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*ognsldrfwl as defeating the labors of his 1 pedlr *lWt«ii deplored the loss of sight, * as It shut from his survey the blessed ob jects 0/ creation—the sun, the skies, and 'Ae nobl? pictures upon which his daring imagination delighted to dwell ; and 1; tony wojl be oonceived, from what we know of his undivided ami single-eyed .spirit, that among his greatest griefs at the loss of his sight, was the conviction that his right hand had forever ‘lost its, cunning.’- The labors of the hand, with, ■>uch a laborer as Milton, were those, al- ! most only, which made his sight dear to , him. It was not sight only, therefore, j which he lost in that heavy dispensation j —it was one of \hc gtTms of his mighty genius. The difference between thepo-t etical temperament, and the poet, lias been illustrated by Byron, in a tine passage 1 from that noble rhapsody, tne Prophecy, i 6T Dante : Many arc poets who have never penned, Their inspiration, and perchance the best; They.!-.''t.andfailed,anddied.butwould nut lend Tiieir Thoughts to meaner beings : they com- SSk'9 pressed W|Pte trod v. ithin them, and rejoined their stars u l ,on earth.’ - * though fine, is only partial lylrttc. The cynicism—the snarlingpuic/t --awLoftbe noble satirist, blinded him to The silence of such as those be speaks—those silent minis ‘iiiwißlofC Apollo arose—not from any to. serve and to sing—not |»e -‘<sjjisc tStey despised their auditory, and noticed their thoughts to tueimer vl>«irtjgs*-^-foi > tuich is their very purpose ipjjK&JgUlCttuty' assigned them, by the Very endowment ; but sim ■ ■ atf hafattofotbev Jacked 1 ii* power. They OjraHp£B^hfl,.lVlutgs around the throne Oriental despot—able to rompre- <yhak is going on—to feel the pa s ions, audhurn with theirdeni.il, —but uu- K «tte to tell of what they know and feel, •. and even to complain of their privations. *Tlie God within them’ is dumb, not com pressed, by their mere will, into silence ; for this is impracticable. The fury can not he suppressed—it would speak— though like that of Byron himself it spoke only in scorq and hatred of all around them Like the speech of the Pythoness, when once filled with the mysterious va por, it cannot and will not be restrained or compressed by any ellort within the power, or the proprietor to make. Sheridan was more of an improvvisa torc than a poet ; and, by the way, it may be curious to observe, that nothing, yet lias come from iniprovvisatioh. The trag edies of Sgaicci. the most celebrated a mong his class, were never, we believe, put to paper by himself, and were com paratively of but little account when ta ken down bv others. As an Italian, and living in Italy, the probability is that Sheridan would have made a first rate ini provisatore. There, the inodes, of think ing in society would not have coupled the practice with reproach, as it would have done in England. 111 the one conn-j try, it is sanctioned and honored—in the ! other it would have been censured ; and, 1 with the people of the latter country, the 1 improvvisatore would have settled down,! as in the case of Sheridan, he did, into a good table companion, who, with area- | dy bonmot a lively./Y/t d’esprit, or an in- j voluntary catch of song, would have neu tralized the Minister’s dullness, or thej coarseness of the Prince. His conversa tion, by the universal testimony of his friends, was the very asscncc of improv visation in its most miscellaneous forms. His transitions, rapid as an arrow’s llight, were continual from ‘grave to gay, from lively to severe.’ In the circle of his ac quaintance, and indeed in general socie ty, his career was one of constant tri umphs, which he seemed to achieve with out effort, and which wore not unworthy of those higher performances, whether in the Idrum or upon the stage, upon which, as the memory, of the former disappears it: the progress of time, his celebrity must entirely depend Indeed, this ‘fa tal facility’ of society, may be regarded in some measure as the cause of his hav ing done so little which appear/ perma nent in character. Had he learned to ‘pen’ and not to speak his inspiration, he iria sicn a more solid thinker, a more careful poet —perhaps a more daring and '■ ennobling one—certainly, a more moral, and self*suptaining man. He learned to rely tod greatly on the fatal ease of im provisation, and at length became inca pable of labor. Tltere is no faculty so 1 dangerous to its possessor as that of con- • versation. It is too ant to be in favor with ail-sorts of society ; and society invaria blymakes it neglectful of its more legiti-i mate purposes. 