upon him, he knew full well there would be no hope of escape. There is no animal known to natural history whose tenacity of life is greater than that of the grizzly bear; well-authenticated instances being on record of their living hours after their bodies were riddled like a target with balls, and of their fiercely pursuing the hunters for great distances, and maintaining an equal race, although "carrying weight" in the shape of half a pouch of bullets lodged in their lungs. Jack, perhaps, knew nothing of this; but he had heard the Indians say that it was not altogether safe to come near to a grizzly bear until his head | had been off half an hour, and if this was a strong figure of speech, he knew it was not without its meaning. "It takes six shots to kill a grizzler," | was another of the wood-craft maxims which he had learned, and he examined his ammunition to make sure that he had enough to carry on the war after so strong a reinforcement of the enemy. Jack, indeed, pondered for some minutes, and began to feel the most serious misgivings. Once more he felt a perfect willingness to abandon the adventure and go home, if he thought that he would be permitted to do so; but he knew that his retreat would be the signal for instant pursuit, and fearful indeed would be his peril with two such determined enemies upon his track, while seven long miles of desert remained to be traversed, and night, which would impede his progress, without diminishing that of his pursuers, was rapidly advancing upon him. If he should shoot and dislodge one of the animals, he had little hope that either the shot or the fall would fully disable him, and he would be compelled to engage the desperate beast with no weapon but a knife, and with the imminent danger of the other monster's descent. "It's a bad job, anyhow," he said, "and I jest wish I was clear of it; but I am in the worst kind of a fix; for I daren't fight,—and, hang it, I daren't run either." Again he pondered, and looked curiously up at the bears, and the bears looked down at him,all four of them, the cubs licking their mouths, and seeming to inquire how soon he was to be parcelled out to them. "Why, it's horrible, this here is!" exclaimed Jack, whose courage seemed to have quite vanished; “nobody will ever know what has become of me. If I only had a piece of paper now, I might write and pin it up to a tree, before beginning the battle, 'Eaten up by four grizzly bears on this spot; and then, if the worst come to the worst, they'd know where I was;" and he felt a decided satisfaction in thinking that he could say there were four of the enemy, the disgrace was so much less;-for, he could not rid himself of the idea of the disgrace that would attend his defeat, which he was sure he should continue to feel, down to the very last mouthful of himself that remained unswallowed. "What shall we do, Plumper!" he continued; "can't you think of something? Oh yes, Plumper has it after all! oh yes, of course, that's it! Why where on earth have my wits been wool-gathering all this time! I really believe that long race and fall has bewildered me like. Yes, I see. Plumper points right up here into this other oak. In course, that's the place; there we'll pick them off at our leisure, and if they do try to come down one tree, and up the other, why we'll try the breech of the gun on their noses, as they climb up-so, come along, Plumper." Jack lashed his weapon to his side, and climbed the same tree which he had before ascended, the bears, meanwhile, watching his movements, evidently with much interest. He gained a secure landing upon the first large bough, and there chucklingly made his preparations for an attack The distance between the trees was not more than fifty feet, and with the hunter's remarkable accuracy of aim, he felt certain that he could now bring the war to a speedy close; for whatever might be the bear's tenacity of life, he knew there were two vulnerable places in all animals, where a wound must be speedily mortal,-the heart and the brain. The precise locality of the first organ, unfortunately, he did not know, and he resolved to seek an entrance for his leaden missile into the very citadel of life through the eye. It was a small mark, the eye of the grizzly bear being peculiarly diminutive, and if it was missed, the ball would not improbably fail to penetrate the bony socket; but Jack rejoiced in difficult feats, and imploring Plumper to be cautious, he waited only for a favourable position of the head of either of the beasts to admit of the required aim. This they did not seem, for some time disposed to accord. They looked down wards, and upwards, and at each other, but not at Jack, in whose movements, since he had be come stationary, they seemed to have ceased to interest themselves. In vain the hunter shouted and yelled to attract their attention; they only slightly growled, but did not look around. Provoked by the unaccommodating spirit which they manifested, Jack sneeringly mimicked their growl, and