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jVol. III. Abbeville C. H?, S. C. Oct. 7, 1846* No. 32:
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MUSIC AND POETRY.
When we consider the influence
which Music ana i'oetry, at uie presem
day, exert, both in the cconomy of nature
and over the mind of man ; it seems not
so wonderful that the ancient world
shouldhave so universally acknowledged
the sway of the God of the Delphic
It cannot be that any daily behold,
with enchanted eye, the beauties of the
one, or, with delighted ear, drink in the
melodies of the other, and never feel
constrained to bow at their common
How much of the refinement, purity,
and elevated feeling of society would be
lost with Music and Poetry! Had they
departed who would wish to linger hore!
For this earth, should they forsake it,
would be like some vast hall, decked indeed
for the banquet, but wanting lights
to reveal its beauties and adornings.
Without them all would be dark and
gloomy, for they iningio in all things
beautiful and pleasnt. They are interwoven
with our very being-. Powerful
are their claims to allay the fever of pas
sion ; to sooth the " breast of melancholy
to recall the mourner back to joy ;
to inspire the despairing with hope ; to
IT. a! I . . - _ ? T
mi me neari 10 neaven.
Music delights us in childhood's earliest
hour. It breathes in the mother's
voice and the infant is still. We love
to hear it in the wild artless glee of
childhoad's sport; and there is poetry in
the very freshness of childhood's feel
ings. All in youth acknowledge their
power. What would avail the lover's
most ardent vow, were not music in the
tone, and poetry in the glance!
They too, have subdued manhood's
sterner nature, and caused tears to flow
mroc? ^ nniic o/l tr\ nn/1
II VUl VJ I*I*'?OUVA ku ?? I MIIVJ,
touching memory's answering chord,
the dimmed eye shines again with
youthful gleam, as the soul makes loftier
resolves for the future. And who
would not believe that maturer age but
renders us capable of drawing richer
streams of enjoyment from the fount first
j :~r i
upcucu iu ii> in iiuaucy
They reign pre-eminent in Nature.
The spring with its numberless tribes
brings music. With dawn it salutes us
in the varied notes of the little songsters
rejoicing that winter is over; and
through the busy diy they still sing on,
cheering their untiring industry, until
" still eve comes on," when the doves
sweet soothing note strikes on the ear
as music most fitting for that calm,
peaceful hour. And, in the solemn
midnight, is there not wild music, aye,
and poetry too, in the shrill shriek of the
solitary Owl walking abroad amid the
I .1 1 O
congenial uurKiiess f
Spring's Poetry, though only the gifted
may speak, yet all may feel. When
this delightful season gladdens our hearts,
we exclaim, surely it cannot be sur
passed! it seems as though the joyousness
and gaiety of all the year had met.
We see, hear, only music and poetry.
But ere we have time sufficiently to admire,
summer coines with still richer
melodies, and, varied as its fruits and
tints is the soft murmuring, then rushing
music in its leaves. In i(s blossoms
may wc read its poetry ; and where the
tiny humming-bird dips his tapering
? !- -? 1 I I .L.tJ ,?
din in inc opening duo, we Denoiu mem
Few perhaps, have not remarked and
felt the influence of the native music and
poetry of this particular season, Autumn.
Now, in the years declining age, we
may no longer, with eager ear listen to
the wild, fresh, overflowing- notes of its
infancy and youth; nor yet the richer
strains of summer; still its melody plea
scs; and, while it recalls the more glowing
past, fobids regret. Autumn has
but just begun, and when we behold
Nature, wearing each day a brighter
and more fancy-pluasing aspect, and
then remember that this increasing loveliness
is but the sure presage of decay,
which will soon mingle the gay and
beautiful with the dust. When we see
the leaves. lingering, kiss each other in
parting, and fall, seemingly chanting
their own requiem ; the bosom is involuntarily
filled with melancholly, almost
fearful, forebodings of the future. But,
anon the closing beams of day recall us
from our meditations, thus saddened ;
and turning to the glowing west, with
rapture, we behold poetry in all its glory.
Nature's own pcetry! If Autumn's
sad, strange, music fills with melancholy
; brings death and the grave to mind ;
its gorgeous poetry reminds us of the
joys, the splendors beyond. And while
its fading blossoms, and decaying beauty
warn us to trust not to earthly, perishable
things ; wc look not long for the
point where our hopes should ccntrc,
our trust be stayed j for gazing on its
glorious skies, we behold written there,
"Look above!" When earth's joys,
and loves, and enchantments, fade away,
then do Heaven's higher glories appear
Even winter, drear, gloomy winter,
void of all that can gladden, as some
will represent it, has its music ; its poetry.
