provisions. The first part of his journey was pretty favorable; he walked a long time, without being discouraged, having always a firm conviction that he should attain his aim. Eight days had already elapsed, without his meeting with any one to oppose his desire. On the evening of the eighth day, at sunset, he stopped as usual on the bank of a brook, at the entrance of a little prairie, a place which he thought favorable for his night's encampment. As he was preparing his lodging, he perceived at the other end of the prairie three very wide and well-beaten paths. He thought this somewhat singular; he, however, continued to prepare his wigwam, that he might shelter himself from the weather. He also lighted a fire. While cooking, he found that, the darker it grew, the more distinct were those paths. This surprised, nay, even frightened him; he hesitated a few moments. Was it better for him to remain in his camp, or seek another at some distance? While in this incertitude, he remembered his juggling, or rather his dream. He thought that his only aim in undertaking his journey, was to see the Master of Life. This restored him to his senses. He thought it probable that one of those three roads led to the place which he wished to visit. He therefore resolved upon remaining in his camp until the morrow, when he would, at random, take one of them. His curiosity, however, scarcely allowed him time to take his meal; he left his encampment and fire, and took the widest of the paths. He followed it until the middle of the day, without seeing any thing to impede his progress; but, as he was resting a little, to take breath, he suddenly perceived a large fire coming from under ground. It excited his curiosity; he went toward it to see what it might be; but, as the fire appeared to increase as he drew nearer, he was so overcome with fear, that he turned back, and took the widest of the other two paths. Having followed it for the same space of time as he had the first, he perceived a similar spectacle. His fright, which had been lulled by the change of road, awoke, and he was obliged to take the third path, in which he walked a whole day, without seeing any thing. All at once, a mountain of a marvellous whiteness burst upon his sight. This filled him with astonishment; nevertheless, he took courage and advanced to examine it. Having arrived at the foot, he saw no signs of a road. He became very sad, not knowing how to continue his journey. In this conjuncture, he looked on all sides, and perceived a female seated upon the mountain; her beauty was dazzling, and the whiteness of her garments surpassed that of snow. The woman said to him, in his own language, 'You appear surprised to find no longer a path to reach your wishes. I know that you have for a long time longed to see and speak to the Master of Life; and that you have undertaken this journey purposely to see him. The way which leads to his abode is upon this mountain. To ascend it, you must undress yourself completely, and leave all you accoutrements and clothing at the foot. No person shall injure them. You will then go and wash yourself in the river which I am now showing you, and afterward ascend the mountain.'

The Indian obeyed punctually the woman's words; but one difficulty remained. How could he arrive at the top of the mountain, which was steep, without a path, and as smooth as glass? He asked the woman how he was to accomplish it. She replied, that if he really

wished to see the Master of Life, he must, in mounting, only use his left hand and foot. This appeared almost impossible to the Indian. Encouraged, however, by the female, he commenced ascending, and succeeded, after much trouble. When at the top, he was astonished to see no person, the woman having disappeared. He found himself alone, and without a guide. Three unknown villages were in sight; they were constructed on a different plan from his own, much more handsome and regular. After a few moments' reflection, he took his way toward the handsomest. When about half way from the top of the mountain, he recollected that he was naked, and was afraid to proceed; but a voice told him to advance, and have no apprehensions; that, as he had washed himself, he might walk in confidence. He proceeded without hesitation to a place which appeared to be the gate of the village, and stopped until some one came to open it. While he was considering the exterior of the village, the gate opened, and the Indian saw coming toward him a handsome man, dressed all in white, who took him by the hand, and said he was going to satisfy his wishes by leading him to the presence of the Master of Life.

The Indian suffered himself to be conducted, and they arrived at a place of unequalled beauty. The Indian was lost in admiration. He there saw the Master of Life, who took him by the hand, and gave him for a seat a hat, bordered with gold. The Indian, afraid of spoiling the hat, hesitated to sit down; but, being again ordered to do so, he obeyed without reply.

The Indian being seated, God said to him, I am the Master of Life, whom thou wishest to see, and to whom thou wishest to speak. Listen to that which I will tell thee for thyself and for all the Indians. I am the Maker of heaven and earth, the trees, lakes, rivers, men, and all that thou seest or has seen on earth or in the heavens; and because I love you, you must do my will; you must also avoid that which I hate; I hate you to drink as you do, until you lose your reason; I wish you not to fight one another; you take two wives, or run after other people's wives; you do wrong; I hate such conduct; you should have but one wife, and keep her until death. When you go to war, you juggle, you sing the medicine song, thinking you speak to me; you deceive yourselves; it is to the Manito that you speak; he is a wicked spirit who induces you to evil, and, for want of knowing me, you listen to him.

