli,uly distinguished by th(• smiles of a merciful Benefactor, who bas exempted Ottr be­loved 'talc rrom storm an<I pestilence, tLnd b\csso,l her people with signal pro;perity : Now, tboreforo, I, WILLIAM IL GIST, Governor of Llie State of South Carolina, do, by tbe~c presents, set ap:1rt THURSDAY, the twenty-fourth day of November uext,, as a day of Thanksgiving and Prayer; and I do earnestly request the citi,ons of this Common­wealth to abstain from worldly avoeatious on that day, am\ the Reverend tho Clergy of all <lonominations lo invoke their respective Congregations to assomblo ,111<.l offer their ,wknowledgments to Al­mighty God for the goo(lness antl mercies which have been so aburnlan tly vouchsafed us lLS a people. Given under my h!Lnd and se,1! of the Stille, this nineteenth day of October, in the year of our Lord one thous11nrl eight hundred and fifty-nine, and in the eighty-fourth ye,u· of the Sovereignty and Independence of the United States of America. By the Governor, ISAAC II. MEANS, October 27, 185~. 26-1 Secretary of State. THE FOURTH ANNUAL FAIR State .Agricultural Society OF SOUTH CAROLINA, WILL DE HELD AT COLUMDIA, Ou the 8th, 9th, 10th aud 11th of November, 1859, TIIE Executive Committee of the State Agricultural Society of South C11rolin,1, beg leave to call the attention of the citizens of South Carolina, and the Southern States, to their approaching Annual Festival. The Premium List is a very comprehensive one, and Premiums will be awarded on every article of merit coming within the range of the AGRICULTURAL, HORTICULTURAL, and MECHANICAL Departments, >M well as the FINE ARTS, LADIES' FANCY WORK, ant! DOME8TIC ECONOMY. In addition to the largo and admirably-arranged Halls for the accommodation of Exhibitors, the Committee h11ve malle other very important improvements, which will add much to tho comfort and enjoyment of visitors. A SPACIOUS AMPHITHEA'f'RE will also be in rcarliness, to smit some thousands, and add to the interest of the Exhibition. The track for the exercise and display of "fast trotters" bas been put in order, aud 'the trotters already entered promise something exciting. Visitors will be passed over all the Railroads in the State, during the week of exhibition, for one fare. All articles and animals, intended expres•l11 fm· cxhibitio,i, will be passed, (at the owners' risk) over all the R11ilroads in South Carolina without charge, except the South Carolina Railroad, and Cheraw and Darlington Roads, which will demand one-half freight. Visitors should take the precaution to procure Return Tickets when thoy pay their fare, to avoid embarrassment and delay. Exhibitors will please give the Railroad Officers timely notice of such animals and articles as they may wish transported, as well as the time and point of delivery. A. P. CALHOUN, I J. A. METTS, R. HARLEE, W. R. ROBERTSON, D. w. RAY, I R. J. GAGE, J. F. MARSHALL, Executive Committee. October 6, 1859, 23-6 SOUTH CAROLINA INSTITUTE FAIR. TO be held in Charleston, November 15th, 1S59. Competition open to all. Fair for the promotion of ART, MECHANICAL INGENUITY aud INDUSTRY, At their large and commodious Building in the City of Charleston, S. C., commencing on TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 15th, 1859. Suitable Premiums will be given for the best specimens in Art, Mechanism and other branches of Industry ; also for Cotton, Rice, Sugar, Tobacco, Corn, Wheat, Rye, Oats, Potatoes, and