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92 The Southern Field and Flrealde n rcßuuutß mn satoedat. TEEMS—IIOO A year- Invariably in advance. All Postmasters are authorized agents. CLUB BATES— Six Copies |IO,OO. Ten Copies *ls. Twenty Copies *45. TkAvnixuro Agent.—John L. Stockton, of this city. Is General Travelling Agent for Tat Southern Field A!fD FIRESIDI. Bond To Subscribers.—lt will be impossible to send receipts, in future, to each snbscriber, owing to the large number of subscriptions coming in daily. The receipt of The Somonis Field ahd Fireside, after the money ie remitted,' will be evidence to each sub scriber that bis money has been received and his name l duly entered on the mall-book. Sense tißEßS living at any point on the route of Adahs' Express Coxpaxt, and who prefer for safety this me dium, can inclose their enbecrlptlons In a stamped envelope and forward by the Express, at oar cost. Agents and Postmasters sending ns remittances for subscribers will be allowed 10 per cent, upon all re newals, and the same terms as heretofore upon all new subscriptions Teems To Newb-Deai.rr«.—This paper is mailed to news-dealers at the rate of two dollars and fifty cents per one hundred copies. Bank Botes, current In the State from which they are sent, received at par at this office. SUBSCRIBERS tO THE SOUTHERN FIELD AND FIEESIDE desiring a change of address, will please bear in mind to state particularly the Dame of the last Post Office, to which their paper has been regularly sent, as well as that to which they order the change to be made Tbe change of Address can not be effected unless the • names of Doth poet-offices be given. Correspondents, literary and other, will please take notice that all business communications to the office of Tin Southern Field and Fireside should be addressed to Mr. James Gardner, proprietor; and all Literary, Agricultural and Horticultural comma nlcatlons to the respective editors by name. Kates op Advertising.— One Dollar for Ton Linos or less, for each insertion. Over Ten Lines, Ten cents per line for each Insertion. LITERARY. JNO. H. THOMPSON, Editor. AUGUST 11, 1860. CLUB KATES, We Invite attention to the Clnb Bates of this paper, which will be found In the appropriate place. We re peat them here, and ask the friends of Southern Litera ture and Agricultural improvement to exert themselvos to give The Field and Fireside a more extended dr-1 eolation: ' For Five Copies SIO,OO Ten do 15.00 Twenty ; 25.00 e FRENCH VIEW 07 AMERICAN MARRIAGES. Foreign critic* are fond of asserting that Americans sin grievously in writing of the insti tutions, the popular feeling, the maimers and customs of other nations -of which they know little or nothing; and that their assurance is in a direct ratio with their ignorance j so that the less favourable the opportunity the American tourist has had of becoming acquainted with foreign character and habits, the more confident ly will he discuss them. Doubtless there is some truth in this statement, but as regards the flippancy of foreign criticism we must insist that the United States Is “ mote sinned against than sinning.” How many cockneys; before and since Dickens, have run through our‘country and gone baok to enlighten the world with their views of domestio slavery; bow many French » men, the forerunners or followers of M. Leon BeauvaUet, have managed to make the weari some journey from Boston to New Orleans with out yielding to the temptations of razors, hemp, powder or strychnine, and, thus barely escaping suicide, have informed mankind that republi canism ia a dreary failure, and that life in the i New World is wholly incompatible with happi ness or with cmUzatipa) It ware, in the high est degree unreasonable to expeef an English man to comprehend Southern slavery, or a Frenchman, since the death of DeTocqueville, to understand constitutional freedom, but there is another institution- which, [as it obtains in the United States, we should still leBS hope that Mohsieur would discuss with justice or good sense, and that is marriage. And yet M. Au guste Carlier flatters himself that he knows all about marriage in this country, and he has ac cordingly condescended to embody his views on the subjeot in a treatise which is having its run, just at this time, in Paris. Saving and excepting that marriage is sol emnized in both countries,%r the most part, as a religious ceremony, it may be doubted if a wider difference could bo shown between the usages of France and America in any other matter. The obsequious, courtly peer of the Empire, who votes as may please