from Liverpool, a small steamer from
Savannah, and a schooner or two of the coasting class passed by us
toward the city during the day, showing to what small proportions the
commerce of Charleston had suddenly shrunk. On shore there seemed to be
no population aside from the volunteers, Sullivan's Island is a summer
resort, much favored by Charlestonians in the hot season, because of its
coolness and healthfulness, but apparently almost uninhabited in winter,
notwithstanding that it boasts a village called Moultrieville. Its
hundred cottages are mostly of one model, square, low-roofed, a single
story in height, and surrounded by a veranda, a portion of which is in
some instances inclosed by blinds so as to add to the amount of shelter.
Paint has been sparingly used, when applied at all, and is seldom
renewed, when weather-stained. The favorite colors, at least those which
most strike the eye at a distance, are green and yellow. The yards are
apt to be full of sand-drifts, which are much prized by the possessors,
with whom it is an object to be secured from high tides and other
more permanent aggressions of the ocean. The whole island is but a
verdureless sand-drift, of which the outlines are constantly changing
under the influence of winds and waters. Fort Moultrie, once close to
the shore, as I am told, is now a hundred yards from it; while, half
a mile off, the sea flows over the site of a row of cottages not long
since washed away. Behind Fort Moultrie, where the land rises to its
highest, appears a continuous foliage of the famous palmettos, a low
palm, strange to the Northern eye, but not beautiful, unless to those
who love it for its associations. Compared with its brothers of the
East, it is short, contracted in outline, and deficient in waving grace.

The chill mist and drizzling rain frequently drove us under
cover. "While enjoying my cigar in the little smoking-room on the
promenade-deck, I listened to the talk of four players of euchre, two of
them Georgians, one a Carolinian, and one a pro-slavery New-Yorker.

"I wish the Cap'n would invite old Greeley on board his boat in New
York," said the Gothamite, "and then run him off to Charleston. I'd give
ten thousand dollars towards paying expenses; that is, if they could do
what they was a mind to with him."

"I reckon a little more'n ten thousand dollars'd do it," grinned
Georgian First.

"They'd cut him up into little bits," pursued the New-Yorker.

"They'