"To a miracle, then, which swept away all that could recall that day of death, when the windows of heaven were opened' upon mankind, we must refer what no natural means are adequate to explain." I trust I have been able to cast some light on the character of this philanthropist and philosopher. If you think proper to publish any part of these facts in your excellent journal, they are entirely at your service. Erroneous impressions of the character of a good man, ought to be cleared away. THE AURORA.* Mr. White: I pity the person who did not see the glories of the heavens on Tuesday night, the th of November-still more the person who saw and did not wonder and adore. Being in the country, I had a chance to see all around me. You who are in the city are prisoned in by hot brick walls, so that many of you can only see directly over head. Permit me therefore, to whisper into the ears of some of your readers, a feeble attempt at description of that which, even if seen by all, ought not to pass wholly without comment. For these things do not speak to us every night. They are as angel visits-and when they have gone, we feel indeed as if angels had been ministering unto us. As to your second request, that I would indicate something of the nature of the proposed institution, if I can find time I will give you a few thoughts. A determination on this point is not difficult; we ought to be guided by the known wishes of the testator,--by the wants of education generally, and, lastly, by a consideration of what modifications are needed to make it har-deep, rosy, blushing red. These streams at first shot from the monize with principles and institutions existing among EVE'S COMPLIMENT TO ADAM. Milton, Paradise Lost, Book IV. TRANSLATION INTO LATIN HEXAMETERS. Dulce novi solis jubar, et prædulcis Eõus Nec Philomela juvat, sine te, charissime conjux! G. W. M, Early in the evening I was called out of the house by the exclamation of friends, "What is it?" I thought the sky was starry and perfectly cloudless-the air perfectly still. But what a sight was there! Had the fountains of morning burst out upon the night, in impatience or wild mischief? The whole heavens were wavering and spreading with broad streams of light, some of them of pure white, like moonlight upon snow; others of a horizon around, upwards to the zenith, where they formed into a centre. Then, after remaining nearly motionless awhile, they shot downwards again; sometimes vanishing, and then reappearing in full vividness and condensed into long bright bars of light. When united around the zenith, they looked like the inte ior of some glorious flower born in the skies--the nightblowing-cereus came to my mind, with the delicate tints of its deep fairy-like corolla. Now there came gushing up from the northeast, a flood of light of the deepest and most exqusite carnation. At first one might think a great conflagration was raging in that direction-but no !--that light is too pure-too etherial. It is no earth-born fire-it is the element of the upper world. K broadens upward to the centre, like a great unfolding petal;-the east and northeast are blushing red. But off in the southwest, how intensely white the petal which is there let down! But did I compare this glory to a flower? No--it takes another form. It is a broad white and red curtain or veil let down, dimming the stars with a misty eclipse; and lo! a fringe to the curtain, of purple and orange-a rainbow for its hem! But this too changes--the curtain is gathering up in wavering fragments;-and now it seems a pouring shower or storm of light, almost dazzling the eye. Now it is like the fluttering of broad pennoneor that scene in the ancient Mariner, where "The upper air burst into life, Slender bars now shoot up, and vanish as quick. Now the light ripples upwards over the stars as over bright pebbles, in wavering, interrupted streamlets: now in mass, like some steady broad river current: and there seems a great reservoir at the zenith which this tide of light is journeying up to fill. But now the reservoir is full--the streams are pushed back again--the tide ebbs. The white light darts off like the forming of crys tals, and becomes separated, and vanishes in the blue starvault. Gradually, as the night wears late, the wavings of light grow less and less frequent and distinct--till nothing is left but a steady brightness around the horizon, like the light before moon-rise. How noiseless all this ministry of the heavens--yet how eloquent! How full of beauty, of mystery! Where is the way to the abode of light? And darkness where is its dwelling place? Philosophy with rigid finger and cold eye may endeavor to point it out to us. But the heart turns away, enamored of the glowing apparition, and would rather take refuge in supersti tion, believing it a host of spirit forms, than hear it with complacent smile and unawed voice, pronounce it to be a display of the electric fluid; as