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Lines Suggested by hearing a Sermon preached by Father A . • Jiyan, the Poet Print of the South. BY E. E. B. I. It matters not how plain the face, If but the soul be beautiful, Outbeaming with a kindly grace, And ever meek and dutiful. It matters not how plain the dress, If there’s a noble soul within; God ne’er regards the wearer less, If but the heart be free from sim 11. It matters not how low the cot, If dear ones cluster ’round the hearth; Though dark and stern the poor man’s lot, Love makes a Paradise of earth. If true contentment nestles there With guileless joy and honest worth, His treasure is more brightly fair Thau all the glittering gems of earth. in. Though Mammon’s slave may paes his home With curling lip and scornful eye, ’Twill matter not, when Christ shall come, To gather jewels for the sky; For then the “ mite,” if freely given— Or “ cup of water,” in His name, Will weigh more, in the scales of Heaven, Than all Pride’s haughty altars’ flame. IV. It matters not, though men may scorn— Oh! ye who labor for the right, Who catch, through vistas dimly seen, Faint gleams of the miilenial light; And ever “ Is it come ?” ye say, As grey mists sweep the eastern sky; Toil bravely on, for, lo! the dawn— The morning, cometh by-and-by. V. N It matters not—this bjtter toil— The heavy cross—the weary sigh— If rest shall crown the wftd turmoil, And joy, the grief in yonder sky; If crosses shall be beautified, If Love directs the chastening rod,' It Heaven awaits us o’er the tide, 'Tis well to live and trust in God. iv. Thou, too, oh! glorious Poet-Priest, Who seekest, less for human fame Than to outspeak the holy thoughts Inwritten with a holy flame— -0! boldly speak, yet lovingly, Till men shall learn to love each other, And hands clasp firm and tenderly, And hearts thrill at the name of ‘ ‘Brother! ’ ’ For the Banner of the South. The Carrier Dove. [concluded,] ACT 111. {Scene in a robber's cave in the Pyr enees.) Anselm—How is this ? you are asleep, robbers. Let me see your eyes brighten up, when I tell you the news; our Land lord ishupting to-day on the mountain. Thou shalt, ere long, hear the blast of his horn—the bark of his dogs. Bonilfet—Our Landlord is too perse vering. His hunts are dispersing our cattle, and turning them away from their quiet pastures. Condotti—What shall we do to put a stop to his hunts ? Come, let us devise some plan. Anselm—Come, let us seize him* He will pass this way on his long tramp ; for Landlord and Tenant—our feet are our horses. (Rinaldo and Armand are there, behind a rock. Rinaldo moves farther off and seats himself as if resting. Ar mand returns to his mother and sis ter.) Biuno—Comrades, we know that our depredations have not been alone for plun der’s sake, but for revenge, also. We hate tiie Lowlanders. We are armed for our honor, as well as our purses. Condotti—Our honoris in a disreputa blc state, as long as we have no leader. Come, let us seize our lord, and com pel him to lead us to victory. Then we can make the firebrand and the sword conquer tyranny. * Anselm—Let it be so, my comrades. The world shall then know that the fol lowers of Lord DeLaigle will brave the tempest, and defy the storm. Hut, come! what is the source of our discontent ? Are we not happy in our mountain homes ? Can aught trouble us here ? Bonilfet—Yes; their mean spite troubles us. Can we go into the Valley towns as honest men, without hearing their scorn ? Can we go to get a pound of sweetening, or a grain of Indian ber ry»to make a beverage for our sick wo men, that they do not tax our purses to the last extent of endurance ? Anselm—This is so, comrades. They tax heavily when we buy, and give us l.ttle patronage for what we sell. You, Hruffo, go and reconnoitre the hunt. In the meantime, we will rest here, for the coming storm will blow firerclv and tliey will find it hard work to stem its blast. ( fix# Bruffo, around the rocks. When he gets above the cave, he sees llinaldo silting on a rock, looking over the 1 alley.) Linaldu—Well, Bruffo; where are you from, that way ? Did you come over the chasm ? Bruflfo—(Lifting his hat.) Yes, sire. Rimildo—l have wound far up the mountain’s side, and descended here, to find the chamois and the fallow deer, and, after all my trouble, see nothing-. Bruffo—l can conduct you to their haunts, sire, and show you where they se clude themselves from the eyes of man. ItinaMo—Go—l follow, arid will re pay your trouble, by a broad piece of gold. (Rinaldo and Brvffo at the entrance of the