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^ ^ wm <B<DHrauB{B<sa.&a> ?<?<aiaatBiB? g Ml ^ I 1 " *" 1 1 1,11 ?? L.Im. JONES, ' "at THis PIBLW coob wb aim." M. M. LEVY, Editor. 4 ^eeB^eBgggsaaagggMrtaagaBBaaaaaeggigBBBBgBBaBBBBgBgagMMBBBgBggeaflggBBa^^ I,1 .... 1 BBBgaaeggag VOlAl* .CA'WWBW, SOUTH CAROUHi, SATURpAV JAIVIARY 90, 1838. IVA 38. ?? 1,/J or rum aejIMSB,OXAX. 90X711X311$ PubSshed weeklyly every Saturday morning at #3 per annum if paid in advance, or $4 if not paid until the expiration of the year. Ffcraona subscribing out of tho State, are required to pay in advance. _ No subscription received for a less term than one year. " - " j Advertisements will be inserted at One Doll** per ^ square for the first insertion, and r irrv Cents tor every continuance. Those Advertisements that do not have the number of insertions marked on the * margin will be publishod until forbid, and charged accordingly. ID * All Letters addressed to this Oilico, must be post paid. ' INDIAN SUMMER?AMERICAN FORESTS AND THE INFLUENCE OF THE ORE AT LAKES ON OUR AUTUMN SUNSETS. "JL'he^ beauty, ^blandncss and mingled glories of a Western Indian Summer belongs alike to earth'and *sky. In the valley of. the great Lakes they are blent with a mellow richness and loveliness unknown in other climes. The spirits of beauty can worship in no temple more resplendent than the^arched heavens'lit up by an Autumn sunset, and burnished with Hashes and crimson colorings, deepened by the many tinted foilage of the primeval woods, mirrored and reflected from waters broad and bright as the Me-' diterraneans of the old world. The for^ est?pen hoi pencil can do justice to the spectacle it presents, when the frosts of a night has changed the lingering green of a summer. ' It is*fts if a myriad of rainbows were laced through the trce-l'j?ps? as if the sunsets of a summer?gold, purple and crimson?had been fused in the ulembic of tho west, and poured back in q new deluge of light and color over the wilderness. It is as if every leaf in those countless trees had been planted to outflush the tulip?as if. bv some electric miracle, the dyes of the earth's heat had struck upward, and her crystals and ores her sapphires, hyacinths and rubies, had led forth theirjmprisoned colors, to mount through the roots of the forest, and, like the angels that in olden time, entered the bodies of the dying, reanimate the perishing leaves, and revel an hour in their bravery." A writer in a late number of the Oasis advances the plausible theory that the chain of lakes lying in a great circle from south of west to north, add much to the splendor of our Autumn sunsets. Hays of light falling on a reflecting surface, slide off, so to speak, in a corresponding angle of elevation.or depression, whatever it may be. The writer considers the great American lakes as vast mirrors spread horizontally upon the earth, reflecting the ray a of the sun that fall upon them according to the optical laws that govern this phenomenon. The higher the sun is above the horizon, 1hc less distance the reflecting rays would have to pass through the atmosphere, and of course, the less would be the cfTect produced; while at or near the time of set* ting, the direct rays striking horizontally upon the waters, the direction of the reflecting rays must be so also, and therefore pass over or through the greatest possible amount of atmosphere previous to their final dispersion. Objects on the earth's surface, if near the reflecting bo dy, require but little elevation to impress their irregularities on the reflected light. Any considerable eminences on the eastern shores of the great lakes would produce the effect of lcsscuing or totally intercepting these rays at the moment the sun was in a position nearly or quite horizontal. Tito reflective power of a surface of water is much greater than that of earth, which accounts for the admitted superior beauty and brilliancy of nutnmlial sunsets in the northern, over the most gorgeous in the southern states. The views of this writer may be novel, yet his hints arc worthy the attention of the curious. The succession of most resplendent sunsets for the past several weeks, when not destroyed by atmospheric derangement attending storms?the effulgence which continues to curtain the chambers of the day-king?with the frequent auroral ministers that attend his exit, in this latitude, leads us to marvel, and reverence and worship the Power tl.at anirAtifla nnd /til,!.. 