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SOUTHERN LITERARY GAZETTE: I * •* * A WEEKLY JOURNAL OF LITERATURE, SCIENCE AND ART, WM. €• RICHARDS, Editor. Original JJoetrg. For the Southern Literary Gazette. A MEMORIAL * BY LEILA CAMERON. -he hath fought the last fight and the victory won, Her journey is ended—her pilgrimage done, From life’s toil, her worn spirit has gained its re lease. And her tempest tossed soul is forever at peace. A shadow has shrouded our hearts with its gloom, For one, fondly loved, has gone down to the tomb ; Hut we mingle our grief, with thanksgiving the while, For a Christian has passed from our sight with a smile! She hath gone to her rest!—bear her gently away, Look your last, weeping friends, on the pale silent clay! — Let her sleep where the sunlight may fall on her tomb, ’Round her grave, let bright flowers exhale their perfume, For they speak to our hearts, with the accents of love, And they hopefully whisper of mansions above, — Where her spirit, is reaping, its glorious reward, — And her soul, has found rest, in the bosom of God ! She hath gono to her rest! and we may not regret, That her sun in the evening all calmly hath set, Full long had she lingered a pilgrim below, Full long had she waited, her summons to go;— And now, though on earth, we shall see her no more, We that her sorrows forever are o’er, And we joy—e’en in grief—that to her it is given, To join the bright throng, of the blessed in heaven! On her calm, placid brow, our last kisses we've prest And we lay her all gently away to her rest, While nur tears falling fast, o’er her last narrow home, Tell the love we have borne to the spirit that’s flown, The heart, which in age, was undimmed in its glow, Now slumbers unheeding, our love, or our woe; And the form, which in life, was so stately and firm, In the dust now lies low, with the shroud and the worm! Hut we know that she trusted in Him who can save, The tried souls, he has ransomed from Death and the Grave; And while sadly wo mingle our*tears for her loss, We will bow ’neath His rod, and still worship the cross, With the faith which through life, was her comfort and stay, We mournfully, tenderly lay her away — Till the summons shall come, which will bid her arise To meet her Redeemer, ivith joy in the skies ! *Ofa beloved relative who died recently in New York, it the age of seventy-three years. For the Southern Literary Gazette. HOPE. FROM THE GERMAN OF SCHILLER. BY JACQUES JOURNOT. I. flow many often speak and dr* am, Os a happier Future coming, And fancy still they catch a gleara Os a golden Era looming ! The world may grow old, and again grow young, And the Hope of The Better will still be sung. 11. Hope comes with life, in its dawning bright, O'er the sportive child to hover; It inspires the youth with its magic light, And when the old the grave-sods cover, And the g>*ay-haired one in the tomb is bound, Hope’s ever-green emblem we plant on the mound. 111. It is no flattering vain deceit, From a foolish fancy springing ; It speaks of a life more true and meet — An answer to the spirit bringing, Where the promises it ever makes, Through the inner voice, it never breaks ! ATHENS, GEORGIA, SATURDAY, MARCH 17, 1849. popular Calcs’ -- * , For the Southern Literary Gazette. THE INDIAN MOUND: A TALE OF SOUTHERN COUNTRY LIFE. BY CAROLINE HOWARD. As the leading incidents and all the de scriptions in the following pages are literally true, I shall not need a better recommenda tion to fact-loving readers, to interest them in the scenes which I am about to describe, and which occurred in the land where flowers bloom the live-long year, and the soft fall of snow is seldom or never seen on its eternally flower-crowned banks. The sun had just risen, and was casting its early beams across the still waters of the Ashley river. A merry group of young peo ple were watching the manoeuvres, and wait ing for the signal, of four negro oarsmen, who were arranging the tackling of a tow boat that was to convey the party to their destination. To the eyes of a Northerner, the everlasting saunter and slow motions of the sable tribe would have appeared intolera ble, but we Southerners have learned to bear with their inertness, and in some measure, to copy this, one of their greatest failings. While the boat is being rowed leisurely up to the landing, the sun gilding the waters more brightly, the small, powerless steamers which ply over our ferrys are in motion, and the lazy-looking sails of the rice and cotton schooners flapping the night-dew from their shrouds, while the distant sounds from the