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78 THE COURANT; A SOUTHERN LITERARY JOURNAL.
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heroine, a genuine Laura Matilda; while the monk,--oh the
monk! comes up to all the requirements of the stage for a
"repentant sinner;" he is the old style "reformed high-
wayman," whom we have all seen figuring in melo-drama,
and the thrilling romances of Mr. Sylvanus Cobb and Mr. Ned
Buntline.
Here and there we find, throughout the volume, occasional
scraps of good writing; some of which we append hereto, in
order that our readers, having seen us find fault, may also see
that we are yet willing to give Mr. JAMES credit for whatver
of good is contained in the volume.

SIR EDWARD AND LUCETTE.
On the evening of a summer's day, in 164--, a lady and gen-
tleman in the prime of life walked slowly up and down, convers-
ing gravely but not eagerly, while ever and anon he would
pause for a moment, and trace with the point of his sheathed
sword what seemed the plan of a town or a battle-field. Two
handsomer people have seldom been seen; and Time had laid
his hand but lightly on the head of either, though a gray hair
here and there marked that passage of days had not been
without its effect. The lady's face was beautifully fair, and not
a line or wrinkle showed the work of age; but the face of her
companion told tales of exposure and of strife. There was a
deep scar upon his right cheek, and an indentation on his left
brow, covered over with a black patch, as if the wound which
had made it was barely healed. He was active and vigorous,
however, though somewhat spare in form; and his face had
more the expression of joy than cheerfulness; for although his
eye lighted up when he looked down upon the beautiful counte-
nance of his beloved wife, yet, from time to time, a look of sad
and earnest thought would come like the shadow of a deep
cloud upon him, and only pass away when the musical tones of
her sweet voice sounded in his ear

A PORTRAIT.
The apartment was evidently used as a music-room; for va-
rious instruments of music were scattered about, and several of
the curious old music-books of those days were lying on tables,
and even on chairs. Seated near the window, which was open,
was a young man of about three-and-twenty years of age,
dressed with exceeding plainness, but with very great taste.--
His garb was of that beautiful form and arrangement which we
see so frequently represented by the pencil of Vandyck. The
collar it is true, was of plain linen, as were also the turned-up
wristbands; but they were cut into the most beautiful shapes,
and every line of the garments which he wore seemed to flow
into another with an easy grace which made, as it were, the
poetry of costume. The cloth of the coat was not fine--nor
was it, as sometimes happened in that age, gaudy in coloring;
but every hue was so blended that, to use what some people
may consider contradictory language, harmony was produced
by opposition.

THE ATTACK.
The next moment the discharge of a gun was heard, and then
the shrill blast of a trumpet; and in a few seconds the loud and
confused noise of drums, cymbals and trumpets was heard from
a spot some three hundred yards distant. The same sounds
were taken up on the right, then on the left, in some eight or
ten places, mingled with the roar of two or three pieces of ar-
tillery, together with the scattered firing of small-arms, and a
hideous roar of human voices. Then suddenly a bright blaze
broke forth upon the left, showing a village all in flames, with
the church-tower plainly distinguishable in the midst. Another
and another hamlet was fired, and, in an amazingly short space
of time, the whole plain was illuminated almost as brightly as
if the sun shone upon it; and confused masses of fugitives were
seen rushing in terror and disarray from the various villages,
where the royal army had been quartered, toward the head of
a causeway across some marshy land, while the small but com-
pact bands of Conde's horsemen pursued the flying, and cut
them down without mercy.

DUTY.
The incident of the night passed as a matter of small moment
to men whose whole life was spent in daily peril and excite-
ment. A man had been killed; a life had gone out; an active,
busy human existence, with all its feelings and sympathies, its
faults and follies, and mayhap its virtues, too, had been extin-
guished; but what was that to them? They had seen many a
man so die; they were ready so to do the ensuing day them-
selves. We get too soft in our closets; the battle-field is the
place to steel men's hearts against the enervating sympathies
of this most mortal state of being. What were the feelings of
the Earl of Dartmoor? His hand had fired the shot. His de-
liberate aim had taken the life of him who had just been carried
out. His heart was as warm and kind and generous as any in
the world--as unwilling to give pain, as liberal to afford pleas-
ure, as tender of another's feelings, as careful of another's life;
but it was by no means weak. He felt no hesitation when he
fired. He had felt no regret after it was done. He had done
his duty. That was enough for him.