the Imperial will, does not stand in more striking contrast to the independent Senator of the Western Repub • lie, than the gentle fille, whose dress, demean our, movements and emotions are regulated by her mother, to the innocent but despotic belle of the American drawing-room. Before mar riage in the United States, the young lady has the largest liberty, after it, a very restricted sway; before marriage in France she is never seen in society, after it, she reigns the admired beauty of a hundred salons, and receives the homage and adoration of unnumbered gallants. In the United States, the young lady is permit ted to exercise her own choice, in the huge ma jority of cases, in the selection of her husband; in France, this matter is managed altogether by mamma, and no remonstrance on the part of the daughter would change the well considered plans of a manage 4 convsnance. In the United States, the parties sre supposed to entertain some affection for each other, and love as a pare and holy sentiment waits upon the auspicious union; in France—what says Tom Moore? la Franoe, when the heart of a woman sets sail On the ocean of wedlock Its fortune to try," Loye seldom goes far with a vessel so ML Bat just pilots her off, and then bids her good bye. Os course M. Auguste Carlier, recognising this great discrepancy between hisfeduntry and our own in the marriage relation, like a true French man, oonaiders that we are all wrong and should * conform our manner to the French standard. The confidence reposed la girlhood, and the free dom that girls are permitted to enjoy in America, he would break up altogether for parental dis trust and conventual seclusion; the old-fashion ed ideas of true, deep, trustful, absorbing love, Hi ? ■ twm sovskmv mmm xsm vxasssas. as indispensable to the consecration of the con tract, and of the high doties of tbe wife in the hallowed circle of home, he would relinquish as visionary and unjust. We are very much ob liged to M. Auguste Carlier, but we doubt if marriage in the United States would be render ed a happier relation for being adjusted to his views. We graveiy question whether, as a gen eral tiling, it would elevate society, or make it more pleasant, for the wife to love some other gentleman than her husband, and we are not at all prepared to admit that tbe duties and the affections can be innocently separated forever. That marriage is more and more becoming a matter of brokerage, and that Cupid has in too many instances been dethroned by Cupidity, is the worst tendency of the age; but while we cannot wholly prevent instances of matrimonial bargain and sale, we surely may decline making tbe contract, in its formation and ratification, a pure affair of business, to be conducted by third persons. And so, with all respect for M. Au guste Carlier, we can neither accept him as a reformer on this side of the Atlantic nor regard ■him as an unprejudiced and well-informed critic of American social life, on tbe other. NEW PUBLICATIONS. Christian Benevolence, as illustrated in the Early History of Georgia. A Lecture delivered before the Young Men’s Christian Association of Augusta, Ga., at their Anniversary, Janaary 10,1860, by Rev. C. W. Howard. We are gratified to have it in our power to repay, in some measure, the author of this ad mirable lecture for the gratification he has afford ed us, by bringing its merits to the notice of thousands who did not enjoy the privilege of hearing it when it was originally delivered in Augusta, or afterwards when it was repeated in other cities of Georgia. The author of such a lecture is a public benefactor. We all recol lect what Sallust says of the praise that is due to him, who, not being able himself to act for the republic, records worthily the deeds of oth -1 era. Mr. Howard is entitled to this praise to its fullest extent, and we measure our words when we say that he renders as noble a service to bis State in the unpretending but animated narra tive here set forth, as if he had spoken in her defence on the floor of the Senate in language of undying eloquence, or had erected a monu ment in honour of her greatest hero. Indeed, tbe lecture is a monument, reared in lines of grace and beauty and graven with happy in scriptions, commemorative of the virtues and heroism of Oglethorpe and his compatriots who here laid the foundations of a great and prosper ous Commonwealth. The lecture has been well entitled "Christian Benevolence as Illustrated in the Early History of-Georgia,” for it is a demonstration of the un selfish purposes of the men who adopted for their motto, “ non