cave.) Rinaldo—How, what is this, man ? I see no chamois here and no deer. Bruffo—Advance a little further in, my lord, and you will see them lying close. (They enter the cave.) There are the chamois and the deer, my lord ; they await your coming. Binaldo—Await my coming? How can that be possible? Anselm! Oondot ti! Boniffet! How is this ? Armed, and in this secret place! Are yon going on an expedition of great trust ? Anselm—Yes, my lord ; one that re quires secresy and promptitude, both. Binaldo—What is the object ? Anselm—Plunder and revenge! Binaldo—Plunder and revenge! No ble impulses of freemen! You are proud to be so blessed, truly. ( With scorn.) Anselm—We have suffered enough from the Valleys, to make them feel our strength. Rinaldo—l am astonished at your pos sessing such sentiments. I have always looked upon you as contented tenants. Anselm—Content, my lord, is a stream that runs between flowery banks, and not down precipices. Rinaldo—No, Anselm ; it is a stream that is ever the same; bright, sparkling, and imparting joy to the soul, whether it runs between flowery banks, or dashes over the towering rock. Anselm—Well, we are not content without it, and will bear it no longer. We are heavily taxed, while others reap the fruits of it ; we dress in skins, while others wear soft clothing ; we eke out our subsistence here, while others live in luxury at our expense. Rinaldo—Take care that, in blaming others, you do not ca.T contempt upon yourselves. Anselm—We eare not about that; ,we are tired of revenge alone ; we wish to show ourselves honorable, and get equal rights. The Count I)e la Farge shall rue the day he dared to make such de mands as he does, from the pockets of mountaineers. llinaldo—The Count He la Farge ? Anselm—Yes, the Count He la Farge. He is one of the law-givers; and he is the one who passes sentence upon every man he can lay his hands on. Binaldo—Count He la Farge is a no ble gentleman; and his sentences are just, when dealt to robbers. Anselm—Lord HeLaigle, you shall either be our leader or our hostage. The one, to proclaim our rights, or, the first one to suffer, if those rights are disre garded. Rinaldo—The Count He la Farge is my brother, and you know it. Anselm—We'know that he is your bosom friend ; but he has forgotten that he owes to us his present power. Rinaldo—How so? Anselm —Has he not been at Heath’s door in our midst; and did we not nour ish him, in our mountain homes, to life again ? Hid he not get his noble wife from one of our mountain chiefs ? and why should he be so bitter against us ? We know that he is your bosom friend ; and, therefore, w T e are determined to take you with us. Rinaldo—This is really a bold step. Will you take me without my consent or approbation ? will away at once from your secret conclave—Farewell. {He turns to retrace his steps, and is met by armed men.) Anselm—You will find the Pass guarded at every step, my lord ; a thou sand bayonets are ready to spring up around you. Rinaldo—l see you have guarded the Pass well ; what do you require of me ? Anselm—To be our leader—to de mand that our taxes shall be lessened— to threaten vengeance if they are not; or, we will destroy your castles, and obliterate your names. Rinaldo—Oh revenge ! oh lust ! To what end thou bringest men ! Anselm—Even so ; necessity has no law in this case. We have no name but the poor mountaineer! You have posses sions here, my lord; we are your ten ants, {raising his hat,) hut, in this in stance, we command you. Rinaldo—To attack myself! To head a party of insurgents,. against my best and dearest friend ! Anselm—Yes, and to demand from him justice, and equal rights for ourselves 1 and our children. -Mllll ©f lli^©?ror/ {Scene changes 1o the Castle — Amile, Estelle, and Arm and, prepared for a tvalking.) Armand—One moment, “ mi ditlce Madre f let me depict to you our terri rible situation. We place ourselves in the hands of miscreants, demanding our lives, or— Amile—What are our lives worth, while Rinaldo is in bondage? Armand—You are right—but, Attala, who is dearer to me than my own life Piiv the anguish of your son, "mi dulce Madre!” Amile—lnspiration touches me with her wand, and we will be guided by her influence. Estelle, bring the Dove ; we will place a note under her wing, and send her to them. Then we will do our duty and trust in God and the Blessed Virgin. Estelle—Blessed inspiration of Attala! Oh l, mi dulce MadreV ’ surely the Blessed Virgin directed her to give me that sweet Dove. Armand—Yes, and it lessens some what the misery of my heart. Bring