numbers the publication of Oneota, or the Red Race in America, their History, Traditions, Customs, Poetry, Picture Writing, etc., in Extracts from Notes, Journals, and other Unpublished Writings, of which one octavo volume has been completed. In 1845 he delivered an address before a society known as the "Was-ah Ho-de-no-sonne, or New Confederacy of the Iroquois," and published Observations on the Grave Creek Mound in Western Virginia, in the Transactions of the American Ethnological Society; and early in the following year presented in the form of a Report to the legislature of his native state, his Notes on the Iroquois, or Contributions to the Statistics, Aboriginal History, and General Ethnology of Western New York. His latest production is an Address delivered at the anniversary meeting of the New York Historical Society, on the first Tuesday of December, 1846.

Mr. Schoolcraft's ethnological writings are among the most important contributions that have been made to the literature of this country. His long and intimate connection with the Indian tribes, and the knowledge possessed by his wife and her family of the people from whom they were descended by the maternal side, with his power of examining their character from the European point of view, have enabled him to give us more authentic and valuable information respecting their manners, customs, and physical traits, and more insight into their moral and intellectual constitution, than can be derived, perhaps, from all other authors. His works abound in materials for the future artist and man of letters, and will on this account continue to be read when the greater portion of the popular literature of the day is forgotten. With the forests which they inhabited, the red race have disappeared with astonishing rapidity; until recently they have rarely been the subjects of intelligent study; and it began to be regretted, as they were seen fading from our sight, that there was so little written respect ing them that had any pretensions to fidelity. I would not be understood to undervalue the productions of Eliot, Loskiel, Heckewelder, Brainerd, and other early missionaries, but they were restricted in design, and it is not to be denied that confidence in their representations has been much impaired, less perhaps from doubts of their integrity than of their ability and of the advantages of the points

The influence which the original and peculiar myths and historical traditions of the Indians is to have on our imaginative literature, has been recently more than ever exhibited in the works of our authors. The tendency of the public taste to avail itself of the American mythology as a basis for the exhibition of "new lines of fictitious creations" has been remarked by Mr. Schoolcraft himself in Oneota, and he refers to the tales of Mrs. Oakes Smith, and to the Wild Scenes in the Forest and the Prairie, and the Vigil of Faith, by Mr. Charles F. Hoffman, as works in which this tendency is most distinctly perceptible. In the writings of W. H. C. Hosmer, the legends of Mr. Whittier, and some of the poems of Mr. Longfellow, and Mr. Lowell, we see manifestations of the same disposition.

No one who has not had the most ample opportunities of personal observation should attempt to mould Indian life and mythology to the purposes of fiction without carefully studying whatever Mr. Schoolcraft has published respecting them. The chief distinction of the Algic style with which he has made us acquainted is its wonderful simplicity and conciseness, with which the common verbosity, redundant description, false sentiment and erroneous manners of what are called Indian tales, are as little in keeping as "English figures in moccasins and holding bows and arrows."

SCENERY OF LAKE SUPERIOR.

FROM ONEOTA.

FEW portions of America can vie in scenic attractions with this interior sea. Its size alone gives it all the elements of grandeur, but these have been heightened by the mountain masses which nature has piled along its shores. In some places these masses consist of vast walls of coarse gray or drab sandstone, placed horizontally until they have attained many hundred feet in height above the water. The action of such an immense liquid area, forced against these crumbling walls by tempests, has caused wide and deep arches to be worn into the solid structure at their base, into which the billows rush with a noise resembling low pealing thunder. By this means, large areas of the impending mass are at length undermined and precipitated into the lake, leaving the split and rent parts from which they have separated standing like huge misshapen turrets and battlements. Such is the varied coast called the Pictured Rocks.

At other points of the coast volcanic forces have operated, lifting up these level strata into positions nearly vertical, and leaving them to stand like the leaves of an open book. At the same time, the volcanic rocks sent up from below have risen in high mountain piles. Such is the condition of things at the Porcupine Mountains.