1 l ' iiiu? g|>ivuuu uuu guua vuc uaiincry tent? displaying a handiwork man can only admire and enjoy, not imitate. The theory as this writer accounts for the successive ilushes of golden and scarlet light so often observed to rise and blend and deepen in the west as the sun approaches the horizon, and sinks below it, by the supposition that each lake, one after the other, lends its reflecting light to the visible portion of the atmosphere, and thus as one fades, another flings its mass of radiance across the heavens, and acting on a medium prepared for its reception, prolongs the splendid phenomc-j pa. He says, j "We have for years notleed theM?ff-| pearancde, and marked tha faet, [that ift the early part of September, the sv.pfcete are of unusnal brilliancy, And more prolonged, than at other tithes. ^ They are at ' this season, immediately . after the sun goes down, accompanied by pencils ,or streamers of the richest light, which, diverging from the position of the sun, appear above the horizon, and are some- , limes so well defined that they can be i distinctly traced to the zenith. At other < seasons of the year, clouds just below the i horizon at sunset produce a somewhat si- 1 mils result in the formation of brushes of light; and elevated ranges of mountains i by intercepting and dividing the rays, whe- j ll*er direct or reflected, effect the same < appearances; but in this case there are | no elevated mountains, and on the finest j of these evenings the sky is perfectly t cloudless. The uniformity of these pen- ( cils at the same season for a great num- i bcr of vears. nrove the oermanencv of < their cause, and let us trace their origin ( to the peculiar configuration of the coun- ] try bordering on the great lakes: I "At the time of the year these streamers ( are the most distinct*;a. line drawn from < this point (Oswego) to the sun would pass i over a small part of the west cud of Lake i Ontario, the greatest diameter of Lake ( Huron, and across a ..considerable portion | of Lake Superior. From considerations { connected with the figure of the earth, < and the relative position, of the sun and ( the lakes, with the hills that border Lake ' Huron on the east, it appears clear to 11^ that the broken line of these hills act the , part of clouds or mountains in other, cir- | cumstanccs in intercepting and: dividing i into pencils the broad mass of light re- i fleeted from the Huron and thus creating 1 those splendid streamers, by which,-as it were, the commencement of autumn is marked. ' As the sun still advances to the south, the pencils formed by the highlands are lost to us, but in their place come two broad ones, caused by the feebler reflective powers of the isthmuses that separate St. Clair from the Huron, and the former from Lake Erie. This occurs hot fur "from the middle of September, when the sun sets a few degrees north of west, and can be observed nearly a | month. These interruptions of the brilliancy of tho west arc not, however, of the duration of those effected by the hills, as the sun has scarcely time to leave the surface of the HuroiWjefore.these pencils and breaks are all abruptly melted into the rich dark crimson that floats up from the Michigan or the mighty Superior. "After the southern declination of the sun has become such that the Huron range of hills is to, the northward of the ' range of light reflected to us, these pencils disappear from the heavens, appa- , rently, and do not return until, with another season, and a renewed atmosphere, ; the sun is found in the same position.--- i The reason of this is, the whole df the Michigan peninsula is so level that if does not break the reflected light from that lake; and the broader' ones made by breaks in the chain of lakes from. Erie to Huron, are not of a nature to be distinct| ly marked as those produced by tne interception of rays by hills or clouds. "We have thrown out these hints?for we consider them nothing more ?in the hope of directing the notice of other and more competent observers to the facts staled, and if possible, thereby gaining a satisfactory explanation of the splendid phenomena connected with our autumnal sunsets, should the above not be consider- 1 ed .as such." , The favorable location of our city, ! overlooking as it does a broad expanse of J waters on the north and west, often gives 1 it the famed rose-colored skies of impri- ' soned Italy. At such an hour the divini- : ty is stirred within us, and few can go out under the pavalion nature lias spread over our forest, city and Erie, without feeling : that 'God alone is to be seen in heaven.* j The breathings of the sweetest of American bards then come unbidden from the 1 fount of memory: j 'Oh! what a glory doth this world put on. For him that with a fervent hart goes forth Under the bright and glorious sky, and looks J On duties well performed and days well spont! For him the wind, ay, and the yellow leaves, ] Shall have a voice, and give him eloquent teachings. 1 He shall so hear the solemn hymn that death Has lifted up for all, that he shall go To his long resting place without a tear,' From the letters of "A Rambler in the West," A SNOW-STORM ON THE PRAIRIE. 1 'Now sharp Boreas blows abroad, and brings Tho dreary winter on his frozen wings; 1 Beneath the low.hung clouds, the sheets of Snow ' Descend, and whiten all the fields below.' 