the liquid fire of the Greeks ran through the veins of the crowd, and they were quickly ripe for bidding.

"Inspiring bold John Barleycorn,

What dangers thou canst make us scorn;
Wi' tippenny we fear no evil-

Wi' usquebaugh we'll face the devil."

The "swats sae reamed" in their noddles, that every thing sold at a price far beyond its value, and our crier became so exceedingly facetious, and cracked so many excellent ironical jokes, that it is a pity they should be lost. Being unskilled, however, in stenography, I could not take down his words, and only remember that every untrimmed old field colt was a regular descendant of Eclipse; the long nosed hogs were unquestionably Parkinson; the sheep Merinoes; the cattle, which were notoriously all horn, were short horns, &c. &c. They seemed to me to be a scurvy set of animals; but those who saw them through a glass darkly, seemed to entertain a very different opinion. The "mirth and fun grew fast and furious," "till first a caper sin anither" "they lost their reasons a' thegither," and the sale closed in one wild, uproarious scuffle for every thing at any price whatever.

It now became necessary to return home, an important consideration which had been wholly overlooked; and the difficulty of mounting our horses having been overcome after many trials, we began to "witch the world with feats of noble horsemanship." Such "racing and chasing" had not been seen since the days of Cannobie lea, and quizzing became the order of the evening. Perceiving the mettlesome nature of my steed, my friend, the politician and philosopher, seemed resolved upon unhorsing me, notwithstanding my entreaties that he would forbear, and by dint of riding violently up to me, and shouting out at the top of his voice, he so alarmed my nag, that he seized the bit between his teeth, and away I flew, John Gilpin like, to the infinite amusement of my persecutor, until I was safely deposited in a mud hold, near my own gate, from whence I had to finish my journey on foot, and appear before my helpmate in a condition that reflected greatly upon

my character. As a finale to this mortifying business, my purchases were brought home the next day, and were most unceremoniously thrown out of doors by my wife, as utterly useless, being literally sans eyes, sans teeth, sans every thing; cracked pitchers, broken pots, spiders without legs, jugs without handles, et id genus

omne.

THE MOCKINGBIRD.

Come, listen! oh list! to that soft dying strain
Of my Mockingbird, up on the house-top again;
He comes every night to these old ruined walls,
Where soft as the moonlight his melody falls.
Oh! what can the bulbub or nightingale chant,
In the climes which they love, and the groves which
they haunt,

More thrilling and wild than the song I have heard,
In the stillness of night, from my sweet Mockingbird!

I saw him to-day, on his favorite tree,

Where he constantly comes in his glory and glee,
Perch'd high on a limb, which was standing out far
Above all the rest, like a tall taper spar:

The wind, it was wafting that limb to and fro,
And he rode up and down, like a skiff in a blow,
When it sinks with the billow, and mounts with its
swell;

He knew I was watching-he knew it full well.
He folded his pinions and swelled out his throat,
And mimick'd each bird in its own native note,-
The Thrush and the Robin, the Redbird and all-
And the Partridge would whistle and answer his call;
Then stopping his carol, he seemed to prepare,
By the flirt of his wings, for a flight in the air,
When rising sheer upward, he wheeled down again,
And took up his song where he left off the strain.
Would you cage such a creature, and draggle his plumes?
Condemn him to prison, the worst of all dooms?

Take from him the pleasure of flying so free?
And deny him his ride on the wind wafted-tree?
Would you force him to droop within merciless bars,
When earth is all sunshine, or heaven all stars?
Forbid it, oh mercy! and grant him the boon
Of a sail in the sun and a song to the moon.
What a gift he possesses of throat and of lungs!
The gift apostolic-the gift of all tongues!
Ah! could he but utter the lessons of love,
To wean us from earth and to waft us above,
What siren could tempt us to wander again?
We'd seek but the siren outpouring that strain-
Would listen to nought but his soft dying fall,
As he sat all alone on some old ruined wall.

[For the Southern Literary Messenger.]

INTERESTING RUINS ON THE RAPPAHANNOCK.