other Agri-, cultural Products. • All Articles entered for Premiums, must be sent in on or beforo Friday, the eleventh d11y of November next, and directed to the care of Mr. Thomas Aim11r, Clerk of the South Carolina Institute, Charleston. Articles may be sent after that day for EXIlIDITION ONLY, Contributors to the Fair are respectfully 1·equested to send full descriptions of the articles, and such general information as may be of use to the Judges, and suitable for publica · on. Every attention will be paid to all articles sent for exhibition. Aug. 1859. 16-tf. FAJl.fILY GROCERIES. J. N. & 'f. D. FEASTER HA VE on hand, and are still receiving, a choice article of Suoiar­Cured Hams, Bacon Strips, Sides and Shoulders, L~d, Goshen and Country Butter, Smoked and Pickled Beef, Pork and Tongues, Mackerel, Salmon, Shad and White Fish, Extra Family Flour, Rice, Potatoes, Beans, &c., Pickles, Preserves, Spice, Pepper, Ginger and many other articles 11ppert11ining to the GROCERY business, which they offer at Low Prices for CASH. A carefully selected assortment of the best Wines, Brandies, Ale, &c., kept constantly on hand, all of which we Warrant Pure. Give us a trial, and we will endeavor to give satisfaction. Our terms are strictly CASH. F, l!V. HOADLHY, ATTORNEY A'l' LAW AND SOLICITOlt 1N CIIANCJmY, (x'ormcrly of' Columbia, S. C.,) Ll'l"fLF. norK. AJLKANS.\8. PARTICULA It ,itl,cntinn gircn to the collection of claims in any part of the Sk1tc, huying and selling of lands, locatmg sw:~mps an,\ ovcrllnwerl lan<ls, entering land :it. the Gcncrnl Lan,\ Offices, anti 1rnying taxes on J11,nrls in nny county in Arkansas. ,Tune JG, 1859 7-ly · I◄', PATTERSON & CO,, WllOLESALF, anrl Hntail Dealers in Books, Stat~onery, Fancy Goou,, Daily aml Weekly Newspapers, Magazmes, &c. Cor­ner of Kiug aml Society Streets, Charleston, R. C. N. B.-Misccllnncous >1ud Mail Orders for Goods, whether in our !i~ or not, prompt!:)'._ attended to. _ _ [May 5~9. 1-tf CAROLINA HIGH SCHOOL, Columbia, S. C, { A. B. BRUMBY, A. M.-Latin and Mathematics. PRINCIPALS J. WOOD DAVIDSON, A. M.-Greek and English. AS~1s·rAN1', 'l'. BEZANCOK-Graduate University France-French. 'l'erms $:JO per session. May 5., 1859. l-tf S, G. COURTENAY & CO,, No. 9 BROAD STREET, BOOKSI~LLERS and Stationers, Chc,1p Pnblications, Magazines ancl Newspttpers. Charleston, S. C. [r.fay 5, 1859 l-tf CONGAREE RESTAURANT, l!'JRS'l' DOOR A.BOVE ;JANNEY•S HOTEL, STORK & HUSSUNG WOULD respectfully inform their friends and the public geu­ernlly that thoy lrnve now opened their EATING ESTAB­LISHMENT, and solicit a share of p>itrnnagc. Meals fnrnisbecl >it all hours by experiencell caterers. FISH, GAME, OYSTERS, ETC., IN SEASON. The heRt of Liquors, Wines, and Lager Beer alw11ys on hand. Oetober 20, 1859. 25-2 LAGER BEER, (AT 'XHE SIGN OF THE GOLDEN BUCK.) WE now inform the citizens of Columbia and the surrounding country, that we are able to supply them with the healthiest LAGER BEER in the worlcl. It is brewed out of malt and hops and mineral spring water. For sale by the barrel, dozeu anll gallon: Every two hours a small barrel put fresh on draught. Jl)IIN SEEGERS & CO., No 101 Richardson Street. Aug. 11-59. l 5-tf. ALLEN & DIAL, IMPORTERS and Dealers in English ,md American Hardware and Cutlery, Iron, Steel, Nails, Castings, Mill-Stones, Bolting Cloths, Mill-Irons, Sngar Pans, India Rubber and Leather Belting, Carpenters', Placksmiths' and Tanners' Tools, Housekeeping