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Such, indeed, was the spirit in which the negotiation was entered into, and the corresponding settlement conducted, that, for the space of more than seventy years, and so long indeed as the Quakers retained the chief power in the government, the peace and amity which had been thus solemnly promised and concluded, never was violated; and a large and most striking, though solitary example afforded, of the facility with which they who are really sincere and friendly in their own views, may live in harmony even with those who are supposed to be peculiarly fierce and faithless.

We cannot bring ourselves to wish that there were nothing but Quakers in the world, because we fear it would be insupportably dull; but when we consider what tremendous evils daily arise from the petulance and profligacy, the ambition and irritability, of sovereigns and ministers, we can. not help thinking, it would be the most efficacious of all reforms, to choose all those ruling personages out of that plain pacific, and sober-minded sect.


Visit to the falls of Missouri.– EDINBURGH Review. As Captains Lewis and Clarke approached the mountains, and had got considerably beyond the walls already described, at the meridian nearly of 110°, and the parallel of about 47° 20', the same almost as that of the station of the Mandans, there was a bifurcation of the river, which threw them into considerable doubt as to which was the true Missouri, and the course which it behooved them to pursue.

The northernmost possessed most strongly the characters of that river, and the men seemed all to en. tertain no doubt that it was the stream which they ought to follow.

The commanders of the expedition, however, did not decide, till after they had reconnoitred the country from the higher grounds, and then determined to follow the southern branch. On the eleventh of June, 1806, Capt. Lewis set out on foot with four men, in order to explore this river. They proceeded till the 13th, when, finding that the river bore considerably to the south, fearing that they were in an error, they changed their course, and proceeded across the plain.

In this direction Captain Lewis had gone about two miles, when his ears were saluted with the agreeable sound of a fall of water; and as he advanced, a spray, which seemed driven by the high southwest wind, rose above the plain like a colúmn of smoke, and vanished in an instant. Towards this point, he directed his steps; and the noise, increasing as he approached, soon became too tremendous to be mistaken for any thing but the great falls of the Missouri.

Having travelled seven miles after hearing the sound, he reached the falls about 12 o'clock. The hills, as he approached, were difficult of access', and about 200 feet high. Down these he hurried with impatience; and seating himself on some rocks under the centre of the falls, he enjoyed the sublime spectacle of this stupendous cataract, which, since the creation, had been lavishing its magnificence on the desert

These falls extend, in all, over a distance of nearly twelve miles; and the medium breadth of the river varies from 300 to 600 yards. The principal fall is near the lower extremity, and is upwards of 80 feet perpendicular. The river is here nearly 300 yards wide, with perpendicular cliffs on each side, not less than 100 feet high. For 90 or 100 yards from the left cliff, the water falls in one smooth, even sheet, over a precipice at least 80 feet high. The remaining part of the river precipitates itself also with great rapidity; but being received, as it falls, by irregular and projecting rocks, form a splendid prospect of white foam, 200 yards in length, and 80 in perpendicular elevation,

The spray is dissipated in a thousand shapes, flying up in high columns, and collecting into large masses, which the sun adorns with all the coloring of the rainbow.

The fall, just described, must be one of the most magnificent and picturesque that is any where to be found. It has often been disputed, whether a cataract, in which the water falls in one sheet, or one where it is dashed irregularly among the rocks, is the finer object. It was reserved for the Missouri to resolve this doubt, by exhibiting both at once in the greatest magnificence.

There is another cascade, of about 47 feet, higher up the river, and the last of all is 26 feet; but the succession of inferior falls, and of rapids of very great declivity, is as tonishingly great; so that, from the first to the last, the

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whole descent of the river is 384 feet.--"Just below the falls," says Captain Lewis, “is a little island in the river, well covered with timber. Here, on a cotton-wood tree, an eagle had fixed his nest, and seemed the undisputed mistress of a spot, to invade ich neither man nor beast could venture across the gulf that surrounds it; while it is farther secured by the mist that rises from the falls. This solitary bird has not escaped the observation of the Indians, who made the eagle's nest a part of their description of the falls which they gave us, and which proves now to be correct in almost every particular, except that they did not do justice to their height."

The river above the falls is quite unruffled and smooth, with numerous herds of buffaloes feeding on the plains around it. These plains open out on both sides, so that it is not improbable that they mark the bottom of an ancient lake, the outlet of which the river is still in the act of cutting down, and will require many ages to accomplish its work, or to reduce the whole to à moderate and uniform declivity. The eagle may then be dispossessed of her ancient and solitary domain.


