Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page. It is also available as plain text as well as XML.

POETRY. TO TIIK KIllTOR Or TMII TtlUCOft. Hi a? -The following lines wcix- wriltcn some time since. Tbcy were hastily written, and the sentiments are false: but if you think them worth ait insertion iu the Tc n^o^, yuu :ire welcome to them. A DREAM. A dream I had tlie other ?l*v ? ?Twill make you smile iny love to hear it ; 80 strangely Wild was fancy's piny, No madman's vision e'er eumc near It. I thought (how weak !) I might confute Wah un?us|Kt-ting, full reliance, t'|Min the friend I long hud tried, And hitl the power of change defiance. ? dreamt that truth the world possessed, That Un?r was not quite a notion, I thought the hand that warmly prest Was prompted by some kind emotion. I thought the Muilc that light* the face llud with the heart some idight connexion ; I futir.cd that the fond cinhrucc W as still the offspring of idiection. j I thought that woman's heart v'as made, The *eat of chaste and generous pulsion, And not hy sordid motives swatcd, The chcated fool of wealth and fashion. I thought tlie glanre from Emma's eye, ""The smile o'er every feature stealing, Her native blush, her r.rtlcss sigh, lletrau-d u tfuid of gentlest feeling. Thus friendship, honor, truth and love (.'umpired to twin mv hl.ssful vision, And lung did wretched fancy m\e F.n.iinoured, througli the dream Klysirui. Hut dreams of texture all too slight, fly r?;al life are quickly banished : 1 The* happy phantom* took their fl.ght ; 1 wokcto truth and all I. ad vanished. 1 looked iu tost de*|xmdcncc round. To seek the forms my dream had painted? A oild and hevrth'ts world 1 found li;, love iinblest, by falsehood tainted. To friendship and to filling dead ? A waste ol follv and confusion : I soriowcd i/?T tfi? vision fled, Ami wished og.on my blest delusion Awl shall it not return ag.tin ' hi'turn to eh^at and bie?s me ' never! f)h 10 ' the wish is fond and vain. On. Mi', \ atiishcd once, are gyne torever. N. ion Titr. ti M.si orr.. SONNF.T IO MF.LANCIIOl.V. H.?il pah'-elm i.'d Mi.livi'iiiii.t, silent maid 1 Mutr t h'ld of sorrow, *:si< r nf il' Mtuir ? Muc h do I love thy dar k and solemn air : \inl ofi when ji.j Wkthdr:.v>'& its promised aid, And ll-ipe's bright v'.sions into sadness fade. I wi Iconic tliiv at twilight's (tensive hour, When night's rold tears b..iln every dm?fping rtow'r, And funned grief reigns mistress of the mind ! <)' wouhlst thou ctfi'uc nmijM insablo pliglit, An. I lead me to some ahbev'it mould'nug hall, Where the lone Monk with superstition dwelt, And still whe^e fancy with her magic light, Sees spectres glide along the ru.n'd wall, And where thy luodcntruiicmgpowViNdcrpcst felt Wll.FltKf) January 9, 1816. FltOM T1IF. FIF.U) OF WATERLOO, nt w vi.tkr wott. I^Kik forth, onec more, withnoften'd heart, F.rvfrum the (icltl of funic we part ? Triumph nn<l norrow border iiw r, And joy oft melta into a tear. \lan! what link* of love that morn lint war'nrttdc hand asunder torn ! For ne'er \va? licit! no atcrnly fought, ' Ami ne'er was conquest dearer hotighh Here pilrd in coinnion slaughter sleep Those whom aflVetiim ton^?hull weep : Here rests the site, that ne'er shall strain lliit orphans to hisheikrt attain t The son, whom, on hit native shore, The parent's voice shall bless no more ; The bridegroom, who had hardly prt-ss'd His hluslimg contort to Ida breast i 'Die husband, whom through many a year 1/mpr love ana mutual fai^h endear. Thou canst not name one tender tie Hi!1* liwe dissolted III relick* lie I O when iholi sce'M some mourner** veil, < .shroud her thin form and visiuje pale, Or mark'st the matron'* bursting 'ear* Stu-.iin when the stricken drum she hears j ? ?r Me'tit how manlier grief, stippress'd, lalKiring in :? father** breast? - With no i nouiry vain pursue The nuise, ?>.?' think on Waterloo ? ?fl'-l-Ji.) JJ ? ... 