MR. EDITOR.-As I find you are about to establish a sort of Literary Emporium, to which every man, no matter how trifling his capital of ideas, may send his productions, I have resolved to transmit to you, my small wares and merchandize. The relation I shall bear to your other correspondents, will be that which the vender of trifles in a town bears to the wealthy merchant; and, therefore, I shall assume an appropriate title, and under this humble signature, shall consider myself at liberty to offer you any thing I may have, without order or method, and just as I can lay my hands upon it. My head is somewhat like Dominie Sampson's, which, as well as I remember, resembled a pawnbroker's shop, where a goodly store of things were piled together, but in such confusion, he could never find what he wanted. When I get hold of any thing, however, I will send it to you, and if it be worth nothing, why, just "martyr it by a pipe."

"Here lived, so might it seem to fancy's eye,
The lordly Barons of our feudal day;

On every side, lo! grandeur's relics lie

Scattered in ruin o'er their coffin'd clay.

How vain for man, short sighted man, to say
What course the tide of human things shall take !
How little dreamed the Founder, that decay,

So soon his splendid edifice should shake,

And of its high pretence, a cruel mock'ry make.”

There cannot be a more striking exemplification of the powerful influence of laws upon the state of society, than is exhibited on the banks of the rivers in the lower part of Virginia. How many spacious structures are seen there, hastening to decay, which were once the seats of grandeur and a magnificent hospitality! The barons of old were scarcely more despotic over their immediate demesnes, than were the proprietors of these noble mansions, with their long train of servants and dependents; their dicta were almost paramount to law, throughout their extensive and princely possessions. But since the introduction of republican institutions, and the alteration in the laws respecting the descent of property, and more especially since the "docking of entails," a total change has been effected. Our castles are crumbling on every sideestates are subdivided into minuter portions, instead of being transmitted to the eldest son; and so complete is the revolution in sentiment, that he would be deemed a savage, who would now leave the greater part of his family destitute, for the sake of aggrandizing an individual. It is not unusual to find a son in possession of the once splendid establishment of his fathers, with scarcely paternal acres enough to afford him sustenance, and hardly wood enough to warm a single chamber of all his long suite of apartments. The old family coach, with his mother and sisters, lumbers along after a pair of superannuated skeletons, and some faithful domestic, like Caleb Balderstone, is put to the most desperate shifts to support the phantom of former grandeur. Debts are fast swallowing up the miserable remnant of what was once a principality, while some wealthy democrat of the neighborhood, who has accumulated large sums by despising an empty show, "is ready to foreclose his mortgage, and send the wretched heir of Ravenswood to mingle with the

Bucklaws and Craigengelts of the west. Many a story of deep interest might be written upon the old state of things in Virginia, if we possessed some indefatigable Jedediah Cleishbotham, to collect the traditions of our ancestors.

Those who took part in our revolutionary struggle, were too much enlightened not to foresee these consequences, and therefore deserve immortal credit for their disinterested opposition to Great Britain. Had they been aristocrats instead of the purest republicans, they would surely have thrown their weight into the opposite scale. We do not estimate enough the merit of the rich men of that day. The danger is now past— the mighty guerdon won-the storm is gone over, and the sun beams brightly: but though bright our day, it was then a dark unknown-dark as the hidden path beyond the grave-and it was nobly dared to risk their all in defence of liberty. They knew that freedom spurned a vain parade, and would not bow in homage to high-born wealth; yet their splendid possessions were staked upon the desperate throw, and the glorious prize was won. Such were not the anticipations of the founders of these establishments; but such was surely the merit of their sons; and it is painful to think how few, of all who engaged in that noble struggle, have been handed down to fame. Many a one, whose name has been loudly sounded through the earth, would have shrunk from such a sacrifice, and clung to his paternal hearth; and yet these modern Curtii, who renounced the advantages of birth, and leaped into the gulf for their country's sake, have not won a single garland for their Roman worth.

There is a scene in the county of Lancaster, where these reflections pressed themselves very forcibly upon my mind. Imagine an ample estate on the margin of the Rappahannock, with its dilapidated mansion house, the ruins of an extensive wall, made to arrest the inroads of the waves, as if the proprietor felt himself a Canute, and able to stay the progress of the sea-a church of the olden times, beautiful in structure, and built of brick brought from England, then the home of