We wish, however, that Anglo-Saxon—joking apart—were more generally studied. When we remember that the very great majority of good words in English are of Saxon origin, and with them all that is characteristic either in our grammar or modes of expression, it becomes evident that the most certain and shortest method of arriving at a thorough and correct comprehension of English is by the study of its most important element—one which, as a writer has well said, bears the same relation to our mother-tongue as oxygen does to water. It is not fair to speak as some do of the Latin and Saxon wings of the English bird—the bird itself is Saxon—head and tail included. English has been but little benefited by its Latin and Greek additions—the old tongue had excellent synonyms or creative capacity like German—to fully equal every new need of thought.
The reader who has time for study, would do well to obtain the Anglo-Saxon Grammar of Louis Klipstein, published by G.P. Putnam, New-York, which is by far the most practical and easiest work of the kind with which we are acquainted. A few days' study in it will be time well invested by any one desirous of really understanding English. When we reflect that many boys study Latin for years 'because it enables them to understand the structure and derivation of their own language,' while the extremely easy Anglo-Saxon is almost entirely neglected, we smile at the ignorance of the first principles of education which prevails. But we advise the reader who may have a few shillings and a few hours to spare to invest them in a 'KLIPSTEIN,' and know—what very few writers do—something of the roots of English. Our word for it, he will not regret following the advice.
We are indebted to a Dawfuskie Island correspondent for the following details relative to
THE FALL OF PULASKI.
'Come and dine with me next Sunday in Pulaski?' said the commandant of a detachment of the Volunteer Engineer corps located on Tybee Island, one bright morning in the early part of April. As the invitation was given in all sincerity, and the officer who thus spoke was assisting in the erection of the batteries commanding that fort, the question which had so long occupied my mind, as to when the bombardment would begin, was now, I fondly hoped, near its solution. Time and again had rumor fixed the period of that event; but as often were we disappointed. Nor was the day now fixed; at least, if so, it was not communicated to me; but as the coming Friday of that week would be the anniversary of the attack on Fort Sumter, the natural inference was, that on the morning of that day, we should witness the opening of the long and anxiously-looked for engagement.
Sad rumors had come to our camp, that eighteen soldiers who had gone out skirmishing within the rebel lines, on Wilmington Island, had been captured, and were prisoners within the walls of Pulaski. How far this event may have hastened the attack, we know not; but on Thursday, the tenth, instead of Friday, the eleventh, the bombardment began, and the thunder of our mortars shook the earth and rent the heavens with their roar. Pulaski returned the fire with a promptness and energy that seemed to bid defiance to our batteries. Throughout the whole day, the storm beat unceasingly upon the doomed fort, raining shot and shell like hail against its walls and upon its ramparts. Solid steel-pointed shot, from columbiads and Parrotts, aimed with a precision that indicated not only great skill but a knowledge of the point of danger in the fort, perforated the walls and buried themselves in the thick and heavy masonry. Once, twice, thrice, four times was the rebel flag shot away; but as often was it replaced. At seven o'clock in the evening, the firing ceased, and there was a lull in the storm, only, however, to be renewed again at midnight, and kept up at regular intervals until sunrise, when the engagement increased in greater vigor than throughout the preceding day.
The morning was clear and beautiful, but not calm. A stiff breeze came from the East, as if to bear the terrific reports of the cannonading to Savannah, whose distant spires and towers gleamed in the sun. Our blockading fleet, with accompanying transports, lay at anchor in Tybee harbor. Here and there a gunboat, firing occasional shots, could be seen moving about in Wilmington sound, while the Unadilla, Hale, and Western World occupied their positions in Wright and Mud rivers. Tatnall's fleet was no where to be seen, and all things in the direction of Savannah seemed as quiet as though that city was peacefully and securely reposing, as in other days, under the broad folds of the American Union.
It was a sad and woful day to the cities of the South, when her rebel princes renounced their allegiance to the government, and raised the traitor arm of rebellion against its authority. Imagined evils, in connection with the Union, were then converted into real ones, and these have been augmented a thousand-fold in the severance from that Union. When the South shall 'come to herself'—if she ever does—like the prodigal son, she will find her condition quite as pitiable, and in rags and wretchedness, she will seek her father's house, willing, no doubt, to occupy a servant's place in the national household. Nor until true and genuine repentance shall come to her, can she hope for a father's forgiveness and a prodigal's reception and restoration.
Boom! boom!! boom!!! as if the last great day of vengeance had come, and you could hear the screeching of a thousand fiends in the air hastening to their destiny, come upon the ear, as Tybee utters her thunders, and pours out her vials of wrath. See that cloud of dust which shoots up like a volcano, and looks as though the whole east side of the fort had fallen in! Bolts of iron, like winged battering-rams, are ploughing fearfully through her belabored side. Before this cloud has passed away, you see, just above it, another, not dark and angry, but in appearance white and spherical as the moon. A shell has exploded, and rained its iron fragments into the fort.