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Tlic happiest biid’of o'.ir sprine. however, and one that rivals the Eurojieaii laik, in nay estimation, is the B oblincoo. or Boblink,as he is commonly calle I. He arrives fit that choice portion of our venr. vvhcli, .n this lati tude, answers to the dcscriplton-oi the month of May, so often given by the poets. With us. it Iteains about tlic middle of May, and lasts until nearly tlic middle of June. Earlier than this, winter ts apt to return on its traces, and to MifjhHhewjpcniug lieanties of the year; and later than ’this, begin the parching, and panting, and dis.-o!vitig heats of summer. B it ifl’this genial interval, nature is in all her freshness and fragrance ; ‘ the rains arc over and gone, the (lowers appear upon t e earth, the ti:no of the singing of birds is come, and the voice of the turtle is heard in the land. The trees are now in their fullest foliage and brightest verdure ; the woo Is are guy w th the cl littered (lowers of the laurel; the air •*> per fumed bv the sweet-briar arid the/.tv,lii rose; the meadows are emmmolled -with -dover ,hlo?so;n-i; while the young npple; the peach and the (iluin, begin to swell, and tilecherry to glow, among t ie green leaves. This is the chosen season of revelry of the Bohliuk. He comes amidst the pomp tnd fragrance of t.he season ; his life seems all sensibility and enjoyment, all song and sun shine. He is to he found in the soft bosoms of the freshest and sweetest meadows; and is most in song, when the clover is in blossom. He perches on the topmost twig,of a tree, or on some long flaunting weed, and as he rises and sinks with the breeze, pours forth a sue cession of rich tinkling notes ; crowding one •upon another, like that out-pouring melody of the sky-lark, and possessing the same raptur ous character. Sometimes he pitches from rthe summit of a tree, begins his song as soon as he gets upon the wing, and flutters tre/nu •lousLy down to the earth, as if overcome with •eestacy at his own music. Sometimes he is in pursuit ofhis paramour ; always in full song as if he would win her by his melody ; and always with the same appearance of intoxica ttion and delight. Os all the birds of our groves and medows, the Boblink was the envy of my boyhood. He crossed my path in the sweetest weather, and the sweetest season of the year, when all nature called to the fields, and the rural feel ing throbbed in every bosom ; but when I, luckless urchin ! was doomed to be inewed up, during the livelong day, in that purgatory ol boyhood, a school-room. It seemed as if the little varlet mocked at me, as lie flew by in full song, and sought to taunt me with his happier lot. Do, how I envied him ! No lessons, no tasks, no hateful school; nothing but holiday, frolic, green fields aid line vfeather. Had I been then more versed in poetry. 1 might have addressed him in the words of Logan to the rcuckoo: ■ S.vrct bird ! thy bower is ever green, Thv sky is ever clear; Tli ■hi hast no sorrow in thy note, No winter in thy year. Oh ! could I fly, I'd fly with thee ; We'd make, on joyful wing, .Oar annual visit round the globe, Companions of the spring ! Farther observation and experience have * given me a different idea o! this little leathered •voluptuary, which I will venture to impart, for the benefit ol my school.boy readers, who t ,n regard hint with the same unqualified! ►envy and admiration which. 1 once indulged. I have shown him only as I saw him tit first, in what I may call the poetical part of his can cr, when he in a manner devoted himself to elegant pursuits and enjoyments, and was a ■bird of music, and song, and taste, and sensi bility, and refinement. Whilst this lasted, he was sacred from injury ; the very school-boy, would not fling a stone at him, and the merest rustic would pause to listen to his strain. But mark the diticrenee. As the vear advances, as the clover-blossoms disappear, and the spring fades into summer, his notes cease to vibrate on the car. He gradually gives up his .elegant tastes an I habits, do!Fs his poetical and •professional suit of black, assumes a russet or rutbor dusty garb, and enters inlo the gross enjoyments of common, vulgar birds, lie be comes a bon vivant, a mere gourmand ; think ing of nothing hut good cheer, and gormandi .ziu" on the seeds of the long grasses on which swung, and cliaunted so musically, i to think there is nothing like ‘ the jo™of the table,’ ifj may he allowed to apply .that convival phrase to his indulgences. He •tow grows discontented with plain every-day fire, and sets out on a gastrouomlca! tour, in search of foreign luxuries. He is to he found in myriads among the ree ls of the Delaware, banqueting on their seeds; grows corpulent •with good feeding, and soon acquires the un ’lncky renown of the ortolan. Wherever he goes, pop! pop! pop! the rusty fi