'l'his faculty is doubly dangerous when it is associated with hap-' jnness of repartee, a humorous manner, and a brilliant form of expression, It >• was one of the greatest * mislortuues of’ Sheridan that he delighted in scenes, and sought or made an exhibition wherever it was possible. This disposition and desire grew upon him with his years ; and it is not too much to assert, that it was one of tire leading causes of those many em barrassments, —which are woes to be sen sitive spirit,—and which, collecting about the evening of his days, like clouds at the setting of the son. finally combined to crush and conqoer him. “Who goes there ?” said an Irish sen try of the British legion at St. Sebastian. “A friertd/’ was the prompt reply. “Then stm<f~wdiere you arc,” cried Pat, "for by . the powers, yoi’re the first I’ve met with ft in this mutheria’ country | From the Charlrslon Courier, 17th. inst. J THE STEAM PACKET HOME WRECK- I ED. LOSS OF SO OR HO LIVES. t The most intenSe anxiety existed in this city during the last two or three days, as to the fateof the steam packet HOME, which vessel left New York, on Saturday I vl-eek last, for this port, having a great number of passengers on board,* many of whom belonged to this city, among them a considerable proportion of ladies. Early yesterday morning the steam packet Georgia, Capt. Rollins, arrived here from Norfolk, R. repor ted having s#tm a steam boat close in shore, at Ocraoeck, which information cheered the minds of the desponding lriends of those w 110 were on hoard the ill-fated Ihrmr, (a list of passengers hav ing been previously posted up on our bul letin, copied from a New York pnpeT.) iOn the arrival of the Express Mail, a let- I tor was received dated Nebern from one ql the passeugsrs, of which a few lines could he made out, indicating the belief I that all the passengers were saved. This, I lor 4 short tune, lighted up the couute- I nances of our inhabitants with jov—con gratulations and expressions of heart-felt gratitude to the Almighty Disposer ofE veuts, came from every mouth—and a universal feeling of happiness and satisfac tion was apparent among tiie multitude who luul collected together to hear the glad tidings. But, melancholy to relate, the joy and gladness was but a lleeting shadow', that a breath dissipated in an instant. The letter was taken to those to whom it was directed, and unfolded a tale that chilled the heart and caused the blood to curdle in the veins. Hundreds of persons had collected before our office, and on com municating the sad and mournful intelli gence that the bout was beat to atoms, and TWO THIISDS OF AM. ON IIOARI) PKIIISII ki>, one univei al feeling of hoiror perva ded every mind—all were for a moment paralyzed by the shock. But an instant previously, and the hearts of all were el evated ami elastic with pleasure, from w hich they were suddenly precipitated to the very depths of grief and suffering. The letter which \vc insert below, en tire,leaves the anxious relatives and friends of the passengers still in intense and ex cruciating suspense—the fate of only three individuals is know. Os the re mainder no clue is given—w hether the survivors are passengers or crew, males or females, is entirely unknown, and may yet remain a mystery .for a day or two, 1 although it is to he hoped that authentic and detailed intelligence may be received 1 this day. The writer pf the letter is, we under stand, hut little acquainted in this city, ! which accounts lbr his not naming indi-j vidnalsto any extent. Amid the general gloom that prevails! at this afflicting event, it behooves us to he thankful that the result was not more disastrous. It was the opinion of many, and we confess that w e were atnpng the j number, that the boat, crew and passen-j gers, one and all, were ungulplied in the j bosom'of the ocean—that not a soul had i survived to tell the distresssing talc—but,! thinks to an over-ruling and all-wise Providence,the lives of a number have! been preserved—the mercy of God has been most strikingly evinced in rescuing' the parent and tlie child, a id we trust,! tile husband and the wile, the brother and the sister, from a watery grave, to glad den the hearts of their relatives and lriends. Captain Rollins expresses his belief! that the Steamboat ho saw at Ocracock, | was culler the Smith Carolina or New York, in the benevolent act of assisting! and taking off the survivors, if any re ni lined there at the time, and