What would they quired no small preparation! think, if they could rise from their graves some Tuesday morning, and from the top of the hill, that overhangs the river below, hear the thump of the steam engine, and see the ponderous vessel, like some huge fabled dragon of old, snorting smoke and fire from his iron nostrils, gliding along against wind and tide at the rate of ten knots an hour? I think, whilst their hallowed spirits rejoiced in the improvements of their country, they would breathe this solemn prayer in our behalf—that we may fail not to improve the flight of time, who are treading so fast upon its heels. After passing Strawberry Ferry, there is on both sides of the river one unbroken extent of cultivation, a sea of waiving green to the head of the river. On the Eastern side of the river are the following plantations, viz: Whilst on the Western side of the river from Straw berry Ferry, may be seen The Bluff, belonging to Dr. Wm. Moultrie. The boat reaches Fair Lawn at half-past ten, where it remains until half-past one. It then retraces its course to the city, taking up its passengers at the different places where it had landed them in the morning, in her trip up the river. It reaches Gordon's Brick Yard generally before 5 P. M., but always waits there until a few minutes after five. All hands having assembled at this place, and on board, the boat gets under weigh again, and arrives in Charleston by sun-down, or a little after it. Mulberry, on the left, as we ascend the river, (owned by Mr. Milliken,) has a very imposing looking house on it, built by Gov. BROUGHTON, which I must not omit to notice. It was long known as Mulberry Castle. It has or had loop holes in its walls for musketry, with bastions at the four corners of the building. Mulberry Castle was used formerly as a garrison, for the purpose of defending the settlers in the vicinity, against the incursions of the Indians. An old cannon, the relic of bye-gone days, may still be seen in the yard upon an ancient mound, doubtless an old fortification. We have now said enough, without being tedious and prolix, we hope, to shew that few more delightful amusements can be afforded those in summer, who have occasionally a little leisure on hand, than by a day's excursion up Cooper River. A few minutes' sail, and we are transported from heat and dust to where the birds sing—the wild flowers bloom, and all nature is smiling, the regularity with which the boat starts and returns, doing away with every idea of peril from malaria connected with the excursion. We must also mention, that there is always provided an excellent breakfast and dinner, served in the handsomest style, for those who remain on board throughout the day, in preference to landing. As a very interesting period to the hopes of the husbandman is fast approaching, that of "the ripe harvest," I cannot conclude, without earnestly recommending all, who desire to pass an agreeable day in admiration of fine crops, and in the enjoyment of a delightful society, always to be met with on these occasions, to take a trip up Cooper River. To the young and the beautiful, we trust, we shall be excused for hinting at the happy engagements for life, that might grow out of one of these little excursions. Love, we all know, is a wild-flower of chance growth, springing up here and there, when least looked for. It is quite as likely to open its beautiful petals in a steamboat, as any where else. Not many months since, (to show how mysteriously events of this pleasing character do sometimes come about) a gentleman of "elegant leisure," happening to hand a lady to the shore over a narrow plank, imagined that his hand was squeezed more tenderly than usual. The lady afterwards explained, it was only to prevent herself from falling into the water; but the gentleman had hailed it, as a bright omen, and popt the question! Now whether another incident of the same kind would grow out of "a day on Cooper River," I cannot pretend to say, but I think it not improbable, if some "ladies fair," I have now in my mind's eye, would only put on their best bib and tucker, and their sweetest smile, and make the trial. It is said there are more single men in St. John's Parish, among the young planters, than are to be found in any other Parish of the State. If so, it is high time, those who have the power should make them sensible, not only how much they are neglecting their present happiness, by delays which are always dangerous, but also, when God in his beneficence provided for our first parent 66 a help meet for him," to bless and cheer his loneliness, it never was in contemplation that such an isolated being should ever exist in the world as an old bachelor. NUMBER TWO. Wherever a river flows, I must throw RIVERS in all ages, and by all nations, whether barbarous or refined, have been popular and fruitful themes for Poets and Historians. Horace, Virgil, and Ovid, have written of the Ofanto, the Tiber and the Po. Two of these classical writers have, also, commemorated the Anio. The former in one of his odes, describes it as the Præceps Anio, "the headlong Anio." This river, after meandering through overhanging trees, and vineyards, and shady cliffs, crowned with the most picturesque ruins, suddenly tumbles headlong over rocks in unspeakable beauty. Hence, Horace's epithet of "headlong." Virgil was no less impressed than Horace, by the scenery around the banks and falls of this "pastoral flowing" river. He alludes to it in his 7th Æneid, and calls it the "Gelidum Anienem”—the cold Anio---its water being of a low temperature, from the circumstance, (as it is supposed) of its flowing from the Northeast. Callimachus, a famous Historian, and Poet of Cyrene, has celebrated the Inachus; Camoens, Petrarch, and Boccacio, the golden sanded Tagus, the Arno, and the Mincio. Virgil makes frequent mention, also of the Mincio. He was born near it, and he lays the scene of one of his pastorals upon its pleasant banks: Hic viridis tenera prætexit arundine ripas |