The calamity which has overtaken the commercial and financial affairs of the country, so suddenly, so unexpectedly, and without adequate reason, is so much the universal topic of conversation, that we may be pardoned for devoting a few sentences to the subject.

It is affirmed by the most intelligent men that the banks of New York, which regulate the money concerns of the United States, without the shadow of any responsibility to them, are the cause of the misfortune. They have acted without judgment, under the influence of panic, in opposition to the advice of the most experienced and wise. It is one of their important duties to watch the export of gold to Europe, to check it, when in excess, by contracting their circulation, to stop that contraction so soon as the cause for it ceases, and to meet the wants of commerce by additional facilities so long as the foreign demand for money permits them to do so with safety. They have discharged this duty unfaithfully, recklessly, ruinously.

We will not trouble our readers with figures. It is enough to say that the banks of New York, in the month of August, began to contract their circulation. Early in September the export of specie ceased. It could no longer be shipped without loss. The contraction ought to have ceased also. There was no longer any legitimate reason for it. But no! the contraction continued all through the month of September, until it reached, early in October, to the enormous amount of $30,000,000, making the circulating medium nearly one-third less than it had been in the month of July.

For this unexampled contraction there was no apparent reason. The condition of the banks was as good, indeed rather better than usual; speculation, in the city was not more than it commonly is; imports were not in greater excess than the increased resources of the country seemed fully to justify. With no cause,from absurd panic only and want of concert among the fifty banks that rule the commerce of the United States, this great calamity has fallen upon the whole country.

If there is any cause outside of the

action of the banks which has contributed to produce the lamentable condition of affairs which every where surrounds us, it may be traced to the licentious legislation of Congress. Their enormous grants of public land to railroad companies are fruitful sources of evil. Every grant and company became a centre of speculation from which radiated a thousand kindred schemes. It was the direct interest of every company to foster all sorts of wild projects, to hold out extravagant promises and delusive expectations. They sought to have men, women and children engaged in buying stocks, town lots, tracts of wild land. They succeeded in imbuing all hearts with rage to get rich, not by honest labor, but gambling speculations.

What is the consequence of this madness or folly? The banks every where have suspended, stocks are made valueless, merchants are ruined, workmen and day laborers are thrown out of employment, the whole business of the country is thoroughly deranged. We have not yet seen the end. It remains for us to hear what effect the money embarrassments of the United States are to produce in Europe. If they act powerfully and disastrously there, we have the reaction to undergo here on the value of every kind of property, and on every pursuit and enterprise, great or small.

In this great tempest, dismantling the noblest ships and making wreck of the strongest and boldest, what is to be the fate of our little shallop we cannot tell. Alas! that Mammon and his banks should exercise any control over the groves and temples of the Muses. But so it is. We wait on the turn of fortune, felix faustumque sit. We shall wrap our cloak about us the more resolutely as the gale blows stronger, and not yield, except when no longer able to contend. We have given time, labor, care, to the enterprise, and, as we have reason to believe, not without some success at home and abroad. We are willing to do so still with all our heart. But if fortune, which does not spare the cottage any more than the palace, shall decree otherwise, we will yield with as good a grace as we can command, carrying with us the convic

tion that, to the best of our ability, we have not been remiss in earnest application to our task.

A correspondent addressing us upon the subject of the Drama, regrets "that there is not to be found in American literature, a single original play which deals with contemporary events and characters, or attempts to depict the peculiar genius of our people and institutions." We think that our correspondent is mistaken. "Norman Maurice," by Wm. Gilmore Simms, is precisely the sort of drama, the absence of which he deplores. The subject is one of contemporaneous interest-the scene, the United States; and the "dramatis persona" eminently representative of certain types of American character. Of this play we find the following critique in one of the back numbers of the "Literary World," a journal, by the way, which the literați of Gotham should never have permitted to die out: "In Norman Maurice we have a noble ideal of many of the best qualities of our nature; trust, bravery, eloquence, address; responded to in the heroine, Clarice, who is to be taken, we suppose, for the representative of the Southern lady, in all the graces, both gentle and active, which belong to that fair type of our lovely country-women. The other characters are well discriminated-and have assigned to them scenes and situations which, as far as we can judge this side of actual representation, must be telling and effective upon the stage. There is particular skill, we should mention, shown in the involution and development of motive; with the reciprocal action of the characters upon each other. Among the most successful of these we may point to an early scene, the fourth of the first act-in the encounter of Maurice and Warren-with its stormy passions arous ed and the after-sunshine poured upon it by the entrance of Clarice.