the Dove, "mi dulce Hermanof and let us send it, before we go, to our devoted a Padre Estelle—Here it is, “mi querida Her mano.” "Mi dulce Paloma,” you must bear our message safely to your mistress. Delay not; nor rest your gentle wings until you arrive. Amile—Write the note, Armand; and let us send it quickly, that we may fly too, on wings of love, to our cave in the mountain. Armand—l have written: “My father is taken prisoner by the robbers, who have armed themselves as insurgents. They are going to take him with them, as they say, to demand justice at your hands. My mother insists upon our all going to him. We trust in God. Armand.” Estelle—Now, we will tie it under her wing. "Mi dulce Hermano,” throw her, yourself, from the window. The Blessed Virgin protect your flight, "mi dulce!” Armand—She rises up above the trees, and flies in the direction of the Castle. May the Blessed Virgin guide her gentle wings to Attala’s loving arms ! "Mi que rida Madre, wc are -ready, now, to do your bidding. Estelle— "Mi dulce Madre,” come: we are ready. (They go and the curtain falls.) ACT IV. {The Castle of Giuseppe—Seated at a table is Thcodotett.e and Attala. Attala— “Mi il lad.ref to whom are we to look for help in this approaching storm? Theodorette—To God, and those who are faithful in the surrounding country. I suppose our dearest friends have de serted us. Attala—We will see, “ my dulce Madref that they are faithful still. They are, no doubt, pressed into the ser vice, against their wills. Theodorette—That seems not possible to me, “mi dulce"; and the worst is, the uncertainty cannot be dispelled till the rumor becomes reality. Attala—l hear the fluttering of wings, {looking around)', surely, there is a bird at the window. ( She opens the shutter of the tcmdoiv, and a Dove flies to her , and nestles upon her bosom.) “Oh! dulce Mad re , queridaf my l)ovc has come back, and i know she bears a mes sage for us. Theodorette—Then, examine quickly, “mi dulcef that we may have the assur ance that our friends are true. Attala— [reads) ‘My father is taken prisoner by the robbers, who have armed as insurgents. They are going to take him with them, as they say, to demand justice at your hands. My mother insists on our all going to him. We trust in God. Armand ” {Enter Giuseppe, very much excited ) Giuseppe—ls it possible that Rinaldo could have hud intimation of this rising among the Mountaineers? Could that have been the real cause of his constraint with me, on the subject of his departure ? Theodorette—No; I will answer for them all. They knew nothing of it. Giuseppe—And Armand, could he be so false to me, while professing the warmest love for Attala ? Attala—Never, mi Padre , never ; be lieve not the suspicion of your heart. Sooner believe that the brook would rim up the hillside, rather than believe mond fasle, Giuseppe—How prove the certainty, either way ? Theodorette—See you not the Heaven ly messenger resting upon Attala’s bosom ? And here is your dispatch. {Giuseppe reads.) Guiseppe—Heavenly messenger, in deed ! This soothes me into a sweet, calm trust. God defend us, as he has guided our children. {Enter the Steward.) Steward Men are below, awaiting your orders, my Lord Count. Giuseppe Tell them to remain there, nor stir, till I come down. I will see if they are men leagued with others, or not. [Exit Steward. Giuseppe—Come, my gentle Dove, to my arms; for one little moment, let me press thee to my heart. Attala, darling, you were guided by the Blessed Virgin’ to do this sweet service to thy family. Whatever else betide, we will trust her as our guide. Now, l go to the men, who will, no doubt, enlist in our cause. Re main in this room, and lock your doors. {Curtainfalls.) ACT V. — Scene I. (Much Commotion--running in and out, and crossing to and fro, on the stage, of wild-looking Mountaineers ) Anselm Where to, you Plebians ? Restrain your curiosity, and your love of pelf. I "warn you, now ; not one thing must be touched. Remember, we come for our children’s sake, as well as our own. We will go from here to the Coun cil Chamber, where Count De la Farge and Lord De Laigle are consulting to gether. They are both our prisoners; remember that, also; and we will only let them off with a heavy ransom. Scene 11. (Council Chamber. ) (Count De la Farge, Theodorette, and Attala, Lord De Laigle, Amile , Es telle, and Ann and. Giuseppe, ( angrily ) —Twill not treat with such men. Rinaldo—Why will you not, Giuseppe? They are ruffians, excited to the highest pitch. I entreat you to give them some showing, of what