Variety's the very spico of life, That iives it all its flavor. FflOM THE . r. CNITlCVr. REVIEW. The Son of the I'orest. A l'ocm. It is with pride and pleasure that we hail the native talent which is bursting out around us. American and for eign reviewers had so long deplored the deficiency of our literature, that we had almost persuaded ourselves the goddess of dulness had established her leaden empire over us, and that this fair land, the chosen abode of peace and liberty, was nevertheless the clime " where fancy sickens and where gen ius dies." Thanks, however, to the authors of the Spy, the Sketch Book, and Yamoyden, in our own state, and many others in the union, this reproach seems likely to be taken from us. VVe have it, on the authority of Dr. Beattie, that it is difficult to " climb the steep ascent where fame's proud temple shines afar ;" but there are some ob stacles in the author's path, which are peculiar to this country. The contin ual importation of foreign works, and the lessened expense of their republi cation, naturally command the atten tion of the booksellers, who prudently prefer publishing books which have safely passed the ordeal of criticism, to adventuring on the doubtful experi ment of an unkown production. An other disadvantage to a native writer, is the decided taste for European works, and the ungrateful and unjust contempt with which American productions are here regarded. It is a tact, that Amer ican writers meet with most discour agement, where they might reasonably hope to find most favor, even in their native land. Half of the trash which, sanctioned by the title of English nov els, circulates through the union, pay ing its way as it goes, if it was of American origin, would meet with the contempt it deserves. A volume, of the sickly manufacture of Miss Porter, or one of the silly progeny of the Mi nerva press, will fill the republisher's purse while an American work of ten times the merit, struggles slowly into notice ; or perhaps dies, leaving its un fortunate parent to defray the expenses of its short career. We would not be understood as censuring the introduction of foreign works, but the indiscriminate. praise that is accorded to them, and the hasty injustice with which native productions are condemned. Was the author of the Sketch Book so caressed and flat tered till the English writers gave us the cue ? How long would the works of Brown have slumbered on the shelf, if an English reviewer had not wiped the dust of neglect from their leaves, and given them the notice they merit ed ? It is time to break the fetters of this mental vassalage, and while we enjoy the literary treasures of other nations, remember to cherish those of our own. There is also a disadvan tage to authors, that applies too forci bly to this state, and in mentioning it, v.'e confess a feeling of mortification. A work is praised or censured, as the politics of the author may happen to incline ; as if politics had aught in common with works of imagination or that the elevating influences of lit erature should be debased, or destroy ed, by the petty irritations of party squabbles. - Now, with these obstacles arrayed against him, an author must be bold to attempt, and fortunate to succeed in gaining public notice. A few stout hearts have, however, dared to enter the lists of fame, and while some have gone down to oblivion in silence, oth ers are entitled from their merits to ujd and commendation. That the au thor of Ontwa ranks in this class, we hope that our readers who have read, and those whom our extracts may tempt to read the poem, will agree with us. The subject of the story is an In-. diar. tradition, of the extirmination of the Eries by the Iroquois. The poem was composed among the scenes, where the events are supposed to have occurred, of which circumstance the freshness and spirit of the descriptions give happy evidence. The subject was not without its difficulties : to render the narrative interesting, without tres passing on probability ; to give the character of the savage its Indian tints, without painjing him ferocious ; and to represent the softer shades without violating the keeping of the picture, required a skilful hand. We do not .wv that the author of Ontwa has done all this, for wc do not mean to give our praise in unqualified terms, but we freely contribute our share of commen dation for the beauty of this poem. The story, though simple, is interest ing, the incidents are natural and ap propriate, and the characters well drawn. The author has been unfor tunate in the choice of the measure, which, exclusive of its being hackney ed and Worn out, neither admits of majesty, nor full-toned melody. Both in his descriptions and his verse, he has fixed his eye on Scott's writings ; and we are sorry for it, because he is a faulty model. Young poets should es pecially bcwr.re of studying from in ferior masters, or of acquiring the slip slop, sloven air, of the poetry of the present day. Let them turn back to the vigorous, sparkling style of Dry- den, and by making his art of poetry their manual, endeavor to escape the errors, which he well knew how to per ceive, though he would not take the pains to correct them in his own poems. Nor has our author availed himsclt of the only advantage Scott's measure possesses, that of varying his verse, the sameness of which leads sometimes to monotony. The superiority of that part of the poem, where the warriors recite their past exploits, is a strong proof of this assertion. Escaped from the trammels of the measure he had imposed upon himself, his verse be comes spirited and