was astonished to perceive that the bears both immediately turned and faced him, apparently looking for their fellow-beasts. "Ah, now we have you!" he said, and said no more, for it was Plumper's turn to speak. The gun was quickly levelled,-a moment's sight was taken,-a click,-a flash,—a sharp detonation ensued, and one of the monsters descended, like a falling rock, to the earth, striking the ground with great force, and giving no further sign of life than if his body had never been animated by the vital spark. Jack patted his gun approvingly on the barrel, and proceeded hastily to reload it; but, meanwhile, the enemy's camp was in the utmost confusion. The mate of the slain beast, after uttering a terrific growl, began hastily to descend the oak, followed by her cubs, and before the hunter was again prepared to fire, she was at the side of her fallen companion, licking its body, seeming to seek to assist it to rise, and at intervals looking vengefully up towards Jack, and repeating her dismal notes. "Poor critter!" said Jack, as seizing one of those opportunities when the head of the beast was raised toward him, he again brought Plumper to bear, and sent forth the hustling lead. The monster fell, struggling, upon the very carcass of its mate, and Jack, uttering a loud shout of victory, rapidly descended the tree. He took the precaution, however, of planting another bullet in the head of the dying beast before venturing to approach it; and then he hastened to place the question of remaining vitality beyond further doubt by severing the jugular veins of both ani mals with his hunting-knife. While he was en gaged in this operation, the two cubs, with precocious ferocity, made a joint assault upon him; and Jack, stepping backward from them, gave way to a fit of ungovernable laughter. "I swow this is too bad!" he said, kicking his assailants alternately off; "this is what I call an insult. I wonder what will come arter me next if these kittens are a goin' to chase me; but it all comes of my running from the old one." So saying, he despatched one with his knife, and was about to kill the other also, when a feeling of compassion came across him, and he forbore, resolving to take it home alive. He caught it with little difficulty, tied its legs with some cord with which he was provided, and laid it on the ground, and then proceeded to decapitate the alain animals, and string the shaggy trophies together, for the purpose of taking them home. "I shall have the heads of the family, any way!" he said, as, slinging them over his shoulder, and coolly hanging the struggling cub across his arm by the cord that bound its feet, he turned to depart. He paused a moment, however, to look at the big black trunks of the beasts, looming up in the twilight, and he remembered, with a smile, that the Indians invariably apologize to these animals for killing them, calling them their grandparents, and bestowing many marks of affection upon them, before cutting them up for use. Good-by," he said, "I beg your pardon for the liberty I've taken, and if it's all the same to you, I'll come around this way to-morrow and get your hides. I'll be blamed if you're my grandfather, though, old Snarler; for he never would have chased me like that, and tried to eat me up; that warn't his way, at all; besides, he's living yet down in old Chautauque; so good-by, we part friends, I hope ?" The hunter reached his home in safety, where he was heartily welcomed by his anxious family, whom he entertained, until a late hour, with the particulars of what he called his "skrimmage with the varmints." The young bear, of which he designed to make a domestic pet, was released from its cords, and began to show its attachment to the family by making some unequivocal advances towards an infant Havens in the cradle; but after a few heavy cuffs on the head, it was persuaded to desist and to take up with a more moderate meal of vegetables and milk. Being confined to this kind of diet, its manners soon improved, it became docile and playful, and "Little Grizzle," as it was called, was soon a general favourite. It was the delight of the children; but was more particularly attached to Jack, whom it followed everywhere, like a dog, and with whom it was more in favour, because its presence afforded him a thousand opportunities of relating his wonderful adventure. These narrations were usually given with all the details of thought and soliloquy of the hunter during the several stages of his peril, and thus it comes that they have been so accurately transcribed for the benefit of the reader. It may be satisfactory, in conclusion, to say that under the joint influences of industry and skill, and aided by the advancing state of the country, Jack's fortunes soon greatly improved. He paid for his land, snapped his fingers at the government, built a commodious house, and found himself, after the lapse of a few years, in the centre of quite a populous settlement, in which he was THE rays were mild, shed by the rising