and Furnishing Hardwaro, Agricultural Implements, Lime, Cement, Plaster, P11ints, Oils, French and American Window Glass, Guns, Rifles, Pistols, Shot-Belts, Powder-Flasks, Powder, Shot, &c.; whole­sale or retail; tLt the sign of the Golden Pad-Lock, Columbia, S. C. J. M. ALLEN. J. C. DIAL. M11y 19, 1859 3-tf WEARN & HIX, :No. 110 MAIN STREET, COLUMBIA, S. C., ARE prepared to execute Portraits, from Miniature to Life i;lize, in all departmeutsof the Photographic Art. The public are invited to call and inspect specimens of the new and beautiful IVORYTYPE. May 5, 1859. 1-tf PAPER COMMISSION WAREHOUSE, AND PRINTERS' DEPOT, FOR the sale of Writing, Printing, Envelope, and Colored Papers, Cards, and Printing Materials of all kinds. Agent for L. JOHN­SON & Co., Type Founders, R . HOE & Co., ancl other Printing Press makers. Printing Inks, of best quality, at Manufacturers' Prices. TO MERCHANTS. The subscriber begs to call attention to his Large Stock of Writ­ing ancl W ra.pping Paper of all kinds, wh10h he will sell very low for cash, or short credit on large sums. ,JOSEPH WALKER, 120 Meeting Street, May, 5, 1859 1-tf Charleston, S. C. DR, ~I. GROSS & CO,'S UNRIVALLED Vegetable Compound, tbe HYGIENE BIT­TERS. For sale, wholosale and retail, by Oct. 6, 1859. JOHN SEEGERS & CO., Agents, 23-tf. Columbia, S. C. SHINGLER BROTHERS, DEALERS iu Exchange, Uncurrent Money, Land Warrants, &c. No. 7 Broad Street, Charleston, S. C. [May 5, 1859. 1-tf TO 'l'RAVELERS, SCHEDULE OF THE SOUTH CAROLINA RAILROAD. Northern Route, COLUMBIA ATHEN.lEU!U, NO. 19H RICHARDt'\ON STREET, LIBRARY contninfl ,tbout 2,800 volmnes. Reacling Room has on file leading English and .A.mc_rican magazines, and newspapers from tile princi1):tl cities of the Unwn. Propi·foto,·slrip-Onc H,mdred Dollars. Ann,ral Subscriptioit-Fivc Dolhl,rs per annum, payable in ad­vance. ~ The Library a.nd Reading Room arc open, claily, from 9, A. :;\{., to 1, P. M., from 1l to 5, :tml from 7 to IO, P . .M. Hon. W. C. PRESTON, Pres't. \V. ,v. WAT,Kf:R, Jr., ,-ccretary. :;\,fay l 9, 1859 3-tf ---------------- WOOD, EDDY & CO'S SINGLE NUMBER LOTTERIES! Grand Capital Prize $100,000 NEARLY ONE PRIZE TO EVERY NISE TlCKETS. 'fHE EXTRAORDINARY DRAWINGS 0 1!' Wood, Eddy & Co.'s Single Number Lotteries will take place in public, under the superintendence of sworn Commissioners at Augusta, Georgia, :ts follows :-Class No. '47 draws Saturday' November 19, 1859; Class No. 51 dr:i.ws Saturday, December 1/ 1859; Class No. 56 c\rnws Saturday, January 21, 1860; Class No. 60 draws Saturday, February l 8, 1860. ---:o:--- EXTRAORDINARY DRAWING, To take place ns above specified. One Gmnd Capitlll Prize of $100,000 ! ! ! l Prize of 1 $50,000 I 1 Prize of 30,000 1 " 1 1 1 :t 1 " " " " 15,000 20 Prizes of 10,000 1100 5,000 1100 5,000 100 5,000 150 " " " Ap11roximatiou I>rizes. 4 Prizes of$600 Approximating to $100,000 Prize, are 4 " " 500 " 50,000 " " 4 " " 400 30,000 " " 4 " " 300 15,000 " " 4 " " 200 " 10,000 " " 20 " " 100 5,000 5,000 " " 20 are 5,000 5,000 2,000 1,000 500 400 300 $2,400 2,000 1,600 1,200 800 2,000 .. 