silt sed aliis Two facts of ttv* jutißM it formhUr hrmtpa out as exemplifying.the leading idea, first, tliat it was with no view of pecuniary reward that the settlement of Georgia was entered upon, and second, that the original immigrants, far lfora being discharged felons, as has been assert ed of them by malicious or ignorant writers, were men of high character, whose sole misfor tune it had been to suffer the cruel penalties then inflicted by the common law of England on insolvent debtors. As poverty in England has always been regarded as the worst of crimesi and at this day the cruellest iusult you can fling at a man in that country is to call beggar, we can readily enough understand how it came about that Georgia was regarded as a penal set tlement in the vilest sense of that term, and yet as Mr. Howard shows, the founders of Georgia were men of high character, whose bankruptcy ought no more to disgrace them than that of ■Robert Morris and James Monroe, two of the most illustrious men of a later period of the Republic. In referring to the inception of the enterprise, Mr. Howard says: It is a curious study to observe the manner in which, in the Providence of God, good is often brought out of evil. The skeptic tells us that there are no special Providences. If it be true that there is no Special Providence, there is certainly no general Providence, and this world is a helpless, erratic machine, driven by its own wild forces and liable at any moment to rush, into ruin. The general Providence is made of the special, or tbo former has no existence. The cruelty of a Loudon jailer induced tbe first step in a series of occurrences which resulted in the establishment of this commonwealth. Such is the mysteryjof causation—such the history of the strange sequenceof events. The most insignificant or improbable causes are often so mysteriously interwoven with distant and general results, that when we attempt to follow the thread of the labyrinth we are bewildered, and constrained to acknowledge that it is an imallible and sleep less Providence alone which can thus compel the wrath of man to praise Him. The enormities practised upon unoffending or unfortunate debtors, under the provisions of the English law, enlisted the sympathies of Ogle thorpe in their behalf. As a result of his de termined philanthropy, this stain was wiped away from the Statute Book, the prison doors were opened, the manacles were struck from the hands of the prisoner, innocent of crime, and he once more breathed the air of freedom. Many of these unhappy men were persons of gentle blood and nurture. In the language of a cotemporary, “many of them were of respect able families, and of liberal, or at least, easy education; some undone by guardians, some by law suits, some by accidents in commerce, some by stocks and hubbies, and some by sure tyship.” These persons, freed from prison, without means or credit, unaccustomed to labour, were still in a condition of deep distress. Their num ber must have been very great, as it was estima ted that 4,000 unfortunate debtors were annual ly thrown into prison in England by their in human creditors. It occurred to Oglethorpe, that, by the aid of the government and private liberality, the condition of these persons might be greatly improved by providing means for their removal to a new country. Other kindred spirits concurred with him, an' 3 **•» territory ly ing to thb south of the Savar.„*i> rivr. was se lected as the fhture home of the destitute. The design grew upon the minds which conceived it. Additional ends were proposed in connection with the original purpose. The projected colony would offer an inviting field of labour for those who found, with difficult*, employment at home. Composed of able u* vjgourous men, it would prove a valuable dsfKai* to the English fron tier. It was designs# t# make it a means of bringing the savage to the knowl edge of tbe true God. was hoped to render it an instrument of sw<%ial wealth, by the de velopment of new industries, impossible in the ungenial climate of England ; and, lastly, an asylum was lobe offered to those in all lands who were persecuted fat conscience sake. As the plan matured,jitbecame necessary that it should be placed in tie hands of a corporate body; and, accordingly; s Board of Trustees was appointed by the crown. AU of these trustees were men of high social position, snd great worth, some of them among the most dis tinguished persons of th* realm. Among them, besides Oglethorpe, ware Yiscount Percival, Baron Digby, Lord Carpenter, James Vernon, the philanthropist Coram, the Earl of Derby, the Earl of Shaftesbury, Lords Tyreonnel, Lim merick, D’Arcy, and Talbot, Earl Bathurst, and Earl of Egmont, the Archbishop of Dublin, the naturalist Hayles, the Meed Dr. Burton, and Sir Jacob do Bouverto,-?