thing too cumbrous or expensive for them to remove, retaining only a few horses, a servant or two, and such implements of husbandry and other articles as may be necessary on their journey, or useful when they arrive at the spot of their choice.

I think I see them at this moment harnessing their horses, and attaching them to their wagons, which are already filled with bedding, provisions, and the younger children; while on their outsides are fastened spinning-wheels and looms; and a bucket filled with tar and tallow, swings between the hind wheels. Several axes are secured to the bolster, and the feeding trough of the horses contains pots, kettles, and pans. 'The servant now become a driver, rides the near saddled horse, the wife is mounted on another, the worthy husband shoulders his gun, and his sons, clad in plain substantial homespun, drive the cattle ahead, and lead the procession, followed by the hounds and other dogs. Their day's journey is short and not agreeable:-the cattle, stubborn or wild, frequently leave the road for the woods, giving the travellers much trouble; the harness of the horses here and there gives away, and needs immediate repair; a basket, which has accidentally dropped, must be gone after, for nothing that they have can be spared; the roads are bad, and now and then all from upsetting. Yet, by sunset, they have proceeded perhaps twenty miles. Rather fatigued, all assemble round the fire which has been lighted, supper is prepared, and a camp being erected, there they pass the night.

THE SQUATTERS OF THE MISSISSIPPI. ALTHOUGH every European traveller who has glided down the Mississippi, at the rate of ten miles an hour, has told his tale of the squatters, yet none has given any other account of them than that they are "a sallow, sickly-looking sort of miserable beings," living in swamps, and subsisting on pig-nuts, Indian corn, and bear's-flesh. It is obvious, however, that none but a person acquainted with their history, manners and condition, can give any real in-hands are called to push on the wagon, or prevent it formation respecting them..

The individuals who become squatters, choose that sort of life of their own free will. They mostly remove from other parts of the United States, after finding that land has become too high in price; and they are persons who, having a family of strong and hardy children, are anxious to enable them to provide for themselves. They have heard from good authorities, that the country extending along the great streams of the West, is, of all parts of the Union the richest, in its soil, the growth of its timber, and the abundance of its game; that, besides, the Mississippi is the great road to and from all the markets in the world; and that every vessel borne by its waters, affords to settlers some chance of selling their commodities, or of exchanging them for others. To these recommendations is added another, of even greater weight with persons of the above denomination, namely, the prospect of being able to settle on land, and perhaps to hold it for a number of years, without purchase, rent, or tax, of any kind. How many thousands of individuals in all parts of the globe e would gladly try their fortune with such prospects, I leave to you, reader, to determine.

Days and weeks, nay, months, of unremitting toil pass, before they gain the end of their journey. They have crossed both the Carolinas, Georgia, and Alabama. They have been travelling from the beginning of May, to that of September, and with heavy hearts they traverse the state of Mississippi. But now, arrived on the banks of the broad stream, they gaze in amazement on the dark deep woods around them. Boats of various kinds they see gliding downward with the current, while others slowly ascend against it. A few inquiries are made at the nearest dwelling, and assisted by the inhabitants with their boats and canoes, they at once cross the Mississippi, and select their place of habitation.

The exhalations arising from the swamps and morasses around them, have a powerful effect on these new settlers, but all are intent on preparing for the winter. A small patch of ground is cleared by the axe and the fire, a temporary cabin is erected, As I am not disposed too highly to colour the to each of the cattle is attached a jingling-bell before picture which I am about to submit to your in- it is let loose into the neighbouring canebrake, and spection, instead of pitching on individuals who the horses remain about the house, where they find have removed from our Eastern boundaries, and sufficient food at that season. The first tradingof whom certainly there are a good number, I shall boat that stops at their landing, enables them to prointroduce to you the members of a family from Vir-vide themselves with some flour, fish-hooks, and amginia, first giving you an idea of their condition in that country, previous to their migration to the West. The land which they and their ancestors have possessed for a hundred years, having been constantly forced to produce crops of one kind or other, is now completely worn out. It exhibits only a superficial layer of red clay, cut up by deep ravines, through which much of the soil has been conveyed to some more fortunate neighbour, residing in a yet rich and beautiful valley. The strenuous efforts to render it productive have failed. They dispose of every

munition, as well as other commodities. The looms are mounted, the spinning-wheels soon furnish some yarn, and in a few weeks the family throw off their ragged clothes, and array themselves in suits adapted to the climate. The father and sons, meanwhile, have sown turnips and other vegetables; and from some Kentucky flat-boat, a supply of live poultry has been procured.