How mournfully sounds the hollow,
whistling wind! yet its music ar
tt r. _ r _ . _r.i
resis us. now sou me jaini music 01 me
frost 1 And who has not fancied he
could hear the "fairy footsteps of the
snow." And what is more poctical
than the winter storm! The thundering
blast bearing before ?t the crackling.
crashing boughs; tossing on high
the solitary leaves which Autumn has
left, seeminirlv bent irnon the destruction
of all that remains of grandeur in the
forest, or beauty in the grove ; then sud
denly giving place to the calm, silent
fall of the snowy shower. The snowbird's
chirp, and wood-pecker's ringing
knock, chime in with the tinkling
sleighbells, and crackling boughs ben
ding low wi h the sleet Then winter's
brightest Moon, rendered slill more
bright by the dazzling white around,
shines more than ever in poetry.
The " viewless air" bears music on its
gales. And who lias not enjoyed it on
.i. Ul.l.. ?i ~i... l 1. . .1
II1C |ir UUl^ SIlUICj Ul IUUKJI UilIlK , 111 lliu
gentle ripple, or dashing wave.
From my earliest years of thought, I
have loved the music of the water ; even
the dancing drops that refresh the thirsty
summer's soil, or the little brook falling
over a few grey stones, or pursuing its
rippling course over the white sand, and
through the yielding grass, and have
stood enrapt hearing that alone. I have
never hftard thfi ncpan's rnnr Kill fan^idH
I had "what might seem like its faint
echo, in the booming voice borne from
the waves of the Chesapeake dashing
over its uneven shores.
The Music and Poetry of Nature are
indeed heartstiring; but, because they
daily, commonly appear, how oft we
pass them by, nor note iheir deep voices
calling us away from grovelling earth,
and pointing us above! They
"are all around our paths, if bul
our watchful eyes,
Could trace them midst familiar things,
and through their lowly guise.*'
Music is not alone in chording notes
sweet though they be, nor is poetry onlj
words and feet and measured lines. No
poetry is the music of the soul! li
dwells in nature, and music is its voice 1
The poetry that touches most the soul, is
too deep for words; and the music thai
affects us most is often heard but once
But, best of all, they are immortal
Wanderers from Heaven, they but
dwell on earth, as the last remnants of
Paradise, to lure man upward. They
cheer his pilgrimage here, and ever bid
him hasten on. And, and in his latest
moments, music from the " spirit shore,"
shall hover around and waft his spirit
Having thus attended him from infancy
to the grave, they sh 11 stand on
the heavenly shore, ready to welcome
him to blissful Eternity. And, Oh!
how lovlicr far, will ihey appear, robed
in all their excellency and beauty divine
of which tainting earth had robbed
And ever there shall they teach him
to sing, in loftiest strain and sweetest
melody, the new song, the song of the
Abbeville C. II.
Woman.?The government of families
leads to the comfort of communities,
? -- 7 I
and the weltare ol States. Of every
domestic circle, woman is the centre.
Home, that sccne of the purest and dearest
joy, home is the empire of woman.
There she plans, directs, performs, the
the acknowledged sourcc of dignity and
felicity. When female virtue is most
pure, female sense is most approved, female
deportment most correct, there is
most propriety of social manners. The
early years of childhood, those most
precious yearsof lifeand opening season,
are confined to woman's superintendence,
she therefore may be presumed to lay
the foundation of all the virtues, and all
the wisdom that enrich the world.
Tin; Ladies of Italy.?In form the
Italians excel us. Larger, fuller, they
naturally acquire a finer gait and bearing.
It is astonishing that our ladies
should persist in that ridiculous notion,
that a small waist is, and per necessite,
most beautiful. Why. many an Italian
woman would cry for vexation if she
nnCQPQCOrl QUph n wnict o c? QAmo r\f nnr
ladies acquire only by the longest and
most painful process. I have sought the
reason of this difference, and can see no
other than that the Italians have their
glorious statuary continually before
them as models, and hence endeavor to
assimilate themselves to them i whereas
our models are those of French stuffed
figures in the windows of milliner's
shops. Why, if an artist should presume
to make a statue with the shape
that seems to be regarded with us as the
perfection of harmonious proportion, he
would be laughed out of the city. It is
a standing objection against the laslcof
our women, the world over, that they
will particularly assert that a French
milliner understands how they shall be
made better than nature herself.