100,000 5,520 Prizes amounting to 615,000 Whole Tickets $20, Halves $10, Quarters 5, Eighths '2,50. ---:o:--- THE ORDINARY DRA\'1-'l.NGS of Wood, Eddy & Co.'s Lotteries, will take place at Augusta, Geor­gia, as follows :- 1 1 1 1 1 1 Class 45 Draws on Saturday, November 5, 1859. Class 46 Draws on Saturday, November 12, 1859. Class 48 Draws on Saturday, November 26, 1859. Class 49 Draws on Saturday, December 3, 1859. Class 50 Draws on Saturday, December 10, 1859. Class 52 Draws on Saturday, December 24, 1859. Class 53 Draws on Saturday, December 31 1859 Class 54 Draws on Saturday, January 7' 1860. Class 55 Draws on Saturday, January u; 1860: Class 57 Draws on Saturday, January 28, 1860. ---:o:--- ORDINARY DRAWING To take place as abo,e specified. One Grand Capital Prize of $50,000 ! ! ! Prize of $20,000 50 Prizes of " " 10,000 100 " " 5,000 100 " 4,000 100 " " 3,000 100 " 1,500 Approximation Prizes. 4 Prizes of $JOO Approximating to '50,000 Prize are 4 " " 300 " 20,000 " " 4 " " 250 10 000 " 4 " " 225 " 5;000 " " 4 " " 200 4,000 " " 4 " " 150 " 3,000 " " 4 " " 100 J 500 " 5,000 " " 20 are ' 500 400 300 150 100 "1,600 1,200 1,000 900 800 600 400 100,000 5,485 Prizes, amounting to $320,000 Wltole Tickets $10; Halves $5; Quarters $2 50. WOOD, EDDY & CO,'S GR.A.ND EXTRAORDINARY DRAWINGS On the Three Number Plan, Stations. D. Trains. Leave Charleston, 10.25 a. m. Arrive at Kingsville, (Junction of the Wil-iY. Trains. 1 8.30 p. m. I@"' GA.PIT AL PRIZE $100,000 ! ! ! ~ Takes place on the last Saturday in each 1\Ionth. Whole Tickets $20, Halves $10, Quarters 5, Eighths :$2,50. mington and Manchester Railro11d) .. 4c.50 p. m, Arrive at Columbia, 6.30 p. m. Arrive at Camden, 7.20 p. m. Leave Ca.nden, 4.10 a. m. Leave Columbia, 5·00 a. m. Leave Kingsville, 6.45 a. m .. Arrive at Charleston, 1.00 p. m. W esteru Route, 4.40 a. m. 6.45 a. m. 1.30 p. m. 3.30 p. m. 11.00 p. m. Leave Charleston, 5.45 a. m. 2.30 p. m. Arrive at Augusta, 1.15 p. m. 11.15 p. m. Leave Augusta, 10.10 a. m. 8.15 p. m, Arrive at Charleston, 5.30 p. m. 5.20 a. m. Through Travel Between Augusta and Kingsville. Leave Augusta, 10.10 a. m. 8.15 p. m. Arrive at Kingsville, 4.50 p. m. 4.40 a. m. Leave Kingsville, 6.45 a. m. 3.30 p. m. Arrive at Augusta, 1.15 p. m. 11.15 p. m. May 5, 1859 1-tf CARRIAGE F'OR SALE. AN Excellent two-horse CARRIAGE, somewhat nsed, but in good condition, will be sold very che,iip for cash, or exchanged for a smaller one-horse carriage, suitable for a small family. Apply --:o:--- Iu Ordering Tickets or Ce11ificates, Enclose the amount of money .to o~r address for what you wish to purchase; n~me the Lottery m which you wish it invested, and wheth~r you wish Whol~s, Halves, Quarters, or Eighths, on receipt of which we send what is ordered, by first mail together with the scheme. ' Im~ed:iately af!er drawing :L P1·inted Drawing, Certified to by the Comm1ss1oners, will b_e sent with an Explanation. _., Purchas_ers mil please write their signatures plain, and give the name of their Post Office, County and State. All communications strictly confidential. .!/&: All prizes _of $1,000 and under, paid immediately after the drawmg; other _pnzes at the usual time of Forty Days. Orders for Tickets or Certificates, to be directed to WOOD, EDDY & CO., .Augusta, Georgia, or WOOD, EDDY & CO., Atlanttt, Georgia, or WOOD, EDDY & CO., Wilmington, Delaware. A list of the numbers that are drawn fcom the wheel, with the amount of the prize that each one is entitled to, will be published af'.ter _ever~ drawing, in the following l!apers :-Augusta (Ga.) Con­shtut10nal1st, Mobile Register, N ashVJlle Gazette, Richmond Dis­June 30, 1859. 9-tf t at this office. 21-2 Sept. 22 pat-0h, and Paulding (Miss.) Clarion. _ May 26, 1 59 4-ly ~-==========~=====~=============;::=============~