awaking city reach the ear like one great voice, we will reconnoitre the party on the shore. We were all young, happy and gay ■> anu were Bound on a Christmas frolic for the country residence of Air. Drayton, who had opened his heart and his house to please his beloved nephew and niece, and had commis sioned them to invite whom they would to a Christmas gathering. The party consisted of Lucy and Henry Drayton, our young host and hostess, Bell Allston, whose gay laugh and mirthful coun tenance shed a light around her —Gertrude Aliddleton, whose exquisite and gentle beau ty rendered her almost too angelic for com panionship with earthly creatures such as we —and Richard Motte, a handsome aris!o crat, who loved the light of a cigar better than the-soft beam of a “lady’s eye,” and whose boast was, that he was the devoted slave of the whole world of women. I must ; not forget Air. Lcring, fresh from Yankee I land, a noble-hearted Northerner, who looked, 1 however, with some distrust upon our pro- j ceedings, particularly as he was the object of | many a joke unheard-of in the regions from j which he had come, or myself, dear reader, j whom ycu shal 1 feel better acquainted with at the end of this “ower true tale.” At last, with a great deal of shouting and merriment, we were safely ensconced in our floating palace, which consisted of a rough and genuine country boat, into which we were introduced by our four stout oarsmen. Striking up one of their beautiful and pecu liar songs, with a harmonious chime for a chorus, ihey soon, with their vigorous strokes, left the city far behind, and when nought but the woods and sky were around us, we all joined in their rude chaunt, much to their as tonishment; but they only showed their white teeth the more, or uttered their expressive Ki! between the verses —a sound which con veys more to a Southern ear than the most elaborate sentence. Who can hear the beau tiful impromptu verses which arise from the chief boat singer—the negro improvisator — without imagining that genius of some kind slumbers in his untaught mind I One re markable trait about their singing is, that it is almost impossible to follow or remember the melody; it gushes out like the intricate music of some instrument yet to be discov ered, in the harmony of sounds. The gentlemen yielded us the apartment they styled the cabin , in which, like the cages for the criminals of old, we could neither stand nor recline, for the size of the boat pre vented the erection of a more capacious shel ter from rain or heat. Fancy us, then, float ing along the picturesque Ashley, with five hours in prospect, before we should reach Oak Grove, our destination. One might have judged that eating was to form our chief oc cupation, from the provisions that accompa nied us; and it is quite certain, that we de tected Bell Allston, quietly abstracting cer tain tempting looking sandwiches from one of our well-loaded baskets, long before lunch time. Os course, we all cried treason, and in conveying the eatables to a more secluded corner, it was natural that we should wish, with woman’s failing, to see the veritable ar ticle which so tempted our erring companion, and it was very natural, too, that seeing was. not believing, and that tasting was; and so, in a few moments, a part of our lunch was demolished, and we certainly did not get the credit of being abstemious young ladies. — But then the boatmen had their share, and they sung, after their repast, more lustily than ever. •* * After a while, we grew restless, and the male portion of our party were transferred into the so-called cabin, which we had digni fied by the cognomen of the Procrustean bed, and while they occupied this classic ground, we took their places. Bell Allston, with fun and frolic in her looks, attempted with her small hands to ply an oar, and Lucy Dray ton. who most certainly must have consider ed us ogres in appetite, continued at intervals to press upon us her delightful viands, while Gertrude Aliddleton, with her eyes of blue, reflecting heaven, shaded them from the too much light with her hand, or drank in the beauty of the air, the skies, the sea—caught at each passing object of interest, with a soul always alive to the beautiful—watched the water-duck as it flew far above the reach of our companions’ guns ; or shuddered when a true aim brought down an unconscious bird, which floated dead on the stream, with its purple and gold feathers glistening in the sun, and the red blood welling from its wound. Alany times, too, did she turn from her sketch book, to join in the not very witty or