relacks of "the country are cracking on every side; lie sees his companions filling by Uiouatuvk. around him; lie is the reed-bird, the /nuch sought-for til-bit of the .Pennsylvania epicure. Does lie take warning and reform ? Not lie! Ho wings his fl.ght still further south, in search of other luxuries. We hear of him gorging himself in the rice swamps ; filling liimsdt wit.i nee almost to bursting ; lie can liardlv fly for corpulency. Last Mage of his career, we hear of him spitted hv dozens, and wrved up on th > table of the gourmand, the most vaunted ot southern dainties, the rice ■<l/ird of the Curolitms. Such is the story of the once musical and admired, but finally sensual and persecuted, Boblink. It contains a moral, worthy tlie at ten!ion of all little* birds and little boys ; warn ing them to keep to those refined and intellec tual pursuits, which raised him to so high a pitch of popularity, during tlie early part of his career ; but to eschew all tendency to that gross and dissipated indulgence, which brought tuts mistaken little bird to an untimely end. Which j.s all at present, from the well-wisher oflatle boys and little birds. ADIIRIITB VTOR'R BALE. W^T| ■L'hcaoM .),) THURSDAY, 'lie 11th rlnv of * » JULY m'Xt.sit the remirwc it Th"’rw>s Vorit, InV of T vijjus county, tleccau-i!, at* the |m riahablr pro. re-riv belonging lo shiU dee- nued, U'lisi-linc of Slock*. II i«, Horse* iiml Iftoarho'd Furniture, mu! eunclrv oilier articles, too numrmn* to o .n CHARLES c. WHITEHEAD, AduiV June 1 g-H TIIE FATE OF THE HORNET. 11l the National Intelligencer ©flatty 23d is re-publisbcd an article from the New.York' Dispatch, in which some credence appears to be given to a tale of a sailor now settled in the 1 Far West, of his being a survivor with five others of the crew of the U- S. sloop of war Hornet, lost some years since in the Gulf of Mexico. He is reported to have stated “ that the Hornet was making for a harbor, when she struck upon a rock ; and that he knows of the esca|ie from the wreck of no persons ex cept himself and his five companions.” “They wore drifted ashore upon the island of Cuba, whence, after different changes and fortunes, he is found at the West.” The statements here made By this soi-dis tiuit sailor.of the Hornet are so paljnbly false that they would not obtain from me, at least, ■a contradiction, but for the reason that at different and distant periods the fate of the flornet has been witli me a subject of interes- Siting investigation, near the place of her des truction. Before I proceed to relate the result of my inquiries, I will offer but a word of comment upon the miserable attempt at deception prac tised by the pretended survivor of that lamen ted vessel and crew. It is known officially 'that'the Hornet was at anchor off Tampico I’bar. on the coast of Mexico ; and that, a vio ; lent norther coming on, she put to sea, and lias never since been heard of; that she then i foundered there can be no doubt, and that all |on board perished with her is nearly equally certain. Some remains of the boats of the Hornet, it is understood, were subsequently found upon the adjacent coast of Mexico, flow the survivor in the West contrived to get ashore upon the island of Cuba, nearly one thousand miles from Tampico, will appear to a seaman somewhat miraculous ; and that the Hornet should have struck upon a rock in making for a harbor is apparent to any one at till acquainted with the coast of Mexico to be a silly lie ; for there is not a single harbor for a vessel of that class upon the whole Mexican i coast of the Gulf of Mexico. Vera Cruz, about 180 miles south of Tampico, admits j large vessels between-the island and the city; : but it is no harbor in a norther. A few months before the loss of ihqjlornet, the writer of this communication was in Ha vana, in command of an armed vessel; the Hornet made her appearance ofTthe Moro, and ; sent a boat into the port to communicate with the Qonsul, Mr. Rodney. It came oil to blow a gale of wind, and the boat could not return. An invitation was given and accepted for the officer and men to remain on board the vessel under my command. The following day the weather moderated, and the Hornet came into j port. This small act of courtesy lei to an acquaintance with Captain Norris and his officers, which of course, from knowing the sufferers personally, augmented tlie deep regret felt by every American at the sad event which took place soon afterwards. About one year after the event alluded to while lauding a cargo of valuable merchandize on the const of Mexico at the mouth of tlie St. Andeiy.l was informed by au American gentle man, a doctor, then them, that he was at Tampico at the time of the loss of the Hornet. He was to have been a passenger in her; his trunks and baggage were on board, and be was prevented from embarking by the sudden-' ness