if there ended all its meaning. C P. C. It is good for us, at times, to leave the limits of the dusky study filled with the creations of human wisdoin-to leave the turmoil and glitter and hot atmosphere of the city-and go out and listen with an attentive ear to the teachings of nature, and gaze with subdued and throbbing hearts upon its wonderful workings. And here is a description written fresh after such an interview. It is as eloquent and as redolent of beauty as the Aurora itself. PRIZE ADDRESS. Written by Dr. Henry Myers, of Richmond, Va., and pronounced by Mrs. George Jones, at the opening of the Avon Theatre in Norfolk, Va. To him who grasp'd that magic wand, the pen, And where should Pocsy select a home, Still, Avon! Fancy hies her to thy stream, Yet dwells upon the ear like some sweet song. REJECTED ADDRESS. Presented as a competitor for the prize offered for "the best address," on the opening of the "Avon Theatre," Norfolk. BY A CITIZEN OF RICHMOND. When storm and tempest sweep the troubled sky, To England's shores, and found a welcome too! Lo! here, in our own forest-land, we raise A thousand bright eyes lend their kindling rays; While hope's sweet voice, more sweet than Dorian reed, Bids us LOOK UP!-we must, we shall succeed! CATALEPSY. [The readers of the Messenger will remember, that in our July number we published an article containing a somewhat extraordinary account of a case of Catalepsy, and that we vouched that its author was a gentleman of unimpeachable honor and veracity, and of high standing as a member of the medical profession. We said moreover, that if his statements were controverted, he pledged himself in a private letter to substantiate them by testimony of a high character. Those statements have been controverted by a writer in South Carolina, whose communication we lay before the public, and which, notwithstanding its anonymous character, we determined to submit to our medical friend and await, his action on the subject. With the frankness and honor for which he is characterized, our friend and correspondent has come forward in his own proper person to vindicate his statements, and we do not hesitate to say that even "Doubt" can no longer be incredulous on the subject. Following the letter of the doubting South-Carolinian, we publish Dr. Buck's letter, with the certificate of Mr. Lay and the communication of Dr. Carmichael. Mr. Lay is well known in Richmond and his testimony is unimpeachable. Dr. Carmichael is an eminent practitioner of surgery and medicine.]— Editor. nication was anonymous and unsustained by "evidence which, in relation to matters less extraordinary and unnatural, would be sufficient to produce conviction," and calls upon the author "to lay his proofs before the public.” I am, therefore, constrained to re-assert the truth of the facts under my proper signature, and to exhibit a part of the evidence which I could procure in relation to them. The following is an extract of a letter addressed to me by a highly respectable Physician, who was in consultation with me in the case : "The July number of the Southern Literary Messenger,' I have not been able to obtain until yesterday. I read with renewed interest the account therein published of a most extraordinary case of Catalepsy, which occurred in the daughter of one of my most intimate an testeemed friends, and almost under quainted from personal observation: and all the phenomena of my own eye. With some of the facts related I was well ac this wonderful case, of which I was not an eye witness, were related to me as they occurred, by yourself and others who were then present. have seen such a case, I should not be surprised if your account "To some, (even of our own profession,) who may never of it should appear marvellous, nay altogether incredible; but its fidelity, if questioned, can be verified by many most respectable witnesses, whose testimony (if their characters were known,) would remove every doubt." I have also received a letter from a Professor of one of the first institutions of our country, who married a sister of the Ca taleptic patiert, and whose wife was in constant attendance during the progress of the disease. I extract the following: "On returning from a long journey, which I have just completed, I found your acceptable letter and a pamphlet containing a paper on Catalepsy. This paper must be highly interesting to strangers, and is, of course, far more so to us who know the circumstances, however incredible, to be true. M. (his wife) 'thinks that in one or two cases you have made the statements less wonderful than the facts would warrant, but I presume you feared to make the account too marvellous.' SOUTH CAROLINA, OCT. 21, 1839. Mr. White: The leading article in the July number of the Messenger, entitled "Catalepsy," has attracted much attention, and excited much animadversion. You have vouched for the respectability and veracity of the author. Yet