The contents of the present number of the Messen ger will be found various and entertaining, many of them possessing uncommon merit. They are, like those of the last preceding number, entirely original. The continuation of the Manuscripts of D. D. Mitchell, is highly acceptable. The description of a Storm on the Prairies is told with much vigor, and will compare favorably with a similar scene in Mr. Hoffman's excel-interest, through a region of which, of all others, we lent itinerary of a Winter in the West.

Nos. XV and XVI of the "Letters of a Sister" are delightful. The vivacity and elegance of the style, and the feminine grace which breathes through the whole correspondence, are peculiarly observable in these numbers. The 2d and 3d chapters of "Lionel Granby" exhibit an improvement on the first. But we think the writer has chosen a bad model, since he displays sufficient ability to render his writings interesting without imitation. Perhaps unconsciously, he has fallen into what may be Among our Reviews, those upon Bancroft's History of denominated the Bulwerian style, one which pleases less the United States, and the Writings of General Washingthan almost any other in the hands of an imitator, aston, are from the gifted pen of the reviewer of the oralike that of Byron it is essentially an egotistical style.

Mr. Poe's story of " Hans Phaall," will add much to his reputation as an imaginative writer. In these bal-The description of the battle of Princeton (the only oclooning days, when every "puny whipster" is willing casion as we believe, in which Washington drew his to risk his neck in an attempt to "leave dull earth behind sword during the whole war,) is powerfully described him," and when we hear so much of the benefits which by the Old Officer, as also the great influence which the science is to derive from the art of ærostation, a journey to father of our liberties possessed and exercised over the the moon may not be considered a matter of mere moon-minds and actions of his followers. It is with great shine. Mr. Poe's scientific Dutch bellows-mender is pleasure we announce the writer of this admirable scene, certainly a prodigy, and the more to be admired, as he as one from whom future contributions to the Messenperforms impossibilities, and details them with a mi- 'ger may be anticipated.

For the Southern Literary Messenger. A STORM ON THE PRAIRIES. [From the Manuscripts of D. D. Mitchell, Esquire.]

the wind though considerably abated, continued to throw its light particles into such dense masses or clouds as to intercept the view beyond a short distance.

claimed to shoot him on the spot, in order that I might recover such articles as he carried on his back, and which might aid me in repelling the cold. I followed for nearly a mile, the horse and buffalo still walking