Hcadletfs Travels in Italy.
Tiie Wife of Parades?The Savannah
Republican say that Parades is not
more remarkable as a soldier than his
wife as a heroine.
A captain in the American Navy,
well and favorably known in this city,
who is intimately acquainted with the
Mexican President, informs us that his
wife is remarkable for great coolness in
danger, as well as her unwavering devotion
to Parades. She always accompanies
the army on horseback, and on
several occasions has been known to
dress her husband's wounds with her
own hands on the field of battle.
Virtue.?The creation of the sculptor
may moulder into dust; the wealth
_ r .. 1 i .1 ?-m - ?- ~f
ui me uaru may wnner; me mrono 01
i the conqueror may be shivered into
atoms, by an opposing power; the fame
of the warrior may no longer be hy mmed
by the recording minstrel; the hope of
' the youth may be disappointed; but
that which hallows the cottage and sheds
' glory around the palace?virtue?shall
never decay. It is celebrated by the
' angels of God?it is written on the nil
lars of heaven, and reflected down to
I Happiness in our Own Power.?
i The earth would still be a paradise if we
L had the power of enjoying it, and did not
. turn it into a curse to ourselves by our
. own appetites and passions.
From the Mobile Herald.
We have given our readers several
specimens of the talent of Mexicans in
the way of diplomacy. How they fight
is already known?and, by the way, our
opinion of them in that respect has im
proved wonderfully. Below we publish
a poem written by a Mexican poet
at Vera Cruz. It was translated for the
Columbian, a New York Magazine,
and possesses very considerable poetic
" 111 O B R A V O .:'
A MEXICAN LAMENT.
Rio Bravo! Rio Rrnvnl
Saw men ever such a li^ht ?
Since the field of Roncesvulles
Sealed the fate of many a knight!
Dark is Palo Alto's story,
Sad Resaca Pal ma's rout;
On those fatal fields so gory,
Many gallant life went out.
There our best and bravest lances
Shivered 'gainst the Northern steel.
Left the valiant hearts that couched
'Neath the Northern charger's heel.
Rio Bravo. Rio Bravo!
Minstrel ne'er knew such a sight.
Since tili field of Roncesvallcs
Sealed the fate of many a knight.
Rio Bravo, fatal liver.
Saw ye not while red with gore,
Torrejohn all headless quiver,
A ghastly trunk upon thy shore?
Heard ve not wounded coursers
Shrieking on your trampled banks
As the Northern wing'd artillery
Thundered on our shattered ranks.
There Arista, best and bravest
There Raguena, tried and true,
On the fatal field thou lavest,
Nobly did all man could do.
Vainly there these heroes rally,
Castile on Montezuma's short;.
" Rio Bravo"'?" lloncesvalles,"
Yc are names blent evermore.
Weepes thou lone lady Inez,
For thy lover 'mid thn slain,
Brave La Vega's trenchant falchion
Cleft his slayer to the brain.
Brave La Vega who all lonely,
By a host of foes beset,
Yielding up his sabre only
When his eoual there he met.
Other champions not less noted,
Sleep beneath that sullen wave,
llio Bravo thou hast floated
An army to an ocean grave.
On they came, these Northern horsemen,
On like eagles towered the sun,
Followed then the Northern bayonet,
And the field was lo^t and won.
O! for Orlando's horn to rally
H is Palladins on that sad shore.
" Rio Bravo"?" Roncesvalles,"
Ye are names blent evermore.
Onigin of hie Names of Days.?It
may not be generally known that the
English names of the days of the week
are derived from the titles of Saxon deities.
In looking over Turner's History
of the Anglo-Saxons the other day, we
found the following table, which we
give for the benefit of the curi-jus:
Sunday Sun's day.
TVf 1 T\H ?l? A
lviuiiuay muuu o uay.
Wednesday Wednen's day.
Friday Friga's day.
Saturday Saturne's day.
The names of some of our religious
festivities arc also derived from the same
source. Thus Easter which is used to
fixnress ihp snnsnne of niir trrpal naschal
solemnities comes from Eetre, an Anglo
Saxon goddess, whose festivities were
celebrated in April.
