Page images
PDF
EPUB

son's Bay and the Meshacebe,") which falls from the north towards the south into the Gulf of Mexico.

This last river, in a course of more than a thousand leagues irrigates a delicious country which the inhabitants of the United States call the New Eden, and to which the French have given the sweet name of Louisiana. A thousand other rivers, tributaries of the Meschacebe, the Missouri, the Illinois, the Akansa, the Ohio, the Wabache, the Tenase, enrich it with their deposit and fertilize it with their waters. When all these are swollen by the floods of winter, when the tempests have strewn entire plains of forests, the uprooted trees assemble around their sources. Soon the mud cements them, the tie-vines connect them; and the plants taking root throughout on all sides complete the consolidation of these ruins. Carried by the foaming waves, they descend the Meschaccbe, the river siezes them, thrusts them upon the Mexican Gulf, runs them aground on sand banks, and thus increases the number of its outlets. At intervals, it raises its voice while passing along the mountains, and wastes its waters overflowingly among the colonnades of the forests and the pyramids of Indian tombs; it is the Nile of the deserts. But grace is always united with magnificence in the scenes of nature: while in the midst of the main current the dead trunks of poplars and oaks are hurried away towards the sea, floating islands of pistia and water-lilies, on which yellow roses arise like small pavillions, may be seen winding around in the eddies upon the two latteral currents along the banks. Green serpents, blue herons, rosy flamingoes, young crocodiles embark as passengers upon these flowery vessels; and the colony, displaying to the wind its golden sails and lulled in slumber arrive at shore in some retired bayou of the river.

The two banks of the Meschacebe present the most extraordinary tableau. On the western side the Savannas roll off as far as the eye can reach; their waves of verdure flowing over them seem to mount into the azure of heaven, where they vanish away. On the boundless prairies one may see herds of three or four thousand wild buffaloes wandering at hazzard. Sometimes a bison charged with years, may be seen, ploughing the waves in swimming, going to lie down amidst the tall grass

12) True name of the Mississippi or Mescassippi.-Author.
The original names are uniformly retained in Atala.-TRANSLATOR.

on an isle of the Meschacebe. By his forehead, adorned with two cresents, by his old and shaggy beard, you would take him for the god of the river, who casts a glance of satisfaction upon the grandeur of his waves, and the wild abundance of his banks.

Such is the scene on the western side; but it is changed on the opposite side, and forms an admirable contrast with the other. Suspended over the course of the water, grouped over the rocks and over the mountains, scattered through the vallies, trees of all forms, of all colors, and of all perfumes grow mingling themselves together, mounting into the air to heights which weary the sight. The wild vines, the bignonias, the coloquintes entwine themselves around the feet of the trees, scale the boughs, climb along to the very end of the branches, shoot out from the maple to the tuliptree, from the tulip-tree to the alcee forming among them thousands of grottos, thousands of arches, thousands of piazzas. Often wandering from tree to tree these lianes cross the arms of the streams, over which they cast bridges of flowers. From the breast of these masonry works, the magnolia raises its motionless cone; surmounted by its large white flowers, it commands all the forest, and has no rival except the palm-tree which, by its side, gently waves its fans of verdure.

A multitude of animals, placed in this retreat by the hand of the Creator, spread enchantment and life around the spot. From the extremity of the avenues one may perceive bears intoxicated with grapes, tottering among the branches of young elms; cariboux bathe themselves in a lake, black squirrels sport about in the denseness of the foliage, mocking birds, the doves of Virginia, of the size of a sparrow descend upon the sward red with strawberries; green parrots with yellow heads, bloody woodpeckers, cardinals of fire climb their winding way high as the cypress, humming birds sparkle around the jasmins of Florida, and bird catching serpents hiss suspended from the domes of the woods, while waving themselves there like the lianes.

If silence and repose pervade the Savannas on the other side of the river, here on the contrary, noise and confusion reigns, the rattle of beaks pecking against the trunks of the oaks, the rustle of animals tramping about, browsing and cracking the stones of fruit between their teeth; the murmur of the ripples, the faint moanings, the dull bellowings, the sweet cooings, fill these deserts with a tender aud wild harmony. But when a breeze animates

these solitudes, waves the floating bodies, mingles together these masses of white, of azure, of green, of rose; blending all colors, reuniting all rumblings: then the depths of the forests emit such sounds, and present such sights before the eyes, that I would attempt in vain to describe them to those who have not traversed these primitive fields of nature.