of the gale, tie staled that the Hornet ] was at auchor off* the bar of Tampico, about three miles from land ; her boats were on shore, inside the bar, taking oil’some provis ions ; and that, before tlie work was accom plished, owing, as ho supposed, to tlie strong indications of a norther, the bi*afe -were sud denly recalled to the shjp by signal, and ae-j cordingly instantly abandoned their task and repaired to their vessel. The boats were im mediately hoisted in, the Hornet weigned her anchors, and a moment before dark, stood olf tesea under close-reefed topsails—tlie norther having fairly set in, and with great violence. Two or three other vessels also put to sea at the same time. He saw her still standing to the eastward until night and the storm closed the view forever. It was after tlie lapse of several years tliat in the city of Tampico, I was repeating to severe! of my countrymen—sea-captains and others—the statement of Dr. , relative to the Hornet. The relation being ended, one of tlie persons present, Captain , well known as having been many years in the trade between Tam pice and" New-Orleans, informed us that be was in command of one of the schooners which lay off the bar ofTampi-j co, and put to sea with tlie Hornet that evening. He stated that tlie wind commenced blowing violently from the north: hence it had been considered merely a norther of unusual vio lence. Such he said, was not the fact, but that it partook more of the character of the West India hurricane ; for that, between eight and nine at night, the wind suddenly shitted .from north, or north-northwest, to southeast; and the change was made with such violence that his vessel, being in ballast only, was in stantly thrown on her beam ends, when he was in imminent danger .and momentary .ex pectation of miserably perishing. With the closing of night he had lost sight of the Hornet and other vessels. On that awful night, while clinging to the rigging ofhis capsized vessel, which it requi red the utmost exertion of Ins strength to ef fect, the sea having been lashed into fury by the opposing winds, amid the roar of the tem pest and rush of waters, suddenly arose above the storm the shrill sound of the %oatswaiu’s call. He was instantly awa eof the proxim ity of the Hornet, and suddenly she hurst in sight, scudding north or quartering before the gale; for a moment it appeared to him she was bent on his annihilation, to run him over and down ; he essayed to hail. Bootless effort ! J Before his stifled words were half uttered, un ; heard and unseen, he was passed within twon j ty feet hy the I lornct—the last tin e, probahly, ! that ever human eves, other than those fated :to perish with her, beheld her. She came nnd went like a phantom ship, lie could have al most touched lier, so close did the approxima tion seem. I asked, did he or could he note j at such a lime, the appearance of the vessel ? j remarking that any recollection of hi* might tend to elucidate the loss of the vessel. He j replied, her topgr ilant masts had been lient ; down, that tier lower yards were on tlie gun -1 wale, or lianging hy tlie gear*, and that slic THE SOUTHERN POST. was scudding without a stitch of canvass set. He supposed, and-l think truly, that she either plunged beneath the heavy sea, which had been got up by the nortli-wind in the first part of tlie hurricane, or was swamped by the top pling of the cross sea before which the fatal attempt was made to seud ; but preoably not until an attempt had been made to lie to, which the change of wind, and the Hornet being a low single-dccked vessel, made impracticable. The Captain stated that he was relieved the following day by one of the schooners which sailed in company, and had triumphantly rode out the storm. In confirmation of the above statements, I was informed at that time, while in Tampico, by Mr. Crawford, the then British Consul, that he had been on board the Hornet, and had breakfasted with Capt. Norris on the day pro ceeding her loss. A British packet was in the offing, and he was on his way to board her, when, being too distant at the time from the land, he went on board the Hornet, and was hospitably received and entertained by Captain Norris. He left the Hornet in the forenoon, and proceeded to the packet, wliere lie was caught by the norther, and remained on board for several days. Heconfirmed the statement of the Captain—of the wind having commen ‘cefi fronvthe northward, nnd-euddenly veering to southeast ’He described the storm as being similar, in every respect, to the hurricanes of the West Indies, which are known to blow in quick succession from opposite points of the ermpnss. I had always intended, some time or other, to give publicity to the facts above related, and do not regret that my attention has been recalled to the subject, though a pain ful one. W. From the Knickerbocker. We must make room for a Texian corres pondent, who is quite right in suspecting, ‘that many of the more authentic, curious, and inter esting details, that float in -conversation, con cerning the ‘republic’ and her history, never appear in print;’ narratives of adventure, reminiscences, general intelligence, anecdotes, etc., * which,’ he writes, ‘ need only to be pet eolated and crystalized, by such pens as those of your cones londents living and Cooper, to attract universal attention.’ Perhaps so; but be that ns it may, they are certainly new facts and interesting, in the annexed' little sketch: THE RED ROVERS. Dr. S , ofCourtland, Alabama, a native of Virginia, raised a company of cigity young men, who were called the ‘ Red Rovers,’ from the color of the blanket great-coats which they wore. In this company were a son and a nephew of the captain. Dr. S , with his ‘Red Rovers,’ was with Fanning when he surrendered; and in common with the other officers, he strongly opposed the surrender, having no confidence in the Mexican faith. But Fanning was resolved; and when lie made known his decision, the captain and one or two officers shed Tears. Their fine is well known. They were marched oul from a fort, wliere they were confined, under various pretexts ; now they were ‘to lie taken to Co pano, a neighboring sea-port, to be shipped back home to the United States;’ and again they were ‘sent out to drive in cattle to the foit. They had not proceeded far, however, before they were ordered lo hault, and -next to wheel to the right about, so as to stand with their backs to the Mcxfcan lir e. The orders were given in Spanish. The number of the Texian volunteers was about four hundred, and of tlie Mexicans, about tlie snme. The two lines stood about three feet apart, there being tufty a brush fenos between them. Nearly all the prisoners were massacred ; a few made their-escape. Among the victims ®f this slaughter, -were the Red Rovers, and among them the son of the commander, who with himself spared, probably for the sake of his professional services; and his nephew owed his escape to sickness, which prevented his marching, although he was anxious to accom pany them, supposing they were about to re turn home. Fanning, poor fellow ! received tlie melancholy distinction of being shot alone. He was a brave man, and died like a soldier, merely requesting not to have his eyes ban daged, and desiring his watch and miniature to be given to his mother. He was a graduate of Princeton College. There was a jealousy subsisting between Fanning and Houston, and a wTmt of concert. Houston repeatedly sent word to him to join but he refused, de claring that he wished to fight “ on his own hook.” This w-'s the grand faux pas in Texas. The scattered parties ought to have concentrated under Houston ; they did not, and were cut off‘singulatim.’ I was walking the streets of Tuscumbia, shortly after the massacre of Copano, when I saw a dense crowd of people around a young man, one of the ‘Red Rovers,’ who had escaped. He had lost a brother in the massacre, and spoke with great bitterness of the Mexicans. He gave some account of his adventures, and answered divers questions that were propoun ded to him. He owed his safety to the fact, that he belonged to the van-guard of Fanning’s corps, consisting of some twe. ty or thirty who were separated from the main body, at the time of the surrender. I met, on the same occasion, another Texian volunteer, who had also belonged to the advance guard, whom I recognized as a former acquaintance. ID was a native of South Carolina; but at the time the Texian fever was at its height, be quitted school, bought a rifle, and marched with the ‘ Red Rovers,’ in search of land and ■ glory ’ His brother who went out with him, I had also escaped, with two wounds. He was among the-massacred, but being only slightly wounded, .ran ; he was pursued by a Mexican soldier, who was fast gaining on him, when he j threw down his gold watch, which the Mexi can, with characteristic pold.greodiness, stop ped to pick up, and he succeeded in making his way to the tall grass, that effectually con cealed him. After enduring many hardships, he at last effected his return to the United States. I subsequently saw Dr. S at Tuscum bia <>n his return. He had had a hard time of it. He looked pale and emaciated, and bore tlie marks of the galling fetters lie had worn on his ancles. The people of the town flocked around, to shake hand* with him, and welcome his r -turn. It was deemed certain that lie had shared the fate of his companions in arms, and he was regarded as one risen from the dead. He was spared on account of his being a sur geon, aided by a little finesse on his part. ‘He was travelling in Texas,’ he said,’ ‘ merely to look at the country, when fie was pressed into the service, in the capacity of surgeon The Mexican commandant, at the fort were he was confined, promised to discharge him on parole ; but when applied to for a passport, put him off from time to time. At length, be sent the commandant word : ‘ Jfyou will notgrai tthe passport, than let me be taken out and shot. I had rather you would do this, tli in detain me here any longer in suspense. You are wel come to al' the credit you may gain by either course.’ This produced a favorable effect on the officer, who at once agreed to furnish him with a passport to some town in the interior ; one, however,-.which it was impossible to reacli without great risk from the Indians on the way. At this conjuncture, suddenly came news of the battle of San Jacinto. Reader you have seen a pebble hurled by some mischievous school-boy into the centre of a hornets’ nest, dependent from the bough of some tall pine ? Such was the.panic among the Mexicans. Tile fort was*quickly evacuated, only a small garrison being left with the wounded and prisoners. Our captain then formed, with a fellow physician and prisoner, a plan of escape. They armed themselves ‘ cap-a-pie,’ with arms belonging to officers of the fort, each bearing a rifle, a brace of pistols, and a Bowie-knife. They borrowed two fine horses, ready capa rsioned from the stables, mounted them, and fled. They lay concealed in the woods, or in the tall grass of the piairie, during the day, -travelling in the njght; and thus, after suffer ing many privations and dangers, they at-last -entered the happy limits of their own country. Shortly after his arrival in Tuscumbia, the drum was heard, and a party of the military assembled to accompany him home. A can non was mounted on a car, and fired every mile, to his residence, twenty-two miles distant. When he arrived, the whole population came out to meet him, and among them his wife and children. lie bore the whole scene with com posure, until a little son can e up and grasped him by the knee. At this he shed tears. Painful return ! Os his ‘ Red Rovers,’ few survived. Nearly all, mid among them his son, were sacrificed. They had not died amid -the ‘ shouts of battle, and the shock of arms ;’ they-w"re slaughtered, like cattle; immolated in a Mexican hecatonlb ! THE BATTLE of KING’S MOUNTAIN. INTERESTING REVOLUTIONARY DOCUMENT. We have never seen the following in print which we now publish from the original man uscript, in the possession of a gentleman of this town. It gives an account-of a brilliant affair in our Revolution, drawn up at'the time by the chief actors in it, and expressed in the plain strong style that belonged to the period. This, with very many other battles ii; the South has never attracted tlie applause, or attained the historical notoriety which have attended the Revolutionary incidents of similar magnitude, in other quarters; and, indeed, so mud, more has been written concerning the Revohi tionary incidents of the North, and so much more been done by the People and the States in that section to commemorate and signalize them, that the present generation in the neigh borhood of Cowpens and King’s Mountain know more about Bunker’s Hill and Lexing ton, and more of Starke and Putnam, than of Pickens or Campbell. “ No monument, inscription-mono ; Their race, their deeds, their names, almost unknown.” W-e have always thought that those battle fields in our State which were illustrated by tlie gallantry and devotion of our ancestors should be marked by permanent mementos, at the cost of the State—every one, from Fort Moul trie to King’s Mountain. And he who would carry such a measure through the Legislature would himself deserve a monument Columbia (S. C.) Telescope. “ A Statement of the proceedings of the Western Ar my, from tlie 35ih day of September, 1780, to the re duction of Major Ferguson and the Army under his command. “ Oil receiving intelligence that Major Fer guson had advanced up as hjgh as Gilbert Town, in Rutherford county, and threatened to cross the mountains to the western waters, Colonel William Campbell, with four hundred men, from Washington county, Virginia ; Col. Isaac Shelby,-with two hundred and forty men, from Sullivan county, Nortli-Carolii a; and Lieut. Colonel John Sevier, with two hundred and forty men, from Washington county, N. Carolina, assembled at Watauga on the 25th day of September, where they were joined by Col. Charles McDowell, with one hundred and sixty men, from tlie counties of Burke and Rutherford, who had fled before the enemy to the Western waters. We began our march on the 26th, and on the 30th we were joined by Col. Cleveland, on the Catawba river, with three hundred and fifty men from the counties of Wilkes and 'Surry. No one officer having properly a right to the command.in-ciiief, on the first of October we despatched an express to Major-GeneralGates, informing him of our situation, and requested hrm to send a general officer to take the command of tlie whole.