so extraordinary, unnatural and incredible, are the circumstarees narrated in his anonymous communication, that nothing accompanying its pub-"M." (his wife) says that she regrets that she has none lication has been sufficient to remove skepticism from the minds of 's writings, they are all in the possession of ——." of some, while the many express for he whole narrative nothing (another sister.) but unbelief. If the circumstances as stated be true, they certainly do present some very extraordinary views of the nature and structure of mind, and of its relations with matter,--views totally at variance with all the received systems of inertal philosophy. The opera tions of mind as detailed in that communication, are violations of every known and acknowledged law of the intellectual structure, and have no analogies but in the alleged phenomena of animal magnetism. I myself am one who will admit the possibility that there may be an abnormal state of the human mind, in which phenomena may be exhibited, not referable to its known laws of operation. I have seen too much on this subject, from well au. thenticated quarters, not to go thus far. At the same time, evidence, which, in relation to matters less extraordinary and unna. tural, (as we would say in reference to the known laws of nature) would be sufficient to cause conviction, but when applied to phenomena like these, is insufficient to produce anything but doubt a state in which the mind neither affirms nor denies the truth of the proposition. If these are facts, the philosopher must begin his work anew; for no events like these have ever, heretofore, been even "dreampt of in our philosophy." The author of the article alluded to, in a note on the first page, declared (if his statement was received with doubt, or improbability) his ability and willingness to substantiate the whole of it, by the most irrefragable testimony. Now, in reference to the extraordinary part of his story, the most favorable comment I have heard upon it, was the expression of doubt as to the possibility of its truth, while many profess to have no other opinion on the subject, than that of unbe lief. Under these circumstances, I think it would be as well for the author to lay his proofs before the public. DOUBT. WASHINGTON, D. C., Nov. 3, 1839. Mr. T. W. White: When I communicated the article on "Catalepsy," I had no intention of disclosing my name, except to yourself and a few other friends. But the letter under the signature of "Doubt," from South Carolina, expresses disbelief of the facts, because the commu. I do not feel authorized to publish the names of these gentlemen, lest the intelligent and sensitive lady who is the subject of the article, might make inquiries which would lead to a discovery of her former affliction, of which, I believe, she is now ignorant. I will, however, enclose to you the letters, that you may be justified in assuring the public that they are genuine. The hand-writing is known to gentlemen in your city, which I will thank you to show them. I also enclose the original letters of the lady. I could multiply proofs, if necessary (and there were no fears of imparting unpleasant information to the lady), but I feel assured that these will satisfy the public and remove the incredulity even of "Doubt." Most respectfully, MARCUS C. BUCK, M. D. RICHMOND, VA., Nov. 14, 1839. I certify that I have read the letter addressed to Dr. Marcus C. Buck by Professor J. W. B., with whose hand writing I am well acquainted, and declare that the following is a correct extract therefrom. "On returning from a long journey, which I have just completed, I found your very acceptable letter with the ac companying pamphlet containing your paper on Catalepsy. This paper must be deeply interesting to strangers, and is, of course, far more so to us who know the circumstances, however incredible, to be true. M. thinks that in one or two cases you have made the statement less wonderful than the facts would warrant, but I presume you feared to make the account too marvellous." JOHN O. LAY. To T. W. WHITE, ESQ. RICHMOND, Nov. 15, 1839. Sir: The case detailed in your July number of the Messenger, on Catalepsy, from its unusual character, has been doubtingly received in and out of the profession. This morning I had presented to me, the letter of an old and esteemed friend-long a successful practitioner of medicine, and a man of probity, and with whom I frequently met in professional duties, and to whose worth I make this tribute of respect, confirming the statement of the author of that paper. "Having often," as he expresses it, "witnessed theextraordinary facts," and what he did not see, he heard from other sources of the highest credit. He goes farther, and thinks that the marvellousness of the case exceeds the description given. His signature I know to be genuine. To this statement I make an extract from a letter to me from the brother of the subject