easy. Ontwa is supposed to relate his his tory to a missionary, whose pious zeal had led him to these trackless woods. The description of the scenes through which he passed, till he arrived at the falls of St. Anthony, forms the intro duction to the poem, and in it some of the finest passages occur. He thus speaks of a range of islands and rocks, called the Grand Traverse, at the mouth of Green Bay : ' I askM the red man for my g-uule ; He Lumch'il his bark on Krie's tide, Through all the liquid chain we ran, O'er Huron's wae and Michi'g-an, j Veering among" her linked isles ' Where the mechanic beaver toils, Still floating on, in easy way I Into her deep indented lay,f j Through rocky isles whose bolder forms Are chafed anil frittcrU down by storms, And, worn to steeps of varying &hape That architectural orders ape, Show ruin'd column, arch and niche, And wall's dilapidated breach ; "With ivy hanging from above, And plants below, that ruins love, Drooping in melancholy grace On broken frie and mould'ring base.' At last wc reach the narrow mound The wide diverging waters bound Where, almost mingling as they glide In smooth and counter-current tide, Two rivers turn in sevcr'd race, And flow, with still enlarging space, Till one rolls down beneath the north And pours its icy torrents forth, ."While glowing as it hurries on The other seeks a southern zone. Here, as the heaven dissolves in showers, The boon on either stream it pours, And the same sunbeams, as they stray, On both with light impartial play ; lint onward as each current hies, New climes and sunder'd tropicks rise, And, urging, growing, as they run, Each follows down a varying sun, Till, o'er her tepid Delta spread, The Michi-sipi bows her head, While Lawrence vainly strives to sweep His gelid surface to the deep. Scarce did the low and slender neck The progress of our passage check ; And ere our bark which, dripping, bore The marks of rival waters o'er Had lost in air its humid stain, 'Twas launch'd, and floating on again pp. 1114. At thc'falls of St. Anthonv, the mis sionary meets the wandering Ontwa, . . ..... , who, sootnecl by his kindness, tells nis 4 tale of many woes.' But it would be unjust to omit the description of this celebrated fall. ' Why checks my guide on yonder rise, And bends to earth in mute surprise, As the Great Spirit of the air Had burst upon his vision there ? Twas the vast Cataract that threw Its broad effulgence o'er his view, Like sheet of silver hung on high And glittering 'ncath the northern sky. Nor think that Pilgrim eyes could dwell On the bright torrent as it fell, With soul unawed. We look'd aboc And saw the waveless channel move, Fill'd from the fountains of the north And sent through varied regions forth, Till, deep and broad ami placid grown, It comes in quiet beauty down Unconscious of the dizzy steep O'er which its current soon must sweep. The e ye hung shudd'ring on the brink, As it had powerless wish to shrink, Then instant sunk, where mid the spray, All the bright sheet in ruin lay. The tumult swells, and on again The eMiii waters roll amain, Still foaming down in an angry pride, 'Now called the P.cavcr Islands in Lake Mi- chi-cgan, (or Grcut Lake,) as named by the na tives. f Called Green Hay, whose mouth is almost closed by a chain of islands, called the Grand Traverse. Their sides arc high, rocky, and bold ; and, being of limestone, have been worn into a thousand fantastic shapes, which, even without the aid of fancy, assume the appearances dc jeribedin the text.' TUl mingling rivers Smooth its tide. i Nor did the isle, whose promont wedg: Hangs on the torrent's dizzy edge, Escape the view ; nor sister twin That smiles amid the nether din Closed in the raging flood's embrace, And free from human footstep's trace ; Where the proud Eagle builds his throne, And rules in majesty alone.' pp 16 18. 7'o be concluded. IXDIAJV GIRL, In passing through Lake Pepin, our interpreter pointed out to us a high precipice, on the east shore of the lake, from which an Indian girl, of the Sioux nation, had many years ago, precipita ted herself in a fit of disappointed love. She had given her heart, it appears, to a young chief of her own tribe, who was very much attached to her, but the alliance was opposed by her pa rents, who wished her to marry an old chief, renowned for his wisdom and influence in the nation. As the union was insisted upon, and no other way appearing to avoid it, she determined to sacrifice her life in preference to a violation of her former vow, and while the preparations for the marriage feast were going forward, left her father's cabin, without exciting suspicion, and before she could be overtaken, threw herself from an awful precipice, and was instantly dashed to a thousand pieces. Such an instance of sentiment is rarely to be met with among barba rians, and should redeem the name of this noble-minded girl from oblivion. It was Oo-la-i-ta. Schoolcraft's Journal. mOJI TUE QUABTEULT HEVIEW. THE POWER OF IMAGINATION. " One of the most striking instances of the amazing influence which the imagination possesses, not over the feelings" merely, but upon the actual state and functions of the bodily or ganization, is related by professor Hufeland; this case is so interesting, and, we may add, so instructive, that we are tempted, notwithstanding its length, to lay it before our readers. " A student at Jena, about 16 years of age, having a weak and irritable nervous frame, but in other respects healthy, left his apartments during twi light, and suddenly returned with a pale dismal countenance, assuring his companion that he was doomed to