October tinges the leaves of the forest, the morning dews are heavy, the days hot, the nights chill, and the unacclimated family in a few days are al

tacked with ague. The lingering disease almost prostrates their whole faculties, and one seeing them at such a period might well call them sallow and sickly. Fortunately the unhealthy season soon passes over, and the hoar-frosts make their appearance. Gradually each individual recovers strength. The largest ash trees are felled; their trunks are cut, split, and corded in front of the building; a large fire is lighted under night on the edge of the water, and soon a steamer calls to purchase the wood, and thus add to their comforts during the winter.

This first-fruit of their industry imparts new courage to them; their exertions multiply, and when spring returns, the place has a cheerful look. Venison, bear's-flesh, wild-turkeys, ducks, and geese, with now and then some fish, have served to keep up their strength, and now their enlarged field is planted with corn, potatoes, and pumpions. Their stock of cattle, too, has augmented; the steamer, which now stops there as if by preference, buys a calf or a pig, together with the whole of their wood. Their store of provisions is renewed, and brighter rays of hope enliven their spirits.

moment, the squatters are richly repaid for all their labours.

Every successive year has increased their savings. They now possess a large stock of horses, cows, and hogs, with abundance of provisions, and domestick comforts of every kind. The daughters have been married to the sons of neighbouring squatters, and have gained sisters to themselves by the marriage of their brothers. The government secures to the family the lands, on which, twenty years before, they settled in poverty and sickness. Larger buildings are erected on piles, secure from the inundations; where a single cabin once stood, a neat little village is now to be seen; warehouses, stores and workshops, increase the importance of the place. The squatters live respected, and in due time die regretted, by all who knew them.

Thus are the vast frontiers of our country peopled, and thus does cultivation, year after year, extend over the western wilds. Time will no doubt be, when the great valley of the Mississippi, still covered with primeval forests, interspersed with swamps, will smile with cornfields and orchards, while crowded cities will rise at intervals along its banks, and enlightened nations will rejoice in the bounties of Providence.

THE CANARY BIRD.

Audubon.

Who is he of the settlers on the Mississippi that cannot realize some profit? Truly none who is industrious. When the autumnal months return, all are better prepared to encounter the ague, which then prevails. Substantial food, suitable clothing, and abundant fringe, repel its attacks; and before another twelvemonth has elapsed, the family is naturalized. THE Canary bird is remarkable for its tractability The sons by this time have discovered a swamp and intelligence, as an instance of which the followcovered with excellent timber, and as they have ing anecdote may be given :-A bird-catcher in seen many great rafts of saw-logs, bound for the Prussia, who had rendered himself famous for edumills of New Orleans, floating past their dwelling, cating and calling forth the talents of the feathered they resolve to try the success of a little enterprise. tribe, had a Canary bird, which was introduced by Their industry and prudence have already enhanced the owner to a large party at Cleves, to amuse them their credit. A few cross-saws are purchased, and with his wonderful feats. The Canary being prosome broad-wheeled "carry-logs" are made by duced, the owner harangued him in the following themselves. Log after log is hauled to the bank of manner, placing him upon his forefinger :-" Bijou, the river, and in a short time their first raft is made (jewel,) you are now in the presence of persons of on the shore and loaded with cord-wood. When great sagacity and honour; take heed, therefore, that the next freshet sets it afloat, it is secured by long you do not deceive the expectations they have congrape-vines or cables, until the proper time being ar-ceived of you from the world's report. You have rived, the husband and sons embark on it, and float down the mighty stream.

got laurels; beware of their withering; in a word, deport yourself like the bijou of Canary birds, as you After encountering many difficulties, they arrive in certainly are." All this time the bird seemed to safety at New Orleans where they dispose of their listen, and indeed placed himself in the true attitude stock, the money obtained for which, may be said to of attention. He sloped his head to the ear of the be all profit; supply themselves with such articles man, and distinctly nodded twice, when his master as may add to their convenience or comfort, and with had left off speaking; and if ever nods were intellilight hearts, procure a passage on the upper-deck of gible and promissory, these were of that nature. a steamer, at a very cheap rate, on account of the "That's good," said the master, pulling off his hat to benefit of their labour in taking in wood or otherwise. the bird. "Now let us see if you are a Canary of And now the vessel approaches their home. See honour? Give us a tune." The Canary sang. the joyous mother and daughters as they stand on "Pshaw! that's too harsh; 'tis the note of a raven the bank! A store of vegetables lies around them, a with a hoarseness upon him-something pathetick." large tub of fresh milk is at their feet, and in their The Canary whistled as if his little throat was hands are plates filled with rolls of butter. As the changed to a lute. "Faster," says the man; steamer stops, three broad straw-hats are waved "slower-very well. What the plague is this little from its upper-deck; and soon, husband and wife, foot about, and this little head? No wonder you are brothers and sisters, are in each other's embrace. out, Mr. Bijou, when you forget your time. That's The boat carries off the provisions, for which value a jewel; Bravo! bravo! my little man." All that he has been left, and as the captain issues his orders was ordered, or reminded of, did he to admiration. for putting on the steam, the happy family enter their His head and foot beat time, humoured the variations humble dwelling. The husband gives his bag of both of tone and movement; and the sound was a dollars to the wife, while the sons present some just echo to the sense, according to the strictest laws token of affection to their sisters. Surely, at such a of poetical, and (as ought to be) of musical compo