The basin and bed of this lake act as a vast geological mortar, in which the masses of broken and fallen stones are whirled about and ground down till all the softer ones, such as the sandstones, are brought into the state of pure yellow sand. This sand is driven ashore by the waves, where it is shoved up in long wreaths till dried by the sun. The winds now take it up and spread it inland, or pile it immediately along the coast, where it presents itself in mountain masses. Such are the great Sand Dunes of the Grande Sables.

There are yet other theatres of action for this sublime mass of inland waters, where it has manifested perhaps still more strongly, if not so strikingly, its abrasive powers. The whole force of the lake, under the impulse of a north-west tempest, is directed against prominent portions of the shore, which consist of the black and hard volcanic rocks. Solid as these are, the waves have found an entrance in veins of spar or minerals of softer structure, and have thus been led inland, and torn up large fields of amygdaloid and other rock, or left portions of them standing in rugged knobs or promontories. Such are the east and west coasts of the great peninsula of Keweena, which has recently become the theatre of mining operations.

When the visiter to these remote and boundless waters come to see this wide and varied scene of complicated attractions, he is absorbed in wonder and astonishment. The eye, once introduced to this panorama of waters, is never done looking and admiring. Scene after scene, cliff after cliff, island after island, and vista after vista are presented. One day's scenes are but the prelude to another,

and when weeks and months have been spent in picturesque rambles along its shores, the traveller has only to ascend some of its streams and go inland to find falls and cascades, and cataracts of the most beautiful or magnificent character. Go where he will, there is something to attract him. Beneath his feet the pebbles are agates. The water is of the most crystalline purity. The sky is filled at sunset with the most gorgeous piles of clouds. The air itself is of the purest and most inspiriting kind. To visit such a scene is to draw health from its purest fountains, and to revel in intellectual delights.

SHINGEBISS.

FROM THE SAME.

[From the Odjibwa-Algonquin]

THERE was once a Shingebiss, living alone in a solitary lodge on the shores of the deep bay of a lake, in the coldest winter weather. The ice had formed on the water, and he had but four logs of wood to keep his fire. Each of these would, however, burn a month; and, as there were but four cold winter months, they were sufficient to carry him through till spring.

no one.

Shingebiss was hardy and fearless, and cared for He would go out during the coldest day and seek for places where flags and rushes grew through the ice, and plucking them up with his bill, would dive through the openings in quest of fish. In this way he found plenty of food, while others were starving; and he went home daily to his lodge, dragging strings of fish after him on the ice.

Kabeboniccat observed him, and felt a little piqued at his perseverance and good luck in defiance of the severest blasts of wind he could send from the North-West. 66 Why! this is a wonderful man," said he; "he does not mind the cold, and appears as happy and contented as if it were the month of June. I will try whether he cannot be mastered." He poured forth ten-fold colder blasts and drifts of snow, so that it was next to impossible to live in the open air. Still the fire of Shingebiss did not go out; he wore but a single strip of leather around his body, and he was seen in the worst weather searching the shores for rushes and carrying home fish.

"I shall go and visit him," said Kabebonicca one day, as he saw Shingebiss dragging along a quantity of fish; and accordingly that very night he went to the door of his lodge. Meantime Shingebiss had cooked his fish and finished his meal, and was lying, partly on his side, before the fire, singing his songs. After Kabebonicca had come to the door and stood listening there, he sang as follows:

Ka be bon oc ca Neej in in ec we-ya! Ka be bon oc ca Neej in in ec we-ya! The number of words in this song are few and simple, but they are made up from compounds

The name of a kind of duck.

† A personification of the North-West.

which carry the whole of their original meanings, | and are rather suggestive of the ideas floating in the mind than actual expressions of those ideas. Literally he sings:

Spirit of the North-West! you are but my fellow-man. By being broken into syllables to correspond with a simple chant, and by the power of intonation and repetition, with a chorus, these words are expanded into melodious utterance, if we may be allowed the term, and may be thus rendered.

Windy god, I know your plan,
You are but my fellow-man;

Blow you may your coldest breeze,
Shingebiss you cannot freeze;
Sweep the strongest wind you can,
Shingebiss is still your man.

Heigh! for life-and ho! for bliss;
Who so free as Shingebiss?