die in thirty-six hours, or at 9 o'clock on the morning of the second day. This sudden change of a cheerful young mind, naturally alarmed his friend ; but no explanation was given of its cause. Every attempt at ridiculing this whimsical notion was fruitless, and he persisted in affirming that his death was certain and inevitable. A numerous circle of his fellow-students soon assembled, with a view to dispel those gloomy ideas, and to convince him of his folly, by arguments, satire and mirth. He remained, however, unshaken in his strange conviction ; be ing apparently inanimate in their com pany, and expressing his indignation at the frolics and witticisms applied to his peculiar situation. Nevertheless, it was conjectured that a calm repose during the night, would produce a more favorable c.iange in his fancy ; but sleep was banished, and the ap proaching dissolution engrossed his at tention during the nocturnal hours. Early next morning, he sent for pro fessor Hufeland, who found him em ployed in making arrangements for his burial ; taking an affectionate leave of his friends ; and on the point of conclu ding a letter to his father, in which he announced the fatal catastrophe that was speedily to happen. u After examining his condition of mind and body, the professor could discover no remarkable deviation from his usual state of health, excepting a small contracted pulse, a pale counte nance, dull or drowsy eyes, and cold extremities : these symptoms howev er, sufficiently indicated a general spas modic action of the nervous system, which also exerted its influence over the mental faculties. The most seri ous reasoning on the subject, and all the philosophical and medical elo quence of Dr. Hufeland had not the desired effect ; and though the student admitted that there might be no osten sible cause of death discoverable, yet this very circumstance was peculiar to his case ; and such was his inexorable destiny, that he must die next morning, without any visible morbid symptoms. In this dilemma, Dr. Hufeland propos ed to treat him as a patient. Polite ness induced the latter to accept of such offer, but he assured the physician that medicines would not operate. As no time was to be lost, there being on ly twenty-four hours left for his life, Dr. Hufeland deemed proper to direct such remedies as prove powerful exci tants, in order to rouse the vital ener gy of his pupil, and to relieve him from his captivated fancy. Hence he prescribed a strong emetic and purga tive ; ordered blisters to be applied to both calves of the legs, and at the same time stimulating clysters to be admin istered. Quietly submitting to the Doctor's treatment, he observed, that his body being already half a corpse, all means of recovering it would be in vain. Indeed, Dr. Hufeland was not a little surprised, on his repeating his visit in the evening, to learn that the emetic had but very little operated, and that the blisters had not even redden ed the skin. The case became more serious, and the supposed victim of death began to triumph over the incre dulity of the professor and his friends. " Thus circumstanced, Dr. Hufeland perceived, how deeply and destructive ly that mental spasm must have acted on the body, to produce a degree of insensibility from which the worst con sequences might be apprehended. All the inquiries into the origin of this singular belief had hitherto been unsuc cessful. Now, only, he disclosed the secret to one of his intimate iriends, j namely, that on tne preceding evening he had met with a white figure in the passage, which nodded to him, and, in the same moment, he heard a voice ex claiming 44 The day after to-morrow, at nine o'clock in the morning, thou shalt die !" He continued to settle his domestic affairs ; made his will ; mi nutely appointed his funeral ; and even desired his friends to send for a cler gyman ; which request, however, was counteracted. Night appeared, and he began to compute the hours he had to live, till the ominous next morning. His anxiety evidently increased with the striking of every clock within hear ing. Dr. Hufeland was not without apprehension, when he recollected in stances in which mere imagination had produced melancholy effects ; but, as every thing depended on procrastina ting, or retarding that hour in which the event was predicted ; and on ap peasing the tempest on a perturbed imagination, till reason had again ob tained the ascendancy, he resolved up on the following expedient : Having a complaisant patient, who refused not to take the remedies prescribed for him, (because he seemed conscious of the superior agency of his mind over that of the bod),) Dr. Hufeland had recourse to laudanum, combined with the extract of hen-bane ; twenty drops of the former, and two grains of the latter, were given to the youth, with such effect, that he fell into a profound sleep, from which he did not awake till eleven o'clock the next morning. Thus, the prognosticated fatal hour elapsed ; and his friends, waiting to welcome the bashful patient, who had agreeably dis appointed them, turned the whole af fair into ridicule. The first question, however, after recovering from this ar tificial sleep, was " What is the hour of the morning?" On being inform ed that his presages had not been veri fied by experience, he assured the com pany that all these transactions appear ed but a dream. After that time, he long enjoyed a good state of health, and was completely cured of a morbid imagination. "Had this youth fallen into less sa gacious hands, the event would, it is more than probable, have answered to the prediction ; and the occurrence would have stood as irrefragable evi dence of that creed which imagines that the times have not long since pass ed of individual and immediate com munication between the world of sense and the world of spirits. How the fancy originated, it is difficult to say ; but it is not less difficult to explain the nhenomena of dreams." 