air.

66

BIOGRAPHY

BENJAMIN WEST.-Born 1738-Died 1820.

sition. "Bravo! bravo!" re-echoed from all parts of the room. The musicians declared the Canary was a greater master of musick than any of their band. And do you not show your sense of this civility, sir?" cried the bird-catcher with an angry BENJAMIN WEST, one of the most distinguished The Canary bowed most respectfully, to the artistis America has yet produced, was born near great delight of the company. His next achieve- Springfield, Penn., Oct. 10th, 1738. His first essay ment was going through the martial exercises with in the arts was made when he was seven years old; a straw gun; after which, My poor Bijou," said for being left in charge of a sleeping child, he atthe owner, "thou hast had hard work, and must be tempted to represent its features on paper, with pen a little weary a few performances more, and thou and ink. His success was such as to call forth the shalt repose. Show the ladies how to make a courte- admiration of his parents. Soon after this he prosy." The bird here crossed his taper legs, and cured from some Indians the red and yellow earths sunk and rose with an easy grace that would have used by them for decorating their persons; and these put half our subscription-assembly belles to the blush. with blue from his mother's pad of indigo, he was "That's my fine bird! and now a bow, head and enabled to give the colours of the objects pictured. foot corresponding." Here the striplings for ten The first money received by young West for his miles round New York might have blushed also. "Let labours as an artist, was from Mr. Wayne, for drawus finish with a hornpipe, my brave little fellow;ings on poplar boards; and Dr. Morris made him a that's it, keep it up, keep it up." The activity, present of a "few dollars to buy paints with." His glee, spirit, and accuracy, with which this last order first effort at portrait-painting was at Lancaster. A was obeyed, wound up the applause (in which all gunsmith, named Henry, employed him to paint the the musicians joined, as well with their instruments death of Socrates, and loaned him the book to make as their clappings) to the highest pitch of admiration. him acquainted with the event. A workman stood Bijou himself seemed to feel the sacred thirst of as a model for one of the figures. This led to the fame, and shook his little plumes, and carolled an study of the human form, and showed the youth the Io pean, that sounded like the conscious notes of importance of anatomy as connected with the arts of victory. "Thou hast done all my biddings bravely," design. said the master, caressing his feathered servant; now then take a nap, while I take thy place.' Hereupon the Canary went into a counterfeit slumber, so like the effect of Morpheus, first shutting one eye, then the other, then nodding, then dropping so much on one side that the hands of several of the company were stretched out to save him from falling; and just as their hands approached his feathers, suddenly recovering, and dropping as much on the other. At length, sleep seemed to fix him in a steady posture; whereupon the owner took him from his finger, and laid him flat on the table, where the man assured us he would remain in a good sound sleep, while he himself had the honour to do his best to fill up the interval. Accordingly, after drinking a glass of wine, (in the progress of which he was interrupted by the Canary bird springing up suddenly to assert his right to a share, really putting his little bill into the glass, and then laying himself down to sleep again,) the owner called him a saucy fellow, and began to show off his own independent powers of entertainment, when a huge black cat, who had long been on the watch, sprang, unobserved, from a corner, upon the table, seized the poor Canary in its mouth, and rushed out of the window in spite of opposition. And though the room was deserted in an instant, it was a vain pursuit; the life of the poor bird was gone; and its mangled body was brought in by the unfortunate owner, under such dismay, and accompanied by such looks and language, as would have awakened pity in a misanthrope.

