Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

32 conceals him from the throng, only casts on his deformity a deeper blackness, when searched by the light of Heaven. We walk among our fel lows, assuming virtues luiown to us by name alone, and if successful in a specious cheat, de ceiving others, we come at the last to deceive our selves. The two great rocks upon which men split, and are destroyed, are—lst, a craven shrink ing from self-examination ; and, 2d, the dread of the ostracism of the multitude, which always fol lows any deliance of those arbitrary “dicta,” which Time has sanctified, and Custom upholds as wise. These tw r o influences, brought power fully to bear upon natural prejudice, and unregu lated passions, render us what we are ; mummers, and actors in that melancholy masquerade, w hose stage is earth—whose prompters are the spirits of evil—whose scene-shifter is self-interest, and w’hose denouement death. Habit, which is all powerful in an individual, acquires a concentrated strength in society, and if turned to wrong courses, becomes a moral Niagara, beneath whose force the hills of our feeble resolutions melt like sand, and in w'hose roar of error even the mountains of Truth appear to be shaken for a season. And on, on—over the world, deepening and widening in its course, with a sullen thunder that swells to Heaven, and the tumultuous rush of an in scrutable and awful Destiny, the river of human sin and crime knowing no bounds—no pause— few rays of enlighment and peace, hisses between the banks of Time, towards those solemn waters, whose secrets have no Revelation, and appear to the human imagination only in an Apocalypse of gloom. But we, unconscious of the surge upon which we are riding, intent only upon trimming our sails, and hiding the true weakness of our craft from fellow-voyagers, pass onward with smiles, and songs, and laughter, pretending to an excellence we cannot comprehend, and content if our follies be known alone to ourselves. But the curtain must fall upon the stage, and the bark of life be swallowed in the “unknown Ocean,” and as the “Gods themselves cannot fight against necessity,” so the uumasqued soul must tremble into Eterniiy, and with the last dashes of the de ceptive paint, and the tattered remnants of the eaithly gauds lingering upon it, stand in the pre sence of the diviuest irradiation of Truth, which “is the smile upon the face of God.” SOUTHERN TRADE. The following notice is clipped from the Sa vannah Morning JSeics : “A movement is in progress to secure a direct trade from Europe to several of the principal Southern poits ol the Uuited States. It is pro posed to hold a Couvenuon in Aiacon, Ga., in October ntxi, for the purpo.-e of concentrating upon such Souihern ports as are best calculated lor the object m view.” We rejoice to see that our friends of Georgia have taken up this important subject, with the in tention of bestowing upon it the consideration it merits. We, of the South, have been too long supine in regard to our best interests, and surely the opening ol a direct trade with Europe, must be viewed as one ol these interests so paramount iu importance, that if longer uegiected, the disad vantage resulting to the advancement and future SOUTHERN LITERARY GAZETTE. wealth of our section will be incalculable. Now while the spirit of sensible enterprise seems arous ed, we should work without ceasing, for the pur pose of placing the South in that independent po sition, which is her due. Not until we become independent of the appliances of Northern com merce, and have acquired the facilities for a more direct and extensive exportation of our staples, can we hope to reach our legitimate sectional position, and commence to accomplish the ends for which Providence has eminently fitted us. We trust that the Convention to be held in Macon, in October, will assemble together much of the wis dom and patriotism of the South, that the great object they have in view will be considered in a liberal spirit, and iwejasures be adopted calculated to place its accomplishment beyond doubt. it Sigh of fioggip. A Frontispiece for “Uncle Tom’s Cabin.” We saw a scene at one of the principal churches in our city, only a Sabbath or two since, which we wished to have daguerreotyped for the benefit of a vast portion of our unenlightened neighbours at the North. It was Sacrament Sunday at the ! Church, and nearly a thousand of the “down trod den and oppressed sons and daughters of Africa” had participated with their white brethren and sisters in the sacred festival. After the services were over the coloured communicants thronged the church-yard, and lingered around the temple in that eager and