1 n t * - - % * ? fi 1 oucii was tne burden of my song Whet) j I awoke from a most refreshing slumber, j and saw large white flakes descending, 1 and the whole country covered with the . snowy garb of winter. It is oft-times a , very pleasant employment to watch the progress of a snow-storm, but then you J must be sheltered from its violence, for I ' assure you, you cannot at all sentimental* 1 ize when you are breasting iis fury, and have a long and dreary journey before you* However, this morning I was in a i peculiarly .good humor, and disregarding < the solicitations o( my friends, w] wTi' ged me to remaify ufttil the storm had abated, I determined to resume my jour* ney. Soon the merry jingle of the sleighbell announced to me that my vehicle was at the dojr of my friend's hospitable ] mansion?into it I sprung with joyous ; gaiety, and away we flew .ovA* the broad ! and boundless prairie. ^ My noble steed 1 seemed to feel a new "excitement as he 1 inhaled the fresh morning breeze, which j lent life.and vigor to every nerve. ' A prairie is most beautiful in the 'spring j time of year,* for theft' it is a garden { formed and cultivated Hy nature's hand, . .... a- _ . ? i wnere spring the cluste^ng flowers which bloom in rich luxuriance, and shed their frugrance on the desert air.*' But when stern winter casts her mantle over the earth, and binds the streams in icy fetters, then a prairie is a spectacle, grand and sublime, and will well repay for the hardships and privations of Western travelling. I was compelled, however, to ride against the wind, which whistled around and blew directly in my face. So violent was the storm lhat I was almost blinded by the thick flakes that were dashed directly in my eyes. Had I acted with prudence, I should have discontinued my journey, and made myself comfortable for the remaintier of the day at the log hut where I dined?but 1 determined, i:i spite of wind and weather, to reach Peoria by night.? Whilst progressing quietly on my way, gray twilight extended her evening shades on earth. Still I drove on, anxious to reach my point of destination. Not a single star peeped out from the heavens to shed its light on a benighted traveller.? The storm increased in violence, and the cold winds -whistled a wintry tune. I now found I had strayed from the road, and here was 1 on a broad prairie, with- , out mark or mound, and had lost the j trace, which was ere how covered liv falling snow. Unfortunately I had left my compass . behind, and now I was on a broad sea | without a chart or compass, and without one stray light in the heavens whereby to ( direct my course. The mariner, when i tossed, upon the billows of the stormy ] ocean, has at least thcsatisfaction of know- j ing where he is, for the needle will always j point to the pole, and his chart will tell i him of the dangers in path?but the i weary traveller, Who lias lost his xvay on a prairie, is on n boundless sea, where he cannot even tell the direction he is pursuing, for oft'limes he will travel hour after honr, and still remain at nearly the same point from which he started, flad even one accommodating star beamed in i the heavens, 1 should not hqve been the < least disconcerted, for then I could have < some object whereby to guide my steps: I But all the elements combined against me, |l and I assure you, my feelings were by no means comfortable. Memory ran over the sad history of the numerous travel- 1 tears, who.had been overtaken by night, i and been buried in the falling snow; many who had started in the morning full of gay hopes and buoyant anticipations, j who, ere another sun had risen, had found 1 a cold and solitary grave?arrested in their I course by the chill and icy hand of death* i Alas, thought I, how true it is, For then no more tho blazing hearth shall burn? ' Or busy housewife ply her cvning care; 1 No children run to lisp their sire's return? Or climb his knee, the envied kiss shore.' 1 Insensibly I felt a strong inclination to sleep?I had always heard that this was a dangerous sympton, and if I yielded to its influence, my life would certainly be lost. I endeavored to shako ofT the drowsy feeling. Never before have I expe- ' ricnced siich a strong inclination to sleep. ' Never before did I exert myself mor- to ' keep awake. I hallowed?-I shouted?I 5 beat my breast to preserve animation, ' and tried every method to prevent my \ yielding to the drowsy influence My no- 1 ble horse was almost exhausted, and I myself began to despair of reaching a place 1 Df shelter?when suddenly a ray of light 1 beamed upon the sno w, and shed a shadow ' around me. Encouraged, by this favora- 1 ble token, 1 urged on. My jaded steed also deemed to know'that he was approach- 1 ing a place of , shelter, for he quickened ! his pace, and shortly afterwards I disco- 1 vered at a distance, a small log-hut, from j whose window beamed a broad blaze of ' light. Soon was I at the door, and tv&rm- * I? welcomed by the kind owner, who J shook the snow from my garments, and gave me a seat before a blazing fire. j Oh, how delightful was the sense of so- j curity as I sat sheltered from the wintry , blast, and listened to thb tales of the inmates, many of whom had, like me, been c overtaken by the storm,, and now were x relating the teverils of their journey. I x have passed many delightful evenings in ( the course of a short but eventful life?I j have been at the festive board, Where the a ivine-cup was pushed merrily around, and t song, and laughter, and meriment aboun- l i..i * L ?:?i-J - - - 1 jcu?i u?vo niiiigicu in mo society ot the f gay?I have been | "Whw? youth and pleasure meet I To chess the flowing hours with ttyixig feet." ( But never have I passed a more happy i evening than in the small aiftjUffPY CAh> 1 iQ of tS|4 liliQPif farmer. { From 'Intidenteof Travel* by an American. . the Bvlds et Ancient temerta. ? Leaving the valley, we turned up to the right, and, crorfsin^ among the mountains, in two hpurs came in sight of the ruins of Sebaste, the ancient Samaria, standing upon a singularly bold and insulted mountain, crowned with ruins. The.capital.of the ten tribes of Israel, where Ahab built his palace of ivory; where, in the days of ? 