212 THE COURANT A SOUTHERN LITERARY JOURNAL. Letters fur the Courant. HORSE-BACK AMONG THE MOUNTAINS. NO. II.―TOCCOAH FALLS DY MOONLIGHT. DEAR CALDWELL:―The first plnce of interest which I visited among the mountains was Toccoah Falls―"on a creek of the same name. The water falls more than one hundred and eighty-five feet, perpendicular. No description can give an idea of the beauties of this fall and the surrounding scenery." This encomium by White, in his statistics of Georgia, is by no means lavish; for Deity, in creating this inimitable cascade, made for us a "thing of beauty," which will charm the traveller's eye and refresh his fancy as long as he worships nature. It is a sudden gleam of sunshine on his path; for there is nothing in the generally level aspect of the country, especially on the southern side, to arouse his anticipntions. It is, indeed, the entrance―the open sesame―to that universe of wild, rugged and wondrous sublimity that lies beyond, among the· "Southern Alleghanies." With this thought in the mind, how pleasant it is to contemplate Toccoah, and listen to her sweet voice as she seems to speak―the only way to regions of higher development and joy is through " the gate of the Beautiful! "

The narrow dell through which the "wild brook" runs below the Falls faces to the south-east, and the hills on either side descend for a half-mile, when they reach the common level of the country. Some fifty or seventy-five yards below the Falls the stream turns gently to the right; and from this point upward to the leap, the banks are exceedingly steep and precipitous. In this way there is formed an isolated picture, with just enough of the dark and sublime in the back-ground to present the matchless drapery of the cascade in the happiest light. Within this amphitheatre are a few large beech trees, designed by nature to heighten the effect of the scene, but adopted by a host of visitors as the fittest place to consign their names to immortality. It is an instinct of the pilgrim to carry relics away and leave his name behind.