®* last mentioned of whom gave to the colony 21,000 or $5,000. Mr. Howard proceeds to render the deserved meed of grateful homage to the “ Christian be nevolence ” of the undertaking, and indulges in some eloquent and striking contrasts presented by the various colonial settlements of the coun try. We quote Ms language: I wish the remarkabfe features of this enter prise to be impressed upon the Georgia mind. I do not think that it is rightly appreciated. Does History afford a parallel to it ? If so, when and where ? in what age, and in what country ? Christian Missions, those he roic manifestations of the spirit of the Gospel, are conducted upon principles, and designed for ends purely religious. Ccfionizatiou has been common in all ages, but always for the aggran dizement of tbe colonizing State. The founding of Georgia is an exception, even in the history of American colonisation. When the “ May flower " reached the Shore of Plymouth, it bore men who sought for the twelves a shelter in the wilderness from persecution at home. When Hudson landed at New York, he was prosecuting a venture of trade. When Penn, good and pure as he was, boughj land from the Indians, it was for himself, the “ Quaker King.” When Lord Baltimore founded Maryland, the country was assigned to him as absolute lord and proprietary, and to hig hereditary successors. When Virginia was colonized, it was with the expectation of finding gold. When Sayle made tho first effective settlement in South Car olina, the chief revenue of the colony was to ac crue to the Landgraves, created under “Locke's Constitutions.” . When tbe Huguenots, (that noble race of men, among whom the elegant refinements of life the end dignity of unbending principle were, perhaps, more graoefully united than in any other race *f which history speaks, and to whom virtue seems so natural that it is said that at this remote period not one of their numerous descendants ia thia r', e ‘ BPr6fei-.ooun try has been convicted of a c™unal offeree.) — when the. Huguenots fled t J . *>utli Carolina, it in fromthelmliane^^s(|lK«idhonourable treaty. I may be to digress tor a mo ment to dwell upon the history of our connec tion with this race which has melted away from among us. It is a source of honest pleasure to reflect that the early association of the Indians with the white man in Georgia produced a strong attachment upon the part of the former to the latter. It is said that the Indian chief who mot Sir Walter Raleigh, retained a recollec tion so grateful of the distinguished voyager, that he was buried at Savannah, according to his own request “on the spot where he tatted with that great and good man." And tbe ven erable Tomochichi, having lived out nearly a century—having proved the truthful friendship of the Georgians, and finding his end approach ing, made the same request: "Bury me,” said the dying chief, “bury me among my white friends in Savannah." Hjs body brought to the city, was met at the waters’ edge by the Gener al, by the magistrates and people, and, attended by a concourse of Indians, it was reverently placed in the grave in Percival Square, minute guns from the Battery attesting that these were the obsequies of a hero. Not content with se curing the friendship of the Indians in the vi cinity of Savannah, and anxious to extend the beneficial designs of the colony, Oglethorpe de termined to meet the assembled tribes at Coweta. It was the month of August. You who are familiar with the climate and the intervening country, will appreciate the hard ships of the journey from Savannah to Fort Mitchell, at that season of the year, and in the then unbroken wildernees. You will learn the intense desire of this remarkable man to fulfil his high mission. His purpose was gained, and the friendship of the Indians secured by a trea ty faithfully observed. And it has been ever thus in Georgia history. With the exception, at times, of individual and uncontrollable ex cesses, the State may look baok with proud sat isfaction upon its Indian relations. It has ever faithfully observed its treaties with the weaker red man; and I may add, ever calmly, fearless ly, successfully maintained them when assailed by faction or fanaticism, or the illegitimate ex ercise of Federal power. Yet we have been charged with cruelty to the Indians, and chiefly by the citizens of that State in which, after