The hunter knew that Kabebonicca was at his door, for he felt his cold and strong breath; but he kept on singing his songs, and affected utter indifference. At length Kabebonicca entered, and took his seat on the opposite side of the lodge; but Shingebiss did not regard or notice him. He got up as if nobody were present, and, taking his poker, pushed the log, which made his fire burn brighter, repeating as he sat down again:

You are but my fellow-man.

Very soon the tears began to flow down Kabebonicca's cheeks, which increased so fast that presently he said to himself, "I cannot stand this-I must go out." He did so, and left Shingebiss to his songs; but resolved to freeze up all the flag orifices and make the ice thick, so that he could not get any more fish. Still Shingebiss, by dint of great diligence, found means to pull up new roots and dive under for fish. At last Kabebonicca was compelled to give up the contest. "He must be aided by some Monedo," said he; "I can neither freeze him, nor starve him; he is a very singular being. I will let him alone."

THE IROQUOIS.

FROM AN ADDRESS BEFORE THE WAS-AH HO-DE-NO-SON-NE.

LOOKING around over the wide forests and translucent lakes of New York, we have beheld the footprints of the lordly Iroquois, crowned by the feathers of the eagle, bearing in his hand the bow and arrows, and scorning by the keen glances of his black eye, and the loftiness of his tread, the very earth that bore him up. History and tradition speak of the story of this ancient race.-They paint him as a man of war-of endurance-of indomitable courage-of capacity to endure tortures without complaint-of a heroic and noble independence. They tell us that these precincts, now waving with yellow corn, and smiling with villages, and glittering with spires, were once vocal with their war songs, and resounded with the chorusses of their corn feasts. We descry, as we plough the plain, the well-chipped darts which pointed their arrows, and the elongated pestles that crushed their maze. We exhume from their obliterated and simple graves the pipe of steatite, in which they smoked, and offered incense to these

deities, and the fragments of the culinary vases, around which the lodge circle gathered to their forest meal. Mounds and trenches and ditches speak of the movement of tribe against tribe, and dimly shadow forth the overthrow of nations. There are no plated columns of marble-no tablets of inscribed stone-no gates of rust-coated brass. But the man himself survives in his generation. He is a walking statue before us. His looks and his gestures and his language remain. And he is himself an attractive monument to be studied. Shall we neglect him and his antiquarian vestiges, to run after foreign sources of intellectual study? Shall we toil amid the ruins of Thebes and Palmyra, while we have before us the monumental enigma of an unknown race? Shall philosophical ardour expend itself in searching after the buried sites of Nineveh, and Babylon, and Troy, while we have not attempted, with decent research, to collect, arrange, and determine the leading data of our aboriginal history and antiquities? ...

No branch of the human family is an object unworthy of high philosophic inquiry. Their food, their language, their arts, their physical peculiar ities, and their mental traits are each topics of deep interest, and susceptible of being converted into evidences of high importance. Mistaken our Red Men clearly were, in their theories and opinions on many points. They were wretched theologists and poor casuists. But not more so, in threefourths of their dogmas, than the disciples of Zoroaster, or Confucius. They were polytheists from their very position. And yet, there is a general idea, that under every form they acknow ledged but one divine intelligence under the name of the Great Spirit.

They paid their sacrifices to the imaginary and fantastic gods of the air, the woods and water, as Greece and Rome had done, and done as blindly, before them. But they were a vigorous, hardy, and brave off-shoot of the original race of man. They were full of humanities. They had many qualities to command admiration. They were wise in council, they were eloquent in the defence of their rights. They were kind and humane to the weak, bewildered, and friendless. Their lodgeboard was ever ready for the wayfarer. were constant to a proverb in their professed friendships. They never forgot a kind act. Nor can it be recorded, to their dispraise, that they were a terror to their enemies. Their character was formed on the military principle, and to acquire distinction in this line, they roved over half the continent....

They

But all their efforts would have ended in disappointment had it not been for that principle of confederation, which, at an early day, pervaded their councils and converted them into a phalanx, which no other tribe could successfully penetrate or resist. It is this trait by which they are most distinguished from the other hunter nations of North America; and it is to their rigid adherence to the verbal compact, which bound them together as tribes and clans, that they owe their present celebrity, and owed their former power.