111 J i L I SSSSSSSBSBS9 UTKK.VllY. UOIIKKICK, TIIB I. AST OF TIIB CiOTIIS. A roM, bt nonr.MT soimi:*. Thin ix the best. wo think, ami the most pow erful of nil Mr. Houthey'i poemt. It aboundi* with lofty #entimonts, and magnificent imagery, and contains more rti'li ami comprehensive dc M rintionfli? inore beautiAil picturca of pure nf l.'ction? -nml more iinprosnive reprcHcntationH of mental agony ami exultation that! we have met in the coihpAM of a aingle volume. A work* of which all tl>lH can be *aid with justice, cannot he without great merit | and on nht not. it mny bo presumed, to Ik* without jjrfiii popularity. Justice, however, linn some tliirn more to ..'av of it j ami tve are not quite sure either that it will be very popular, or that it d.Mei \es to Im ho. It lit too fnoliotonoiiH~too ? onl v? ami too uniformly utately, tragical ami emphatic. Above all. It if now anil then a little ;it)?tnil? ami pretty frequently not a little af lei ted. w The author in a poet undoubtedly j but not of the highest order. There la ratner more of rhetoric than of inftniration about him- -mid we have ufteiier to fldmirehift ta*te ami imluxtry in borrowing and udorning, than the boldness or felicity of bin inventions, lie ban indisputably <i great gift of amplifying ami exalting) btif use* it. we must nay, rather unmercifully, fie i-t never plain, concine, or unafTectedly simple, and, i* ?o much bent upon making the monr of e- fry thing, that ho is perpetually overdoing. I lie sentiment* ami nittiatioiiH are sometime* or di.mrv enough i hut the to?m of cinpha?i* ami pretension is never for a moment relaxed t ami i -e trivial occurrences, nud fantastical din* ti are commemorated with the tonne vehe r?u i and exai/goraf ion to( manner, a* the mo*t incidents, or tho deepest and rftoxt heart - r ut i|i alters. The want of relief ami va ' * m uMirietitlv painful of itself in <i work of vie., en^th ; hut it? worst ert'ect in, that itgivc* an air of falsetto aurf pretension to the whole strain of the composition, and makes us suspect the author of impost a re and affectation, even when he has good enough cause for his agonies and raptures. How is it possible indeed, to commit our sympathies, without distrust, to the hands of a writer, who after painting with infi nite force the anguish of soul which pursued the lallen Roderick into the retreat to %\hich his crimes had driven hitn, proceeds with redoubled emphasis to nssure us, that neither his .remorse nor hisdownfal were half sc intolerable to him, as the shocking tameness of the sea birds who Hew round ubout him in that utter solitude, and were sometimes so familiar as to brush his cheek with their wings ? 4 ?? Tor his ln*t crown Ami *icptre never liml he full a thought , Ol pain : rcj>ciitancc no |>aii?< to *parc For Irillim ?iich a* the?c ? thehmof the->e Wm * cheap jienalty that lie lui<l fallen Mown to the lowett <lcpth of wretclieilne?*, lli* ho|>c anil c6iiMilutton. Hut to lose III* hnin:tn h tat ion In the ?calc of thing* ?, To u-e hrute Nature acorn him, niul rvnonnrc Its homage to the htimnn form tliviiu: ! Ilatl then almighty vcngeanec tlm# reveulM III* |>nni*hinent, ami wns lie fallen iiulee<l , llelow falU-n man ? belotv mU'iuption'* ivaclt? Made lower than the la'axtH !" p. 17. This, if we were in bad humour, we should be lemptrd to say. was little better tlinn drivelling, mid certainly' the- lolly of it is greatly agjrravat- 1 ed by the tone of intense solemnity in which it is conveyed : Hut the worst by far, and the most injurious to the cft'ect of the author's greatest beauties, is the extreme ditfuscncss and verbosi ty of hi* style, mid his unrelenting anxiety to leave nothing to the fancy, the feeling, or even the plain understanding of his readers? but to have every thing set down, ami impressed and hammered into them, which it may aiiy how con duce to his glory that they should comprehend. There never was anv author, we nre persuaded, who had so great u distrust of his reader's capa city, or such an unwillingness to leave any op portunity of shining unimproved ; and accord ingly, we rather think there is no author, who, with the saute talents and attainments, has been so generally thought tedious, or acquired, on the whole, a popularity