ex terminating by fire and sword his whole nation, the son of Philip, the descendant of MassSsoit, the life-long friend of the English, the boy- Prince, the last unfledged eaglet of the eyre, was torn from his steamy cliffs, transported a captive beyond seas, and sold into ignominious bondage in the Bermuda Islands! The history of Georgia is disfigured by the record of no act of barbarity so atrocious! We had marked other passages in this excel lent discourse to set before our readers, but we have, perhaps, already exceeded our proper lim its of quotation from a pamphlet, which is on sale for the benefit of the Association for which it was prepared. One discreditable feet to whicji he refers we may mention, in the hope that something may speedily be done in the matter— the lack of any fitting memorial to show that Oglethorpe is yet held in honourable remem brance. We repeat that Mr. Howard has placed every Georgian in his debt by this lecture, in which we can find but one trivial defect, the ab sence of dates as connected with the beginning and progress of Georgia civilization. Bohaventuee. A Pokm. By J. M. Marsh. Savan nah: Edward J. Purse, Printer. 1860. There It, perhaps, no spot In Amenta more singularly ‘ beautiful than Bonaventure. The solemn and majestic individual trees, with the moss drooping from their ia terlaeed branches; the depth of shade; the noble ave nues, suggesting the origin of Gothic architecture in the pointed, leafy arch above the green isle; the perpetual miserere of the wind blowing through the tops of the live-oaks, mingled with the thonsend little jubilant volees of the birds; the serenity that pervades tee lower spaces of the grounds; the slender, slanting pen cil! of sunlight that &U athwart the sweet gloom of the enclosure —all conspire to affect the visiter with the sense of a rare enjoyment The natural pathos of the extended grove la heightened by the purpose to which It has been dedicated, and an a cemetery Bonaventure ia yet more beautiful, perhaps, than it ever was aa a park. I In all Its aspects, in the early morning, at high noon or In the streaming sunset In storm or calm, under all vi clssitndes of seasons, It appeals powerfully to the poetic mind and makes Its eloquent plea for an interpreter. That Bonaventure will yet be celebrated In Immortal song, we feel well satisfied, but, from a careful perusal of the brochure now under our eye, (of which It is diffi cult to say whether anther or printer baa blundered the mere,) we feel equally well satisfied that It has not found Its proper poet la Mr. MmA. Mr. Marsh’s name la new to as In ItOwatnre, but It re minds ns of ignes fatui , and his Muse Is a veritable Will-o’-the-Wlsp leading through all aorta of wordy thickets to a dark, deep beg of weltering nonsense where the reader is left to find his way out as heat he can. We most do the anther the justice to say, however, that ho gives fair warning of what may be expected of his verses, hy a bit of prose, in tbe »Preface ’, descriptive of tbe place. He says— It is a beautiful spot. Its majestic oaks stretching in long avenues arching overhead, as their branches inter mingle ; and the grey moss pending from the boughs swaying to the breeze, form a pictnre well adapted to the artists pencil or the poets lay—lt Is a spot of which Georgia should be proud, and Savannah cherish. It most be admitted that whoever suffers himself, after reading this sentence, to be led off and bewildered by the muse aforesaid, deserves and will receive but little sympathy. Coming to the poem Itself, we find that the favourite form of expression of the snthor is that of the apos trophe or invocation. Thun he apostrophizes the arches In the very outset To solemn arches, that In grandeur spread Yonr lofty branches o’er the silent dead. Moss-wreathed, with hoarv age yon stand. Grim sentinels o’er this silent land: With reverent awe 1 gaze upon each aisle Charmed by the breezes swell. Chanting natures hymn the while. Thro’ this vast cathedral— It fills my soul with love—l bow my head ’Neath the temple—anil tbe music of the dead. There Is s little obscurity here, dne to an apparent In stinctive aversion on the part of the author or printer to the nse of the possessive ease, bat supplying this In “breeze's swell” and “nature’s hymn,” all Is not made clear; for we are not quite certain whether It ts the poet himself or the aisle that Is charmed snd begins chant ing ; but we pass on to darker mysteries, and Men find the poet invoking tbe shadows of evening. In the man ner following, to wit Ye lengthnlng shades that darkly sleep