On early rising.- HURDIS.
Rise with the lark, and with the lark to bed.
The breath of night's destructive to the hue
Of every flower that blows. Go to the field,
And ask the humble daisy why it sleeps,
Soon as the sun departs: Why close the eyes
Of blossoms infinite, ere the still moon
Her oriental veil puts off? Think why,
Nor let the sweetest blossom be exposed
That nature boasts, to night's unkindly damp.

it droop, and all its freshness lose,
Compelled to taste the rank and poisonous steam
Of midnight theatre, and morning ball.
Give to repose the solemn hour she claims ;
And, from the forehead of the morning, steal
The sweet occasion. O! there is a charm
That morning has, that gives the brow of age
A smack of youth, and makes the lip of youth



Breathe per'fumes exquisite. Expect it not,
Ye who till noon upon a dówn-bed lie,
Indulging feverish sleep, or, wakeful, dream
Of happiness no mortal heart has felt,
But in the regions of romance'. Ye fair,
Like you it must be wooed or never won;
And, being lost, it is in vain


For milk of roses and Olympian dew.
Cosmetic art no tincture can afford,
The faded features to restore: no chain,
Be it of gold, and strong as adamant,
Can fetter beauty to the fair one's will.


A summer morning.--THOMSON.
The meek-eyed morn appears, mother of dews,
At first faint gleaming in the dappled east :
Till far o'er ēther spreads the widening glow;
And, from before the lustre of her face,
White break the clouds away. _With quickened step,
Brown Night retires : Young Day pours in apace,
And opens all the lawny prospect wide.
The dripping rock, the mountain's misty top,
Swell on the sight, and brighten with the dawn.
Blue, through the dusk, the smoking currents shine;
And from the bladed field the fearful hare
Limps awkward: while along the forest glade
The wild deer trip, and often, turning, gaze
At early passenger. Music awakes
The native voice of undissembled joy ;
And thick around the woodland hymns arise.
Rous'd by the cock, the soon-clad shepherd leaves

mossy cottage, where with Peace he dwells;
And from the crowded fold, in order, drives
His flock, to taste the verdure of the morn.
Falsely luxurious, will not Man awake;
And, springing from the bed of sloth, enjoy
The cool, the frāgrant, and the silent hour,
To meditation due and sacred song?
For is there aught in sleep can charm the wise ?
To lie in dead oblivion, losing half

The fleeting moments of too short a life ;
Total extinction of the enlightened soul !
Or else to feverish vanity alive,
Wildered, and tossing through distempe, ed dreams?
Who would in such a glooniy state remain
Longer than Nature craves ; when every Muse,
And every blooming pleasure wait without,
To bless the wildly devious morning walk?

But yonder comes the powerful King of Day,
Rejoicing in the east. The lessening cloud,
The kindling āzure, and the mountain's brow
Illumed with fluid gold, his near approach
Betoken glad. Lo, now, apparent all,
Aslant the dew-bright earth, and colored air,
He looks in boundless majesty abroad,
And sheds the shining day, that burnished plays
On rocks, and hills, and towers, and wandering streams
High-gleaming from afar. Prime cheerer, Light!
Of all material beings first, and best!
Efnux divine! Nature's resplendent robe!
Without whose resting beauty all

were wrapt
In unessential gloom; and thou, O Sun !
Soul of surrounding worlds ! in whom best seen
Shines out thy Maker! may I sing of thee?

'Tis by thy secret, strong, attractive force,
As with a chain indissoluble bound,
Thy system rolls entire; from the far bourn
Of utmost Sāturn, wheeling wide his round
Of thirty years, to Mercury, whose disk
Can scarce be caught by philosophic eye,
Lost in the near effulgence of thy blaze.

Informer of the planetary train !
Without whose quickening glance their cumbrous orbs
Were brute unlovely mass, inert and dead,
And not, as now, the green abodes of life;
How many forms of being wait on thee,
Inhaling spirit, from the unfettered mind,
By thee sublimed, down to the daily race,
The mixing myriads of thy setting beam.

The vegetable world is also thine,
Pārent of Seasons ! who the pomp precede
That waits thy throne, as through thy vast domain,
Annual, along the bright ecliptic road,
In world-rejoicing state, it moves sublime.

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