so inferior to hi? real deserv ing*. *)n the present occasion, we have already said, his deserving)* appear to us uiitisuallv great, and his faults less than commonly conspi cuous. Hut though there is less childishness and trifling in this, than in any of his other pro ductions, there is still, we are afraid, enougli of tediousiieHs and affected energy, very material ly to obstruct the popularity which the force, and the tenderness, and the beauty of its better parts, might have otherwise commanded. There is one blemish, however, which we think peculiar to the work before us ; and that is, the outrageously religious, or rather fanatical tone which pervades its wholo structure j the excessive horror ami abuse with Whieh the Ma* hometans are uniformly spoken of oil account of their religion alone, & the offensive frequen cy and familiarity with which the name and the sufferings of our Bavior are referred to at eVerjr turn of the story. The spirit which ie here e vinccil towards the Moors, not only by their va liant opponents, but by the author when speak ing in Ins own person, is neither /that of pious reprobation, nor patriotic hatred, but of savage and bigot ted persecution j and the heroic cha racter and heroic deeds of his favorites are de* based ami polluted by the paltry auperatitions. mid satiguitiarv fanaticism, which he ia pleased to ascribe to ihem. This, which we. Ore per suaded would be revolting in a nation of zeal ous Catholics, must excite a degree of nausea, we think, among sober Protestant* * while, on the other hand, the constant introduction of the holiest persons, and most solemn rites of reli gion, for the purpose of helping on the flagging interest of a story devised for amusement, can scarcely fail to give scandal and offence to all person* of right or just taste. This remark may be thought n little rigorous by those who have not looked into the work to which it is up filled? for they ran have no idea of the extreme rcqueucy and palpable extravagance, of the al lusions und invocations to which wo have re ferred. One poor woman, for cxamnlc, who merely appear* to give alms to the fallen Ro derick ill the season of his humiliation, is very needlessly made to exclaim, as she oilers her pittance, ? t'lirint .Iciit*. for hi* Mother's ?ske. Ilnvc mercy on the*.' ? and Moot) after, (he King himself, when he hears one of liiH subject* uttering curses on Inn name, in pleased to say* ? Oli, for the love of Jcmi? curse him not ! O hrotlier, (to not cnrM' thnt mnfnl hoiiI, Which Jc-iitH Mtifrervtl on lite cr?m? to *!i\c !* Whercupoi., one of tlio more charitable auditors rejoins, ' * 'fir iMt hloM tlirr, brother, for that Christ inn Apeccli !' ?and so thn talk noes on through the greater i>irt of the poem. Now, we must ?ay we think thi? both indecent and ungraceful ; and look upon it as almost as exceptionable a way of in* creasing the solemnity of poetry* Aft common Hwearin^ is of adding tojthe energy of discourse. Its chief fault undoubtedly is the monotony of itn tragic and solemn tone? the pct-|M>tual gloom with winch all {(sureties are overcasts?end the tediousness with which some of them are de* velopcd. There are many dull passages in short* and a considerable quantity of heavy reading \ some alllinc**, and a great deal of af* fectation t But the beauties, upon the whole* preponderate?and these, we hope* speak for thcmselvex. The versification is smooth and melodious tho' too uniformly drawn out into a long and linked sweetness. The diction iftsa* usual more re markable for copiousness than form j and tho' less defaced titan formerly with phrases of af* fected simplicity and infantine pathos, is still | too much speckled with strange words \ which, whether they are old or new* are not Knglish at the present *dav? and we hope never will be* [cftflte so. Wfiat use or oruament doer Mr. Houthcy expect to derive fo* bla poet ry from such wrtrda as o vtd and aurmUt and akrlphty* ?riatf 9 or Uman antl ?