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(fUlje fUjWjJtft H§tw sabet. JOHN H.SHI VLS. Kditornnd F»roprietor. L. VIRGINIA FRENCH, Literary Editor. Gaiks’ Department. BY MRS. L. VIRGINIA FRENCH. All letters intended for Mrs. French must be addressed to her at McMinnville _Toim. A Reveille* BY L VIRGINIA FBJSNCH. [To one who exclaimed in bitterness of soul, “My life !— alas !my life has been a failure .'] Wake: sonlof Beauty! wake to join The armaments of Mind! Seek tlgljt wittifh the burning "tar', tAml freedom from the wind; Press strongly.np lire tangled way And dare tbe toiling strife That gathers darkly round tliao ’Mid the wilderness of Life; Fear naught but F ll’UlU- —win thy crown From opposition’s wrath, And garlands of its lightnings wreathe To strew along thy pntli! Be thou the searching wind that wanders Up tho darkened sky, Whore to thine earnest quest for Truth Tire singing stare reply; Go drain tire gnlfsof Soul—or scale Tho pinnacles of Mind, There's rest f>r weaker natures, thine lias left repose behind: Go seek for sparkling gems ofthonght In feeling's hi deli caves, And bring u« jewels of the beirt From out their burning graves. Take the stern volume “ Human life,'' And scan its mystery well, Fur in thy charmed existence sleeps The secret us its spelt; Exert tho strength immortal In tby spirit's depths concealed, Nor moulder, like the rock, nway In power unrcvealed - Call up ten thousand echoes To thy glory’s rushing strain, Nor slumber 'mid tby wasted gifts By God bestowed in vain 1 And, when ’lie clminlcss flow of soul Swells, passionate and strong. O'ei whelming thine enchanted 1 fe Oh 1 dreaming Child of Song! Give the cold altars of the world Thy streams of living fire— Pour out tldne overflowing heart, Upon the quivering lyre; Fling forth thy love’s best treasures, brought From feeling’s fervid zone, Hot ask no heart to gi.e to thee Affections like thine own, The hollow, honied voice of praise Whose melody is thine, Can yield no note of deeper lays For which the gifted pine; Then hide thy vacant heart beneath A veil of careless glee, Omce. and the rod—earth cannot fill Its aching agony ; aA-—on. 1 iom lvut here to win such love As thou conldst die to give— Yot fumt mg falter not, proud soul; To battle is to live. This world, which in thy pilgrimage, II ,s seemed so loth to bless. Or spare one little draught of love In truth and tenderness, _ To cool with its delicious drops Thy irenzied r..v..,-druum, Or Boothe thine agonizing thirst' With pure affections stream— Will give 'hee vain, regretful tears, (How fruitless then and wild!) When He.von’fl home has sheltered o'or Its bright, neglected child! Editorial Correspondence, No. 2. The Fortifications at Bowling Green, Ky.—Review of the Troops by Gens. Johnson and Buckner —Pleasant Scenes and “ extra ” Pleasant people at Nashville, <5'C. Dear old “Crusader: In our former despatch to you from the ‘t seat of war,” we think wo mentioned the virtuous effort — ll an eflort’ which, by the way would h ive satisfied even the redoubtable Mrs. Chick herself—which we set ourself towards making to regain the lost strength, flesh, and bloom, for which we particularly mourned.— Well, we had by the time that was written for gotten all about it, and were fast returning to “pristine vigor,” not to say “primeval beau ty,” without “an effort” of any sort. We had “let ourself go” completely. On the morning of the -Oth our party “rose from its untroubled sleep” as the poet expresses it, to find that a brilliant day had dawned upon us, the light and glory ol which penetrated, even to that baokest of back apartments where it had been our lot for some hours to sleep, like “Pearls under Oman's green water,” or something in the same poetic style. At home, this was Sun day, and had we been there, we doubtless would have found it, and like the respectable, well-behaved people that we were, jnd, we may add, are—have duly observed it. We juud nothing of the kind at Bowling Green, howostuv and were especially informed by one of the officers that in that particular vicinity, “ there was to be no more Sunday until further orders.” Resigning ourselves to our fate, and solacing ourselves with the reflection that “in Rome we must do as Rome does,” or at least that in this instance our “ breaking the Sab bath” was a “ military necessity," we set for ward in the usual sty le of