THE REVEREND ORVILLE DEWEY, D.D., was born in Sheffield, Berkshire county, Massachusetts, in the year 1794, and after graduating in 1814 at Williams College, studied theology in the seminary at Andover. His views respecting the doctrine of the Trinity had from the first been unsettled, and at the end of a year from his first entrance into the ministry he joined the Unitarians. When Dr. Channing, soon after, went to Europe, Mr. Dewey took his place; and that he was able for a long time to give perfect satisfaction to a society accustomed to the sermons of Channing is evidence that he had great merits as a preacher.

He was subsequently pastor of a church in New Bedford, for about ten years, at the end of which period ill health made necessary his temporary retirement from the pulpit, and he passed two years in foreign travel. Soon after his return he became pastor of the church of the Messiah in New York, with which he has since retained his connection, except during a second visit to Europe in 1841 and 1842. In 1835 he published Discourses on Various Subjects, selected from those he had preached to his congregation at New Bedford, and containing some of his finest religious essays.

This volume was followed in the spring of 1836 with The Old World and the New, being a Journal of Observations and Reflections made on a Visit to Europe in 1833 and 1834: a very interesting work, with descriptive passages quite equal to any in the books of Slidell Mackenzie, Caleb Cushing, or the later American travellers in the same countries, and others betraying a profound sympathy with humanity, and containing just reflections on the social, political and religious condition of the people, under various institutions, which place it in the first class of speculative diaries.

In 1838 he published Moral Views of Commerce, Society and Politics, in Twelve Discourses, on the moral laws of trade, the uses of labour and passion for a fortune, the moral limits of accumulation, the natural and artificial relations of society, the moral evil to which American society is exposed, the place

which education and religion must have in the improvement of society, and on associations, social ambition, war, political morality, and the blessings of freedom: subjects out of the usual range of pulpit discussion, (which still has too little to do with the great mass of human actions and interests,) but none the less worthy on this account of being treated by a Christian minister. This is one of the best practical books on the dangers and duties of the Christian freeman that has been written. The interesting questions which it embraces are discussed with calmness, candor, and generally sound judgment. Customs and opinions are subjected to the test of Christian morality, and whatever will not bear this, however sanctioned by observance or authority, is with vigor and manly frankness pointed out and condemned. In 1841 he gave to the public his fourth work, under the title of Discourses on Human Life; and in 1846 a fifth, embracing Discourses and Reviews on Questions relating to Controversial Theology and Practical Religion. In addition to these volumes he has published many single sermons, eulogies and other tracts, some of which are among his best and most useful performances.

Dr. Dewey is one of the most popular pulpit orators this country has produced. He is admired by those who are capable of appreciating the philosophy of morals, without reference to his peculiar theological belief. His reasoning is generally comprehensive, and his illustrations often poetical. There is a happy mixture of ease and finish in his style, and he is remarkable for interesting the hearer in themes which would be trite if treated with less earnestness. Perhaps the pathos of his rhetoric is its most effective characteristic. In speaking of the wants, sufferings and destinies of humanity, there is frequently a touching eloquence in his appeals which strikes a responsive chord in every sensitive and thoughtful heart.

An edition of his works has recently been published in England, and another, enlarged, was commenced in 1846 in New York.

THE DANGER OF RICHES.
FROM MORAL VIEWS OF SOCIETY, ETC.

AH! the rust of riches!-not that portion of them which is kept bright in good and holy uses"and the consuming fire" of the passions which wealth engenders! No rich man-I lay it down as an axiom of all experience-no rich man is safe, who is not a benevolent man. No rich man is safe, but in the imitation of that benevolent God, who is the possessor and dispenser of all the riches of

the universe. What else mean the miseries of a selfish, luxurious and fashionable life everywhere? What mean the sighs that come up from the purlieus, and couches, and most secret haunts of all splendid and self-indulgent opulence? Do not tell me that other men are sufferers too. Say not that the poor, and destitute and forlorn, are miserable also. Ah! just heaven! thou hast in thy mysterious wisdom appointed to them a lot hard, full hard, to bear.