Upon the troubled bosom of the rushing deep, Still longer grow, as the declining sun In fadeless beauty sleeps. Its distant journey run; Around the gathering folds of night Steals thee from thy quiet rest; The moon sweeps up the heavens, and bright The star-gems deck the river’s breast; From the moon voluptuous each trembling ray Upon deaths temple in quiet splendor lay. We fancy the shades must have been puzzled by this address, but if they comprehended It, we mnst say we do not; we don't know who It was that was stolen from his ut nst. or who stole him; we am just as much in tin dark after the voluptuous moon has swept up the Airevens, and, like a c..jd hons«m«tA thrown the Man dust upon the river; teSeea we csiji,.."ch ; .;' t”r the poet's meaning in the least, and so we leave the stanza with the reader. The poet goes on after this to moralize In bad gram mar on tbe rapid flight of time, and hit meditations among the tombs lead him naturally to the solemn troths of revealed religion, the Christian system aiffi, the light with which tt Sift the world beyond the grave,—high and awful verities, the treatment of which we cannot refer to tn a spirit of proper reverence, and concerning which we can only say that we are thankful our frith In them does not rest upon the vague and vapid verses of this poem. We pass over many pages, In which the dead of Bona venture are apostrophized, and come, with a sense of relief, to a recital of the historic glories of the spot. Here lym exciting stanza Here pealed beneath thy arch the cannon's roar, * Repeating echo swept from shore to shore; The trembling branch, the floating moss With the deep vibrations swaying toss, While ronnd thy misty tops are wreathed Full volumes of the floating cloud. And from each echoing archways breathed The voice of triumph long snd loud, As the conquering soldier from duty done, Receives the victors meed by merit won. We may be pardoned for having inferred from the fore going that Bonaventure had its memories of battle. Not recollecting any engagement fought there, we turned to the note on the final page, indicated by the asterisk at “cannon's roar,” with an eagerness that met a sudden and chilling corrective in this pacific statement * The Chatham Artillery used to target shoot, in the aisles of Bonaventnre. Odds grape shot and bomb shells I but here is the po etic license. The poet could have aald no more of tho most momentous conflict of the Revolution. The “ deep vibrations swgying toss,” (whatever that may be), the “ echoing archways,” the “voice of triumph,” the “ con quering soldier", and the “victor's meed" —these phrases are almost Homeric, bnt to employ them only to describe the Chatham Artillery when they went to “ target shoot ” in the aisles of Bonaventure, reminds us. as Dr. Johnson's Ghost says, of the pious hawkers Os Constantinople who solemnly perambulate her streets, exclaiming “In the name of the Prophet figs 1 ” Bnt Bonaventure has associations of art as well as of the “pride, pomp and circumstance of glorious ” target shooting. It has had its painter as well ss its poet And so we are told that Chained by the magic spell the canvass glows Wraped in the soft midnight's stilled repose. Fit hoar with s master mind's impress to spread, The draped temple and alters of the dead: Genius sweeps along with glittering wings Trailing her essence as she goes, And from her lightest touch around ns springs Her hallowed fires, that burning throws Upward their flashing flames that ne'er expires, Until the soul's consumed by its own raging fires. This remsrkable stanza, In which printer and author Tie with each other in maltreating the English language, has reference to s moonlight view of the cemetery paint ed by Mr. Clenewark. A canvass “chained” and “wraped” mast be worthy of poetic description, but how the “draped temple” and the “alters” could be “ spread ” with “ a master mind's impress," we are at a loss to imagine, and when Genius comes along trailing her essence, snd upsetting all our preconceived Ideas of the singular and plural in nominatives and verba, and finally cansing the soul to be consumed in its own raging fires, we confess ourselves overcome. We assure our readers that the stanzas we have se lected from the poem are neither better nor worse than the rest It may be that the author's intention was to play off a solemn hoax upon the pnblic, and that we have been ‘taken in' by him, or, to use a familiar expression, 1 sold ’ in regarding the peem as a serious performance. Or yet again, we may be all wrong in our estimate of its merits, and the