procession, on a vis it to the fortifications on Raker s Hill. Hav ing had no butter for breakfast; one of those “accidents in well regulated families which will insist on happening sometimes, and which our kindest of hosts seemed greatly to deplore, we were in a very proper state of mind to ap preciate Iho landscape around U3 which was luxuriously “buttered with sunshine,” aj some gastronomically inclined individual hath it It was Nature’s Pentecostal season, when the liill-tops wear the gorgeous drapery of holy altars, and the trees bear upon their foroheads a glow of gold and crimson, as of old the brows of the apostles were crowned with living “tongues of flame.” Frost, the beautificr, had begun his work, tinting the landscape with a hectic splendor ; the fatal bloom which he ralds to our enchanted Senses the coming of Decay. But, we set out to view the fortifications on Baker’s Ilill—let us pursue that laudable in tention. A drive of somo fifteen or twenty minutes brought us to the spot to be honored DEVOTED TO LITERATURE, TEMPERANCE AND MORAL EXCELLENCE. A.tlanta, Q-a., Thursday Alornipg, aSTovember 28, 1861. with an examination, and we must do tbe pa rapets, glacis, lunette &c., &e., tbe justice to ay that we don’t believe they could possibly have appeared to better advantage if they had put on “their Sundays” for our especial bene fit. Even the ditches looked as if they were “expecting company,” but yawned very grave ly in our faces when they found we were only a few Tennesseans; they were evidently ex pecting visitors from the other side, and would have “bristled up” with a sharp welcome had we been a regiment or so of Uoueseau’s forces instead. We must confess however, that the wind upon those heights was not upon its “good behavior ” upon that interesting occas ion, and like a spoiled child i’ exhibited its naughty ways when for its own credit’s sake it ought io have been particularly “good.” It blew, arid blew, without the slightest regard to punctuation of any serf, and ended by making us a present of a very severe cold. .Vem. If there’s one thing more than another that effec tually snuffs out our self-respect, it is it eold in the head.) Such atrocious conduct we were totally unprepared for, and having ascertained from personal observation that notwithstand ing the very effective blockade, those banks ttt Baker’s Hill would doubtless be able to meet any demands upon them; able at least to hon or the enemy’s draft with a cheek —we, like the king of France with his fanmus I rty thousand, who had “ inarched up the hillvery decent ly “ marched down again.” On the evening of the same day we w.ere present at a review of a portion of the troops, by Gens. Johnson and Buckner. It was truly an exciting hour. Nine regiments of infanty were upon the field, together with two bodies of artillery and one of cavalry. Ladies and children in carriages, gentlemen on horseback and on foot thronged the ways loading to tho parade ground, and drew up along the line where sentinels, and here and there a banner, said as plainly as they could speak—“ Hitherto, but no further.”— Grand music floated over the gentle swells, and trembled along the tall grass that rippled over the field, like t he undulations of an emerald sea. The sunlight glanced and flashed back from thousands of bayonets; and tho deep-toned word of command rose above the rattle of arms, the crashing of the “ Marsellaisc,” and the thunder of the impatient drums. Far over the field the artillery gleamed crimson, a thun derbolt of war, red-hot, and ready to be launched upon the foe ; while the sunlight up on the cannon and howitzers, those little, “dogs of war” recalled to mind the Napo leonic sentirueut that “ God is on the side of tho heaviest artillery.” Among the troops that filed past, slinking the earth with their martial tread, were two regiments of Ken tuckians, splendid bodies of men, finely armed and equipped, and looking as if it would b' quite a relief to them to be called upon to use those glittering bayonets, not that they bore anybody any ill -will particularly, but just be cause they were ready for tlie command “Go in boys!” and they thought it time they were “trying it on.” We couldn’t but think that their practice like that of some excellent, phys cians, wouid most probably be attended with very imdJott UauU.s. As they swept by our position, a gentlemen of our party nnaWo to restrain his enthusiasm cried out, “Three times three for oldlv-nlucky ! We cant loss her, and we wont!” and the echo from our heart, of hearts went upin unison—“ God bless of Ken lucky ! We had ample time to make a “rcconnois ance in force ” of the military leaders as they rode up and down the lines, attended by their staff-officers. Using our eyes as mortars we bombarded them continually, and if anybody doubts their ability to “ stand fire ” we hereby enter a voucher for them in this regard; they stood our shelling gallantly, and “nobody hurt ” so far as heard from up to this date.