wise jest, revealing by her smile of exquisite sym pathy, that the chords of her mind were strung to blend as well with the heaven above her, as the earth beneath. The character of the scenery was peculiar and beautiful; now we glided through nar row openings, too small to admit of the usb of oars, over which, the green boughs hung so low, that we were obliged to stoop to the level of the sides of the boat, passing through sometimes in deep silence, occasioned by the gloom and delicious quiet of the spot, and as often littering shouts of laughter at the dis appearance of a veil caught in the spreading branches, or the dislodgement of a hat from some dignified head. Oh, those merry peals of joy—they come over my senses like the remembered fragrance of a flower, or a strain of sweet music, stand ing out fiom the mists of time like a picture that has been seen and mst forgotten. And then the wild flowers that we gathered to twine around our bonnets or in our flowing hair, fading almost as soon as culled, llow VOLUME I. —NUMBER 44. we tried the patience of our boatmen, by our continual delays, to pluck some exquisite blossom which we could reach with our hands from the boat, until the warning of “*I decla, m’yong missis,’ de time fly, de day gwine, and Oak Orobe is fudder yet,” came totally unheeded upon our cars. Our bark pursued its course, however, surely but slow ly reaching the goal, (would that our lives had glided along as peacefully,) when a cheer from the landing at the Grove, and an an swering one from us, told us that we were seen and welcomed. The landing scene was so picturesque, that to pass it over without describing it would be impossible. The first object was Mr. Drayton, looking the wel come which is so delightful to the eyes of an expected guest. He was, in appearance, fho rouglily a gentleman of the old school, with many a bow and flourish, and with a joke al ways on his lips, which sent the warm blood coursing to a maiden’s cheek. I verily be lieve that his whole notion of a woman’s du ly was, that she should fall in love, be fallen in love with, and be married. One could not but admire him, as he stood with his'grey locks floating in the breeze, and his noble form bent forward, eager with expectation— for lie always enjoyed the society of the young and happy. Behind him were a crowd of sable indi viduals, all eagerness to wish the new-comers “Alerry Christmas,” and to participate in the fun and frolic that such an influx of young people must bring. They were all well and warmly clad, and many a variegated woollen cap was tossed into the air, while the women made reverential courtesies low to the ground. On each side was a line of immense oaks, whose over-reaching branches met, and show ed that many years had passed since they were acorns under ground. Seats were plac ed at intervals along the avenue under this canopy, over which the drooping and melan choly moss hung its graceful pall. The ave nue extended about a quarter of a mile, from whence you emerged into an open rice-field, which, at the time we speak of, was furrow ed and bare. Then* came a short walk through a grove of pine, and finally a beau tiful and neatly kept garden, from which the noble mansion of Oak Grove was seen in all I its grandeur. Immediately before the house, ! a sloping lawn appeared, covered with a few : fruit and forest trees. But to return to the new comers. At the : first touch of the boat at the shore, Henry Drayton sprang forward and was about to ofFer to guide Gertrude Aliddleton over the plank, when her cousin, Richard Alotte, rais ed her slight form in his arms, and carried her over, placing her, covered with blushes, by Mr. Drayton’s side. “Ah,’’.said he, “blushes and bridals ever accompany each other; but see, one cheek is more rosy than the other, and the pale one must have an old bachelor’s welcome,” where upon, he bestowed upon her a salute so hear ty,* that it gave us an earnest of what we, in our turn, would have to expect. Henry Drayton looked on in moody silence, and walked into what* would eventually be his own domain, with the bearing of a lord. Bell Allston followed, disdaining all aid—at first imitating the proud step of her predeces sor, and then, with one bound, clearing the intervening space, like the fawn of her own wild woods. Air. Drayton was opportunely on the spot, he said, to save her from de struction, and with open arms to receive her; but Bell took both his hands in her own, and appeared by her words to be so much more than overjoyed at seeing him, that he was diverted from bestowing upon her lair cheek