sun, Ere clouds were seen to gather there. One slender plant, firm-rooted to a rock, The storm had ceased; the sun was bright again; Bloomed fresh beside the uptorn trees. Such, FRANCES, be your lot and fate in life; Tall heights to reach-God's power to mock. Then shall your evening sun of life shine bright, Your mind still blooming to the last, Your heart unwrung by care, unscathed by blight Of ruined hopes or anguish past. A CALIFORNIA FOR WOMEN; BETTER THAN SILVER AND GOLD. BY FREDRIKA BREMER. BETTER than silver and gold is the talent that not only procures the gold, but at the same time beautifies the mind! Better than silver and gold is the talent that can assure a useful and happy life! That, no gold can. Better than silver and gold-mines is the wealth of the soul in its own resources, in the possession of self-acquired worth and power! We would make everybody feel the hope and joy we ourselves feel in the prospects opening in these days, by the Schools of Design for women, that are rising in several countries of Europe, and, at present, also in the United States of America, where one is already flourishing in Philadelphia,† and one just beginning in Boston, under the guidance of a man, as distinguished in love of his art, as in love for human improvement, Mr. W. T. Whitaker. body feel as we do, how, by the direction of these Schools to both the beautiful and the more strictly We would make every * Addressed to a young lady as a memento at parting. Under the direction of Mrs. Hill. useful in the art of drawing, ways are opened where genius may exert its wings, and patient labour get noble employment and a good living; where every capacity may be put to advantage. | We would make everybody see as we see, how the peculiar gifts of Nature to woman, the gift of taste, the love of beauty and grace, may here come out in art, to beautify life, spreading, by and by, even to the lowest ranks in society; how houses and homes, walls, carpets, furniture, articles of dress and adornment, may become more and more adapted to ideas of beauty and harmony; more and more made to call them up in the minds of men, and so the house becomes a tongue for the mind, as well as a home for the body. And it is well known that one of the chief entrances to the sanctuary of the Most Holy, is by the door called "the beautiful!" But the benefit to society at large, that will result from this development of woman's life, will bear still more powerfully on the individuals called to effect it. To thousands of women it will open a new life. Many a mind that has hitherto been chained down to the needle, without any prospect-especially in the old countries -but to "Work, work, work, In poverty, hunger, and dirt;"* many a genial woman that has no resource but to turn to teaching, without the love of teaching, may here, in the realms of art, find at once a delightful labour and a field for intellectual developments, a new opening of light and life. The lively young girl, the thoughtful woman, the lonely widow, may go out in the fields, observe the flowers, the graceful curves of the trees and their branches, the happy accidents in nature, in the glory of the elements, in lights and shadows, in plants and animals, in grasses and butterflies, take them up in her mind and home to her house, and there weave them in graceful patterns for the wall or the floor, for vases and baskets, and other branches of art or industry. And if it should be asked, "Will this work always prove so profitable as it is agreeable?" We are glad to refer not only to our own sanguine expectations, but to the well-informed editor of one of the most popular American magazines, and answer with his words: "All the women in the United States that can be spared for this employment, will find work enough!" If woman is gifted by nature with a peculiar sense for her beauties, certainly it is not that she should enjoy it in selfishness, and use it only for her own adornment, but rather as a priestess of the goddess, to bring her gifts and oracles out among men. American women have in the realm of nature a field more vast than any other women on earth. From the Atlantic to the Pacific, from the Arctic zone to the tropics, what a variety of climates, of products of the soil, of plants and animals; what richness in forms, characters, colours, embraced by the United States! In that variety, is opened an unbounded field to American art and inventions. And we expect to see the pine and the elm of the North, the palmetto and the live-oak of the South, the stately corn, the richly-coloured leaves, the numberless See Thomas Hood's "Song of the Shirt." vines, flowers, and fruits of the different States, and THE VINE running through them all, from Minnesota to Louisiana, from New Hampshire to Florida, enlacing them, as it were, all in one bond of love and beauty, reminding at once of the name given to the land by the Scandinavian sea-kings, the good old name, Vine-land,—and of the promise of the Scripture for the promised