— Gen. Johnson’s appearance on horseback is magnificent. Os a commanding mien and per fect military bearing, his presence is such as to send a thrill to the bosom of the soldier, rous ing him to the certainty of groat deeds toeome. Tali, stately, and perfectly erect, he sat hi gray charger with a conscious dignity—the broad-chested, eagle-eyed, and martial-browed leader. Gen Buckner who seems to be a much smallerman, is vet fully six feet in height, with a well-knit frame, though sparely built—the more graceful and actix eof llie two. His milita ry genius is unquestioned—his social qualifica tions said to be of the most fascinating char acter, while his ability as a writer is fully es tablished. To quote the words of another, he is “the happy embodiment 0 f a warrior iu the field, a sage adviser in council, and a modest gentleman in the most refined and elevated so ciety.’ 1 He bears a military name—Simon Bol var—is a native Kmtuckiin, and a relative ol Ex-Gov. Morehead, now an inmate of Fort Lafayette, the Bastile of “Le Grand Monar que,” Abraham the First. Gen Buckner is doubtless eminently calculated to command the Southern phalanx, where Liberty stands forth to encounter the mailed Goliah of Despotism. Judging from appearances, which arc said to be deceitful, it is true, we should imagine that Gen. Buckner stands to Gen. Johnson, some what in Ihe same light that Saladin did to Co eur de Leon. As he rode down the glittering files, we involuntarily thought of the battle hour, when he would dash along the line-, and with his gleaming eye light up the battle-fires in thousand other eyes, as when the Fiery Cross swept over Scotia's vales, and every hill top flashed forth an answering beacon .’ During our brief visit to Bowling Green we were very favorably impressed with the man ner in which the Southern troops conducted themselves. We have heard it remarked of a celebrated lady that she was never known to see or know anything unpleasant. She looked upon the sunny side of every question, and when the veil was lifted from the darkerphases she turned to a contemplation of her white kids, and dressed for the Opera. As it was not exactly the Operatic season in Bowling Green at the time of our visit, we trust that no one will accuse us of a determination to pur sue the same course, when we say that though it is very likely we the sonny side of camp life, we are ohjaged lo confess that we never saw ajolliet ftftking set of fellows in our lifetime, than tlffiSo same soldier boys.— Their deportment, fur as we were able to judge, was uniformly that of gentlemen, ajul we be.ieve that no country has ever furnished a soldiery more distinguished for the best, traits of human character. We accidentally over heard some of Hardee’s men who bad jufct come in ouo evening, congratulating them selves that they now were about to Gght for, and in a civilized country.” “And oh! by the way, boys,” says one, “won't we walk into the fine, beef and mutton which they keep in oid Kentuok “To be sure George,” cried another,'’ and then by Jove, we ean got ho look at alodv now and (lien.” The earnestness and “vim with which he said it amused us “ iutirely,” as our Hibernian friends have it. And it i9 hut just to the ladies that our sol diers should regard it as a privilege to “ look at ” them, for wherever they go amid the camps their presence proves a blessing. Tho sick and wounded are nursed, andeheered: lone liness, and that direst of maladies “homesick ness,” are alleviated by their presence, while they are almost sure to come ns lovely messen gers, bearing messages from home, end freight led with a Uiousaud articles of comfort pre pared by the kind hands of wives, mothers, sisters, and sweethearts Were it not for those loving, never-forgetting hearts at home, which