affected, now holding high official station : "We concluded that you should address a letter to the Editor of the Southern Literary Messenger, affirming for us the truth of the account of Catalepsy, and to which my father, my brothers and sisters, have often stated as correct, with the exception of its being more wonderful than therein detailed." Knowing all concerned in this report, it is but a proper duty on my part to make this statement, as they desire it, and to confirm the authenticity of the case. Most respectfully, your ob't serv't, EDWARD H. CARMICHAEL. KOULI KHAN. The attempts on India by the reigning sovereign of Persia bring to our recollection the fate of the most memorable of Persian warriors. In the year 1739, exactly a century ago, the famous Kouli Khan, the Shah of Persia, invaded India, and, after defeating the Mogul army in a great battle, took possession of Delhi. He spared the lives of the leading people, a singular instance of lenity in Asiatic war, and so wholly opposite to his own reckless polity, that it was accounted for only by a mysterious influence. But his original habits soon returned; and, on his determination being known to put a large number of the inhabitants of the capital to the sword, his tent was attacked by five Indians, in the midst of his army; and after a desperate defence, in which he killed two of them, he was struck to the heart The Persians are coming, The Persians are come; The banners are flying, And thunders the drum ; And bright as a sunbeam Rides forth in the van, The king of all kings, Kouli Khan, Kouli Khan ! The hills and the valleys The gems on his shawl There, proud Aurungzebe! Stand thy princes in chains, But, though fallen, they remember Thy blood in their veins : With toil and with battle Their faces are wan; But their frown is as haughty Then gazed the dark Sultan, "Let them live"-in the scabbard 'Twas dash'd with a clang. Then the herald came forth, He gloriously shone. Then out broke the words"Hear, princes of Cachmire! Hear, Delhi's proud lords! The manes of your steeds Are like banners unfurl'd; But what hours would it cost you To ride round the world? "Next, reckon the wealth Of the king of all kings- That now beams in his eye, Though fetter'd and lone, In their ranks still and stately, "They must die." But a yell Pierced thro' heart and thro' ear, And wild as a leopard In sprang a Faquier : His visage was ebon, His beard to the ground, Wrath burn'd in his glance As it darted around. "Kouli Khan! thou art conqueror, Sheathe thy red sword; Kouli Khan! take thy choice, To be cursed or adored!" "I will answer, dark Sultan, Thy questions of blood." His staff swept a ring Round the spot where he stood. Then his voice spoke in thunder: -Take the wings of the morning, In a day and a night Shall thy journey be done! "Then-what is thy wealth? Were it mountains of gold, Or good to forgive?— And to hail him the emrahs But one, and the proudest, Dared pluck his white beard: And the omrah lay low; "Must smite the Vizier, For the blood of my bravest Has reek'd on his spear." "What, tiger! more blood? Well, what prize shall be mine, If he stand on this spot Ere yon sun shall decline ?" "Take the half of my throne!" -"Mighty Shah, he is here!" -The beard was cast off, But there stood no Faquier. For the form bow'd to earth, And the forehead so pale, There stood in his beauty A youth sheathed in mail. Still brighter and brighter He grew, while they gazed; His eye keener blazed. "I am Uriel," he spake From sultan to slave, All was still as the grave"I am sent from the heights Of the star-studded throne, The Angel of Mercy, To save the undone. "They are saved-Thou art saved! And the rolling of chariots, And sweepings of strings; And the perfumes of Paradise And their senses were steep'd In delight, like a dream! Then all woke.-For a year The dagger was sheathed, The hand of the bride In the bridegroom's was wreathed. And the vine hid the cottage, The sheep fill'd the fold, And the merchant was safe With his silk and his gold. And the infant was glad, And the man without fear. And age met the tomb, Like the corn in the ear. But then came dark Eblis, The tempter of kings, And the Sultan was wrapt In the shade of his wings; Wine madden'd his soul, The fiend fill'd the manThou'rt a corpse in thy tent, Kouli Khan, Kouli Khan ! Revels at My Castle in the Air. No. I. A delicious Autumn day ;-an Indian Summer day! I have just returned from a stroll of some miles up the country, leaving this bank-ridden town to take up its notes- -before three o'clock. I thank God now every day, about noontide, that my lot has not been cast on the Waters of Commerce; and that it has been so ordered that I can pick up my bread and butter without reference to price of Sugar or the rise of Stocks. So as I was saying-I started for a walk--and after a long tramp over the Peninsula on whose slender finger--fort MCHENRY is set like a pretty mural ring, |