"Scattered all over the piece are gems of poetic illustration, moralizing, and philosophy; such as the writer is accustomed in all his writings to disburse with a liberal hand. We hope to have an opportunity to see this drama upon the stage (of which it is in every way most worthy,) when we shall take an opportunity to renew our respects, and regard it more particularly in its character of an acting play."

That "Norman Maurice" is an able play, and eminently fitted for the stage, is but a portion of the praise which is its due. In productions of a dramatic stamp there should be two kinds of excellence

first, that which is obviously addressed to stage effect; and, secondly, the more important and far more difficult merit of combining a philosophical analysis of character with the rapid evolution of incident. To strike that happy mien which prevents a play from becoming too didactic for representation, or too melo-dramatic for the closet, is an end as rarely gained, as it is desirable to gain it. When attained it is a triumph of art. None but the true poet-the man who knows that behind the palpable relation and appearances of things, there lies a latent meaning-and who can combine the artistic delineation of our nature with the proper sequence of stirring event and picturesque movement, is capable of producing a powerful Drama.

It is impossible for us here to criticise "Norman Maurice," but we must be permitted to say, that in the conception and development of the noblest type of manhood in the hero, and a lively exemplification of feminine purity, strength of character and devotedness in the heroine, aided by a skilful variety of circumstance, and an unexpected, but natural denouément, this tragedy is a production of great originality, force and beauty.

The initial volume of "Collections of the South Carolina Historical Society," will be issued ere this number can have reached all our readers, and will inaugu rate, we trust, an era of revived and active attention to the elements and sources of our early history, which has been too much and too long neglected. This Society, now in its third year, and fairly and in good purpose beginning to show forth its labors, originated in a patriotic and commendable determination of a few citizens who had long deplored the neglect of our historic materials, at home and abroad. Quietly, unostentatiously, and in good faith, pursuing the purpose and pledge of its organization, the Society has already collected a mass of materials, documents and memorials that would not, perhaps, have been rendered available in any other mode for our future investigations. Descending

to even a public demonstration at once of the felt want of such an agency, of its determination, and of the possibility of yet retrieving in great part, the results of long and inveterate neglect, the Society applied to our General Assembly, at the session of 1856, for a corporate recognition, and for a pittance of aid to meet the exigencies of a class of publications, which cannot of course be expected to become constantly

remunerative, or even self-compensating. These requests were promptly granted, and the result was the early preparation for the press of the opening volume, whose forthcoming appearance we are now enabled to announce, from an examination of proof sheets, with which we have been favored by the committee having charge of the publication.

It will become a duty, as well as a privilege, to notice the work more critically on its publication, and to estimate its value as a contribution to historic materials, and as a promise, pledge, and basis of future accessions. It may not be premature at present to note briefly and generally the contents of the volume, and this may be done in a few words.

The place of introduction is properly and worthily occupied by "an address pronounced at the organization of the South Carolina Historical Society, June 28th, 1857, by F. A. Porcher, Professor of History, &c., in the College of Charleston, and Recording Secretary of the South Carolina Historical Society." This address is an able and well considered survey of the prominent points, topics and problems of the first half century of our colonial history-a period of our history important as the age of germinal development and popular self-culture, for all our institutions and habits of a generic character. This period has been sadly slurred over by historians, neglected by our own students and inquirers, and for the most part overlooked in American histories. Yet, within this period there arose and was perfected the first great American Revolution-the first great move of conscious and deliberate self-government tested by our people on the past arena of Americanism.

The importance of this period, the problems and exigencies it affords for the historic inquirer, the statesman and the ethnologist, and its germinal relations to later and wider manifestations of the political genius of America, are suggestively illustrated and presented in this address. An interesting topic of the address also is a statement and discussion of the causes and influences that combined in promoting and perfecting out of variant, discordant and apparently interwoven elements of original population, the richly composite, yet homogeneous type of Carolina character.

The next ingredient of the volume, and that which will be regarded, perhaps, as the chief contribution of immediate interest and value, is the journal and correspondence of Henry Laurens, during his confinement in the

Tower. This is, in all respects, of substantial value and historic illustrationentirely a new and original addition to records previously accessible; and the MSS. which compose it are but a portion of a valuable donation of family archives, memoranda and originals of sacred interest, now in the possession of the Society.

The volume is filled out with "a list and abstract of documents relating to South Carolina, now existing in the State Paper Office. London, prepared for the South Carolina Historical Society, by an authorized agent in London." This portion, we think, will be received as a most appropriate and well timed contribution of the Society, and will afford the reader even slightly or indifferently versed in our history, some standard by which to estimate the chasm that mars our records at home, and the desideratum which it is aimed at by this Society to supply in the course of its progress.