In 1756, West's mother died; and in that year our painter left his birthplace, and came to Philadelphia. Here he pursued his professional avocations as a portrait-painter for some time and with marked success. After a while he visited New York, where he remained eleven months, constantly occupied; at.this time a favourable opportunity occurring to visit Europe, West embarked for Italy, being then twenty-one years of age. At that time, the sight of an American artist, and that one too a quaker, was by no means common in Italy, and West was every where received with the attention to which his talents entitled him. At Rome, he met with the distinguished artist, Mengs, who treated him with great kindness, and even advised him as to the proper course to be pursued for his improvement. "See," said he, "and examine every thing deserving of your attention here, and after making a few drawings of about half a dozen of the best statues, go to Florence, and observe what has been done for art in the collections there. Then proceed to Bologna, and study the works of the Caracci; afterward visit Parma, and examine attentively the pictures of Corregio; and then go to Venice, and view the productions of Tintoretto, Titian, and Paul Veronese. When you have made this tour, come back to Rome, and paint an historical composition to be exhibited to the Roman publick.”

After a severe illness of eleven months, West proceeded on the tour recommended by Mengs, and returning to Rome, painted his pictures of Cimon and Iphigenia, and Angelica and Medona. These procured for him academical honours. He now deDisappointments in love, in those of deep and im-termined to visit England, and on the 20th of June, aginative feeling, are like the tornadoes that sweep 1763, we find him at London. The commencement over southern regions. The heavens may again of his career in that city, is thus stated by Mr. Lesassume their serenity, but the wide spread desolation remains; and even in after years as the traces of the whirlwind may be discovered amid the exuberant growth and profusion of flowers.

lie: "When Mr. West arrived in London, the general opinion was so unfavourable to modern art, that it was scarcely thought possible for an artist to paint an historical or fancy picture worthy to hang up be

taste.

[Benjamin West.J

side the old masters. Hogarth had produced his would it not make a fine picture?' It is a magnifi matchless pictures in vain. The connoisseur who cent subject,' said the painter. Then,' replied the would have ventured to place the inimitable scenes king, 'you shall paint it for me.' He turned with a of the "Marriage a la mode," on his walls, (I mean smile to the queen, and said, 'The archbishop made the pictures, the prints were in great request,) would one of his sons read Tacitus to Mr. West, but I will have hazarded most fearfully his reputation for read Livy to him myself-that part where he deThis prejudice against living genius contin- scribes the departure of Regulus.' So saying, he ued until the arrival of West, and it must have re-read the passage very gracefully, and then repeated quired some courage in a young man at that time to his command that the picture should be painted." make his appearance in England, in the character The Regulus was successful, and was followed by of an historical painter. One of the first pictures, if the "Death of Wolfe," in which he substituted the not the very first he produced, was from the story of costume of the day for the classick dress. Mr. West Pylades and Orestes, (there is an admirable copy of now suggested to the king a series of pictures on it in this country, painted by Mr. Sully.) This picture attracted so much attention, that Mr. West's servant was employed from morning till night in opening the door to visiters, and the man received a considerable sum of money by showing it, while the master was obliged to content himself with empty praise. All admired, but no one dared to buy it. It was curious enough, however, that the reputation of this picture raised him into high favour as a por-hundred and five pounds. A work so varied, so extrait-painter.

the progress of revealed religion, which were ordered. He divided his subject "into four dispensations; the Antediluvian, the Patriarchal, the Mosaical, and the Prophetical. They contained in all thirty-six subjects, eighteen of which belonged to the Old Testament, the rest to the New. They were all sketched, and twenty-eight were executed, for which West received in all twenty-one thousand seven

tensive, and so noble in its nature, was never before undertaken by any painter."

West's talents thus becoming known, soon made him acquainted, among others, with the archbishop Another extensive series of historical pictures paintof York, for whom he painted his Agrippina. His ed by West, was drawn from the reign of Edward III.; success in the management of this subject, procured they were "1. Edward III. embracing the black his presentation to George III. "The king receiv- prince, after the battle of Cressy. 2. The Instaliaed West with easy frankness, assisted him to place tion and order of the Garter. 3. The black prince the Agrippina in a favourable light, removed the at- receiving the king of France and his son prisoners, tendants, and brought in the queen, to whom he pre- at Poictiers. 4. St. George vanquishing the Dragon. sented our quaker. He related to her majesty the 5. Queen Phillipa defeating David of Scotland, in history of the picture, and bade her notice the sim- the battle of Neville's cross. 6. Queen Phillipa plicity of the design and the beauty of the colouring. interceding with Edward for the Burgesses of There is another noble Roman subject,' observed Calais. 7. King Edward forcing the passage his majesty, 'the departure of Regulus from Rome-of the Somme. 8. King Edward crowning Sir VOL. I.-57