animated conversation which is so characteristic of the negroes. They were ‘dressed in their best,’ (and that ‘best’ would have put to shame the “Sunday go-to-meeting fixings” , of the labouring people of New-England !) The bright and fanciful turbans of the women flashed gaily in the sunshine, and a perfect Babel of plea sant voices rose into the evening air. There was a smile upon every face —such a broad, beaming, happy, universal outgushiug of contentment as we never saw, in ail our lives, pervading a group of a thousand men and women whose skins are white. We thought then, that if Mrs. Harriet Beecher Stowe’s publishers would only let us put a daguerreotyped piciure of that scene, as a fron tispiece, into every subsequent copy of Uncle Tom’s Cabin which they issue, we would be content that the book should go into every dwelling in the land, from the “White House” down to the cabin of the humblest squatter upon our farthest borders. Yea, more, it might circulate ‘through every vein’ of the habitable globe, ana we would be satisfied with the story which our piciure would tell even more eloquently than the pen of the gifted, but not conscientious, author of the “ Cabin” The James Adger. The brilliaut success of this beautiful steam ship is matter of congratulation among all who feel a pride iu the prosperity of Charleston. She is owned, we believe, entirely in our city, and has fairly surpassed all her competitors in the speed of her voyages. Twice she has made the home ward trip in two days, &ud upon several other oc casions equally gratifying results would have been obtaiued, but for detentions at the Charleston bar, or by the fogs which infest Sandy Hook. She is one of the noblest specimens of naval architecture afloat, and no “palace of the waters” has a more gallant, courteous and skillful commander, a kind er and more attentive purser, or a more intelligent and trustworthy engineer than the James Adger We commend her, with all sincerity, to those of our readers who would make a pleasant and speedy ocean-trip to New-York. Our Foreign Letters. It is with pleasure that we present to our rea ders, in this number, the first of a series of “Let ters from a Lady Abroad.” To those who are privy to the authorship of these letters, they will need no commendation from us. To others, how ever, we may fitly say that they will find both pleasure and profit in their perusal. We trust, for the sake of our readers, that we shall be fa voured with frequent letters from our esteemed correspondent. Wonderful Speed. A letter from one of the members of the Wash ington Light Infantry corps of this city, appears in the Constitutionalist of the 14th, and begins in these words: “After a pleasant passage of forty-two hours, we arrived in tins city in fine health and good spirits.” Having read thus far, we stopped to consider what voyage the Washington Light Infantry had made recently that could have been accomplished j m “forty-two hours.” A glance at the next lines satisfied us that the passage in question was none other than the return trip by rail-way from Au gusta to this city, and we notice it to congratulate the rail-way company upon the extraordinary speed their cars must have attained upon the oc casion. Wonder if it was an “express train!” Words that we feel. If we need to apologize to our readers for the apparent egotism of quoting the following para graph, (trom the Cassville standard,) we will do so by saying that it was penned by one of our friends in Georgia who has known us all through our past struggles, in the discouraging effort to build up a domestic periodical literature. It is a tribute most grateful to us that it comes from Georgia, the still beloved scene of our earliest literary labours. We are not disposed to make a vain boast of our persevering efforts in the wo>k before us, lor we are well aware of their imperfec tions, but it should be of no disservice to us, to say the least, with the people of the South, that the facts stated by our friendly contemporary should be repeated. He says, truly, that we are acting upon the doctrine “There is no such word as fail.” Thanks—a thousand thanks—to all who like him stay our hands by their sympathy and encouragement. “ The Southern Literary Gazette. —We have frequently spoken ol the character of this old and well established journal, but the com mencement of anew semi-annual volume, now requires us to say a lew words more. It is now published in quarto lorm, with a semi-monthly supplement—alt filled with matter.ol the choices! chaiacter. We will repeat what we befoie re marked m relation to its gentlemanly editor, Wm. C. Richards, Esq.—that if there is any man iu | [i July 24,