1 1 ? .... jeroooani, ner citizens sal in ine .lap ol luxury, saying to their masters, "come fnd let us drink," destroyed by Ahe AsSyrians, but rebuilt and restored tp more than its original splendor bv Horod, now lies in the state foretold by the prophet Amoe, . "her inhabitants and their prosperity are taken away." The incient Samaritans are all gone, and iround the ruins of their palaces and icmplcs are gathered the miserable huts 3i the Arab Fellahs. Climbing up the precipitous ascent of the hill, we came to he ruins of a church, or lower; or something else, built by our old friend the Lady Helena, and seen to great advanage from the valley below. The Lady Helena, however, did not put together all his stone and mortar for the picturesque ilonc; it was erected over, and in honor )f, the prison where John the Baptist was icheadcd, and his grave. I know that his spot was gunrded with jealous care, ty the Arabs, and that none but Mussul* nans were permitted to sec it; bnt this i:,I . ? --1-*? - =?- - - iiu nut |nKvcnt my asiiiug tiniij1551unj ind, when the Jame sheik said that none iould enter without a special order from .he pasha, Paul rated him soundly for thinking wc would be such fools as to come without one: and, handing liitn our travelling firman, the sheik kissed the seal, and, utterly unable to determine for himself whether the order was to furnish me with horses or admit me to mosques, said he knew he was bound to obey that seal, and do whatever the bearer told him, and hobbled off to get the key. Leaving our shoes at the door, in one corner of the enclosure, we entered a small mosque with white washed walls, hung with ostrich eggs, clean mats for the I graying Mussslmuns, a sort of pulpit J ind the usual recess for the Kebla. In the centre of'the stone floor, was a hole opening to the prison below, and, going outside and descending a flirrht of rIauk 0 ? ~ i'~' we came to the prison chamber, about eight paces square; the door, now broken nud leaning against the wall, like the doors of the sepulchres of the kings at Jerusalem, was a slab cut from the solid stone, and turning on a pivot.' On the opposite side were three small holes, opening to, another chaniber, which was the tomb of the Baptists. I looked in, but all was dark; the Mussulman told me that the body only was there; that the prophet was beheaded at the request of the wife of a king, and I forgot where said the head was. This may be the prison where the great forerunner of the Lord was beheaded; at least no man can say that it was not; and leaving it with the best disposition to believe, I ascended to Lite ruined palace of Herod, his persecutor and murderer. Thirty or forty columns were still standing, the monuments of the departed greatness of its former ten ants. 0:i one side, towards the northeast, where are the ruins of a gate, there is a double range of Ionic columns. I counted more than sixty, and, from the fragments I was constantly meeting, it would seem as if a double colonnade had extended all around. , ] The palace of Herod stands on a table of land on the very summit ot the hill, overlooking every part of the surrounding country; and such was "the exceeding softness and beauty of the scene, even under the wildness dnd waste of Arab cultivation, that the city seemed smiling in the midst of nsr desolation. All around was a beautiful valley, watered by running streams, and covered by a rich carpet of grass, sprinkled with wild flowers of every hue, and beyond, stretched like in open book before me, a boundary of fruitful mountains, the vine and the olive rising in terraces to their very summits; here, day after day, the haughty Herod lad sat in his rnvnl n?ln**?v nnH - - ~j - i -? ""' " 6 )ut upon all these beauties, his heail had jecomc hardened with prosperity; here, tmong these still towering columns, the >roud monarch had made a supper, "to lis lords and high captains, and chief estates of Galiles;" here the daughter of fierodias, Ilerod's brother's wife, "danced >cfore him, and the proud king promised vith ah oQth to give her whatsoever 6he ihould ask, even to thfe half of his kinglom." And while the feast and dance vent on, the "head of John the Baptist vas Drougm in a cnarger and given io he damsel... And Herod has gone, and ierodias Herod's brother's wife, hat gone md "the lords and the high captains, and he chief estates of (Jalilee" arj gone; tut the ruins of the palace in which they easted are still here; the mountains and 'alleys which behold their revels.arc here; md oh, what a comment upon the vanity' >f