a boudoir. Did ill-natured people imitate the practice of the madman and gentleman I have mentioned, by putting their envious, malicious and revengeful thoughts upon paper, it would form a mirror that would serve the same purpose of pointing out and remedying the evil dispositions of the mind, that the boudoir in France serves, in discovering and remedying the defects in the attitudes and dress of the body.

To persons who are not ashamed and disgusted with the first sight of their malevolent effusions upon paper, the same advice may be given that Dr. Franklin gave to a gentleman, who read part of a humorous satire which he had written upon the person and character of a respectable cit izen of Philadelphia. After he had finished reading it, he asked the doctor what he thought of his publishing it. "Keep it by you," said the doctor, " for one year, and then ask me that question." The gentleman felt the force of this answer, went immediately to the printer who had composed the first page of it, took it from him, and consigned the whole manuscript to oblivion,

Appearance of the first Settlements of the Pilgrims.— MISS SEDGWICK.

THE first settlers followed the course of the Indians, and planted themselves on the borders of rivers, the nat ural gardens of the earth, where the soil is mellowed and enriched by the annual overflowing of the streams, and prepared by the unassisted processes of nature to yield to the indolent Indian his scanty supply of maize and other esculents. The wigwams which constituted the village,' or, to use the graphic aboriginal designation, the "smoke," of the natives, gave place to the clumsy, but more convenient dwellings of the pilgrims.

Where there are now contiguous rows of shops, filled with the merchandise of the East, the manufactures of Europe, the rival fabrics of our own country, and the fruits of the tropics; where now stand the stately hall of justice, the academy, the bank, churches, orthodox and heretic, and

all the symbols of a rich and populous community,—were, at the early period of our history, a few log-houses planted around a fort, defended by a slight embankment and palisade.

The mansions of the proprietors were rather more spacious and artificial than those of their more humble associates, and were built on the well known model of the modest dwelling-house illustrated by the birth of Milton-a form still abounding in the eastern parts of Massachusett, and presenting to the eye of a New Englander the familiar aspect of an awkward, friendly country cousin.

The first clearing was limited to the plain. The beau tiful hill, that is now the residence of the gentry, (for there yet lives such a class in the heart of our democratic community,) and is embellished with stately edifices and expensive pleasure-grounds, was then the border of a dense forest, and so richly fringed with the original growth of trees, that scarce a sunbeam had penetrated to the parent earth

Mr Fletcher was at first welcomed as an important acquisition to the infant establishment, but he soon proved that he purposed to take no part in its concerns, and, in spite of the remonstrances of the proprietors, he fixed his residence a mile from the village, deeming exposure to the incursions of the savages very slight, and the surveillance of an inquiring neighbourhood a certain evil. His domain extended from a gentle eminence, that commanded an extensive view of the bountiful Connecticut to the shore, where the river indented the meadow by one of those sweeping, graceful curves, by which it seems to delight to beautify the land it nourishes.

The border of the river was fringed with all the waterloving trees; but the broad meadows were quite cleared, excepting that a few elms and sycamores had been spared by the Indians, and consecrated by tradition, as the scene of revels or councils. The house of our pilgrim was a low-roofed, modest structure, containing ample accommodation for a patriarchal family; where children, dependents and servants were all to be sheltered under one rooftree. On one side, as we have described, lay an open and extensive plain; within view was the curling smoke from

the little cluster of houses about the fort-the habitation of civilized man; but all else was a savage, howling wil derness.

Never was a name more befitting the condition of a people, than "pilgrim" that of our forefathers. It should be redeemed from the Puritanical and ludicrous associations which have degraded it in most men's minds, and be hallowed by the sacrifices made by these voluntary exiles. -They were pilgrims, for they had resigned forever what the good hold most dear-their homes. Home can never be transferred; never repeated in the experience of an individual. The place consecrated by parental love, by the innocence and sports of childhood, by the first acquaintance with nature, by the linking of the heart to the visible cre. ation, is the only home. There, there is a living and breathing spirit infused into nature: every familiar object has a history-the trees have tongues, and the very air is vocal. There the vesture of decay doth not close in and control the noble functions of the soul. It sees, and hears, and enjoys, without the ministry of gross, material substance

Description of a Herd of Bisons.-COOPER.

"THERE come the buffaloes themselves, and a noble herd it is. I warrant me that Pawnee has a troop of his people in some of the hollows nigh by; and, as he has gone scampering after them, you are about to see a glorious chase. It will serve to keep the squatter and his brood under cover, and for ourselves there is little reason to fear. A Pawnee is not apt to be a malicious savage."

Every eye was now drawn to the striking spectacle that succeeded. Even the timid Inez hastened to the side of Middleton to gaze at the sight, and Paul summoned Ellen from her culinary labours, to become a witness of the lively scene.

Throughout the whole of these moving events which it has been our duty to record, the prairies had lain in all the majesty of perfect solitude. The heavens had been blackmigratory birds, it is true,

ened with the passage of the