The land on which you are, I have made for you, not for others. Wherefore do you suffer the whites to dwell upon your lands? Can you not do without them? I know that those whom you call the children of your great Father supply your wants. But, were you not wicked as you are, you would not need them. You might live as you did before you knew them. Before those whom you called your brothers had arrived, did not your bow and arrow maintain you? You needed neither gun, powder, nor any object. The flesh of animals was your food, their skins your raiment. But when I saw you inclined to evil, I removed the animals into the depths of the forests, that you might depend on your brothers for your necessaries, for your clothing. Again become good and do my will, and I will send animals for your sustenance. I do not, however, forbid suffering among you your Father's children. I love them; they know me; they



pray to me; I supply their own wants, and give them that which they bring to you. Not so with those who are come to trouble your possessions. Drive them away; wage war against them. I love them not. They know me not. They are my enemies; they are your brothers' enemies. Send them back to the lands I have made for them. Let them remain there.


'Here is a written prayer which I give thee; learn it by heart, and teach it to all the Indians and children.' The Indian observing here that he could not read, the Master of Life told him that, on his return upon earth, he should give it to the chief of his village, who would read it, and also teach it to him, as also to all the Indians. It must be repeated,' said the Master of Life, morning and evening. Do all that I have told thee, and announce it to all the Indians, as coming from the Master of Life. Let them drink but one draught, or two at most, in one day. Let them have but one wife, and discontinue running after other people's wives and daughters. Let them not fight one another. Let them not sing the medicine song, for in singing the medicine song, they speak to the evil spirit. Drive from your lands,' added the Master of Life, 'those dogs in red clothing; they are only an injury to you. When you want any thing, apply to me, as your brothers do, and I will give to both. Do not sell to your brothers that which I have placed on the earth as food. In short, become good, and you shall want nothing. When you meet one another, bow, and give one another the . . . . . hand of the heart. Above all, I commend thee to repeat, morning and evening, the prayer which I have given thee.'

The Indian promised to do the will of the Master of Life, and also to recommend it strongly to the Indians; adding that the Master of Life should be satisfied with them.

His conductor then came, and, leading him to the foot of the mountain, told him to take his garments and return to his village; which was immediately done by the Indian.

His return much surprised the inhabitants of the village, who did not know what had become of him. They asked him whence he came; but as he had been enjoined to speak to no one until he saw the chief of the village, he motioned to them with his hand that he came from above. Having entered the village, he went immediately to the chief's wigwam, and delivered to him the prayer and laws intrusted to his care by the Master of Life.


CALAMITIES are sent for ends

That prove them true but bitter friends,
That wiser make the wise;
And like those book-devouring flames
That Alexandria's tale proclaims,
Are 'blessings in diguise.'

These saved us from those ills that had,
In outward pomp of wisdom clad,
From others' follies grown;
And fierce affliction's fiery dart
We thank, if it amend the heart,
And save us from our own.


SPECIMENS OF FOREIGN STANDARD LITERATURE. Volumes 1. and II. Philosophical Miscellanies, translated from the French of COUSIN, JOUFFROY, and B. CONSTANT, with Introductory and Critical Notices by GEORGE RIPLEY. Boston: HILLIARD, GRAY AND COMPANY.

TO BOSTON, beside the initiative steps toward the blessings of freedom, we owe many of the brightest productions of the American press. While in other cities haste has marred the beauty and the correctness of typography, and the consumer has been willing to gain time at the expense of that outward grace which beseems the productions of the human intellect, the Boston press has at all times been calm and conscientious, ever issuing publications worthy the dignity of letters. The volumes before us wear the customary aspect of the books of the 'Literary Emporium,' and are among the most valuable of recent publications. The design of giving forth a series of important foreign literary works, which, however familiar many readers may be with the language in which they are written, are rarely to be met with here, is in consonance with the simplifying spirit of the day; with the spirit of restless eager inquiry, seeking to know all of modern discovery which illustrates the science of the intellect. We know not whether, like all light, it comes to us from the East; but the philosophic ray seems every where to shed its beams upon the young national mind; the cant against metaphysics is abolished, and the bigotry of set logical forms is fast disappearing. Men are curious to learn something of the mental texture of powerful thinkers; to become acquainted with original minds, through their opinions; and this is surely one of the inducements of the universal inquiry respecting not only the simpler, but the most abstruse, forms of philosophic doctrine.