of course performing the sad duty of interring the i remains of any who may have been thrown on shore, ami had not yet received the, rites of burial. « We can say no more on the subject of this terrible disaster, it makes the heart, sick to reflect upon it. We await in pain ful anxiety further details. We give below the letter alluded to, I and a list of the passengers. Nhwiikhn, N. C. Oct. 12, 1537. j Messrs. TANARUS,. M. Wiley, Parish *Sj Cos.: Genti.emcn —On Saturday last, 1 left New York-in the steam packet Home, i for your city, with eighty or ninety pas- (till to 'Pi ladies) and a crew of 4->, in nil about one hundred and twenty to loft—the wind and weather line until Sunday night, when it commenced blow ing a gale, and continued. Monday af ternoon the steaincf commenced to leak —the gale very severe, all hands went to the pumps, but water, gained on us ; , when the man in command concluded to ’ run her ashore, and did so on Monday, night between ten and eleven o'clock, six i or seven miles from Ocracock light house, j and in about 20 minutes she had gone to pieces, and lost about ens or 1)0 drowned, and about 38 or 40 saved. Among the latter was Mr. Lovergreen and myself. Mr. L. was the only man saved with whom I was acquainted. The soonest 1 can reach your city will be Tuesday next, when I hope to reach there in safety. Please call on Mr. Lovergreeu’s family and say he was saved. Mr. 11. Tilleston, of Spofford, Haselline &. Cos. is lost. The mail being about to close, I must stop, short and subscribe myself, Yours most respectfully, H. VAiNDEitZEIi; We copy the following list of her pas BRUNSWICK ADVOCATE* sengers from the New York Commercial Advertiser of Monday last : Messrs CXU Cady, I Root, II Tileston, J Johnson, Jr, T Smith, James M Roll, T Anderson, James, Cohrs, Vandezer, J D Roland, W S Read, Capt Hill and la dy, \V Kennedy, C Drayton, Walker, Fuller, Cohen, Benedict, M Cohen, A Lovegreen, J Holmes, J Boyd, Palmer, H C Bangs, W Whiting, Rev G Cowle, B B Hussey and lady, C William, II B Croom and lady, Master Croom, Miss Croom,, Miss JVI Croom, II Anderson, Weld, O H Prince and servant, Clock, Mrs Cowles, Mrs Levy, Miss Levy, Miss A Levy, Mrs Camock,Mrs Whitney, Miss Steir, Miss Robert, Mrs Prince, Mrs Boyd, Mrs Flynn, Mrs Faugh, two Miss es Flynn, Mrs Mill er, Schroeder, Boudo, Riviere, Lacoste, Mr Desabye, lady and servants, M Desabye, Capt Salters, Prof, Nott and lady, C Qoinn, M Smith, Laro vue, Broquet, lady, child and servant, F Ddmmigiis, Labadie, Walton, Hazard, Lamthers, Finn. A Sc exit IN Court. —At the present term of the General Sessions, occurred a scene of no ordinary interest. Two brothers, one apparently twelve, and the other fourteen years of age, were indic ted lor grand larceny. Tiro property al ledged to have been stolen was two hor ses. The elder of the two boys was put upon trial, and his younger brother was sworn to testify against him. lie told his story with all the slimplicity of youth and innocence. «• It appeared from his testimony', that, , some months since their father, who was :in indigent circumstances, emigrated from Plymouth, Mass, to Chicago ; but j was unable to take them with him, hav ing previously bound them for a term of j years, to w ork in one of the factories in i that place. Their master, becoming i bankrupt, absconded, while they, depri- I veil of employment and of the means of | support, were defrauded of their wages. Under these circumstances, without mon ey, and almost destitute of clothing, they j turned their backs upon their former I borne, with the intention of seeking that jof their lather; with no other encour agement for the prosecution of their jour ; ttey, than the courage that animated their young hearts, and a paper, obtained from the frozen fountains of charity, recom mending them to the benevolence of those they should meet on their w ay. ’rims prepared for a journey of a thou sand miles, they set out, ignorant of the world, and of the country through which i they were to pass, in this manner they proceeded, begging their food, and some times, when Unable to procure more com- j sortable quarters, seeking in barns their ! rest at night. Passing through one of the j southern counties of this State, where the inhabitants themselves were short of pro-j visions, their story was discredited, and | urged by hunger and wearirtess.they took the horses, with the intention of retracing their steps, till they could procure a sup ply of provisions to continue their jour ney. These were the circumstances which placed them before the court.