We feel, however, the temptation which besets us, to enter into a fuller review of a work which is not yet before any of our readers, and we must desist. The volume will be published by the Society, but for convenience and supply-so far as the edition will permit to purchasers-will bear the imprints of Russell & Jones, and S. G. Courtenay & Co., of Charleston, to either of which houses we refer the timely inquiries of all who are not within the list of immediate and original supply.

We take the occasion of remarking that it will be our duty, at all times, to afford a due space to the transactions, proceedings, inquiries and movements of Historical Societies, and other associa tions of our section, that are engaged in any branch of science, literature or high art, should they need any organ of common reference and intercourse more permanent and suitable than the daily journal.

In DeQuincey's "Historical Essays' we have a curious argument upon the subject of the Essenes, in which the author attempts to prove that the early Christians and the Essenes were really one sect. "They were one," he says, "because upon any other supposition, Christianity, as a knowledge, must have been taught independently of Christ; nay, in opposition to Christ." Pliny has left a statement, stigmatized by DeQuincey as 'a hyperbolical fairy tale," to the effect that the Essenes existed many centuries before the Christian era. Of course, therefore, he regarded the Essenes as a distinct sect,

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thereby confirming the authority of Josephus. His testimony, too, is the stronger upon this point, inasmuch as in his celebrated letter to Trajan, he speaks of the Christian doctrines, their spread, and the necessity of suppressing them. In spite, however, both of Josephus and of Pliny, DeQuincey enters upon the proof of the position he has laid down with uncommon zeal, confidence, and acuteness. His first step is to destroy the character of the Jewish historian, and, consequently, our dependence upon his veracity. He considers Josephus as the prince of renegades and traitors. His obstinate defence of Jotapha for a period of seven weeks, (at the end of which time the town was betrayed, and thousands put to the sword,) weighs as nothing in the balance against his crimes. He is represented as servile, truckling, mean, and dastardly. Not only are we called upon to regard him as a traitor, but as the most despicable of apostates-a traitor, because he predicted that Vespasian would one day enjoy the imperial dignity, and an apostate, because he perverted the doctrines of the Hebrew code, attributing to it a license foreign to its nature and constitution. Having bound Josephus, therefore, so far as his credibility as a witness is concerned, hand and foot, DeQuincey proceeds to draw from that portion of the Jewish history relating to the Essenes, arguments (founded on a similarity between the reported cere monies and character of that sect, and the lessons taught by Christ,) in support of the theory that the primitive Christians, fearful that persecution would utterly destroy them, resorted to the "wisdom of the serpent," and formed themselves into an order, composed of three distinct divisions, the innermost or most holy division of all, being the depository of a certain mysterious secret, not to be revealed, except to the initiated. This secret, DeQuincey maintains, wasCHRISTIANITY.

We have not time to enter into the minutiæ of the evidence he adduces to support this opinion. We would only suggest a few objections, which we think may still be fairly urged against its establishment.

1st. The institution of a secret society by the early Christians, appears entirely at war with the essential spirit of their faith. The express command of their Founder, is-preach the gospel to all people. The supposition, that alarmed at the increase of persecution, they feared an extinction of their seet, would argue a laxity of faith in the promises of Christ, which we cannot believe his fol

lowers entertained, so soon after the miracles of his life, and the yet more awful miracle of his death.

2d. Is it possible to suppose that comparatively uninfluential men, such as the primitive Christians confessedly were, should be able to constitute themselves the leaders,-the sacred core of a sect, numbering, in what DeQuincey calls, its "penultimate and ante-penultimate' orders, some of the most influential of the Jewish communities?

3d. Pliny, in the very letter we have alluded to, written but forty years after the siege of Jerusalem, speaks of the Christians, as a sect, who had extended themselves over the whole of Palestine; and whose principles were open and avowed; a fact which militates strongly against the supposition that they and the Essenes were one, for why should an order, created expressly to ward off persecution at one time, rush headlong into it at another?

4th. Wherever History reveals to us the lives of the Christians, individually or collectively, we find that they court persecution,-first, as a means of glori fying God, and secondly, as a means of extending their religion. The very "wisdom of the serpent," attributed to them, brought the truth home to their understandings, that through fiery trials were they to reach the Palm and the Crown.

5th. The opinion that the "dignity of Christian truth" depends upon the belief that the Essenes and the primitive Christians were one, because of the purity of life and doctrine manifested by the former, seems scarcely tenable, when we consider that many sects, besides the Essenes, have practiced a pure morality, who had never heard of Christianityand, moreover, that the peculiar species of morality here exhibited, partakes far more of narrow and selfish austerity, than of the liberal, evangelizing spirit, which we find throughout the Gospels.