keep the tireless fingers ever in motion, our soldiery would indeed have cause to bewail tho ordeal of suffering through which the winter < f sixty-one is calling them to pass. With such an army in her midst w« do not see how Kentucky can long lend her car to the Culminations of the North. A portion of her citizens toll us that they still lovo the Union— the Constitution, and the old flag.” Well so did we. Perhaps, as many a woman has done before us, we loved—“ not wisely, but too well.” It was the hardest struggle of our life time to give it up—like a “sharp sword, dividing body and spirit.” We can therefore sympathize with Kentucky for we too loved the dead Union while there was one breath of vitality left it, nay, wo fear that we even embraced it with idolatrous arms, when it was a clay-cold corpse, falling rapidly away into dust and ashes. But there is nothing of vital ity left now for even the most sanguine of Kentucky’s sons to hang a hope Upon ” Uis a death so complete that it is beyond il re-".r rectien. In thinking of this we are often re minded of an old gentleman we met in tho s'reet some weeks since. A little news-boy ran up to liim, offering a handful of fresh pa pers. “Eh! what have you got there my eel?” inquired the old man. “Gar tty sir ; Richmend Dispatch sir, Union .t American.” '.*• Pouh ' boy, look sharp and keep to the truth, there isn't any such thing now as a Union or an American and the old gentleman stumped off without making an investment in the newspa porial line. Still, the Union was, and Ken tucky loved it. Our only cause of surpri e when viewing her course is that Blie has no! by this time, trampled down all this old lovo under her feet, and turned at bay upon her dtspmltM*. The studied system of deception which has been practiced upon her lronoet oil izens by tho Federal Administration, ought long ere this, to liavo changed her feelings of affection to gall and wormword. Jlow can Kentucky, whose very name has been so long 1 he synonym of honor and bravery, fraternize with a policy, or submit to a Government whose whole course has been one of profound cun ning and relentless perfidy; and which has been as basely cowardly as it. was deeply treacherous ? Surely her men must bo stun ned as by a mighty blow. Even Crittenden sat sileut when it was Tauntingly announced that it mattered not to the North which tide Kentucky espoused ; and thousands of her cit izens swallowed the insult when it was con temptuously sneered that the North had as lief have her slaves as her freemen to light its battles. This was the day of her fancied pow er, and Kentucky was not needed then. But soon a cry came up from tho bloody plains of Springfielu and Manassas, and the grand old State which had been repulsed, and scorned, was besought, cajoled, deceived, in order to obtain or compel her to lend her aid in an un natural, and most, unholy war. She has been wronged and reviled by the North, let not u? } her Southern sisters follow their example.— Her loyalty, oucc so noble, is like the deep love of woman, it cannot be severed at a single blow even by the iron arm of wrong, let us bear with her, and bide the limn, “nev er weary of well doiug ; never doubU'ul of the end.” We “ have faith ” in her still—alia will yet stand forth to vindicate the memory of her heroic fathers, ihe manhood of her sons, the truth and honor of her women, the glorious promise of her children. Though she may re ceive anew tho sacrament of suffering, and win again under a second crimson baptism the title of “ Tho dark and bloody ground,” she will one day stand forth as a fair star in the South ern circle —“redeemed, regenerated, and dis enthralled.” Godspeed the day! - Vour pardon, good lvniglit of the Cross! you are, it seems, a literary gentleman, and therefore these political reflections being en tirely out of your line, may not be fully and entirely appreciated by you and yours. You must however remember that we individually, were none of your “ three months Pennsylvan ia volunteers”—we were “enlisted for the war,” —so long as we staid in Bowling Green, —and as a natural consequence theso subjeels struck “ us military mon,” with iutense force. Now, having apologised, we propose to “ get on” again. We left the “seat of war” at six in the morning, an hour at, which candor cuuipetls us, to state that the resources of any person or place whatever appear to 113 to be singularly undeveloped - more especially if one happous to set out as we did, on a chilly morning, in a crowded omnibus, and without breakfast. Wo confide even to recklessness in our powers of endurance, but our troublesome head having its full cargo of cold aboard, aeh- od most energetically—the poultice of towel and water which we had applied over night seeding ;<> have augmented, instead of lessen ing the evii. But fiddlestioa ! what's a head aehfe ? a “mere matter of moonshine” to the heart \tshe which we dure say some of our yojtfg ladies carried away, if indeed, they did uotaeive their hearts behind them entirely.