— There was no doubt of the taking of the horses. The prisoner’s counsel made a solemn and impressive appeal to the jury, insis ting that the horses were not taken with dishonest intentions; Nor was it the mock solemnity, of insincerity, for the fountains of feeling were then unsealed, and—to the honor of human nature be it said—the audible sobbings heard from the seat of prisoners, were answered with tears from tiie bar , the bench, and the ju ry box. The hoy was acquitted, and a noth: prosequi entered on the indictment against his brother. A purse was soon made up for them, and placed in the hands of a suitable individual, for the purpose of paying tiieir passage to Chic ago.—The barefooted boys left the Court House, with their countenances brighten ed with the smile of hope, and hearing with them the wishes of all present, that fortune may open a brighter page in their destiny. [Buffalo Advertiser. Sinovi.ar Tuurr wn Summary Ptitc isiimkkt. One of the most singular in- j stances of theft we over heard of,occurred j on review day. Among the staff-officers j on the field, there was one who was mown- j ted on a magnificent gray horse. Said horse had what was vulgarly called a tail: and a long sweeping, glorious tail it was too. One of the crowd, a sable son of Afrit", became quite enamored of said inl. He thought it contained capital hair for his fiddle bows, and forthwith com menced transferring detached portions of it to his pockets. Every time the horse brought his tail within reachable distance, Siio.vi; ill made a dash at- it, bringwg a~ way at each pull hand-foils of hair. Not! before the negro had tilled his pockets to j overflowing did the officer discover that his charger was fast becoming taib/css ; then—Mars! who can describe his rage! We shall not attempt the herculean task. Suffice it for us to say, that with the ut ! most gallantry but with desperate fury he did charge tipon Darkey ; that the flat side of his glittering sword came down like light on the adamantine pate and shoulders of the offender: —that the mob j rushed to the rescue—that the officer was ; forced to retreat —that finally the mob joined the officer and turned their arms upon the black, who retreated slowly j through acorn field,—followed by blows Sand vollies of green corn, and pumpkins. I This was altogether the roost remarkable and deadly ‘akrimmage’ that occurred on the famous 22d. [Greenfield Gazette. I THE ADVOCATE. BRUNSWICK, (Ga.> OCTOBER 2ff1837. The People’s Press and the Augusta Theatre. During the Summer we enjoyed a weekly treat of fun and laughter in the pe rusal of the Theatrical criticisms of the Au gusta Courier. One would really have sup posed that the most eminent actors trod the boards of Augusta, and many “a youth un known to fame,” lias been raised at once to the highest walks of Tragedy. With the re opening of the Theatre, the People’s Press has taken tip the v.rondrous tale, and a fresh batch of players arc now receiving the same praise in unlimited quantities. We will just remind our amiable friend, that honey is very poor stuff for a standing dish. People are soon sur feited. We are obliged to take him to task for his “swashing blow” at ‘Fazio.’ Os this Trag edy which ranks among the very first produc ed in our day, he thus speaks:— “Fazio was played on Wednesday night ; the higli expectations we had formed of this i tragedy were by no means realized. The j style and language are both good enough— I but the plot is heavy, and without that inter j est which is necessary to the entire success of | a Drama. But the acting in some measure j remedied this'defect— The idea, that “Fazio” is very poor and only saved from execration by the excellent acting of Mr. Forbes and his Company, is really amusing. The manager is very respectable in his profession, and a very estimable gentleman in private, but we cannot concede that the sal vation of Fazio is to be attributed either to his exertions or those of the lady who personated Bianca. We are inclined to attribute its fail ure to a cause not in the least connected with the author. Did the editor ever see Fanny Kemble, Miss Phillips, Migs Tree or Miss Clifton,in the character, and known it to go off heavily ? In making his future criticisms, we will just whisper in his ear, that Forrest, Booth, Van derlioff, Macready and \Vallack, still wear the buskin; an l whatever may be the excel lence of the Augusta Company, it will be no injustice to place them no iiighcr, than on an equality with the masters of the art. The same p aper contains also, the opening Address, written and delivered by Mr. Iveppel. To give our readrs a taste ot its quality, we in sert a few lines. But all who read must he] careful or they may stumble, as the verse is ’ none of the smoothest If Mr. Iveppel was per mitted to deliver such a poetic effusion, lie must possess powers of a high order—it would puzzle a common reader to pronounce it ‘trip pingly.’ ;‘VV hen first our Fathers peopled this vast Land, And Industry was joined by Heaven's hand, ’ljic soil propitious, to make mankind great. While Strangers in fair Climes repined at Fate, Where Kings held sway and rule was awed by power— There dawned upon the shores, in one fair hour, A Name— which since—the World lias learned to bless.— A name, which Europe’s potentates confess, As Soldier, Sage, as Statesman, Friend,as Man Combined—remains unequalled since the Sun Began his course—him gone—Great Wasing ton !” The gentleman may bo, and undoubtedly is. | a very clever actor—he is certainly a most i abominable poet—or we ought to say no poet 1 at all, and he will best study his own interest! and the public pleasure by giving up the Mas es and sticking to Thalia. Editors dislike to reject communications, and from an aversion to say ‘No,’ the public ;ue crammed with whit I’ope calls “ductile dull-' ness. This is a nuisance which ought to be abated—such stuff is not worth the labor of printing, much less of reading. We took up the other day a Columbus p iper, which had a column of what we learned by the heading was intended for poetry, from three lovesick swains to their ‘Dulcinas.’ Now it may be very agree able for the writers to pass for poets, but then the poor editor, no doubt, was ready to say, “what is sport to you is death to us.”— The better way is to put such stuff in the fire place, and say nothing about it. Biography of Sheridan. On the first page is an interesting article on the character of this distinguished man. We cannot, how ever, agree with the writer in his stricutures on biographical writing. What would we not. all give for a life of Shakspcare, which should re veal to us the every-day history of the Wool Comber's son. Who would not accompany him on his stolen deer hunts, or follow him in his wanderings, as a strolling player. How would we laugh at his odd conceits, or melt at his touching pathos, llow would ue love to trace his various characters to their originals, and watch the process of his mind, as from the rough materials around him, he fashioned those fairy fabrics that are the wonder and delight of the world. It is the fashion to abuse Boswell’s life of Johnson, and yet whoever regrets having read it That it has faults cannot be denied, but notwithstanding these, it is an agreeable book —and its annihilation would be a misfortune. The life of Walter Scott now in progress of publication by Lockhart is a great addition to’ the literature of the day, as is the life of every great man. The fault is not with the class jof writing, but with some particular books.— Moore's Life of Sheridan,- is one of the most interesting works of the class, and we cannot gee the injury it is calculated to inflict. It por- trays the character of one of the most brilliant of that constellation,wiiich glittered in the reign ot the third George. It brings into bold re lief the virtues and talents, and touches with the hand of a friend the vices and foibles of this great man. It is the story of genius unre strained by religious principle and presents a warning of the most serious nature. The man whose eloquence carried away the Senate, died a beggar; and he whose wit convulsed the Theatres, owed a burial to his friends.— His story is a sad commentary on the max im that intellect of the highest order is worse than useless without virtue. Tex as. In compliance with the call of the House of Representatives, the correspondence in regard to the admission of Texas into the Union, has been published. It consists of a letter from Gen. Hunt to Mr. Forsyth, the re ply from the Secretary and a rejoinder from the Minister. Mr. Forsyth declines discussing the consti tutionality of the project, and says that the War between Texas and Mexico is of itself an inseparable objection to the formation of any Treaty of the kind. But hopes that Texas | will not be induced from this rejection, to form | treaties with other nations, prejudicial to the j interests of this country. At a proper time, and in a constitutional manner, the annexation I of this Territory may be good |>olicy, hut under existing