land, that there, "Every man shall sit under his own vine tree;" we expect to see the oriole and the hum ming-bird, the lizard and the striped squirrel, the deer and the buffalo,-and all the peculiar gifts of the great goddess to this great land,-by the ingenious hand of woman, woven in the web of our everyday life, to make it more noble and beautiful; and so the American School of Design become the all-comprising, the truly cosmopolitan school in that delightful art. In every way and every sense we find the Schools of Design for women, a most cheering sign of the times,-of new and better times,--and cannot help to acknowledge with joy, the warm interest with which we have seen them taken up by many men. When we congratulate the women of America, to the field that is opening to them, we cannot but congratulate ourselves to havə witnessed the rising day; to have seen with our own eyes the new-found California for women,better than silver and gold! "HAIL AND FAREWELL !" THUS, "Come" and "Gone," what strange ex tremes These syllables express! The last is eloquent of woe— Hail and farewell! 'tis smiles and tears The rosebud and the worm: BURIAL OF DE SOTO. BY REYNELL COATES, M.D. HISTORY presents us with no more valuable lesson than that which teaches us the inevitable punishment inflicted upon those who would extend an empire by conquest over the bodies or minds of men, for conquest's sake. Where, in the records of time, do we find a single example of permanent authority established merely by political conquest, or by the forcible propagation of religious doctrine? Egypt, the oldest of empires-the first in the cultivation of philosophy and science-the mother of arts in other lands-concealed the lights of learning under a mantle of mysticism, for the purpose of strengthening and perpetuating her political power. She sank-and from this error -by steady gradations, from the condition of the world's great teacher, to a depth of popular ignorance and slavery—a madness of priestly oppression-an imbecility of unopposed despotism, emasculated by luxury, which, when the storm of time passed over her, left all her glory prostrate beneath the heel of an originally rude and inferior people, whose civilization was born under the reflection of a reflection from her own once glowing altars. The tempest left no living root within the soil, from which some future scion might arise. The wings that shadowed the land were swept away; and the half-humanized remnant of her population-ruler and ruled-now live, the slaves of slaves. Assyria, Medea, Babylon the Great-what are their records? Pictures of rude autocracies, alternately devouring and devoured,-supremacies of brute will, disgraceful to the very name of government, conducted upon principles that make a mockery of polity. And where are their records? Ages ago, Time drove his chariot wheel athwart tablet and column, and spat upon their dust! Greece-parent of many nations, and grandparent of Rome-lives still in the minds and hearts of men. Her political power indeed is broken; it fell, at length, before the parricidal hand of all-conquering Rome, and justly fell; its strength eroded by its own inherent vices, Spartan duplicity and cruelty, and Athenian turbulence, that slowly unmanned the brave. Moslem feet trampled her prostrate body, and she is dead; for she who now looks over the Ægean is not Greece-a Russian tributary may not claim the name-but beautiful is the monument upon her tomb: "Here lieth the mother of taste-the sister of refinement-the goddess of all arts." And whence was this exemption from the common fate of all the older empires-to be forgotten, or remembered only with a curse? Was it because she was republican? Old Rome, too, was republican; but she was smitten with the love of conquest-not for gold, though she won it-not for propagandism, though in her latter days she persecuted faiths. She fought for glory and extended power for universal dominion; she was smitten with the certaminis gaudium, and she fell, unwept. Greece owes the wreaths that hang around her tomb to her freedom from sinister ambition. She planted colonies; she made them free; she conquered territories, and built cities to adorn and to enlighten them, but asked not the sceptre of the conquered land. Modern Rome, too, thirsts for universal dominion, but it is over the souls and intellects of men that she would rule. With her, political dominion is a means, not end; at least so says her code of polity. Yet, for a thousand years, she was a conqueror a conqueror of minds. Battle swept over her again and again;-her walls were broken down, her relics of past grandeur scattered or crumbled into dust, yet still she conquered; for, while the hand reft the crown, the lips sought the toe, and the victim flung invisible chains around the victor in his hour of triumph. But where is she now? Dependent for her very existence on the will of her former slaves-protected from the daggers of her own household by the bayonets of those whose necks