It thus seems that the names of some
of the idols of our ancestors will be perpetuated
as long as the English language
Talleyrand ever made it a rule to forget
his past misfortunes. "Providence,"
he was accustomed to observe,u has given
us our eyes in front in order that we
might look before and not behind /"
Experience too frequently (like the
stern-lights of a vessel) throws a light
only on the path we have passed,
WILL be conspicuously inserted at 75
cents per 6quare lor tlie first insertion,
and 37? cents for each continuance?
longer ones charged in proportion. Those
not having the desirfcd number of insertions
marked upon them, will be continued
until ordered out, and charged accordingly.
^ ^ rr.
j.'or advertising Jti.sir.tys aoneu, two
DOLLARS, to be paid by the Magistrate.
For announcing a Candidate, TWO
DOLLARS, in advance.
0All letters or communications must
be directed to the Editor, postage paid.
Married or Unmarried?Get Married.?A
European philosopher has
furnished the world with some very in
teresung statistics, sliowmg the benehts
of a married life. He says among unmarried
men, at the ages of from thirtylive
to forty-five, the average number of
deaths are only eighteen. For forty-one
old bachelors who attain the ago of forty
there are seventy-eight married men
who do the same. As age advances,
the difference bccomes more striking.
At sixty there are only twenty-two unmarried
men alive, for ninety-eight who
have been married. At seventy, there
irn plix'nn In )tunnt?.cr>von
married men, at eighty, there arc nine
married men for three single ones.
Nearly the same rule holds good in rela- '
tion to the female sex. Married women /
at the age of thirty, taken one with an
other, ma)' expect tu live thirty-six years
longer j while for the unmarried, the
expectation of life is only about thirty
years. Of those who attain the age ot
lorty-five, there are seventy-two married
women for fifty-two single ladies.
Tlw?r> ;ii'i> llio vkciiIic nf
facts, by observing the dilierence of longevity
between the unmarried and the
California Volunteers.?Now difficulties
have broken out among the
California Volunteers at Governor's lsl
and, New York, which arc explained
at length in the New York Express
On Friday, the Regiment was marched
to the guard house lo receive their bounty
motley previous to embarking.
! The men of company C?the first
company marched up?refused to pay
the prices charged for their clothing, viz;
$ "5 for jackets. 83 for pants, and ?1,50
for caps. They were willing to pay a
fair price, but were confined for insubordination.
Company A. then came up ;
and refused. They were marched back
to their quarters, and confined to their
tents. Colonel Bankhead, finding the
refusal general, told them they would be
compelled to embark without their pay
?which they preferred to taking the
clothing at the prices charged.
More Plagiarisi* ?Somebody out
in the extreme back part of Missouri,
has discovered that Torn Moore, like
other great poets, has been filching the
ideas of another, and altering them to
suit himself. He cites the following
instance, which is Derfectlv unanswera
blc?the critical acumen of a Poet could
no further go :?
" The minstrel boy to the war is gone,
In the ranks of death you'll find him;
His far tiler's sword he has girdled on,
And his wild harp slung behind him."
Little Bo-Pecp has lost his sheep,
And does not know where to find 'em ;
Let 'em alone, and they'll come homej
Bringing their tales behind 'cm."
NEWSPAi'iiRS.?A newspaper taken
in a family seems to shed a gleam of
intelligence around. It gives the children
a taste for reading; it communicates
all the important events in the
busy world; it is a never-failing source of
amusement, and furnishes a fund of in
struction which will never be exhausted.
Every family, however poor, if they wish
to hold a place in the iank of intelligent
beings, should take at least one newspaper.
And the man who is possessed of
property sufficient to make himselfeasy
for life, surrounded by children eager
for knowledge, is instigated by the vile
spirit of cupidity, and neglects to subscribe
to a newpaper, is deficient in the
duties OI a parcuiut tt guuu uuiicn, aim
is deserving of the censure of his intelligent
Bradbury and Evans, of London, advertise
a new work, in monthly parts,
to be completed in twenty numbers, edited
by "Boz" and illustrated by k< Phiz."
It is to be called " Dealings with the
firm of Dombey & Sons," and the first
number appears at the opening of October.
N. A. L. D. The title conferred by
Yale on Professor Morse, with these
initials, is said by a Memphis paper to
mean North American Lightning1 Di.