they call justice. Giuseppe—What is it they want ? Rinaldo—They say they are too heavily taxed ; that they, in their poverty, pay for the luxuries of the nobles. Giuseppe—You ought to know if that is so ; you arc yourself a nobleman. Rinaldo—Apart from their ideas, their presence here in your Castle shows the necessity for prompt action. I will, my self, make a deposit, in their behalf, of 20,000 doubloons. Tell them you will lessen their taxes that much, and it will, I believe, satisfy them. Giuseppe—You are right, and I am wrong, Rinaldo. Bid them come; they are plunderers, not patriots. {Rinaldo and the Robbers enter , as the Ladies arc retiring.) Anselm—Stop; let no one leave this room, till wo hear the decision. The Castle is filled, both moat and tower; and we command, my Lord Count. What do you propose ? Giuseppe—l propose to lessen the taxes upon your province 20,000 doub loons. Anselm—Not so; make it 40,000 doubloons, or we will not leave any one here alive to tell the tale of our rising. Rinaldo—How now ? Hid you not tell me it I could get that much reduction of your taxes, you would be willing to return ? Giuseppe—Do you know that your own Lord, frem his private purse, has given this money to relieve you from your present position ? Anselm—What! our Lord HeLaigle, from bis private purse, bestow this upon us ? Then, you shall bestow double, nay, treble that sum. Giuseppe—You would have to destroy us, instead, then ; fori have it not. Rinaldo—What is it you require ? In the name of yoftr Province, speak, An selm. Anselm—We require 100,000 doub loons, if one cent. Now, choose between that and complete destruction. {llinaldo writes an order , and hands it to Anselm.) Rinaldo—Now go, and, in as short a time as* possible, let order and quiet be restored to the Castle. {Bobbers touch their hats , and leave in confusion. Giuseppe—Rinaldo, you have our eter nal gratitude for this noble act. The debt— Rinaldo—There is no debt, Giuseppe, but one of thanks to the Blessed Patroness of our wives and children. The Countess “mi chiqmta Amile!" <\id wisely to an ticipate our difficulties by their prayers. {Armand, leading to them Attala , they kneel at their feet Theodorette, Amite , and Estelle , stand near them) Rinaldo—May the Virgin Mary bless you, my Attala and my Armand. Armand—Count He la Farge, I have come, now, to claim my true prize If I delayed one moment, I sent my messen ger. Giuseppe—Armand, my full heart can scarcely find language to speak. Take the prize, and keep the ring also; and may God bless and protect you both, my chil dren ? Where is the Hove, Attala ? Attala—She has flown away to the bosom ofE>tclle, “mi Padre /” See how plaintively she looks towards us ! Estelle —Oh! it pants, it dies. You have fulfilled your blessed mission, “mi dulce Paloma !" {Curtain falls,) [communicated.] DEATH OF THOS. PINCKNEY ALSTON. St. Louis, 12th Nov., 1868. Editor Bannei' of the South : Dear Sir —Euelosed I beg to hand you an obituary notice taken from one of our leading papers, the purport of which will bring sorrow to many hearts in your charming city. W —. * £ r om the St Louis Republican, Nov. 12th, 1868.] at the residence of D. Robert Barclay, Eeq., in tnxsmy.on Saturday, November 7tli, 1868, of typhoid P*ipful i^ncss of three weeks, THOMAS E I^ G . KNEY ALSTON, eldest son of J. Motte and Mary TUzsunmons Alston, of Columbia, South Carolina. m.uVo i V* 8 born near Augusta, Ga., April 30, death and W&S m hlB twentieth year at the time of his , a flattering examination, and been admitted to the bar of the Circuit Court of St. Louis County, and was, in every respect, one of the most promising oftne junior members of the profes sion in this city. His tamilv is among the oldest in South Carolina, and ot the noblest in its alliances and affiliations ; possessing, at the beginning of the war what, in that State, was of more value than wealth’ high character and respectability. From it he ini herited that innate grace and manly bearing which education so often fails to hup ;rt to Nature's other wise abundantly gifted. After completing his academic course at the Uni versity of Virginia, he studied law under the guidance ot the late Judge Starnes, of Georgia, and Hon, Hersebel V. Johnson, of that State, and came, in July last, to St. Louis, to commence his career iu the honor able profession which his taste, his talent, and his in clination, led him to adopt. In this city his modest and manly demeanor soon won him friends. He en tered the office of Messrs. Voorhees k Mason, and was rapidly making