To stand within this penetralia, and gaze and think and feel, is to be wooed into "newness of life" by the exquisite loveliness of the sceue around you. The wave-like fall of the water―the clouds of snowy spray into which they are dashed by the tremendous leap―the rainbow encircling the swandown bosom of the cascade―the purple hue of the mist floating away in the sunlight―give it an air of felicitous beauty indescribable. Besides this, the river makes "a clear leap" over the precipice; and the adventurous foot may clamber up the rocks behind the silvery sheet of water, where the eye feasts upon a most novel and enchanting spectacle.

The time of my visit to these Falls was most auspicious.― It was an August night; the full moon was in all her glory; and the blue sky bent oyer the scene as if in love with it.― Here and there a thin gauzy, or purple and silver-edged cloud floated on to the west. As they passed, one by one, over tpe face of the full-orbed moon, a tinge of deeper or softer gloom fell upon the Falls and landscape, and when the moon sailed out into the waveless lakes of blue, its "touch turned all bright again." No language can convey the least idea of the ever-varying, ever-enchanting loveliness, imparted to the cascade and scene around by the ætherial touches of the moonlight.

At present the only house on the road near the Falls is that of a native Anthem-ite. I called at the gate, and asked to stay the night. "Our lady" met me at the gate. "Indade, Sir, we have no room for yer horse." I replied that he could feed on the green corn; and that I desired to see the Falls by night. "An' you will go all the way up the dark ravine to-night?" "Oh! yes, ma'am!" "Well! well! get down. William ! my son ! run pull some o' the corn the pags broke down for the man's horse, and cut off the grane tops, and come by the house and get a wash-pan full of the shaled corn, which is for male, and fade 'im good: "―thus displaying a cordial hospitality, for which I was sincerely grateful.

I was soon en route for the Falls, and "William" with me. His wonderful information and loquacity on the subject of Venus' pups and the "'coon" hounds, excited my keenest apprehensions that I should be entertained with a mock-heroic while endeavouring to study and feel the scene. But at a single request he had the good sense to desist.

As I advanced, the luxuriant foliage of the vine-covered trees, shivering in the breeze and shimmering in the moonlight― the blue skies above me, melting with all the voluptuous and warm hues of a summer night, and the faint roar of the waterfall, so new to me then, and unearthly as the voice of an angel ―set my spirits in motion. There was something of real enchantment in thus going into the fairy presence of this unknown, mystical goddess of the wilderness. You know how the heart leaps and flutters when the lover, for the first time, enters the presence of his matchless fair one ; what a flood of anticipation, suspense, hope and fear gushes on the soul ! It is thus that the simple knowledge of Toccoah near ────"Takes the prisoned soul And laps it in Elysium" Vain Fancy, eager to out-rival the eye in its discernment of the naked reality, or striving to paint the coming scene truthfully, conjured up a thousand images of novelty and beauty. All was suspense and expectation, or futile effort to grasp the picture ideally, ere the eye had seen.

At the bend in the ravine above mentioned, the Falls first flashed upon me in all their captivating and transcendent loveliness. For a single moment I imagined the yellowish-grey granite walls to be a huge pile of "thunder-heads," and the snowy little stream descending, to be some strange, unaccountable phenomenon―perhaps the manna-strewn pathway of angels from earth to heaven. My next idea, which dawned instantly, as a thin cloud veiled the moon and draped the scene in sadness, was of Hagar in wilderness. Her love for Abraham―her abundoned situation―her beauty―her grief―her prayer, and the angel's voice "calling to her out of heaven "―were all limned forth inimitably in the picture before me. Neither the passion of Juliet, nor the madness of Ophelia, reigned there; but the inexpressible love of Cordelia. It was a moment for all men before they distrust the depth, the purity, and the power of woman's nature.

I gazed upon the picture, thus shaded, till imagination transformed the snowy stream, which is indistinctly tri-cleft by the rocks over which it pours, into three sleeping angels or graces. The one on the left of the cascade is an almost perfect delusion by moonlight. I shewed it to the Irish lad with me, who recognized the semblance immediately, and was wonderfully pleased with the new discovery. Again the "court-dresser, Fancy," as Locke styles it, suggested this as a "bodying forth" of "Faith, Hope and Charity." The chastened loveliness, the thrilling beauty, and the unchanging spirit of goodness that dwell in Toccoah, may well invoke such ideas from the sleepy realms of imagination.

There is another impression which I had, in common with an old mountain-poet, as he afterwards told me, who visited these Falls under similur circumstances about forty years ago. The plastic hand of the summer mgonlight was weaving its fairy web of magic over the scene. The blue sky, intensely clear in the region of the zenith, seemed to blend with the summit of the rock, and the stream appeared to gush through some open window of heaven. It was, indeed, an almost realizing sense of the "River of Life," let loose from the heavenly throne. No one can properly underst11nd the faithfulness of this fancy till he visits Toccoah by moonlight; yet no other idea, perhaps, introduces the reader or observer to so many of its indefinable attractions. The great pleasure it afforded me was heightened by the coincidence that it gave wings to a highland poet and lover forty years ago.