I left the Fort early in the morning of the 28th De-There was a kind of hillock or mound in the prairie, cember, accompanied as usual by my Spaniard and a about a half mile off, to which I directed my steps in few Canadian servants. The season thus far had been the hope that from its summit I might make some dis uncommonly fine, not a spot of snow was visible on the covery, and I was not disappointed. I thought that I prairies, and, as we passed along, the Elk, Antelope, saw a few hundred yards distant, the whole of my and Fox, were seen in various directions reposing with party collected together, and I instantly turned to all that lazy listlessness which the warm suns of March join them. Guess my astonishment, however, when and April never fail to produce upon both man and in lieu of my unfortunate comrades, I recognized my beast. There was in fact nothing to remind us of the horse standing all benumbed and shivering with cold, presence of winter, except the barren nakedness of in company with a few old buffalo bulls. I approached nature, and the long range of the rocky mountains very near before they saw me, but on reaching out my whose snowy peaks glittered in the sun, and whose hand to seize my horse's bridle, the buffaloes took to hoary summits stretching far to the north and south, flight, and whether it was that my horse being a regu were undistinguishable from the white vapory clouds lar hunter, followed them from habit, or clung to them which floated around them. Towards evening, how-in the present instance as companions in misfortune, I ever, a fresh gale sprung up from the north, and a very do not know,—but so it was that he scampered off with sensible change in the temperature was experienced. the rest, and by his ill timed desertion greatly aggravaWe drew our Buffalo robes closer around us, and jog-ted my distress. I was now thirty miles from home,— ged on, talking and laughing away the time, inattentive the night was fast approaching and the weather into the signs of the storm which was rapidly gathering. tensely cold. What was I to do? If I lay in the open A few flakes of snow began to descend, and the sun prairie, without the means of kindling a fire, I knew that became suddenly obscured. We were now sensible the snow would at once be my winding sheet and grave: that a snow storm of unusual violence was fast ap- the thought too of my companions, and their uncertain proaching, and we laid whip to our horses, in the hope fate, added poignancy to my reflections. of reaching the shelter afforded by a spot of timbered After a few moments of melancholy musing, I deterground, about eight miles distant. The tempest how-mined to pursue my horse, and if he could not be reever had already burst upon us in all its fury; large snow-flakes came whirling and eddying about our heads, which were caught up by the wind before they could fall to the earth;-darkness and confusion increased every moment, and in half an hour it was im-off before me, when my patience being entirely expossible to see ten paces before us. Our horses now became blind and ungovernable, some dashing away with their riders across the prairies, heedless of what direction they took, and others taking a firm and immoveable position with their heads opposite to the wind and refusing to stir an inch. Of course, all of us became soon separated. It was of no use to call out to each other, for our voices were drowned in the roar of the tempest, and could not be heard twenty steps. In this emergency I dismounted from my steed, and leav-conduct, it is of course impossible to tell, but so it was ing him to his fate, endeavored to keep myself warm by vigorous exercise. Blinded and chilled by the wind and snow, I stumbled forward, groping my way in darkness, and regardless of the route which I took. At length, having proceeded some distance, 1 tumbled headlong into a deep ravine filled with snow, from which, with all my efforts, enfeebled as I was by fatigue, I was unable to extricate myself. After some rest and many unavailing trials, I at length crawled out, and perceiving at some little distance a kind of shelter formed by an overhanging rock, I immediately sought it, and wrapping my cloak and blanket around me, sat down in no enviable mood, contemplating my forlorn and apparently hopeless condition. After remaining in the ravine about two hours, the fury of the storm subsided, when on making a careful examination I dis-less prairie, in the hope of descrying some timbered spot covered a place in the bank which was of comparatively easy ascent, and accordingly succeeded in gaining the level prairies. I looked around for my unfortunate companions, but no vestige of them was to be seen. The snow lay piled up in ridges several feet high, and

hausted, I took deliberate aim and fired. The ball however fell short of its mark, the buffaloes ran off at full speed, and my horse, greatly to my surprise, instead of following the bad example of flight, suddenly pricked up his ears and looked inquiringly around. Whether it was that he knew the report of my gun, which had so often brought down the buffalo, when mounted on his back, or that he really took compassion on my desolate situation and repented his ungrateful

that he turned round and hastened to meet me at a brisk trot. When he approached very near, he stopped and seemed irresolute, but having reloaded my gun I was resolved that he should not again escape. I made towards him as warily as possible, when making a sudden spring I seized the bridle, and in a few moments was safely seated on his back.

A moment before I could have exclaimed with the ill-fated Richard, "a horse! a horse! my kingdom for a horse!" but now that I had reclaimed my own, I found my situation but little alleviated. The sun had already sunk far behind the mountains, and the wind, which blew directly from the north, came with such intense bitterness that in spite of my clothing and robe, it seemed to penetrate my very vitals. I gazed round on the bound

which should serve as a place of refuge, but all was one dreary waste. Nothing was to be seen but a broad expanse of plain, undulated by ridges of snow-and nothing heard but the hollow and mournful gusts which swept over the desolate scene and sounded like a fune

For the Southern Literary Messenger.
LETTERS FROM A SISTER.
LETTER FIFTEENTH.