These specimens, so far as a cursory perusal has enabled us to judge of them, serve as an admirable introduction to the modern philosophy of the European continent. Of the qualifications of the editor, we are disposed to entertain a highly favorable opinion; and the three authors selected for his début, are the three brightest stars in the philosophical constellation of France. M. COUSIN is already well known to the public, through the medium of Professor HENRY's translation of his Psychology; and we believe that in the editor of the 'Boston Quarterly Review,' he has a still more devout and enthusiastic follower. He has been censured as an eclectic; as advocating a characterless philosophy; flitting from system to system, without venturing to hazard upon any the whole stake of his reputation. But we believe that in this his mind typifies the thought of the day; uncertain, wavering between the past and the present; between history and reality; between a spiritual philosophy, and the positive tenets of this material age. We are grateful to him, therefore, who has by turns interpreted ancient and modern doctrine, and revealed to us the sublimity of Plato, the casuistry of Descartes, in juxtaposition with the sensualism and transcendentalism of Locke and of Kant. There is something touching in his reverential awe for the master minds. We respect his modesty and unfeigned diffidence,

and sympathize in that deference toward superior genius, which hesitates to assign to it its grade in the expensive realms of thought. We would ask, moreover, what is not eclectic in our day? Is it not the common aim to extract from the known universum each essence of beauty, each form of grace? And is not each generation, or rather should it not be, a résumé of all the excellencies of past experience ?

To all the respect of M. COUSIN for the primitive thinkers, M. JOUFFROY unites more originality, with less erudition. He is a sober, earnest meditator, whose heart and head seem to have equal share in the formation of his doctrine. He aims at conciseness, and is lucid. He makes war against scepticism, advocates the higher destiny of the human soul, and presents, with great clearness, new illustrations, afforded by the history of philosophy. The name of BENJAMIN CONSTANT, associated with social and intellectual revolutions, strikes a familiar chord in many bosoms. But our speculations are carrying us already too far. We took up the pen to say, that we like the design and execution of these volumes, and not least, because the philosophy they exhibit is eclectic.


THERE is a gross deception in the title of this book, of which we imagine that the respectable publishers have been the greatest victims; although it was intended, no doubt, to operate exclusively upon the innocent public. From the imitative 'Bubbles,' stolen from SIR FRANCIS HEAD, and the popular nom de literature of SAM SLICK, readers had a right to expect a work upon Canada and its tribulations, similar in character to the sprightly and amusing volumes heretofore put forth, in the name of that shrewd and sarcastic personage, upon Nova Scotia and Yankee-land, et quibusdam aliis rebus; but the production before us has neither the lively galloping sketchiness of the gallant baronet, whose favorite attitude of 'standing with folded arms,' will doubtless immortalize his name, nor the quaint humor and keen satirical observation of the already immortal clock-maker. The 'Bubbles of Canada' is in fact nothing more than a solemn attempt to prove that the French Canadians, technically called habitans, are a set of dishonest, mutinous, rebellious rascals; that their recent attempts to meliorate their political condition, were a most unrighteous and outrageous exhibition of ingratitude and treachery; and that there never was in this world a more frightful instance of unprovoked aggression upon British clemency, generosity, and magnanimity. It is the work of a bitter partisan; ingenious, certainly, and plausible, but not to be taken without very large grains of allowance, at least until we can have an opportunity of knowing what is to be said upon the other side. A very considerable portion of its pages, nearly one half, we should think, is occupied with official documents; and most of the remainder are devoted to a highly-colored narrative of the various contests between the House of Assembly of Lower Canada and the colonial governors; or, in other words, between the habitans and what is called 'the British party.' The only portion that we have found interesting, is that giving an account of the feudal tenures, the 'droits de seigneurie,' and sundry other remarkable features of the Canadian system, originally established under the old French government, and still retained as a curious anomaly among the extensive foreign possessions of Great Britain. The book was written for England; and in that light we have no objection to urge against it. But we do protest against the substitution of SAM SLICK for the HON. JUDGE HALIBURTON, on the title-page, as a flagrant and deliberate fraud upon the public.

« 上一页继续 »