— In the mean time, Col. Campbell was chose i to act as commandant till such general officer should arrive. We marched to the Cowpens, on Broad river, in South-Carolina, wliere we were joined by Col. James Williams, with four hundred men, on the evening of the 6th Octo ber, who informed us that the enemy lay en camped somewhere near the Cheroki e lord of Broad river, about thirty miles distant from us. By a council of the principal officers, it was then thought advisable to pursue the ene my that night with nine hundred of the best horsemen, and leave the weak horse and foot men to follow on as fast ns possible. We be gan our march with 900 of the best men, about eight o’clock the same evening, and, march ing all night, came up with the enemy about three o’clock, P. M. of the 7th, who lay en camped on the topof"King’s Mountain, twelve miles north of the Cherokee ford, in the confi. dence that tliey could not lie forced from so advantageous a post. 'Previous to tlie attack, on our march, the following deposition was made : t\il, Selby’s regiment formed a col- ‘ umn in the centre, on tlie left; Col. Campbell’s regiment another on the right; part of Col. Cleaveland’s regiment, headed by Major Win ston and Col. Sevier’s regiment, formed a large column, headed by Col. Cleveland himself, and Col. Williams’ regiment, composed ttie left wring. In this order we advanced, and got within a quarter of a mile of tlie enemy before we were discovered. Cols. Slielby’s and Campbell’s regiments began the attack, and kept up a fire on the enemy, while the right and left wrings were advancing forward to sur round them, which was done in about five min utes, and tlie fire bpcame genera! all around. Tlie engagement lasted an hour and five min utes, tlie greater part of which time a heavy and i icessaut fire was kept up on both sides. Our meo, in some parts, where tlie regulars fought, were obliged to give way a small dis tance two or three times, but rallied and re turned with additional ardor to the attack.— The troops upon tlie summit having gained the summit of the eminence, obliged the enemy to retreat along the top of the ridge to where Col. Cleveland commanded, and were there stopped by his brave-men ; a flag was imme diately hoisted by Captain D -poistnre, then commanding officer, (Major Ferguson having been killed a little before,) for a surrender.— Our fire immedi; tely ceased, and the.enemy laid down their arms, the greater part of them charged, and surrendered themselves prison ers to us at discretion. “Itqppears from their own provision re turns for that day, found in their camp, that their whole force consisted of eleven hundred and twenty-five men, out of which they sus tained the following loss : Os the regulars, one major, one captain, two sergeants, and fifteen privates, killed; thirty five privates wounded, left on the ground, notable to march ; two captains, four lieutenants, throe ensigns, otic surgeon, five sergeants, three corporals, one drummer, and forty-nine privates, taken pris oners. Loss of the Tories : Two colonels, three captains, and 201 privates, killed ; one major and 127 privates wounded and left on the ground, not able to march, one colonel, twelve captains, eleven lieutenants, 2 ensigns, one quarter-m<ister,one adjutant, two commis saries, eighteen sergeants, and 600 privates, taken prisoners. Total loss of the enemy, 1,- 105 men, at King’s Mountain. “ Given under our hands, at camp. '* VVM. CAMPBELL, “ ISAAC SHELBY, “ BEN J. CLEVELAND.” THE ELOQUENCE OF THE WEST, As contrasted with that of tlie East, presents many striking peculiarities. The eloqucnc i of the East is sober, passionless, condensed, metaphysical; that of the West is free, lofty, agitating, grand, impassioned. The East is pure, chastened down to a defiance of critical oensure, sharpened down to a fineness too ra zor like to cleave the mountains or curve the rocks; the West defies and transcends criti cism—tin bosoms mighty thoughts, appl es mo- I fives to human mind as strong as the rush of a whivlwii and, in language varied yet strong, and if ever defective, yet grand. The thoughts !of the W. st are large. In the East, a river means the brawling and foaming Meriimae, I the mountain-ltd Ke.i nett.