< m/*n/, and frtqurntijp and youth head, and twenty more *? pedantic and affected ? What good is there, we should like to know, in talking of " oaken gililcei," Or " Incardined noitrnlw," or u &U*abfe Provi dence," and iucn other point* of learning ? ? If iioi'try in intended for general delUrfitj ought not it? language to bo generally intelligible r? ftllHburgh Revltw. MISCELLANY. A VISIT TO TIIK CATACO.MI1H OK I'AltlH. ! Extract fivm the Journal of fm .Inert run Gentleman, dated Vat it .Utin-f, 27, Ittli. j I must first inform you, by way nf preface, tliut Paris linn been principally built .<1 stone taken out of the quarries, which arc underneath the city, anil the excavations thus made, as you will naturally suppose, arc immense. Great anxiety wan formerly Celt on this account, IW fear that muiiv part* of the city might Mink in confluence of not being sufficiently Hiip|>orteii. So great wan thin uneasiness some yeapt since, that the government in 1770, appointed, some of its most re?|>ei- table citizen* to examine 'these excavations. and report their aituation. 'I'lte re* j suit of their examination was thatsovcra|'church es, palace*, ami many of the princijial buildings and streets in the smith of Paris were considered | in imminent danger of falling into the excavated i^ulph beneath thoui. It was therefore imme diately determined toappoint a general admi nistration for the superiiitendnucu of these qUar l ies, with full authority to adopt such measures as they might deem proper. This subterraneous government has been regularly continued ever since, with m much care as the police for tho regulation of affairs above \ and under the su iierintendanco of these inspectors, Paris has been regularly propped un by immense columns of stone, and the dreaded evil no longer gives alarm. To shew that the public fears wore not* without cause, one house actually fell in, and was nearly buried just a* the above work was cbmmenced. In these subterraneous excavations the Cata combs are to be seen j and here have been depo sitcd, by well grounded computation, since the year 1785, the bones of two millions and a half of the human race. These had been accumulating for centuries in the different cemeteries, church yards, ike. and these burying ploces particularly that of I.', hglise des Innoccns, finally liecame^so offensive and injurious to the health of the inhabitants, i that in 1783 it wan ordered by tho government I that no more dead bodies should lie buried with- j in the city. At the same time orders were given to takedown 44 I/Kglise des Innoccns, " remove the bodies from the buryingground adjoining it, and convert the place into a .public square It wan ascertained from the public records and col culations made thereon, that in tho immense Charuei Houseofthe Innocents, alone, there had been deposited during the last seven ccntu ,one million two hundred thousand bodies, this haying been for a long period of yearn the ?TOP'sco deposit for the dead bodies of the whole city of Pari*. ? These Vines and bodies were dug up in the day time, and conveyed in covered waggons a bout dusk, attended by priests, who performed religious ceremonies over them, 'rtiev' were then emptied into the catacombs throhgh a shaft, or dry well, of about sixty feet in depth, and af terwords arranged by the laborer* below, in the order in which tliev now are, and with the re gular exactness of the moat finished mnfeonnry. In addition to the bone* and bodies taken from tho grave yard of the Innocents, tliero have since been taken up those of sixteen other bury ing grounds. The second work was commenc ed in the year 1792, and continued in 1793, when, in consequence of the French revolution, the work apjiears to have been suspended for ten years. In 1804 it rc-rcommeiiceii, and was con tinued at intervals till 181.1, when the last dis turbing of the bone* appears to have taken place, by removing those found in tho grave yard of the I/Hospital de la Trinite. Having furnished ourselves, the day previous with a permit from tho supciin.ti'iidant general of the catacombs, and also made? our arrange ment with the guide \ my friend' mill myself fit tended at the timo