We have alluded so far to the subject of the Essenes, because we deem it, considered even as a question of “antiquarian research," as one of great interest, Wecommend DeQuincey's essay which, however doubtful may be its conclusions, is a vigorous and logical dissertation-to readers who can derive pleasure in probing the darker secrets of the Past, and gathering from stray nooks and corners of history, lights, however feeble, with which to examine the remote records of mankind. In conclusion, we extract a part of DeQuincey's paper (though not bearing upon his account of the Essencs.) which is unrivalled as a piece of invective. It relates to the perfidy of Josephus.

"The overthrow of his country was made the subject of a Roman triumphof a triumph in which his patrons, Vespasian and his two sons, figured as the centres of the public honor. Judea, with her banners trailing in the dust, was on this day to be carried captive. The Jew attended with an obsequious face, dressed in courtly smiles. The prisoners who are to die by the executioner when the pomp shall have reached the summit of the hill, pass by in chains. What is their crime? They have fought like brave men for that dear country, which the base spectator has sold for a bribe. Josephus, the prosperous renegade, laughs as he sees them, and hugs himself on his cunning. Suddenly a tumult is seen in the advancing crowds-what is it that stirs them? It is the sword of the Maccabees; it is the image of Judas Maccabæus, the warrior Jew, and of his unconquerable brothers. Josephus grins with admiration of the jewelled trophies. Next-but what shout is that which tore the very heavens? The abomination of desolation is passing by-the Law and the Prophets, surmounted by Capitoline Jove, vibrating his pagan thunderbolts. Judea, in the form of a lady, sitting beneath her palms-Judea, with her head muffled in her robe, speechless, sightless, is carried past. And what does the Jew? He sits, like a modern reporter for a newspaper, taking notes of the circumstantial features in this unparalleled scene, delighted as a child at a puppetshow, and finally weaves the whole into a picturesque narrative. The apologist must not think to evade the effect upon all honorable minds by supposing the case that the Jew's presence at this scene of triumph over his ruined country, and his subsequent record of its circumstances, must be a movement of frantic passionbent on knowing the worst, bent on drinking up the cup of degredation to the very last drop. No, no this escape is not open. The description itself remains to this hour in attestation of the astounding fact, that this accursed Jew surveyed the closing scene in the great agonics of Jerusalem-not with any thought for its frenzy, for its anguish, for its despair, but absorbed in the luxury of its beauty, and with a single eye for its purple and gold. 'Off, off, sir!'-would be the cry to such a wretch in any age of the world: to spit upon his Jewish gaberdine,' would be the wish of every honest man. Nor is there any thoughtful person who will allege that such another case exists. Traitors there have been many; and perhaps traitors who, trusting to the extinction of all their comrades, might have

had courage to record their treasons. But certainly there is no other person known to history who did, and who proclaimed that he did, sit as a volunteer spectator of his buried country carried past in effigy, confounded with a vast carnival of rejoicing mobs and armies, echoing their jubilant outcries, and pampering his eyes with ivory and gold, with spoils, and with captives, torn from the funeral pangs of his country. That case is unique, without a copy, and without a precedent."

Here is a profound truth, embodied in striking, vigorous, bitter words. We extract the passage from Bulwer's "My Novel."

In the good old days of our forefath ers, when plain speaking and hard blows were in fashion-when a man had his heart at the tip of his tongue, and four feet of sharp iron dangling at his side, Hate played an honest, open part in the theatre of the world. In fact, when we read history, it seems to have "starred it" on the stage. But now where is Hate?-who ever sees its face? Is it that smiling good-tempered creature, that presses you by the hand so cordially? or that dignified figure of state that calls you its "right honorable friend?" Is it that bowing, grateful dependent?— is it that soft-eyed Amaryllis? Ask not, guess not; you will only know it to be Hate when the poison is in your cup, or the poinard in your breast. In the Gothic age, grim Humor painted "the Dance of Death:" in our polished century, some sardonic wit should give us "the Masquerade of Hate."

Certainly, the counter-passion betrays itself with ease to our gaze. Love is rarely a hypocrite. But Hate-how detect, and how guard against it? It lurks where you least suspect it; it is created by causes that you can the least foresee; and civilization multiplies its varieties, whilst it favors its disguise; for civilization increases the number of contending interests, and refinement renders more susceptible to the least irritation the cuticle of self-love. But Hate comes covertly forth from some self-interest we have crossed, or some self-love we have wounded; and, dullards that we are, how seldom we are aware of our offence! You may be hated by a man you have never seen in your life; you may be hated as often by one you have loaded with benefits; you may so walk as not to tread on a worm; but you must sit fast on your easy-chair till you are carried out to your bier, if you would be sure not to