— Ons of them, if she had forgotten her heart, haijuot forgotten her hair, or at least the said hair itself would not allow us to forget to ad mi"C i . It was short moreover, and curled all over her fairy head like a boy’s, only’ more so,” a.d ■ e,. . -„ot help wishing oh ! host of Cvrs.alers, that your excellent correspondent “ M.vuia ' aad been “ there to see " it. Had present she would at onco have given in-t a”our opinion as to the beautifying ef iec T of “short hair for ladies.” “Maria” seems to tiiink short hair and “strong-minded ness” synonymous terms, or at least her im pression is that they “hunt in couples.” Now from a long personal experience we can assure this pleasant lady Unit such is not. necessarily the oese at all times. We, for instance, wear our hair short, and we have never “ made a profession ”of “ strong iniudedness on the Contrary all our friends and relations will bear us out :n the assertion that we are “essentially feminine,” and incorrigibly feeble-minded ; as every worn in who expects to do her duty, and take heir true position in the social scale ought of necessity to be(!) Quoting the Scripture* on us v.as rather severe in “Maria”—but then, af ter all wo like her just as well as if site hadn't “dtm'f.'us so." Bt. Paul was good authority in regard to la dies adornments no doubt—nevertheless we laughed considerably the other day when we heard a lady piquantly remark that she found it,quite impossible in these hard times to fol low his teachings; she was obliged, she aver red, to have her abundant tresses out short, as she wa- ruining her husband laying in sup plies of dressing-combs, moelt due boeuf, and hair-pins ! The apostle, were he living at this degenerate day would doubtless, in view of the necessity of “ retrenchment and reform," countermand his order. And apropos of this subject, \v never hear of this apostolic senti mentthnt we don’t think—very irreverently we couth —of the advertisement of e pomade vender which we read “once upon a time,” and which ran, if we remember rightly, some thing after this style of oratory— -I, - Uairisa glory to woman,” said Pawl, Au<! nil will assent to tho pious quotation; IV ivo it then Imlioa—your glory will fall IV. •• s you make use of Jules Hanoi’s preparation.” But enough of this, too much in fact, if the public expect us to be perfectly candid. To our own ‘-cropped and crispy locks” however, •,?* fora “taking down” Which we had administered to us on the train, eomiiig dovn. AT young lady passenger to whom in the crowded state of affairs we had, in the multiplicity of our generosity, given up the seat of our “liege *mnl” and much bet i ter half”—turned ou to ho of ttif investigating mind, and resolved to iiud us out or perish in the attempt. Accordingly she opened upon us an entire arsenal of interrogatories, sabroing us every other moment with an? We bore up wonderfully under it for the reason that she was very pretty and had a pair of the loveiest blue eyes in the world, in wKRrn we .-cmi-oßcasion ally, when wo had a moment’s breathing-space, | “took time by the forelock,” and lost oursolves. All went on admirably until she remarked, ‘•you have been lately married, madam.”