were once beneath her foot, and once again, extinguished all her altars, and held their saturnalian revels in her holy places. The Queen of the Seven Hills lives now on sufferance, in all the trembling imbecility of age, with the imperial purple on her skeleton shoulders, and bowed to only in reverence for age and charity for weakness. But England-surely England has been for centuries a conqueror; yet she stands firm. "The circling sun sets not on her dominions," remarks some caviller, who worships proverbs, and believing in that silly saying, "the voice of all nations is truth," still deems that conquest and extent of dominion are the true proofs of national greatness. Yes: England still stands, though her strongest branch was torn away, when the bolt of heaven struck off half the crown that overtopped the spire of her first church in the keystone province of her Western empire.* Though, limb by limb is withering, as when the locust scathes the forest with its poisonous eggs; though the worm is busy on the spray, the old trunk seems still in vigour. "Seems," it may be but he who from externals can judge what lies within, already sees the dry-rot in the stem, and the wire-worm at the root of England's glory. Why has she stood so long? Because she fought not for conquest, but for gain; her worship was not for heroism, but for gold. Though she oppressed-though she exacted--though she even persecuted for religion's sake at home, she riveted no chains either upon body or mind, in her thousand colonies. She was content to rob the purses of her victims by taxation; but the Puritan still worshipped in safety in New England, and the Quaker in Pennsylvania; Catholicism maintained its altars in Ireland, and the Hindoo widow still burned upon the pile. She sought the means, at least, of popular happiness-though, perhaps, neglecting the proper study of their application (traders are rarely students of deep principles); she took the wealth of subjugated provinces, but gave them in return the common law-that chrysalis, from which the butterfly of freedom sooner or later in all climes must, in due time, emerge. This was her mission; and by so much as avarice is less criminal than heroism-by so much as indifference is preferable to bigotry-by so much has the dominance of England in the world's history been more durable than that of rival nations. Doomed to decay, like all things human, she has been so far blessed in her negative virtues that bloody revolutions have been seldom witnessed on her past, and her future promises a gradual transition into novel forms of government, more fitted for the happiness of all. Such are the thoughts that force themselves upon us in looking at the illustration of the Burial of De Soto which graces this number; and why are they suggested? Let us answer. No man ever landed on a foreign shore with nobler chances for rendering himself the father of an empire, than did Hernandez de Soto, in 1539, with more than thirteen hundred men, the flower of chivalry, and the most disciplined troops of Spain,-then, the personification of military glory among the nations of the earth, and in the zenith of her fame. What was there wanting? What checked the brilliant after-consequences of this noble armament? No means, no appliances of warfare were neglected; brave and then numerous as the forest warriors were, here were no During the American Revolution, the lightning struck off a portion of the gilt crown upon the conductor of Christ Church steeple, in Philadelphia. crushed, and unable to rise, though from his paralysed grasp each wandering adventurer has stolen a portion of his hoard, till he is bankrupt;-a tower built on a false foundation, fallen by its own weight, with the ivy and the lichen crumbling the shattered fragments, which shall shortly leave no record of that glory, once the idol of its builders-nought but a sad moral in history, and a dream of wild romance. united millions, with the energy of concentrated | beneath the weight of his accumulated goldpower, to oppose its course-no arts of civilization to aid the almost naked foe-no Montezuma wielding with absolute will the unmeasured resources of an empire,-no High Priest of the Sun claiming from heaven itself the right to rule. Before the thunder of its engines the ignorant savage quailed; and, but for the mad abuse of the pale strangers,-abuse that makes even the crushed worm to turn-that armament had found no other foe than nature. Was it the leader who fell short in contest with the elements, and brought to such "a lame and impotent conclusion" this mighty effort? He was brave-he was victorious, he conquered the forest and the deep morassand led his mail-clad warriors over wide rivers, through a wilderness of swamps, a labyrinth of lagoons, and stood before the wondering savage, almost a god! He stood upon the shores of that great artery, which bears to the broad sea the wealth of half a continent-the highway of a valley that now rears more men than war can sacrifice, more