After the discovery of the Meschacebe by Father Marquette and the unfortunate La Salle, the first Frenchmen who established themselves at Biloxi and at New Orleans, made an alliance with the Natchez, an Indian nation, whose power was formidable in those countries. Quarrels and jealousies by turns stained the land of hospitality with blood. Among those savages lived an old man named Chactas,13) who by his age, his wisdom and his skill in the affairs of life, was the patriarch and the beloved of the deserts. Like all men he had purchased virtue by misfortune. Not only the forest of the New World were filled with his afflictions, but they were borne even over to the shores of France. Retained in the galleys at Marseilles by a cruel injustice, surrendered to liberty, presented to Louis XIV; he had conversed with the great men of the age, was present at the fetes of Versailles, witnessed the tragedies of Racine, heard the funeral orations of Bossuet; in a word, the savage had contemplated society at its highest point of splendor.

After many years, having returned unto the bosom of his country, Chactas enjoyed repose. Nevertheless this favor was purchased of heaven at a high price; the old man had become blind. A young girl accompanied him over the hills of the Meschacebe, as Antigone guided the step of Oedipus over the Citheron, or as Malvina led Ossian over the rocks of Morven.

In spite of the numerous acts of injustice which Chactas had experienced from the hands of the French, he loved them. He always remembered Fenelon, whose hospitality he had enjoyed, and desired to be able to render some service to the compatriots of that virtuous man. A favorable occasion was presented to him. In 1725, a Frenchman, named Rene, impelled by passions and misfortunes, arrived at Louisiana. He ascended the Meschaccbe as far as the Natchez, and begged to be received as a warrior of that nation. Chactas, having interrogated him and finding him

13) Harmonious voice.

firm in his resolution, adopted him as a son, and gave him for a wife, an Indian woman, called Celuta. A short time after this marriage, the savages prepared themselves to hunt the beaver.

Chactas, although blind, was designated by the council of the Sachems11) to command the expedition, on account of the respect which the Indian tribes bore him. Prayers and fasts commence; the jugglers interpret dreams; some consult the Manitous; some make sacrifices of tobacco; some burn fillets of elk-tongues; some examine whether they sparkle in the flame, in order to discover the will of the Genii; they seperate at last, after having eaten the consecrated dog. Rene is of the band. By the aid of counter currents the pirogues ascend the Meschacebe, and enter within the bed of the Ohio. It is in autumn. The magnificent wilds of Kentucky display themselves before the astonished eyes of the young Frenchman. One night, by the light of the moon, while all the Natchez were sleeping on the bottom of their pirogues, and the Indian fleet, raising its skinny sails, moved along before a light breeze, Rene, remaining alone with Chactas, asked him for the recital of his adventures. The old man agreed to satisfy him, and seated by his side, on the stern of the pirogue, he began with these words: (Continuation forthcoming.)

FAUST.

FROM THE GERMAN OF GOETHE.

Translated by the Junior Editor.

Two souls alas! in my breast dwell,
Diversely they themselves impel;
The one with strong love-rapture clings
Fast to the world with clasping rings;
The other strives with power to fly,
To its ancestral home on high.
"Tween earth and heaven near above,
Through air, do Spirits ruling move?
Descend ye then and overwhelm,
And lead me to your golden realm.
Oh! had I but the power sublime
To bear myself in that strange clime,
I'd prize it highest in my heart,
Nor for earth's kingdom with it part.

14) Old men or counsellors.

LADIES.

BY THE JUNIOR EDITOR.

The time is at hand, when the motions of her spirit,') must affect a lady in her caste of society, as much as, if not more than, even the carriage of her person.

Men of pure high spirit can resist the allurements of personal grace in woman. In this respect the lower may sometimes have the advantage over the higher caste. But the fascinating charm is in the grace of spirit, and this is utterly irresistible. This is the exclusive prerogative of the highest caste-the distinctive peculiarity of the genuine bon ton.

We would fondly clasp the "Corinne" of De Stael, while we should shrink with aversion from the "Fallen Angel" of Dumas. There was a low rank of society. There is a high rank of society. The former was sensuous. The latter is spirituous. Venus and Cupid are supplanted by Eros and Psyche.

The lady who has only a body, though ornamented with meretricious decorations, belongs to a low rank. The lady who has a pure high spirit, and is distinguished by simplicity of dress, belongs to a rank,-next to the angels.

IDEAL BEAUTY.

By the Junior Editor.

That spirit dwelling in an earthly mould,
A woman whose bright intellect is wove
With the warm threads of feeling; never cold,
But whose fair lines of character may rove
Beyond the fashion of a prudish mind,

And circumscribed only with the bound,
Of truth and goodness ; delicate, refined,

Yet firmly fixed with each trait on the ground,

The golden ground—of fair propriety,

In which are set the gems of polished wit,
Affection's flowers in rich variety—

Oh! were she on this earth-with eyes love-lit
And gracefully embodied; 'twere one's duty,
With a pure passion's fire, to love such Beauty.

1) The man that hath no music in himself, Is fit for treason &c.,

The motions of his spirit are dull as night!

SHAKSPEARE.

« PreviousContinue »