appointed for the purpose of making our gloomy visit. The place we de scribed is near the 44 Harrier p'Knrer*" fetid hav ing each of us provided a lighted taptor, We Care fully fallowed our guide d?wn a afeep winding staircase of stone, of seventy -sift Iteps, and through the different windings of the quarrft*. These corres|>oiid exactly with the different street* of that part of Paris, near " le Hue et Harrier IPKnfer," so that at any timo our con ductor could tell us under what particular part of tho city we were. We proceeded in this manner, according to his account about half a mile, when'we came to a back closed door, over which we could read by the light of our tapers, written in large capitals, these awful words, 44 Avrt te / cm id L* Umpire tie hi JIurt." Pause ! this is the Umpire of Death. Our gloomy walk of itself was enough to impress us with serious and solemn thoughts, without tho above charge. You will agree w ith me however, thattkc inscription is most appro priate. On opening this door which leads into " I *e grand Ossuaire de la Tombo Issoire," we found ourselves between walls and columns composed entirely of human iHirfes and skulls, arranged with the most miniite precision Unci regularity in the following manner. : at the bot tom a layer of one porticular description of bones, thigh hone* for instance, above these a layer of another description of bones, Sic. to tho height of about four feetj then a layer of sculls, afterwards layers of bones alternately, for four feet more i then another layer of tctilfft, the top of these singular walls. The different bones of the human frame being alter nately arranged, so aa to keen up an exact uni formity of appertrancc. The rows of irufta throughout the whole being at equal distances apart. ThU uniformity is only kept up as te the exterior of these walls, tusking in some cases massea of four sides, in others oval or oblong, with the corners rounded ofT. Within these walls the bones are thrown looselv in, till the hollow space is entirely filled uj>. ' HiMe bdnrt are tttrfectly dry and free from smell of ever/ kind, and arc (m* the exterior of tlrodiftfcrcnt masses cementcd together by sumo glutinous substance, which keeps them in their proper placet), and give* them u shining glpssy appearance as if varnished. Through tlieso gloomy wall* oar muto now lay for about an hundred yards, and a flue opportunity present ed itself lor relic eting on the vanity and insigni ficance of that creature called man. Wliut a lesson for human prido waft now before ui ! Ill one of those subterraueous apartment*, are preserved such bones us had any thing par ticular In their appearance. WeheVo saw many which during the lives of their owners appeared to have been fractured^nudcould see in wiiat manner the bones were knitted together ; also those which appeared to have belonged to de formed persons, to }>ersons jpf gigantic stature, Ike. a^o many which our :;uido informed us had Ijeen selected by the^pftyslcUinA and surgeons of Paris, who IVoin theirf appearance could tell of what disease or by whannaan* the opticas came by their deaths. Several nkulls were shown to us which appeared to havtrbeen perforated by musket or pistol balls, and several which, from ?some peculiarity of form* were decided to have belonged to ideots', &c. In short, misguide pre tended to speak witlf as mpcli certainty on the subject, as if he had b^en acquainted with, or present at the deaths of tho several persons whose bones wo wore examining. This curious kind of study occupied us a considerable time. In the midst of tho different ranges of bones wo came to a fountain called La Fontaine de la Hamarltatne , tho water of which Is perfectly clear, and in which are several gold-fish. About two years sirice our guido put these fish into this fountain, and although they 'are in tlmtnost nofound darkness, except when an occasional r aper shines upon thbm, yet they wero very active and perfectly healthy. Some years since, a poor'Frenrhman, who de - ccndcd with a party into these dismal mansions, got spine how