circumstances, such a move would he a departure from the course we have always pursued in reference to the affairs of Foreign Nations, and might lead us into unnecessary collision with Powers, w'ith whom we are now at peace. “What sparts hive you in the forest?” As the Autumn advances, the pi antes of the County who have been- spending their Summer at the Wayne Springs, are preparing to return to their plantations, and in a few and lys their cottages will be deserted. Previous how ever to the separation, “the Club” last week gave a ball, which for brilliancy, eclipsed all the parties of the season. The piazzas of the Club house were enclosed by canvass awnings, which enlarged very much the space for danc ing, and changed entirely the appearance of the room; and to the usual number of ladies were added the choicest flowers of Mclntosh. We doubt whether in any part of the country in so small a party, so many elegant women can be found as grace# the parting ball of the Wayne Club. The remainder of the week was passed in a succession of dinner and dancing parties, which terminated on Saturday, with the last dinner of the Club for the season. We are sorely tempted to write an essay on Southern manners,but the fear of being thought to flatter, prevents our enjoying the pleasure at present. We can at least say that as individu als from the North and South, mingle together, the sectional prejudices and jealousies disap pear, and the favorable points of character on ly are brought into view. For one, wander where we may, we shall never fail to do justice to the hospitality and chivalry of the South, nor shall we ever forget the courtesy and kindness, we have experienced at the hands of Southern families. To the Editor of the Brunswick Mvocute: In your paper of the 12th inst. ‘Public Rights’ has addressed some remarks to you and has in his P. S. taken a “passing notice of Brunswick,” &c. &c. Now, Sir, to convince those who are not willing to be convinced, I will take the liberty, —as I have the permission of the gentleman in whose possession it now is—to give a few extracts from this legal opinion, of which we have heard so much and seen so little. After stating the law upon the subject—all of which, that has any bearing upon this ques tion, is given by “Brunswick” in his former communication —the opinion contains the fol low ing:— | “Still these commons, except so far as they have hern legally disposal of, must be considered to subsist for the purpose for which they were originally designed, that is, for the benefit and b n _ convenience of the citizens of Brunswick.” “We do not think that the Trustees of the Academy have any title to the specific lands ; known as commons of Brunswick. An author ity was given to sell and appropriate the pro ceeds to Academic purposes, but this did not vest a title to the land itself in the Commis sioners or Trustees of the Academy.” “The claim of the Commissioners of the Commons was a bare authority,” &c.—that is, they were merely the agents of the Legislature and had no title to the land which they were directed to rent, &c. Can any candiiLperson read “Brunswick,” and say the opinions therein contained differ from the above ? “Brunswick” says explicitly, that, the per son, to whom the State first sold or granted these lands, has the only good title, &c. It is well known that all the lands owned by the State in Glyqn, are vacant lands and liable to be run by any one and that, after the grant is obtained, tiie grantee has a legal title and that, the State has legally disposed of the lands thus granted. It cannot be denied that the State owned these commons—the State lias granted them to Mr. King—they have, therefore, been “fe gaV.y disposed of 1” That part of their opinion, quoted by “Public Rights,” in which, it is said that the grants to Mr. King and others are in valid, was based, as I understand it, upon the proposition that these commons had not be® legally disposed 0/ by the State—this ' tion being erroneous the opinion cannot 1 sustained. ‘Public Rights’in answer to “Brunswick* assertion that the commons were vacant says—“l have the consolation, however holding the same opinions with the couiis. |, the Trustees,” &c. I must beg leave to diffi with ‘Public Rights’ on this point I j,J road Uie opinion very attentively, and I ( la J not been ante to find that part of it where t a , counsel say these commons were not vqr nn [I The counsel -do say that so far as these com.ll 1110ns have not been legally disposed of ‘ must be considered to subsist, &c. a provi*T