Foundling Hospital-Hotel Carnavalet-Count de Ségur.
PARIS,

This morning, dear Jane, we visited the Foundling Hospital. Being told we should go there very early to behold the emptying of the baskets in which the babes are deposited at the gate during the night, we hastened there ere seven o'clock; but we had been misinformed,

ral dirge. My apprehensions were gloomy enough, he circles in the air, and watches the last vital spark as and losing all confidence in my own half-bewildered it vanishes--disturbs the dying moments of the victim! reason, I threw the reins on the neck of my horse, and giving him the whip, surrendered the choice of the route to his own better instinct. The sagacious brute seemed conscious of his new responsibility, and as if to atone for his unkind treatment after the storm, he gave a loud neigh, and then sprung off at a sweeping gallop which he continued for an hour and a half. It was now completely dark, and I was so thoroughly benumbed with cold, that I could scarcely retain my seat. I felt indeed like one lingering on the very brink of despair, when my horse suddenly gave another loud neigh which was instantly returned. He sprang forward with re-and were disappointed in our wishes. The infants are newed life and spirit, and in a moment after, upor reaching the top of some rising ground, a large fire sent up its cheerful blaze to my view; and to my utter surprise as well as delight, I beheld my companions who were so recently dispersed by the storm, comfortably seated around it. With a loud shout of congratulation I hurried down the hill and joined them. A sailor who has been wrecked at sea, and who after buffeting the stormy billows until nature is exhausted, is at length cast on shore by some friendly wave, never felt a more thrilling sensation of pleasure or thankfulness, than I did at that moment. In the fulness of my heart 1 most fervently thanked heaven for its protection; then seizing my horse around the neck, I tenderly embraced him, and poured forth my gratitude and forgiveness to his unconscious ear. Many no doubt would be disposed to smile at this seeming folly; but let them reflect that when the spirit has been raised from the lowest depths of despair to the highest summit of hope and enjoyment-the man must be cold indeed who does not evince some extravagance in feeling or conduct, as in the case of the poor man, whose fortunes are suddenly made by a prize in the lottery, some excuse may be given for a few irrational freaks and absurd eccentricities. Like all excessive joy, however, mine was but temporary—or at least not unalloyed, for I soon discovered that one of my men was missing, having been separated from his companions during the storm, and not since

seen or heard of.

carried there at all hours; none however were received during our visit. We were conducted through the numerous wards, and saw many forsaken little creatures-a distressing sight, indeed! Then to behold the sufferings of such as were diseased! Some of them lying on hard beds, with a bright light from opposite windows torturing their eyes, which were generally inflamed from being thus exposed. Some of the nurses too, were exceedingly rough. For instance, in an apartment attached to the sick wards, four or five women were occupied in dosing and feeding several babes-one of them asked another who stood by a table, to hand her a spoon; instead of handing it, she threw it, and so carelessly, that the poor child received

a blow on the cheek. I could have boxed the vixen! Each infant is swathed, and wears on its wrist a piece of pewter, telling the hour, the day of the month, and the year of its reception at the hospital; this enables a parent who may desire to reclaim a child, to find it. About six thousand children are annually received here, and frequently as many as twenty in the course of a day. A considerable number are sent into the country to be nursed, and during our stay, a half a dozen carts drove off, filled with peasant women and their helpless charges. The destiny of these we thought enviable, when compared with that of those who remained. At two years of age, the children are removed to another hospital, and there instructed until old enough to be put to some trade.

After breakfast, we visited a place of a more pleasing description; this was the Hotel de Carnavalet, formerly the residence of Madame de Sévigné. It is now inhabited by a Monsieur de P, an eminent engineer, with whom we have become acquainted, and who kindly invited us there, to see the very chamber and cabinet occupied by that lady, when she penned those

dow of the cabinet overlooks a small garden, in which is a flourishing yew tree, that was planted by Madame de Sévigné herself. As I viewed it, and thought of her who reared it, Lord Byron's beautiful lines on the cypress came forcibly to my mind.