separated from his companions and lost moid the may.es of the Catacombs, lie. was sought for in vain, and his skeleton was dis covered ten years afterwards o,t a considerable distance from the usual route. It wassapposcd that curiosity had kept him too Inr behind, or had led him to explore some of the avenge* or that his light became extinguished. and prevent ed him from retracing his Mops. A party of I'jnglish people consisting of livr, got also lost here the last year, and it was six hours before the guide could find them. Tlmse were amount the agreeable stories told by our comluctor, while exploring with him these labyrinths, which vou may suppose were admirably calculated to keep up our spirits. In the present instance, we kept near to each other, and in spite of our ut most caution occasionally one of our tapers would get extinguished. When this occurred immediate recourse was hnd to the light of our neighbour. Although entirely divested of any childish or superstitious fear, yet I could not help shuddering at the possibility of all three of our tapers being extinguished at the same time, hut our guide assured us, that should this bo tho case* he waatouvtocatJUiftt ho cordd gropo his way out, although he acknowledged that he had no great wish to volunteer tho experiment. It took us about two hours and a half to per form this subterraneous journey, and during the whole of it we found the air perfectly sweet and tho walking walls perfectly dry, except in ono instance, wlien we passed uncfer a canal } hero there was a little dripping of water. Hating according to our conductor's account walked about a mite and a quarter, we came to the foot of a winding staircase, similar to tho one by which we hail descended. Wo hero left these gloomy mansions, mid although wo hud passed a most interesting time, vet truly happy were we to Hud ourselves oneo more iri'the re gions of sunshine and cheerfulness. Jl legal pun. ? In n trial, wherein Harrow and Jckyl were employed an counsel, an old wuiuiui was brought fowaid an a witness to prove that there hint been a " tender mailt" of money.-? The old lady guvc rather on equivocating evi? dencoi upon which Jekyl, who onpo#cd Garrow upon the occasion, handed hint tiittcouplet, writ* ten with a pencil * , " <J?rrow fulxnr '.?that tnt/trS f.ht Jnit>, ? " Cm never prove a " ttnihi- imnk The Palm of Memory. ? " Whether it he that life ho* more vexations 'than comfort*, or what id in the event lust the name, that evil make* deeper impression than good, it i* certain that fuv can review the time past without hcaviucmi of heart. He remember* many calamities in* curred by folly, many oppor lunitirM lost !?v no uti^ciice* The shade* ol' the dead rise up lie fore him | And lie lament* the companion* of his youth, the pnrtner* of hi* amusements, the as* sistantaof Ids labours. whom the hand of death hax snatched away. When an oiler was made to ThemUtOcles of tenchim/him the ai t of memory he answered, that he would rather wish for tho art of forgetftilncss. I It-It l,i< imagination Haunted by phantom* of innery which h? unable to suppress, and woidd gladly have calmed his thought ^ with some ohllvloim imti ilotti In this we all resemble one another; the hero and the sage are, like vulvar mortal*, over burdened by the weight of life t all shrink from recollection, and all wish for an art offorgetful ne?8." f Jin ftWrrtef.? Tacitus savs, nn early marriage mokes us immortal. It is the rfoul and chief prop of empire.? -That man whoresolve* to livo without woman. and that woman, who resolves to live without man, are enemies t,> the com munity in which they d well, injurious to them selves, destrur five to the. tirorltf, apostates from nature^ and rebel* agafoat heaven and earth. . Cmfemjit becomes still more poignant, when it In conducted with a delicacy which doe* not tlte yon the momentary opportunity of ro Mrning it ? when it i? no blended with good humour and external dflorum at to lot no wj It but the conscious victim. ' '? MY/li'tiutnsture to sKtvannigcdrttt, What oft W44 ton necr etprc?s'd "