-c, or the poetic Con necticut; in the West, tlie same word means the proud flow of waves too wide to roar, and cincturing half the Globe in their course. In the East, a pi tin means a patch of earth hedg ed in by circumambient mountains, defended on either hand by rock and in the West, a plain means an expanse of territory over which tlie sun rises and sets tbiougli a thou sand successive horizons, and above whose car pet of verdure heaven spreads out half her stars. In the East, a wind means a blast which wrestles with the mountain beech or maple, or plays fitfully .with the fallen snow ; in the West, the same word means the roaring impulse which accum 1 *e- "bout the head'waters of thefar-wande g Missouri passes a distance in which Europe and Asia might lie laid out iu length an ! breadth, and pours its vast vol ume of tornado into the Gulf of Mexico. . Maffit’s Lecture. ORIGINAL. For the Southern Post. TO iUISS C***\ There is a flower whose little form Is seen where heroes lie forgot: It blooms where raged the battle storm, And speaks these words —Forget me not. Oh ! take and wear'this emblem flower, This badge of friendship's sacred thought— When Fate reveals her darkest hour, With this sweet bloom—Forget me not. And when my doom with those is told. Who have oblivion for their lot; And when my name's with death enroll’d, Oh 1 then I ask—Forget me not. J wish no monument of art, Na tomb to mark my burial spot; If memory’s flower bloom in your heart. Fair lady, then—Forget me not. If bitter care should be 'life's.goal, Or disappointments mark my lot, They’d be unnoticed by my soul, If lady, you—Forget me not. But I must close—night's coming on, And darkness soon will veil this spot: Ere it is night I will be gone, Farewell! Farewell!! —Forget me not! T. J. M. For the Southern Post. THE RETURN. Sweet Florida—land of my love, Once more I've returned unto tlicc ; Thou land of the myrtle and dove, Give a welcome again unto me. Once more Hi thy sweet-scented bowers, My foot#;ps with eagerness roam ; I belong lathee, loved land of flow ers, My brightest, most beautiful home. The lii-arts that arc dt-aresi are here. Then why should I leave thee again ? W hen die prized and the lov'd ones are near Who fears e-itlier sickness or pain ? Ttu-n liad lo the bright sky above, To the land of die oak and die sine; Thou mayest choose oilier lands for dty lose, Tho Florals, *hou, stl for mine P K, f ' For die Soutl, ern Po,. TO PHILOCLE i. Poets have sting of the magic that lies In beautiful flowers and glorious eyes; But the joys for me, as given by thee *' W.th the look and the tone so tenderly breads Thou beautiful one, I am never deceived Yes-thou art the ivy that flings its embrace Around the -aft oak with such exquisite grace Sweet saint! Thy clasping arms Shall bind, as fairy charms. One who has never owned the spell Os woman’s love till now, farewell c. v. LETTERS FROM THE WEST INDIES No 12 TIIE EARTHQUAKE. Fort Royal, Martinico, March, 1839 To the Editor of the Southern Post: Dear Sir—As intimated to yon in my last, we left Barbados on the evening of the 17th, and this mnrn ; were off the Diamond Rock, a few miles below the "rs .ranee to this Bay. Wiith a favorable trade to bringt w.thm the point, and two or three stretches across ,)! Bay we dropped our anchor alongside some America! lumber vessels which were trading here with huildin" materials, now in demand, to repair the ruined lown ° At the entrance to the Bay, or. a cliff above the poin, a hide white spot attracted our attention, and proved on examination, to be a small image of the Virgin cured within an indenture in the rock, placed there probahly hy s<nie pious French sailor, as a shrine whence he could invoke protection on his voyages to :he fatherland. Though we cannot but regret the in security of-co gross an error, who would wound the sensibility which induces an act of superstitious devo lion to one so nearly allied to that Holy Saviour thru' whose merits alone a lost world dare look to be resto red to the favor of our Almighty Father. Our first and distant view of the town did not indi cate so general a destruction as we have heard, and afterwards found had occurred, many buildings greatly shattered, not having yet fallen down. The roofs front a distance looked as if entire, but as soon as we reach ed the shore, and their actual condition was apparent it was indeed a deeply melancholy picture of de--truc. tion. While the walls were in many places literally rent asunder, they were only held up by their contigni ty to each other, and the roofs and petitions tumbled into one general chaos, others are flat to the ground, some lost an end, others a side, while the balance were left standing. The Governor’s House, a large twosto ry building, a little outside of town, lost one entire end. The entire front wall of the Government House in town separated from the body of the building more than twelve inches, but was braced up by strong timbers which prevented the whole edifice from falling. The upper part of the Hospital fell in and killed over ninety of its inmates. It is impossible to get correct informs .tion of the whole number killed, accounts of different individuals on the spot vary from three to twelve hun dred. After seeing the extent of devastation it is only wonderful how it is possible that so few were destroy ed, happening as it did, before the general hour of ri sing in the morning, and