anthor may be a poet “of whom Georgia should be proud and Savannah cherish.” Oar readers shffil decide. The Sand Hills of Jutland. By Hans Christian Andersen, author of the “ Improvisators,* ete. Boston; Ticknor & Fields. » Hans Andersen Is an original. The little stories com prised in (his volume are qnite unlike anybody else’s •tori'* It is not that they are lighted op with that weird Norse tone? which i» so peculiar and so striking to it* effects we hare been made tolerably familiar with the spirit of the Scandinavian literature —but there is a mingling iff the gyim with the glad, of the tragic with the tender, a sort of dear, detighUhl childish absurdity about them, which cannot toil to Impress ua as belonging wholly to the author. Here la a story, short enough to be quoted, which will give the reader an Idea of the vol- THE FEH AND THB INKSTAND. --St The following remark was made in a poet's rerun, as the speaker looked at the inketaed that stood urxntie table: “ It is astonishing all that can come out of that ink stand. What will it produce next? Tea, It is wonder toll” “Bo it is!” exclaimed the Inkstand. “ItUtncsm prehensible! That is what I always aay.” It waa thus the inkstand addressed itself to the pen, and to every thing else that could hear it on the table. “It Is really astonishing all that can come from me! It is almost in credible ! I positively do not know myself what the next production may be, when a person begins to dip in to mo. One drop of me serves for half a side of paper; and what may not then appear upon it ♦ lam certainly something extraordinary. From me proceed all the works of the poets. These animated Iwlng* whom peo ple think they reeognlse these deep feeFng* that gay 1 humour, these charming deacriptioasaf nature - 2 do not understand them myself for I know nothing I*l rat nature; but still it Is all in me. from me have gone forth, and still go forth these warrior hosts, these lovtfy maiden a, these bold knights on morttog steeds, the** droll characters In humbler life. The fact la, however, that Ido not know anything about them myself I as! .■ sure you they are not mv ideas." “ You are right there,'’ replied the pen. “Ton have * few ideas, and do not trouble yourself much with think ing. If you did exert yourself to think, you weald ner relve that yon ought to give something that waa not dry, Ton supply me with the means of committing to rtaner what I have in me; I write with that. It to the nenthat write* Mankind do not doubt that* and must - hare shout as much genius for poetry « an old tak “Tonhave but little experience,” arid the inkstand. “ Ton have scarcely been a week to use, and von are *L ready half worn out. Do you fancy that you are apoe» You arc only » servant; and I have had many ofyour kind before you came-many of the goose femUy, and of English manufacture. I know both quill pens and steel pens. I have had a great many to my service, and I shall have many more SOIL when he, the man who stirs me up, comes and puta down what he takes from me. I should like very much to know what will be T the next thing he will take from me," Late to the evening the poet returned home. He had been at a concert, had heard a celebrated violin player and was quite enchanted with hlf wonderful perform ance. It had been a complete gush of melody that he had drawn from the instrument. Sometimes it t —find like the gentle murmur of s rippling strewn, sometimes like the singing of birds, sometimes like the tempest sweeping through the mighty pine forest* Be fancied he heard his own heart weep, but to the aweet tones that can be heard to a woman's charming voice. It seemed as If not only the strings on the violin made mu sic, but its bridge, its pegs, and Its sounding-board. It was astonishing! The piece htd been t most difficult one; but tt seemed like play —se if the bow were but wandering capriciously over the string* SticH was the appearance of toeility, ttet every one ,might have aup posed he oeuid do it The vtolimsoemed to sound iff ft self the bow to piny of Itself These two seemed to do It aIL QjSa forgot the master who guided them, who - gavo therilße end oral. Ye* they fonpt the master; but the pori thought iff him. He usmed htm, and wrote down hfe thoughts as follows; “How foolish It would be «f the violin and the bow. were they to be vain of their performance! And yet this Is what so often woof tbs human species are. Po et* artist* those who make discovertei In science, mill, tary and naval commanders —we are all proud of ©or selves ;uad yet we small only the instruments in our Lord’s hand* To Him alone be the glory 1 Wehato nothing to arrogate to ourselves." This was what the poet wrote; and he headed it with “The Master and the Instruments." When the Inkstand and the pen were again aidne, the latter said,— “ Well, madam, you heard him read aloud what I had written." “Yet, what I gnveyou to wri|*” said the Inkstand. “It was a hit at you tor your conceit. Strange that you cannot see that peoplemake a fori of you I I gave you lu«tMtnr|t}y cleverly. I confos* tooogh, It m lather “ Writing-stick r*TwfejJßkatind. They both felt assured THBkcy had answered well ■ and it is a pleasant reflection that one has ted. .