— “Yes,” we replied, innocently enough, “about nine years since.” Those blue eyes opened widely, and the red lips below them said doubtingly—“ Why now, that can’t be so, if you hadn’t mentioned your husband when you gave me this seat, I should have thought you were a young lady.” A "young lady ” in deed! Now our ambition don’t lie in that way. Doubtless for this classification we were ex pected to become a “perrennial fountain of pellucid gratitude”—nevertheless such was not the fact We fl utter ourselves, and have for some time past been similarly .flattered by a number of espeeia! agents engaged for that purpose at high salaries, that we are not a young lady.” We entertain ferocious ideas of prosperity, and are committed to the belief that no woman has any right to ap pear young, who isn't, consequently “ phancy our pheelinks.” We have always advooated the doctrine that married ladies should, so. soon as the houeymoon has passed, look as dis enchanting as possible, talk loud and a great deal of it, and take on a perfectly independent air, such as shall suy to the world unmistakca bly, “I’m married.” Such being our belief we imagined that we, individually were a South ern matron, combining tho dignity of half a dozen State legislatures iu our own especial countenance. -Hut to bo on the iinincnt eve of being taken, or rather mio-takcn for a “young lady” was a wet blnukot to our pre conceived ideas of ourself, not to be tolerated. Taken for a miss— a single one at that, with gen eral designs on tho opposite sex, and willing to launch into matrimony as soon as she could find somebody to “ lead her to the altar,” as the novelists express it, was a little too much for our intense matronly proolivities. To be married wo all know is the chief end of wo man’s existence ; then to be taken for a “child of a postponed destiny,” with an implied de lay iu the fulfillment of our “mission why it was simply ridiculous, not to say intensely ag gravating Did we vouchsafe a reply ? there’s the question. Verily we shook our combined hat, and feathers negatively, and as far as lay in our united power on a rail-car, looked “unut terable things.” and “dried up” that, conversa tion. It would afford us ospecial gratification to commuuieate to thee oh ! kuightlyjialudin, the pleasant scenes which occupied us duringa three days sojourn iu the “City of Rocks,” of meetings with old ft tends and tho forming of new acquaintances—of deligtful drives to ma ny of the finest mansions in thojvicinity—of evenings spent amid bloom and beauty, with laughter and song ; . but our timeand space was “small by degrees and beautifully less,” and VOL XXYL-NEW SKEIES VOL. VI. NO. TERMS : per nnmun, in advance these things may not be. Os one V m only wili wc now tell thee —a h->:n-', mode tranquil and peaceful, seeming filled to overflowing with that “loving kindness” which i- V ver ;«1 God’s other works.* and tint p• v which passeth all understandin-r * We li ever considered it vague compliment, to call woman an gei, ye* in this beautiful home, woman is and >ing th< work of angels, she is a mess-nger from ii . n to the fireside which h» :* pv-eneo cie • ml blesses. We saw there many !:v • pi. iim*s of affection and beauty wh a ver* • •«';. v., and times more value than tho “glorith- l *-.**i vasses” which grace the walls <». man;, • < i m; ly mansion : and we .-aw one : picture which iived,only upon paper wide vw m l fain have borne away with us 1 v - cn?u'.*d “ Wc three,” and a copy of it has f -Hewed us > our “ ain ingle side.” —for which we lo hereby tender our most earnest thanks. May 1! - v •?. long .continue to bless this happy home—a true type of the better home which aw .1! - in a brighter clime. Among the many interesting acquaintance, which it was our good fortune to make wa that of Mrs. Jane T. H. Cross, one of the no blest of “ Mary Forest’s women < f the South ” and whose name wc are happy to say stands upon your liv of corres pondents. Mrs. Cross i a nr . paring person, possessing h face expressve of sweet calmness, and gentle dignity ; her soft brown eyes are full of light and tendernas, and her manucr is beautiful in its qufct simplicity and perfect repose. We can, we think give our im pressions of her in a '.ingle sentence, viz.. at the first touch of her hand we felt that .we bad clasped fingers with a friend. It was on intui lion, but experience will, w»> think, bear is on* iu it. But, on this, the third evening, wo bade adieu to tho other members of our pleasant party. Seldom have we felt so sadly at the prospect of the breaking up of a pleasure trip, rendered a pleasure indeed, by tho genial companion;-hip of friends. Smiles and sunshine seemed to be in the gift of our “Pioneer,’ and wc now mourned the absencoof the “god fain ” who- ' lips dropped pearls of kindnes and love. Our circle is broken, and we alone. V«> fVei like a ring from which the diamonds have suddenly dropped away: the pure circlet