With the aid of a large fire, a sufficient number of blankets, and a bottle of old Jamaica, we contrived to pass the night in tolerable comfort, notwithstanding the cold, which was tremendous. Early next morning, we proceeded to scour the prairie in search of our lost companion. We searched until late in the eveningbut all our efforts were vain, and we returned once more to the camp. The unfortunate man had doubt-charming letters to the Countess de Grignan. The winless fallen a victim to the fury of the storm,-for we never heard of him more. His body probably lay wrapped in its snowy shroud until spring, when at last it was revealed to the eager eyes of ravenous birds and beasts. Death is in any shape appalling; and his near approach will for a moment shake the stoutest heart. It will even blanch the cheek of the hero, surrounded by the "pomp and circumstance of glorious war." What then must be the situation of him who is overtaken by the violence of the wintry storm, and sinks, ex-dence in the Rue Duphot. He was here yesterday, hausted by cold and weariness, on the trackless prairie. For the last time he hears the night wind, as it chants his funeral dirge,-whilst the mournful howl of the starving wolf, or the scream of the ill-omened raven, as

"Dark tree! still sad when other's grief is fled,
The only constant mourner o'er the dead."

The charming old Count de Ségur has returned to town, and we have paid him our respects at his resi

and invited us to dine with him en famille to-day; we are going, and I shall close my letter with an account of the party, when we come back. At present I must abandon the writing desk for the toilet table.

Eleven at night. We reached home a half an hour who dragged the corpses from their graves, loaded them since, and having changed my dress for a robe de cham- with indignities, and cast them into ditches and other bre, behold me quite at my ease, and again in posses-places of filth. It is related that the corpse of the brave sion of the pen. We spent our hours delightfully at Louis XIV, when thus profaned, raised its arm, as if to the Count's! On alighting there, we were for some strike the miscreant who dared the deed, while that of the minutes sole tenants of the parlor, and thus had an op- good Henri Quatre (which was found uninjured by time) portunity of examining a beautiful portrait that deco- smiled benignantly on his ungrateful subjects! The rates the wall of the room, and which we afterwards tombs have since been restored by Napoleon, who inlearned, is that of the late Countess de Ségur. It was tended for himself and his descendants the vault which painted during her youth, and if the resemblance be a is appropriated to the Bourbons. It is secured by two good one, she must have been a lovely creature! Our massive bronze gates, which he had made to close upon observations were interrupted by the entrance of the his own ashes, that now repose under a simple stone Count from his library, adjoining the parlor-and our on the barren island of St. Helena! So changes the circle was soon increased by the addition of several glory of this world and its mighty ones! The Abbey French gentlemen, to whom he introduced us, but I of Saint Denis was originally a plain chapel, erected quite forget their names. One of them had recently by a pious and wealthy lady named Catulla, to shelter been in Greece, and described a horrible scene of car- the remains of that martyr (St. Denis) and his companage he witnessed there. In the evening the Count had nions, after their execution. The generosity and care many visiters, this being the time he prefers his friends of various monarchs, have transformed the humble chato call on him. Among those who came in, was the pel into the present majestic cathedral. The relics of authoress of "Adèle de Senange," that interesting novel St. Denis are enclosed in a splendid shrine, the gift of we read together last winter. You may depend I Louis XVIII; and the sumptuous altar in front of heard the name of Madame de S― announced with this, with its enormous gold candlesticks, was given to great satisfaction. She entered, and we beheld a plain the church by Bonaparte, after his marriage with the looking woman, apparently about fifty years old. Then Empress Marie Louise, on which occasion it was there was Monsieur de Marbois, who wrote the history first erected in the Louvre, where the ceremony was of Louisiana, one of the United States; and Count performed. In the side aisles of St. Denis, are several Philip de Ségur, author of the "Russian Campaign," superb monuments, in memory of Francis I, Henry who is considered the ablest military historian of the II, and Henry III, and their queens. The antique seage. I am now so sleepy I can write no more, so bid pulchres of Dagobert, and his spouse Nantilde, are you, in the name of all of us, a fond adieu. near the door, and that of Dagobert most curiously carved. In one of the vaults we saw the stone coffin of King Pepin; it is open and empty, and when struck upon the side, sounds like metal. Near the mausoleum of Francis I, stands the mimic bier of Louis XVIII, canopied and richly decorated with funereal ornaments. It will remain until succeeded by that of Charles X, for such is the custom of France. What gave rise to it I know not; but we may reasonably suppose that it was intended, like the monitor of Philip of Macedon, to remind the reigning monarch of his mortality.