worldly greatness ! a fellah was turnng his plough around one of the columns. [ was sitting on a broken capital under a ig-trct by it* ?ide, tag J <*ked bun whit m V # . * were the ruin* we saw; and while his oxen were quietly cropping the grass that' grew among the fragments of the marble floor, he told me they were the ruins of the palace of a king?he believed of the .Christians; and while pilgrims from every quarter of the world turn aside from their path to do homage in the prison of his beheaded victim, the Arab who was driving his plough among the columns of lixs palace knew Pot the name of the haughty Herod. Even at this distance of time .1 look .back with a feeling of uncommon' interest upon my ramble among those IU1M9, wild me Arao piOUgP.nmil of the king who built it, leaning against a column that perhaps had often supported the haughty Herod, and looking out from this scene of desolation and ruin upon the most beautiful country in the Holy Land. WINDS or THE DESERT. Mr. Buckingham, in one of his latf lectures, gave some interesting particular* respecting the wind of Egypt, which are two in number. ... The Eastern wind, known by various names, but most commonly as the wind of the North, blo..*& steadily for ten months during the year, adding greatly to the freshness and purity of the atmosphere. Apertures iu the roofs opening to the North allow the current of air to ventilate the buildings; and around these wind-catchers the inmates group, as in other countries, by the fireside. Another benefit conferred by the wind on their navigation, seems almost providential: vessels glide rapidly down the Nile, borne onward by the force of the current, unaided by sail or oar, but to ascend the river is more difficult. With 'tall masts raised, however, and wide arms extended, and broad canvass spread, they are wafltcu by this Useful breeze in the i face of the tide, from North to South.? Duiing the remaining two months of the year, navigation is impeded. The hot and sultry khamseen breathes its enervating influence fr?m the Nile even to Sicily; and has become proverbial in the land of song . as an excuse for failure in any enterpriseu So when a luckless author is reproached for want of spirit in a work, or a lover with absence of tenderness in a ditty, or a musician with a piece possessing little harmony, the answer may brobabiy be? "It was done in' the time of Sirocco; what would you have?" j ; - \ \ x From the great insecurity of person and property, there is litle travelling except in caravans. These frequently comprise 40,000 camel.?, attended by 30 or 40,000 persons. Flying horsemen scouring at lull speed, the surrounding country, secure them from sudden attack; but the chief danger they have to fear is the hot blast of the desert. Its approach is tokened by a lurid streak in the heavens, such as may sometimes be seen in American sunsets. It is a sign well understood by the natives, and they prepare for it immediately. It comes like the heated air from a fire furnace suddenly opened, producing faintness and lassitude; and soon, increasing in violence, it raises tho sou sand in clouds, penetrating the eyes, nose and mouth, and insinuating itself beneath the garments. The camels arc halted by the sound of a bugle, the note ol a flute, oa some other well known signal, and arranged in lines of a hundred or thosand or a thousand each, with their backs turned to the quarter whence the Simoon is expected; and beneath the shelter thus afforded, the men prostrate themselves upon the ground. The drifting sand, opposed in its course, rises in a little while to the camels' backs, and begins to pour down on the other side.? Now must they again bestir themselves, if they would not be buried where they ue. Aitnougn the atmosphere is thick with yellow sand, producing darkness so total, that one cAnnot see an extended hand?and darkness too that can be felt? a new position is to be taken, a new line of camels formed, and the same operation gone through with. This is often necessary to be done many times, until reduced to perfect helplessness by exhaustion, they sink and die, and are buried beneath the sand. The groans of women and children, and blendid cries of men and boasts, help to make the scene awful beyond description. One of these simoons to which Mr. Buckingham was exposed, lasted eighteen hours; and out of a caravan of 250,000 persons returning from a pilgrimage to Mecca, to the shrine of Mahomet; which was overtaken near Damascus by this destroying blast, ofHy 1J> escaped alive to tell the tfcle.?Ikew York a * American. ? i 11 ?mrn~ ; * ^ ^ The .American Union.?There are those who nfleeted to doubt the permanency of our institutions, who fear that the spirit which created, may fail to sustain them Such doubt is treason!?and the wretch who breathes it, should be branded as a traitor! The shrug, the sigh and thCrepret, the "speechless obliquy** of hypocritical friendship, are more vitally injurious than the worst mala?e of Eomly tv. The corruption that begins its mint within the life springs of the system, i* almost hopelessly incurable. There is. nP cause for dou^t. We hare but recently