NIGHT AND SLEEP.
What a wonderful and blessed thing is night, when nature
withdraws the stimulous poured upon the brain through the
little channel of the eye, and all the cares and fatigues of the
past day, like sour nurses who have been cross with the way-
ward child till it was weary, turn kind and compassionate at
last, and rock the mind to sleep. "The blanket of dark,"
Shakspeare calls it, and contrasts it with heaven. Now, doubt-
less there is many a wicked thing done behind the blanket; but
I see not why the misuse of any of Heaven's best gifts by man
and man's passions should take away from the value of that
gift. The best boon that ever was conveyed can be abused;
and we have no one to thank for the evil but ourselves. When
God created the evil and the good, he permitted the evil, but
ordained the good, and left man to choose between them.

SYMPATHY OF MIND.
Every passion is infectious, or rather there is that natural
tendency to sympathy in the mind of man, that sixty centuries
of crime and suffering have not been able to extinguish the feel-
ing of brotherhood with all things which God implanted origin-
ally in the human heart. To laugh with those who laugh, to
weep with those who weep, is the natural tendency of every
one; and we are inclined to take part in all that is joyous, if it
be but the happiness of beasts that perish, or the gay aspect of
even an inanimate scene. The mind is, as it were, a mirror
reflecting the objects around it, and taking from all a coloring
not its own. The whole party became merry, and even Master
Bernard himself shook off the reserve and gravity of his ordi-
nary demeanor, and laughed and chatted with a cheerful coun-
tenance and an open heart.

DELICIOUS SILENCE.
There is such a thing as "delicious silence," although the old
gentleman who first put those two words in such near relation-
ship was, I believe, well laughed at in his day and genera-
tion, by the daws and other small birds, who live by pecking
the fruits of literature. Yes, I have known and felt it, when I
have escaped from buzzing crowds and rushing carriages, from
all the commingled sounds of joy and sorrow, folly, remorse,
anguish, selfishness, despair, merriment and madness, which
roar in a great city, to the calm, quiet woods, or solitary glens
of my native land. I have felt it still more profoundly when in
the ancient forest of the New World. The charms of strong
contrast are not added, indeed, to heighten the impression of
the stillness, but that stillness is so profound that silence is not
only delicious but sublime.