without any previous warn ing. It is a fearlul tale, when told hy the sufferers, and would rend the stoutest heart. Mad'lle. Sarah Dela va!, the landlady with whom we stopped, carried us over the upper part of her house, the third story ofw hic'i with part of the second, was nearly demolished, butt :e inmates were mercifully spared their lives. She des cribed the recking of the building as if the whole sur face of the Island were moving like a heavy and mass ive ship upon a troubled ocean, too large to rise with every wave, hut feeling the genera! agitation of the su blime and ponderous element. This town, the Capital of the Island, must have been one of the handsomest in the West Indies—it contain’ ed, as w-e learnt hy enquiry, about eight thousand in habitants. It has a beautiful mall or parade ground of several acres, enclosed with rows of the deep shading tamarind—its streets are considerably wider than those of St Pierre, which gives it more the appearance of an American city. But what a devastation ? In the short space of one minute, indeed short of that period, the mighty power of an allwise but chastening God Vas upon it; its massive foundations rocked, its ponderous wr.lls, built to resist the tornadoes which often passover those seas, crumbled and fell, and sudden and severe anguish fell upon thousauds wholay down in their beds in ease and affluence, nnd were awakened to feel the depth of bitter bereavement, want and misery. Some find shelter among the riaeaw, others have sought a re fuge in other places, and it will be long indeed, if ever, that this once cheerful spot shall regain its former pros perity. But while the mind sickens as we pass through tits devastated streets and climb over the crumbled masses of ruin, the eye may still find some relief, by admiring the bold peaks and verdant vallies which, like an am phitheatre, encompass the blighted city, around which nature still blooms with her refreshing verdure, and there are yet other circumstances connected with this spot which recalls to my heart scenes that once awa kened my youthful enthusiasm, and which may still •find aplaoe within my recollection, when the thrilling interest of the Earthquake’s destruction may have pass ed from my memory. .1 was born and cradled during the brightest of Buonaparte’s meteor-like career. Du ring the earliest years of my education his sun of glory had not yet set, and I cannot forget how my young heart thrilled when I heard the oft told tale of his chi valrous daring—nor was! less enthusiastic to hear as sociated in his fame and honors, the lovely, amiable and high-souied Josephine, whose happiness was sacrificed at the shrine of a cold and selfish slate policy, to which she yielded, as she did every other impulse of her heart, a willing martyr to the desire of perpetuating the name and dynasty of him who held her whole heart. Here is the spot where she was born —here, in her career of youthful loveliness, she tripped over the hills, the pride of her fond parents; and here, under a tropica! sun, grew up those gentle emotions which ripened in other days into that devoted love that conquered and held in its silken hands the Conqueror of Europe. There, said my informant, pointing to a spot on the opposite side o the Bay, “ Josephine was born—there her mother lies buried—several of her relations are still living here, nod it is but a few years sinee I heard her old nurse, (who is still living,) tell the story of the fortune teller, at which she was present, giving the prediction of the high des tiny which she so nobly filled." No marble tablet nor storied urn marks the birth place of Josephine, but her memory is cherished in the enthusiastic hearts of her Island countrymen, and but a few months ago a plan was proposed, and but fur having been arrested by the calamity which buried the city in ruins, would probably have been carried into cl feet, to erect a monument on this spot to her nietnw?- In coincidence with these interesting circumstances, within a few yards of us, lies quietly at anchorage, * French man-of-war which, it is said here, carried poleon from Elba to France, to reign the hundred da) * previous to the final close of his high career. For t' truth of this statement I cannot vouch, but she beautiful little vessel of eighteen guns, was built an e the direction of the great Emperor himself, nnd ihou, now forty years old, and was hut a few months ’ the storming of St. Juan de 1 'lion, look* in C ' lU|l U trim and order. How long might we dwell on th p teresting associations which iliose circumstances < to mind. The ashes of her Who charmed ad I* commingles with the sod of Frence, the writes o glory and close of her high destiny i while I*** l * * 1 t amhmon, when living, deluged Europe in ’’ on an troll-bound rock in a distant sea, where •" will probably, in a few m«»r« yean*, he none '