which‘Public Rights’ seems wholly to have! overlooked. I do not deem it necessary to say anything! more in refutation of the arguments of ‘Public ■ Rights,’ it must be plain to every one thy Brunswick is right, if there be any truth in law. It it quite impossible to say what position ‘Public Rights’ will next take—first we were told that these commons belonged to the Acad emy—they were then claimed for the people of Glynn—now a claim is set up for the town In his first communication ‘Public censures Mr. King for not having secured these commons to the Academy, &c. &c. Be fore Mr. King obtained the Act of 1835, di recting the sale of three hundred acres of these commons, he consulted some of the first and best lawyers in Georgia, and their opin ion was, that they were vacant land and sub ject to be run by any one. After obtaining this information, did Mr. King run these lands for his own benefit, as he might have done Certainly not —he obtained a law' to have 300 acres sold and the proceeds applied to Aca demic purposes—the sales amounted to more than fifteen thousand dollars, all of which, Mr. King might have put into his own pocket, by 1 unning the land himself. Although Mr. Kin" knew that the remainder of the commons land, about 800 acres, was vacant, he made no at tempt to run it until 1837, when he found it necessary to secure this land to promote the interests of Brunswick, and for this purpose only he intends tause it If this course of con duct deserves censure Mr. King must bear it. Why should this land have been given ex clusively to the Academy and the interests of the town wholly neglected ? “Brunswick” is under many obligations to Mr. “Public Rights” for the witty remarks in his P. S. “Public Rights” certainly has tiie right to select the kind of game he prefers.— “Brunswick” can, however, assure him that lie has no fear of his fire. A defeated opponent ought to have the privilege of indulging in a little ill-humor, therefore ‘Brunswick’ will only laugh at “Public Rights” for having done so. BRUNSWICK. [For the Brunswick Advocate.] THE DEER HUNT. That most interesting of all sports—the Deer Hunt—is much fallowed up in parts of this County, and is nowhere more fully enjoy ed. From the innumerable successful hunts which I have witnessed, I will select the fol lowing, which occurred in the latter part of July. By arrangement, I met —, (a first rate shot and ardent sportsman) on the margin of a dense swamp which bordered a cultivated field of cotton into which several old bucks were known to extend their nocturnal ivalks. We met at the first streak of day, having left our abodes an hour before, and on the way had much trouble in keeping our eager hounds from breaking off upon occasional trails left by wandering game. The morning was perfectly clear, and, at that early hour, the air was pure and bracing, and seemed to impart freshness and buoyancy to our hounds and hunters, ns to ourselves.— Stillness reigned over the extensive pine barrens, and over the swamps and bays, hung motionless the long cold veils of mist, adding to the repose of surrounding nature: and the only_sounds which broke uponjjiis death-like calm, was the occasional pensive note of the whip-po-wil, or the clear long drawn whoop of the great owl, as he sat upon his still-dark perch in the depth of the swamp. Having given directions to our Driver, we separated,—taking opposite sides of the swamp, and moving a considerable distance, in time to intercept the game which we knew would be on foot at first sound of dog or Driver. Our pack consisted of eight, as fine and eager as ever scented bush or track; and the names of w hich wdl come in as they occurred in the chase. Reaching a stand, I gave an attentive ear to the far-distant and cheering Whistle of the Driver, and eagerly awaited the first sig nal. In a short time, that signal was given by a faithful tongue. Old Ranger sent forth one long,knowing howl—well known to the crouch ing game far and near. Again, and again, at brief intervals, that grateful sound awakened the echoes and caused my hunter to prick up his ears with accustomed delight Old Ranger is now back’d by Gipscy with her shrill whine, while Hornpipe adds his deep drawling bass tongue. The notes become more frequent, and are answered occasionally byOwrr, Min uet and Rally. The cold trail is led slow and sure: gradually, it becomes more hot, and the "opening more confused and enlivened as f'leta "Opening—giving tongue. [Terms which are herein expressed, are entirely local, an are used throughout.]