4 AltCHBISHOP MOUNTAIN". In the reign of George II. the sec of York falling vacant, his majesty being at a loss for a fit person to appoint to the ex alted situation, asked the opinion of the Rev. Dr. Mountain, who had raised him self by his remarkably facetious temper from being the son of a beggar to the see of Durham. The Doctor wittily replied, " Hadst thou faith as a grain of mustard seed, thou wouldst say to this Mountain (at the same lime laying his hand on his breast, be removed and be thou cast into the sea (see.)" His Majesty laughed heartily, and forthwith conferred the pro ferment on the facetious doctor. He who will not be cheated a little, will be abused a great deal, and by that means suffer no less in his fortune, than in his reputation : our first lesson, there fore, in the art of economy, should ev er be to learn how to permit ourselves to be properly imposed on, in due pro portion to our situation and crrcum stances. COSSC1EJTCE. There is perhaps no mistake more common and dangerous than that which is generally entertained in regard to conscience. Nothing is more com mon than to hear men say, thank God, I do nothing for which my conscience condemns me ; while at the same time they are living in the practice of those things which are not only condemned by the law of God, but by the reason and judgment of those whe have a ve ry moderate standard of morals. What, in fact, is conscience ? It is an internal monitor implanted in us by our Creator, teaching us, infallibly, the moral turpitude and rectitude of things ? If so, how is it that it teaches so differ ently and contradictorily in different persons, and especially in different ages and parts of the world ? The poor In dian who plunges his infant in the wa ters of the Ganges, and offers it as an acceptable service to God pleads the excuse of his conscience. The Druids' Qf Qj whQ set annually an immense fijrUre of a wicker man, in the texture of which they entwined above a hun dred human victims, and consumed the whole as an offering to their God,-plead-ed their conscience. And St. Paul thought verily that he was doing God service when he was, before his con version, slaying his fellow creatures. In short, there is no crime, nor super stition, however gross or cruel, which has not been acted under the sanction of conscience. Can that, then, be a safe guide which has led its votaries to such issues ? What is generally called conscience is in fact nothing more or less than the force of education or custom or consti tutional predisposition. Often it is the same thing as a man's wishes. He chooses out to himself the course of in dulgence suited to his inclination, and then accommodates his conscience to his determination, either by drugging it with opiates, or by perverting it with false reasonings and examples. In these cases, conscience either loses the power of action, or, becoming a cow ard, will not have boldness to accuse what it has not resolution to prevent, or like a judge in court, surrounded by false witnesses and corrupt counsellors, will be led to pass a false verdict. Who among us has not reason to tremble, when we see the daring atheist the impious blasphemer, the hardened murderer going out of the world with a shocking and stupid insensibility, which he dignifies with the name of a good conscience I .Who will say, that conscience is to be trusted, when it per mits and sanctions every day such gross outrages ? In man's primeval innocence, con science held out a pure and perfect law, and its dictates wrere a sure comment upon the question of his conformity to the moral standard. But it has shared the fate of all the faculties in the gen eral wreck of human nature. It lies buried under the ruins of the fall. Its lights are extinguished, its energies im paired, and its vibrations, if felt at all, are no longer the true monitors of du ty. It is only when touched by the regenerating power of the cross, that it can give us any sure and distinct notices ; and even then, it is not suffi cient to inform us of our duty. It on ly approves or disapproves, according to a rule previously made known. The word conscience, by virtue of its de rivation, signifiies to know together with another. Thus, conscience, when forming a harmonious concurrence with the scriptures, becomes a useful and important auxiliary. The circum stance of our thinking aright depends upon so many and various contingen cies of education, of custom, of cli mate, and of constitutional tempera ment, (and conscience, as followed by the world, at last is nothing more than this,) that it would seem unjust to sup pose that God would have left us to grope, our way through these tortuous and perplexing mediums to the knowl edge of our duty. dr. wilmer. Ager said, " give me neither poverty nor riches ; and this will ever be the prayer of the wise.' Our incomes should be like our shoes if too small, they will 'all and pinch usr but, if too large, they will cause us to stumble and to trip. But wealth, after all, is a relative thing, since he lhat has little, and wants less, is richer than he that has much, but wants more. True contentment depends not upon what we have, but upon what we would have ; a tub was large enough for Diogenes, but a yorju; was top little fcr Alexander.