THE BETROTHAL.
It was not the music, though it is exquisite, nor the words,
though they probably said all that Bernard March could intent
to say, which gave force to the song. It was the look and the
manner which put the stamp, of the heart upon the poetry, and
as so often happens, brought the latent truth forth from its nest
of flowers. The name of love was then first mentioned between
them. Then, for the first time, that musical--that magic word
sounded on Lucy's ear. Then, for the first time, the enigma
which is written in dark characters on every woman's heart was
solved for her, and Lucy felt fully she was beloved, and that
she loved in return. When in the tales of fairy-land the talis-
man is first touched by the hand destined to possess it, the
shrine trembles, the guardian spirits grow faint before the will
of Fate, and the temple is shaken to its foundation. Was it
not so with poor Lucy Langdale when first the great mystery
of her feelings and his was unveiled to her? Ah, yes! Her
limbs quivered like a leaf in the light wind of spring, her cheek
turned pale, her heart beat as if it would have burst; and she
would have fallen forward on the ground, but that there were
arms open to catch her. "Mine, Lucy, mine!" murmured
Bernard March, as he pressed her to his heart. "Mine, with
your father and your mother's full consent. Oh, say that you
are mine!" For a moment she was silent, and some tears
crushed themselves among her jetty eyelashes, and glittered like
diamond sparks upon the lids; but the clasp of her hand upon
his grew somewhat firmer, and at last she looked up for an in-
stant, and the one word "Bernard!" told all that could be told.
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"LITERARY COINCIDENCE."
Is it not a little odd that we, who have been pointing out so
many coincidences in the writings of others, should commit one
ourself? Speaking of Paul Morphy, DICKENS said, (or at least,
the paragraph bearing his name says):
"Ah me! I am an old-fashioned fellow that has played
chess--Heaven forgive me!--these forty years; but if in all
that time I had only written one really fine poem, or painted
one really fine picture, or delivered one really perfect oration,
or made one nice little bit of melody, which the people will
sing years hence, I should consider that I had achieved a far
greater intellectual triumph than if I had vanquished fifty
thousand chess champions, armed in proof and led by sallow
Morphy."
Now we never saw this, until a friend, who had read our ar-
ticle on Morphy's "exploits," (published last week as our lit-
erary notice), called our attention to it. Lo! we had said,
quite innocently of a desire to borrow from DICKENS, or any-
body else, without credit:
"Morphy must be heartily tired of these admireres, who are
putting him in such a false light. He knows that Chess is a
noble game, but he has sense enough to know that it is not a
"business," a vocation, or even in the best presentation, a
ground for felicitation upon "intellectual triumphs;" and
doubtless, he had rather have written one great Poem, or
have painted one great picture, or have made one such legal
argument as Bosten has heard, or have lived one hour of the life
of a great statesman, a philanthropist or patriot, than have all
these "triumphs," with the praises of the modern Athens,
and the homage of the commercial metropolist."
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MANGAN'S POEMS.
The Southern Citizen says, amongst its answers to correspon-
dents:
"A correspondent without a name sends us a communication
respecting Mangan and his poems. Our nameless correspon-
dent will rejoice to hear that there is now in preparation, and
will be published in a few weeks at New York, a copious selec-
tion from Mangan's poems, both translated and original; with
an introduction containing all that is known of Mangan's life
and death.
Hitherto this most exquisite of poets has been comparatively
unknown in America--for the single reason, that he is unknown
in England. He disdained to attorn to British taste, or so much
as to publish a solitary poem on British ground. Therefore
the English know nothing, and want to know nothing, about
him. What the English don't know, is held supererogatory for
an American. Nevertheless, a bold publisher, P. M. Haverty,
of Fulton street, already well known by his enterprise as an
Irish publisher--the father of O'Mahony's Keating, and of the
selection of "Two Hundred Irish Airs," undertakes to launch
forth on the tide or cataclysm of American literature, a hand-
some "Clarence Mangan"--let it sink or swim.
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When Sir William Hamilton announced to the Royal Irish
Academy his discovery of the central sun--the star round which
our orb of day and his planetary attendants revolve--a wag-
gish member exclaimed, "What! our sun's sun! why that must
be a grand-sun!"
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BIBLICAL KNOWLEDGE.
We are more and more satisfied, from several samples of
Bible-reading which have come under our observation, that
our public characters, especially politicians, ought to be care-
ful how they meddle with Scripture.
Gov. Wise, of Virginia, in his recent letter to Hon. David
Hubbard, says: "The Reubens have tried to sell me into
Egypt for my dreaming." Whereupon the New York Express
says: "The Governor has reference, doubtless, to the story
of Joseph being sold into Egypt--but, unfortunately, he has
got it all wrong. Reuben, it so happens, was the only one of
the brothers who did not want to sell him. The Governor
should join a Bible-class right off, and let Goggin go.
A member of Congress, from Illinois, a few years ago (Mr.
Hoge), is reported as quoting in debate the following lines as