of abiding friendship is biill there, bur there i*» less ol light uiul brilliancy, and beauty—the iirob and the sparkle arc gone ! Wo often think in. w many warm good friends there may bo wan ing for us in this world, c'-üb* w hut find them out and know them!” Oh ! jes, (hi world is full of buried kin llim • and. beauty which, when touched by the genial snub ’-tuis blush brightiy into blooup b.aicd j- t they, waiting only the divining-. ■ • i uo an preoiativo spirit to e;F ‘ben • ' r \'- ' tiful resurrection! But, brave old “ Crusader,” we leave tlik goodly city on to-morrow morning, having an engagement for the evening beside, so fare you well for the present, and believe us as ever. Yout s oordially, L. Y F. Nashville, Oct. ”3, 18(51. On tire EJtymolojsy of XI rrmbttg. The London “Welcome Guet” thus dismiss es that popular sunjoct—humbug : A great many regardless theories hit7e been ventilated from time to time about the origin of this familiar term. The most popular of these is that which ascribes it to a corruption of the word Hamburg, in which city, during some continental campaign, so many canards were fabricated relative .0 the fortunes of the rival forces, that at length it is said it became customary, when expres.-ing incredulity at any statement, to remark, “That is from Ham burg," or, “That, is from Hamburg.” But, se non c vero erben trooitfo , as the Itali ans say ; if not correct, this derivation is very well in vented, a phrase which may likewise be ap plied to the hypothesis advocated by Scotland for its origin. There was, as the story goes, in “ auld lang syne,” a family called Bogne. or Boag, in Berwickshire, a daughter of which i married a son of Hume, whose representatives j are still in existence. In time, in default of male issue, the Bogne estate reverted to one 1 Geordie Hume, who was popularly called: “ Hume of the Bogne,” o>- “ Aum 0’ the Bug,” .the name of Bogne being thus pronounced in that district of Scotland then .called “The Mcarus.” This worthy so successfully rival led Baron Munchausen iu his relations of the marvellous, that at length any extraordinary averment iu the locality was treated as “just ahum of the bug,” afterwards contracted to humbug. It is well known that the coiuogfe i sued by James 11. from the Dublin Min’ was composed of such worthless materials that William T. 1., shortly after the battle of Boyne, ordered the crowns and half crowns to be legally recog nized merely as pence and half pence. This base mo’-al was known to tho Irish as aim bog, pronounced 00m bug, and in the course of trade such phrases at “ that’s a piece of aim bug, Ac.,” were frequent, and are thought by many to have suggested humbug. Le=t Ire land’s claim to the'paternity of tho Word should be disputed, one enthusiastic etymolo gist has traced it to a Monsieur Humbug, a famous I’arisian maitre de dense, who flourished in Capel street, Dublin, iu the year 1777, and whose advertisements appeared in n'l the jour nals of the period. After ali, notwithstanding the r rammblanv of some of the preceding hypothesis, the true course of tiie word is simple enough. Fur mcrly, nt, public places,'to hum was a popular mode of expressinghipprob.ition and applause. We find the following notice o! the habit in Harrison’s “State Trials of the jlleign 01 (Here the spectators hummed.) 1, LordjChief Bacon: “Gentleman, his humming is not all becoming 'the gravity of this oourt. It is more fitting lor a stage play than for a court of justice.” Johnson also, iu his “ Life of Sprat,” thus alludes to it: “ There prevailed in thoso days so indecent custom, when t lie preacher touch ed any favorite topic in a manner thatdelight c i hi- at.dience v the approbation was expressed by ■ loud ih'U:, continued in proportion to f be;r /. al or pleasure. When Barnes preached i ot hi- congregation hummed so loudly ii!! ‘ o long that he sat down to enjoy it, and rubbed lii face with his handkerchief. When Spru preached he likewise was honored with the like animating hum ; but ho stretched out his hand to t • congregation and cried, ‘Peace, peace; l pray you, p ace.’” The word was hence extended lo imply cajoling, flattery, &o. t ns appears by the following distitch from Brookes : • r. Atit . by ancient tradition \v<? liud, H ! Utt.iHv whole race* of ir.aMkiud.'’ 