He must be strangely callous who could make a pilgrimage to this lovely spot without returning a better and a wiser man. To be cold and unmoved when Toccoah is pleading for "fulness even to tears," is akin to aetheism, either of belief or feeling. With all its entrancing loveliness―its goodness-impressing influence, and its manifold and multiform phases of unique beauty―it whispers into the heart a Sabbath hymn, paraphrasing the two great commandments―love to God and love to man. It is truly a personification of "Faith, Hope and Charity." It also carries preeminently within itself the image of what is genuine and angelic in woman. If I were in search of something like the sweet spell which a fair young bride, of artless grace nnd modesty, fastens on those around her; or, like the sweet sadness of a true girl when she promises to give up her youth and childhood's home for the one she loves; or, like Cordelia, when she loved Lear more in her silence and hate, than Goneril and Regan did in their empty professions and his mournfully-mad partiality, I know not where in nature I should sooner go than to the soul-stirring beauties of Toccoah by moonlight. Yours truly, WILLIE EAST.

THE following is_ from the London Critic :

"His Highnes Prince Louis Lucien Bonaparte continues to print small portions of the Holy Scriptures in the different dialects of this country. His last publications of the kind are 'The Song of Solomon in the Westmoreland Dialect, from the Authorized English Version,' by the Rev. John Richardson, M. A. ; 'The Song of Solomon in the Cumberland Dialect from the Authorized Entlish Version,' by John Rayson; and 'The Song of Solomon m the Newcastle Dialect from the Authorized English Version,' by John George Forster. The following brief specimens of each of these versions will, perhaps, prove interesting to some of our readers. Westmoreland dialect: '1. T' sang o' sangs, 'at's Solomon's. 2. Let um kiss me wi't kisses uv his mooth : for thy luv's better nor wine. 3. 'Cos o' t' sniff o' thy good ointments thy neeam's as ointment teeam'd oot, that's what-for t' virgins luv the.' Cumberland dialect: 'l. The sang o' sangs, whilk is Solomon's. 2. Let him kiss me wi' the kisses o his mwouth: for thy luive is far afwore weyne. 3. Becwous o' the savor o' thy guid ointmint thy neame is ointmint teemed out, therfwore dui the meaidens luive thee.' Newcastle dialect: '1. The sang o' sangs, which is Solomon's. 2. Let him kiss me wi' the kisses o' his mooth for thy luiv is bettor nor wine. 3. Becaus o' the savur o' thy' gud ointments, thy n'yem is as ointment teemed oot, and sae the vargins luiv the.' Of the last-mentioned we shall give one more specimen, leavmg it to our readers to decide which of these three elegant versions deserves the palm ( chap. vii. v. 1): 'Hoo bonny are thy feet wi' shoon, O prince's dowtor ! the joints o' thy thees are like jewls, he wark o' the han's ov a clivor warkman.' "

IT has been inferred that Dryden wasn't opposed to sherry cobbler, from a remark he once made: "Straws may be made the instruments of happiness."

FRIEND COZZENS, he of the " Sparrow-Grass Papers," and "Acadia," gives place in his paper to the Ballad "Love me Little, Love me Long," and thus editorially alludes to its meaning: "The meaning of the first part of the sentence : ' Love me little,' is expressed in the song : "Love that is too hot and strong, Burneth soon to waste." And , Love me long,' requires no explanation, or rather could not be explained to any who did not understand it."

Where we get "Fine Old Sherry."

From an article by the well-known traveller and scholar, H. P. LELAND, (in the last Wine Press,) we clip the following items from his graphia description of a visit to Xerea, "famous for that wine corruptly called Sherry." After describing the town and the botegas, or wine store-houses, and various other matters of interest, he says : "In 1857, from 'Spain on the Mediterranean,' only 74 dozen of sherry wine, in bottles, was imported to the United States; from 'Spain on the Atlantic,' three hundred and ninety-six dozen. The sherry from the Mediterranean was probably, for the most part, from Malaga, where the manufacture of sherry from Malaga wine is immense―thousands of hogsheads being annually sent to England. In the same year, in casks, 418,079 gallons were imported into the United States from Spain on the Atlantic, while from the Mediterranean ports of Spain we imported only 65,987 gallons of sherry and San Lucar wines. Total, 544,649 gullons, including importation of sherry from England; in fact, we import more sherry in bottles from England than from Spain, the amount in this year (1857) being 1,472 dozen; from Scotland, 49 dozen, and we even imported from Hamburg ( ! ) 260 dozen. From England in casks, same year, 36,705 gallons. . "Mellado, in his 'Guia, del viagero en España,' estimates the entire annual vintage of sherry wine at 40,500 arrobas, or 162,000 gallons! and we imported 544,649 gallons in 1857. Enough said."