coming from the Bible:
"While the lamp holds out to burn,
The vilest sinner may return."
This Scripture quotation of Mr. Hoge brings to mind an an-
ecdote related to us by a clergyman, as occurring within his
knowledge. A good woman (the "weaker vessel," very likely,
of the two) had lost her husband by death--and receiving a
visit of condolence from the minister, she entered pretty fully
into a detail of her feelings of loneliness and grief, in her
widowed condition. She said she found herself going back
and forth, wandering about the house all day long, from garret
to cellar--now looking into the room where her poor, dear
husband died, then trying to divert her mind by doing chores
about the house, and then, again, going to the good Book for
consolation. She was, she said, a poor lone woman--and she
couldn't help thinking all day long of that very touching pas-
sage of Scripture--in the Book of Lamentations, she believed
it was--which hit her case exactly: "Goosey, Goosey, Gander,
where will you wander?"
Col. Benton in the United States Senate, is reported as
speaking of our Savior having cast seven devils out of a cer-
tain man; and Waddy Thompson, a former member of Con-
gress and Minister to Mexico, in his "Recollections" of that
country, speaking of the Hospital of Lazarus, says: "The in-
mates would have rivalled, in sores and rags, the brother of
Mary and Martha."
It is recorded that two members of a certain State Legisla-
ture, at the close of the session, addresed a circular to their
constituents, in which they said: "We hope the course we
have pursued, and the votes we have given, will meet your ap-
probation. We hope you will say to us, as Nathan said to
David, 'Well done thou good and faithful servants.'"
Another member, earnestly opposing a measure before the
House, said: "Mr. Speaker, I would no more vote for that
measure, than I would fall down and worship the golden calf
that Abraham made." A brother member corrected him, say-
ing: "Mr. Speaker, it was not Abraham that made the golden
calf, it was Nebuchadnezzer."
That "great men are not always wise," is still further exem-
plified in an anecdote of a distinguished English Judge. Lord
Kenyon, who understood law better than Gospel, closed one of
his charges to a jury, as follows: "Finally, gentlemen, I
would call your attention to the example of the Roman Empe-
ror, Julian, who was so distinguished for every Christian vir-
tue, that he was called Julian the Apostle"
That editors should occasionally be at fault in the Scriptures'
is not, perhpps, very strange. We have room for only one ex-
ample. In giving an obituary notice of a worthy man, it was
remarked: "We may say of him, as the Holy scriptures have
so beautifully expressed it, 'An honest man is the noblest
work of God;' and, in regard to the afflicted family, convey to
them the consoling assurance from the same blessed source,
that 'God tempers the wind to the shorn lamb.'"--Bangor
Whig and Courier.
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ORGANS AND ORGAN-HARMONIUMS.--The following notice of
the church and parlor instruments manufactured by Mason
and Hamlin, of this city, is taken from the Tri-Weekly Tele-
graph, published at Houston, Texas. We are told that the
organ-harmoniums of Mason and Hamlin are being very gen-
erally introduced by churches of moderate size and means, and
that they prove a very successful and adequate substitute for
the more expensive pipe organs. Church committees and so-
cieties in need of low-priced church organs would do well to
examine these instruments:--
Organ-Harmonium.--A new instrument of this name has just
been put up in the Presbyterian church in this city. It is from
the noted manufactory of Mason and Hamlin, Boston, who are
the inventors, having three distinct patents, and who have
probably spent more time and study in perfecting and elabora-
ting the reed instrument than any other manufacturers. This
instrument contains two rows of keys and eight stops, three
swells, and a pedal base, and combines many of the finest
effects of the organ. Its variety of power and effect, light and
shade, quality of tone and fine expression, are truly surprising
to any one who have an appreciating ear. It may be played
softly as the softest melodeon, and when all the stops are
drawn, the volume of tone is equal to that of a large-sized pipe
organ. Musicians prefer this instrument to a pipe organ that
would not cost more than twice as much, being equally power-
ful, and capable of a greater variety of expression. This in-
strument cost four hundred dollars; a pipe organ of no more
power, and one that would be sufficient for even a small church,
would cost seven or eight hundred dollars. We advise churches
everywhere, that do not feel able to procure a pipe organ, to
introduce this organ-harmonium; it will equally well sustain
and increase interest in the music of the church. It is certain-
ly the most finished and beautiful instrument of the kind we
have ever seen."
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The literary column of the Philadelphia Press of Tuesday,
apropos of Court ceremonials, is severe upon Queen Victoria's
Court Circular, for the parade it makes of "Royal Highness and
Highnesses" in its account of the Princess Alice's Confirma-
tion, but says, "it is probable that if the Court Circular had
not gone into teh circumlocution which we here condemn,
Qeen Victoria would have flown into one of her great rages--
just as when, in 1839, she literally trampled on the Morning
Post, which contained the correspondence between the March-
ioness of Hastings and Lord Melbourne, touching the Court
slanders upon the poor Lady Flora Hastings."
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