food than armies can exhaust ;why, then, the bootless conclusion? Had he but listened to the sounds that swept that boundless solitude, he had heard in the loud breath of the free wind, and the loud dash of the free waves, the voice, the deep prophetic voice of freedom, telling of empires yet to be-telling of glories which should flush the cheek of History with wild emotion, when she should sing a pæan to the Highest, and all the multitude of humankind should clap their hands! Alas! had he so done, he might have been the father of a people, but he preferred to be the slave of a king. He might have founded a nation of men, but he clung to the baubles of childhood! "Saint Jago for Spain," was still the cry that woke the forest echoes, and the forest echoes shouted in wild derision, "Saint Jago for Spain!" till, fading away in the near distance, the sound fell like a dream upon the ear of the sleeping spirit of the mighty West. The giant turned and slept again! And what was Spain? A vast monument of the past a representative of the infancy of humanity, when the will of the child must be subject to power, because reason is yet undeveloped-when opinion must be subject to authority, because the twilight of the mind is yet too dim to know the substance from the shadow! Hence was her system absolute. Childlike, she strove to rule as she had been ruled. To her, the differences stamped by the Creator on climates -people-nature-were as nought. Her dogmas of the religion of peace must be promulgated at the point of the bayonet! Her system of government, fit or unfit, must be enforced wherever her footstep fell. The world must be one Spain! And why? Was it because this would promote the prosperity of the conquered? Was it because it would increase her own prosperity, by commerce, and, by giving added dignity to the species, react upon her own? Not so! But it would pour into her lap the wealth of slaughtered thousands the gold of unknown regions. It would surround the crown of Spain with a halo of glory, the brighter for the moral darkness-the mental and bodily slavery-to which she would reduce whatever fell beneath the blighting shadow of her banner! And what is Spain? An old man, crushed A few gay cavaliers of the Elizabethan age were drawn by love of adventure to the shores of Virginia. They wanted food, they wanted wives, and, like sensible men, they reared tobacco to obtain them. A few burning spirits, rendered hard by persecution, and capable of endurance by suffering, sought, in a single fragile vessel, our northern coasts, to build themselves a home. A staid old man, with a quaint garb, and quainter speech, who abhorred war, and censured nothing but injustice, with his few peaceful followers, wanted room to worship, and settled in our midst. From these arose-what? An empire before which Old Rome would quail, so vast is its extension-an empire before which New Rome now quails, so free are its opinions. The pioneer of nations "leads on, by its unique example, the progress of the species, because she leaves men free, in body and in spirit, to follow the bias to which the God of all things has inclined them. From the tropic to the pole, all people hail her banner, and all tyrants tremble at her voice. Wherever that standard floats, there man stands forth in his dignity, the monarch of himself. Wherever that voice is heard, there the slave grapples with his chains, and is, or will be free!" Не De Soto landed, in all the pomp of war, from his fleet of eleven sail, with the best blood of Spain and the ministers of a despotic faith around him, opposing to the rude war-club, the lightning and the thunder-to the stone-tipped Indian arrow, the impenetrable corslet of steel. crossed the Mississippi, blind to the boundless value of that one discovery, only to die on the banks of the blood-tinted river, whose hue seemed ominous of the fate of the few survivors, as it was symbolic of his own career. They buried him temporarily within their camp, and held a tourney over the grave, lest the savage should discover the loss of the great captain, and cut off their retreat to the Father of Waters. Slowly and sadly they then bore him to the mighty flood, and midway in the stream. There was a plunge!—and the dark wave rolls over him for ever. So may the tide of time roll over the very memory of the heroic age-the age of force-the period of childhood and of despotism! And may man soon learn how temporary is the hold which conquest gives-how the sword withers the hand that wields it-while from the simple and pure arts of peace arise true strength and lasting power. The nation founded by the Pilgrims and Quakers now holds the wand of destiny;-the nation that sent forth Cortez, Pizarro, and De Soto, lies on the shore of time, a stranded wreck May the former for ever escape the curses which have destroyed the latter, and made her a byword among nations-the thirst of conquest and the madness of bigotry. * Red River, by the mouth of which De Soto died, of the endemic fever. |