* <r j reply—one sleeps comfortably after it And they both went to sleep;, bnt the poet could not sleet). His thoughts welled forth like the tones from the violin, murmuring like .pearly rivulet, rushing Uko a storm through the forest. He recognised the feelinge of his own^hesrt— ho perceived the gleam from the everlasting To Him alone be the glory! Tsstsu* Eksrarciiis and Mission ait Labocbs During an Eiokteen Yeare' residence in Eaetern Africa; Together nith Journey, to JaggaUmZ , bora. tkambani, Shoo. and Vkhartum and a Coasting \ ovsge from ilombaa to Cape Delgado By thsKevTDr. / Lxwis Ksarr, Ac. Ac. *c. Tol ton: Tieknor A Field* 1800, ’ '““ The tatter of this well printed volume It-one of tbos. self-sacrificing explorers who bars sought to carry the light of Christianity into the most hidden recesses of Africa, where the night of barbarism has remained un broken for centuries. To all who are Interested in the progress of missions in that continent, his narrative will prove acceptable. It has littl* however, to make it pop ular with the mass of reader* The Eev. Dr. did, In deed, meet with some singular specimens of the hnman race, and underwent many hazardous adventures and saw some stupendous natural object* amongst others the snow-crowned summit of Kilimanjaro, “monarch of African mountain* Father of Nile and Creator of Egypt,” but the style of his deser ptions It tame and unimagin ative, and his work must bo classed rather with the val uable than the agreeable volumes of travel. We have received tbs August number of the Southern Literary Messenger, with the following Table of Con tents: The Marriage of Pocahontas. Bv Wyndham Robert son, Esq.—The Funeral of Hon. M. Brook* of South Carolina Love in the Country. By Kbits The Bain Storm —Fun from North Carolina—The Elver. By John D. Stockton Civil Liberty. By W. S. Grayson Song. Jenny Blossom. By Fannie Fielding—A Week In the Great Smoky Mountain* By K. of Ten nessee—Lines to a Bouquet, Ac. American Institu tion* Letter from Hon. Henry 8. Eandnll Repentance By Aemel—The Knight of Espalion—Editor's Table Notices of New W orks. An excellent number of Mag* of which everybody speaks to terms of praise under its new editor. The leeding article by a distinguished citizen of Blchmond himself s descendant of the lovely Indian princes* cor-’ rects a singular error of the historians in relation-to the date of her marriage. Tux Plantation ; a Southern Quarterly Journal, ed ited by J. A. Turner, of Eatonton, G* Published by Pudney A Bussell, New York. Contente.— William H. Seward as a Schoolmaatcr to Georgia Thelo Levin—Walter Early’s Love for his Cousin, Cleopatra Clare—Hope—Two or three of Mr. Spratt’s Slave-Trade Arguments—Anacreon's Lute Toe Old Farm-House of my Uncle Simon; Or, Sketches of Southern Life To My Heart What Is Slavery I ToSestino—Must a Stoner be compelled to Bin ln Each Heart Twe Beings dwell O'Connell and Mrs. Moriarty Agricultural Views of the late Thomas Spald ing Lines on the Recovery iff my Infsnt Son from Sickness Edgar A. Poe Pauline de Meulan Open ing Hymn for the Dedication of s Church—Closing Hymn for the Dedication of a Church—lmproved Agri culture for the Southern State*—Barnum and Burnham; Or,riSwindier* self-made heroes—Not all a Dream— Georgia; Its past History and present Position—The Ball at B ; The Sentry’s Bong English Poets and Poetry previous to Chancer Paragraphs from the Pa pers Wit, Humour and Anecdote—Editor's Table. Mr. Turner seems indefatigable to his efforts to maifliHiJj’3 tain a Quarterly Review in the South, and he hai our best wishes for his succesa Afkbotion. —Let the foundation of thy affec tion be virtue, then make the building as rich and as glorious as thtfo canst; if the foundation be beauty, or wealth, and the building virtue, the foundation is too weak, and it will fell Hap py is he, the palace of whose affection is found ed upon virtue, walled with riches and glazed with beauty, and rooted with honour.—Euchiri dion.