his way, when he was attacked with the illness that resulted in his death. Falling sick at his lodgings, he was taken to the home of friends, who knew and appreciated his worth of character, where he was tenderly nursed, and received every at tention that kindness could suggest. The amiable ; manliness of Mr. Alston had won on all who knew him. His examination, for admission to the bar, had elicited the flattering comment of the learned Judge who gave him his license; and his learning, not alone in the course of his profession, but in classic and general literature, claimed the admiration of all who met him. For the week previous to his death, his bereaved father, summoned on the first apprehension ; of a fatal termination of his illness, had been with him : »nd watched over him in the alternations of hope and ; fear. The Rev. Ed. F. Berkeley, D. D., Rector of St. George’s Church, administered to him the consola tions of religion and prepared his mind for death. The death of no stranger has, iu our city, so affected the minds of those who were about him. A profound sensation of admiration and esteem for the deceased, and of sympathy for the broken-hearted father, was evidenced in the attendance of a large number of friends, on the occasion of the funeral service, read by Dr. Berkeley, on the Btli inst., preparatory to taking his body to South Carolina for burial. His remaius were accompanied by the pall-hearers, composed of his student friends and members of the Bar, t<* East St. Louis. There are many sad hearts here that beat with tender sympathy for the afflicted father and grief stricken sisters. Almighty God, alone, can reconcile them tojlis inscrutable ways, and to His boundless mercy and goodness they are commended. THE LOST CAUSE. Southern War Poetry. —Mi ss Sallie A. Brock, of Virginia, has gathered into a volume, the War Poetry of the South; a very choice collection, it is said, of the best poems, called forth by the late struggle. The New York Freeman's Journal , in writing of it, says : “ We have to postpone hook notices, this week, for lack of space. But we cannot forego a brief notice of this ele gant volume, compiled and edited by our friend, Miss Sallie A. Brock* of Virginia. It is the completest, and best selection of poetry called forth by the struggle of the Southern States, to achieve their In dependence. That contest having ended in disaster, its history as part of the annals of a common country. Hereafter, when the passions of the hour have passed away, the calm heroism of Albert Sidney Johnson, the impetuous chivalry of Patrick Cleburne, the lustre of the peerless “Stonewall” Jackson, Will be cherished as trophies of Ameri can glory. The story, at present, is best told in verses. These have been gathered up, and sifted, in this volume, by one of the daughters of old Virginia, who, her self, saw, and suffered in the conflict. A fuller notice of the volume will appear hereafter. We cannot help noticing, however, that Miss Brock has had the nice appreciation to give the first, and the closing place, in her collection to the “cypress-crowned poet of the South”— the author of the “ Conquered Banner,' ’ Rev. A. J. Ryan. His “Sentinel Songs’’ fitly heralds a volume of such poems, and songs. His “Land of Memories,” is its fitting finale. The frontispiece is illus trated by an elegant design ot Mr. McNcviii, in his peculiar and touching style. Responsible Agents arc desired by the publishers for this volume, its price, for the volume, of some six hundred and fifty octavo pages, on excellent paper, and cloth bound, is four dollar:-. In a recent- number of the Louisville Courier, we find the following: General Basil W. Duke's numerous friends' will he pleased to learn that he has determined to practice his profession the Law—in Louisville, and, for that purpose, has associated with himself, Ma jor A. E. Richards, of Virginia. In 1861, the General left a lucrative practice in St. Louis, for the purpose of partici pating in the struggle tor Southern In dependence. Since the war, he has been known as the author of the “ History of Morgan’s Command”—a book that has found a home in almost every Kentucky Library. Major Richards served with Colonel Mosbv’s “ Partizan Rangers,” being twice promoted for “skill and gal lantry displayed in action:” and, since the war, he has quietly devoted himself to the pursuit of the Law. We take pleasure in calling attention,to their card, which can be found in our business directory, and hope they will receive a liberal patronage from our citizens. 3