1 Grose’s “Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue,’ to hum means to deceive, in which sense ii is a's.» employed by Peter Pindar : “Pod many u trope from bayonet and drum Hi' threatened; but behold ! 'twos a'.l a bum.” The word hug is of Leltic origin, and signi fies some terrific spectre or goblin. Frequent • winces of its by some of the most dis tinguisked authors might be adduced. In his ! “ Defence of the Apoliogie,” Jewel writes: “ Yet were they but fools and maddle menne, to tiiink that either so mighty a prince could be feared with images and rattles.” Thus, too Sh.ikspeare in the “Taming of the Shrew : •■ Tu-.’i: lush : fear buy* with bug*." Bug i* the root of the Scotch bugle, and is probably identical with the Icelandic puki natus. Two other familiar express ions hav also a connection with the word. ■ A illy children dare not bond their eye, Where Ih arc told strange bugboaros haunt th# |d-I’ AUUV.X : (lODFDKT OF BoCIU/>S. Jtiiky, my lore, nay don’t you err , TaUo yon abroad I indeed, not I, IV*r all tho bußoboos to fright ye.” Lloid : ChitCbat. To humbug is, consequently, literally to de < eive with imaginary spirits or appearances; ! but il will be obvious how simply and yet, withal, variously the meaning may be ampli fied. \t any.rate, as Brookes in his “Epilo gue- on Humbugging,” has observed : • O; all trades and arts in repute of oppreo#ion liuinbngging U held the moat ancient profeealou. l> i\i nations iiud parties and State p«ditician*, ! Prim shopkeeper: jobbers, smooth lawyers, physicians, i »f Av.-rth and of wisdom the trial uiul test i : ii !; ye. my friend- ! —who shall bumbuß tho best." <>’•] graveful contributor, “Olara,” asks “Where :ho bover-age God intended for ; man and beautifully answers her own ques i lion in the following lines: ’I i buieting from tin'mountain sjde, ’Tis gushing clour a.id free— The pure ewoet beverage God hath brewed, *\ t.hov-Wkfß mac :-r the * !wt in thcsiuiuierioi;, flmoky still, i . Whence poison 0119 vapors line; llut in tho green and grassy dolls, The precious essence lies. There crystal fountains murmur low, There sings th>» tiny rill, A u rushing, in its beauty, from Tno rock and vino-clad hill. Tie sporting in the cataract’s foam, ’Tis dancing in the storm; It f ilds a pure white mantle round The cold earth’s wintry form. j * Ti < sleeping in tho glazier deep, beneath tho midnight moon; Aud it tiembDs in tho dew-drop, as - i4bathes the rose of June. I t ’.sparkles in the seraph-zone, Th it spans tho azure skies; ’Tis woven with the sunbeams, In h thousand brilliant dies. ’Tis giving health* and beauty still, To every living thing; No murder and no madness will That pricelo-s boyerage bring. j No blood defiles its purity; No orphan’s tears are there; No drunkard curses it in death, With accents of despair. ltut. pure and sweet, Mis welling up, Beneath the clear bluo Heaven, Tbe pledge of lovo and happiness, That God t > man has givon. ! Nashville, Tenx. For the Crusader. To-Morrow. P.V MILLIE MAYFIELD. What a world of gloom and glory, What a web of ioy and sorrow, Night throws from her shuttle hoary, Tn the loom that weaves the morrow. Hopes forever on tho wing To that land of Promise flying—- Shadowy fingers beckoning Where its honied fruit is lrlng. | AncLa tangled skein we over i Giro its willing hands to ravel-- I Good resolve and pure endeavor Still nnto its portals travel; Weakness over whispering, “Walt, We from Time a day will borrow”— But, alas ! how oft “ too late ” Tho duty banished to tho morrow Waiting, waiting for the morrow | While to-day unheoded passes, Always satisfied to borrow j Futurity’s prospective glasses: Thus wo go from youth to age, All unmindful of the present; For tho days “ to como ” ongago Alike the pauper, prince 'and peasant. Ah ! that morrow for the many Ne'er may dawu upon Life’s ocean Scarce a bubble hreakZjkOf any Rising in the wild commotion, But a life the tide still swells Onward to the glorious Giver, Where souls are crowned with asphodels Beside tho groat eternal river! i Time's a linked chain of morrows Leading on to tho immortal l And each day s well-battled sorrows Are our purports at that portal. Then to-day alone is ours To temper joy aud hallow sorrow, , That we may wear a crown of flowers When Death's night breaks a glorious morrow Perhaps men are tile most imitative animals in all the world of nature. Only one ass spoke like a man, but thousands of men are daily ) talking like donkeys.