Names of Days―Their Origin.

The days of the week derive their names from the idols which our Saxon ancestors worshipped: The Idol of the Sun.―This idol, which represented the glorious luminary of the day, was the chief object of their worship, It is described like the bust of a man, set upon a pillar, holding, with outstretched arms, a burning wheel before his breast. The first day of the week was especially dedicated to its adoration, which they termed the Sun`s Daeg; hence is derived the word SUNDAY.

The Idol of the Moon.―The next was the idol of the Moon, which they worshipped on the second day of the week, called by them Moon`s Daeg, and since, by us, MONDAY. The form of this idol is intended to represent a woman habited in a short coat, and a hoop, and two long ears. The moon which she holds in her hand designates the duality.

The Idol of Tuisco.―Tuisco was at first deified as the father and ruler of the Tuetonic race, but in course of time he was worshipped as the sun of the earth. From this came the Saxon words, Tuisco`s Daeg, which we call TUESDAY. He is represented standing on a pedestal, as an old and venerable sage, clothed m the skin of an animal, and holding a sceptre in the right hand.

The Idol Woden, or Odin.―Woden, or Odin, was one of the supreme divinity of the northern nations. This hero is supposed to have emigrated from the east, but from what country, or at what time, is not known. His exploits form the greatest part of the mythological creed of the northern nations, and his achievements are magnificent beyond all credibility. The name of the fourth day of the week, called by the Saxons Woden Daeg, and by us WEDNESDAY, is derived from this personage. Woden is represented in a bold attitude clad in armour, with a broad sword uplifted in his right hand.

The Idol Thor.―Thor, the eldest and bravest of the sons of Woden and Friga, was, after his parents, considered as the greatest god among the Saxons und Danes. To him the fifth day of the week, called by them Thor`s Daeg, and by us THURSDAY, was consecrated. Thor is represented as sitting on a throne, with a crown of gold on his head, adorned with a circle m front, wherein were set twelve bright burnished gold stars, and with a regal sceptre in his right hand.

The Idol Friga, or Frega.―Friga, or Frega, was the wife of Woden, or Odin, and next to him the most reverend divinity among the heathen Saxons, Danes, and other northern nations. In the most ancient times, Friga, or Frega, was the same with. the goddess Hertha, or Earth. To her the sixth day of the week was consecrated, which, .by the Saxons, was written Frega`s Daeg, correspondmg with our FRIDAY. Friga is represented with a drawn sword in her right hand and a bow in her left.

The Idol Seator.―The idol Seator is represented on a pedestal, whereon is placed a perch, on the sharp, prickled back of which he stood, his head uncovered and his visage lean. In his left hand he held up a wheel, and in his right hand was a pail of water, wherein were flowers and fruits, and his dress consisted of a long coat, gorted with linen. The application given to the day of his celebration is still retained. The Saxons named it Seator`s Daeg, which we call SATURDAY.

RELIGION OF THE AUTHOR OF ADAM BEDE.―A letter from England says: "Some. two months since I related to you the gossip which was then in circulation that Adam Bede was written by Wiliam and Mary Howitt, the Loamshire of the book being Nottinghamshire, and the Stoneyshire, Derbyshire. The author is regarded as the exponent in its best form of the modern school of realism in poetry, fiction and art. I may add that Miss Mary Evans is no Methodist, but as I think might have been surmised from the volume itself, a spiritual Unitarian, of the earnest and better modern school, of which school many would seem to be 'not far from the kingdom of heaven.' To much the same class, I suppose, must be referred the sentiments and sympathies of the ci-devant Quaker William Howitt an his wife."―Christian Advocate.

A FRENCH BREAKFAST―Two salt-cellars and a muffin.