LETTER SIXTEENTH.

LEONTINE.

Saint Denis--Montmorency—the Rendezvous-the Hermitage
Enghien-Mass at the Tuileries' Chapel-the Bourbons.
PARIS,

Dear Jane :

Marcella Erisford has arrived, accompanied by her father, who returns to Soissons to-morrow. He has been residing there eleven months, in order to settle some business, relative to a legacy left him by an intimate friend; in the spring he expects to re-embark for Philadelphia, his native city. He resembles his sister, Mrs. Danville, and appears equally amiable and desirous of contributing to the happiness of those around him. We shall sincerely regret his departure. Marcella is quite a beauty, with her glowing cheeks, hazel eyes and pearly teeth, although her features are by no means regular. She is less lively than Leonora, but just as intelligent and accomplished; so you see I have two delightful companions to console me (if it were possible) for your absence. Our brother Edgar is, I think, desperately smitten with Marcella; certes, when she is by, he has neither eyes or ears for any body or anything else.

Now for our peregrinations. The weather being remarkably fine on Tuesday, and the carriages at the door by nine o'clock, according to order, we proceeded to Montmorency and the Abbey of St. Denis. Oh, how your pensive spirit will luxuriate in wandering through the solemn aisles and caverns of this "hoary pile," among the sepulchres of its mighty dead! You are aware that during the revolution, this asylum of deceased royalty, was invaded by a barbarous populace,

At Montmorency we had fine sport riding about on donkeys to the different points of view that merit notice for their beauty. The little animal upon which Mr. Erisford rode, was at first extremely refractory, and the trouble he had to force it along excited our mirth; then my saddle girth broke, and this was another source of merriment. After riding over the valley, we alighted at the hunting seat of the unhappy father of the murdered Duke d'Enghien, the present prince of Condé, who is said to be yet overwhelmed with affliction at the untimely and cruel end of his noble son. The place is called the "Rendezvous;" it is shady and pleasantthe house a plain stone building: we did not enter it, but partook of some cool milk beneath the trees, in front of the door. We purchased it of the game keeper and his wife, who reside there. Retracing our path, (and the little donkeys, I assure you, trotted back much faster than they went,) we stopped at the Hermitage. This is the most interesting object to be seen at Montmorency, and indeed the chief attraction to that spotalthough circumstances induced us to defer our visit to it till the last. It is a quarter of a mile from the village, and was the residence of Jean Jacques Rousseau, and afterwards of Andrew Gretry, the musical composer,

LEONTINE.

P. S. Our guests proved to be General and Mr. George Washington Lafayette. They came to take leave of us ere their departure for La Grange. The

country to-morrow, where the rest of the family have already established themselves. We have been so pressingly invited to pay them a visit, that we have determined to do so, and anticipate great pleasure and gratification from spending a day or two in the midst of this charming and highly respected family. Again adieu.

L.

For the Southern Literary Messenger.
MY DAUGHTER'S LULLABY.
Tune-"The Sunset Tree."

Come! Come! Come!

Come to thy Mother's breast!

The day begins to close:
And the bright, but fading west

Invites thee to repose.
The frolic and the fun

Of thy childish sports are o'er:
But, with to-morrow's sun,

To be renewed once more.

Come! Come! Come!