Poor houseless wretches! who "eat the bitter bread of penury, and drink the baleful cup of misery;" the winter's winds blow keenly through your " looped and windowed raggedness;" your children wander about unshod, unclothed and untended; I wonder not that ye sigh. But why should those who are surrounded with every thing that heart can wish, or imagination conceive-the very crumbs that fall from whose table of prosperity might feed hundreds-why should they sigh amidst their profusion and splendour? They have broken the bond that should connect power with usefulness, and opulence with mercy. That is the reason. They have taken up their treasures, and wandered away into a forbidden world of their own, far from the sympathies of suffering humanity; and the heavy night-dews are descending upon their splendid revels; and the all-gladdening light of heavenly beneficence is exchanged for the sickly glare of selfish enjoyment; and happiness, the blessed angel that hovers over generous deeds and heroic virtues, has fled away from that world of false gaiety and fashionable exclusion.

FREEDOM OF OPINION.

FROM THE SAME.

OBSERVE, in how many relations, political, religious and social, a man is liable to find bondage instead of freedom. If he wants office, he must attach himself to a party, and then his eyes must be sealed in blindness, and his lips in silence, toward all the faults of his party. He may have his eyes open, and he may see much to condemn, but he must say nothing. If he edits a newspaper, his choice is often between bondage and beggary. That may actually be the choice, though he does not know it. He may be so completely a slave, that he does not feel the chain. His passions may be so enlisted in the cause of his party, as to blind his discrimination, and destroy all comprehension and capability of independence. So it may be with the religious partisan. He knows, perhaps, that there are errors in his adopted creed, faults in his sect, fanaticism and extravagance in some of its

measures. See if you get him to speak of them. See if you can get him to breathe a whisper of doubt. No, he is always believing. He has a convenient phrase that covers up all difficulties in his creed. He believes it "for substance of doctrine." Or if he is a layman, perhaps he does not believe it at all. What then is his conclusion? Why, he has friends who do believe it; and he does not wish to offend them. And so he goes on, acquiescing, inwardly remonstrating; the slave of listening to what he does not believe; outwardly fear or fashion, never daring, not once in his life daring, to speak out openly the thought that is in him. Nay, he sees men suffering under the weight of public reprobation, for the open espousal of the very opinions he holds, and he has never the generosity or manliness to say, "I think so too." Nay, more; by the course he pursues, he is made to cast his stone, or he holds it in his hand, at least, and lets another arm apply the force necessary to cast it, at the very men who are suffering a sort of martyrdom for his own faith!

I am not now advocating any particular opinions. I am only advocating a manly freedom in the expression of those opinions which a man does entertain. And if those opinions are unpopular, I hold that, in this country, there is so much the more need of an open and independent expression of them. Look at the case most seriously, I beseech you. What is ever to correct the faults of society, if nobody lifts his voice against them; if every body goes on openly doing what everybody privately complains of; if all shrink behind the fainthearted apology, that it would be over-bold in them to attempt any reform? What is to rebuke political time-serving, religious fanaticism, or social folly, if no one has the independence to protest against them? Look at it in a larger view. What barrier is there against the universal despotism of public opinion in this country, but individual freedom! Who is to stand up against it here, but the possessor of that lofty independence? There is no king, no sultan, no noble, no privileged class; nobody else to stand against it. If you yield this point, if you are for ever making compromises, if all men do this, if the entire policy of private life here, is to escape opposition and reproach, every thing will be swept beneath the popular wave. There will be no individuality, no hardihood, no high and stern resolve, no self-subsistence, no fearless dignity, no glorious manhood of mind, left among us. The holy heritage of our fathers' virtues will be trodden under foot, by their unworthy children. They feared not to stand up against kings and nobles, and parliament and people. Better did they account it, that their lonely bark should sweep the wide sea in freedom-happier were they, when their sail swelled to the storm of winter, than to be slaves in palaces of ease. Sweeter to their ear was the music of the gale, that shrieked in their broken cordage, than the voice at home that said," submit, and you shall have rest." And when they reached this wild shore, and built their altar, and knelt upon the frozen snow and the flinty rock to worship, they built that altar to freedom, to individual