Come to thy Mother's breast!
The day begins to close:
And the bright, but fading west
Invites thee to repose.

whose family still occupy it. They are so obliging as | boulevards were first introduced, she made a bet with to allow strangers to visit this rural retreat of those the king that she would ride in one of them, and actucelebrated men, and have arranged in a small apart-ally did so, in disguise! I am summoned to the parlor ment, various articles that were owned and used by to receive visiters-so kiss my hand to you. them, and that are consequently interesting to the spectator; for instance, the bedstead and table of Rousseau; the cup and saucer of Gretry; his comb and spectacles, and the antique little spinet upon which he tried his compositions. A flower garden adjoins the man-Chamber of Deputies having dissolved, they go to the sion, and there we saw a rose bush that was planted by Jean Jacques, and the stone bench upon which he used to sit while writing his "Héloise." From the bay tree that shades it, I procured a leaf for your herbarium. A rivulet meanders through the garden, and empties into a small lake, near which is the bust of Gretry, supported by a column, with an inscription in gilt letters. Rousseau's bust occupies a niche in the wall, and is covered with a glass to protect it from the pencils of scribblers, which have disfigured it considerably. Bidding adieu to the Hermitage, we returned to the "White Horse," an excellent inn we had selected in the town, and having recruited ourselves with a hearty dinner, resumed our seats upon the donkeys, and repaired to the village of d'Enghien, (a mile distant,) to see its neat and commodious sulphur baths, and the pretty lake of St. Gratien, on the border of which it stands. In the centre of the water is a restaurant, to which, if you choose, you are conveyed in a boat; but it was so late, that our parents would not consent to make this aquatic excursion, and we therefore returned to Montmorency, and thence to Paris. A bright moon lighted us home, where we arrived about eleven o'clock, pleased with our day's adventures, and so sleepy we could scarcely reach our chambers without falling into a slumber on the way. On Sunday Mr. Dorval brought us six tickets of admission to the Chapel of the Tuileries, where high mass is performed every Sabbath while the king is in the city. Not a moment was to be lost, so we hastened to array ourselves for the occasion, as full dress is required if you sit in the gallery with the royal family, and our billets were such as to admit us there. Marcella, Leonora and myself had just purchased new bonnets, and these we wore. Their's are of straw colored crape, ornamented with blond and bunches of lilacs, and are very becoming; mine is of pink, and decorated with blond and white hyacynths. Our party, consisting of Mamma, Papa, Edgar, and our three ladyships, was soon ready and at the palace. The chapel was crowded, but we found no difficulty in obtaining seats-for on presenting our tickets, the captain of the guards handed us to them, and the throng yielded to him without hesitation. The music was very fine, and we had a close view of the Bourbons and their suite. They were sumptuously clad, and the King and Duke and Duchess of Angoulême seemed very devout. The Duchess has a most melancholy expression of countenance, owing perhaps to the sad vicissitudes of her youth. Neither she, her spouse or uncle are popular. The Duchess de Berri is exceedingly so, and is considered one of the most charitable ladies in the kingdom. She is extremely fair, has light hair and a pleasing face. She is not sufficiently dignified, I think, and is a terrible fidget; during service she was continually adjusting her tucker, necklace, or sleeve. It is reported, that when the omnibuses, or circulating carriages of the

Sweet! Sweet! Sweet!

Sweet on thy Mother's knee!
To con thine evening prayer,
To him who watches thee

With a Father's tender care.
For parents and for friends
Then breathe thy simple vow;
And when life's evening ends,
Be innocent as now.

Come! Come! Come!

Come to thy Mother's breast!
The day begins to close:
And the darkening of the west
Invites thee to repose.

Sleep! Sleep! Sleep!

Sleep till the morning beams!
My song is in thine ear,
To mingle with thy dreams,

And to tell thee I am near.
Bright be thy dreams, my child!
Bright as thy waking eyes,
As the morning beaming mild,
Or the hope that never dies.

Sleep! Sleep! Sleep!

Sleep on thy Mother's breast!

Thine eyes begin to close;
And she that loves thee best

Has lulled thee to repose.