By sign of blood for bloody deeds:
For his father's spirit may not rest
Till all his wrongs shall be redress'd.

XVI.

A sound disturbs the midnight air ;-
Is it the grosbeak's thrilling note?
Now low-now ringing loud and clear-
The tones in varied music float.
Watchful, erect, the warrior stood
Awaken'd from his dreaming mood;
Yet motionless his form, as stone;
His brilliant, restless eye alone
Gave token of the soul within,

And the proud nostril, wide distent
And lip compress'd, seem'd bent to win
From earth or air that sound's intent.

XVII.

Again, beneath the list'ning skies
Mellow and clear, the sounds arise.

Where wreathes the dew-gemm'd forest vine
Round branching elm and rugged pine
And closely twining shrubs have made
A dense, impenetrable shade,

The voice seems sadly breathing on
In ling'ring melancholy tone:
Is it the grosbeak's varied chant
Poured freely from his forest haunt,
Or note of imitative skill

Waked at some cunning hunter's will?
One moment gazing on the wood
With earnest eye the warrior stood
Then rang his rich and clear response,
Once rais'd on high and answer'd once.

XVIII.

Ere long, the parting branches cast
To right and left, a form discover
Forth issuing, in joyous haste,

In trappings of a forest-rover;
A tall, strong form well girt to trace
The devious trail, or guide the chase ;
Loose from his bronzed and sinewy neck

Fell his soil'd hunting-shirt of check,
A belt of deer-skin closely brac'd
The circle of his manly waist,

While loosely from the shoulder borne
Hung bullet-pouch and powder-horn.
One hand his polish'd rifle clasp'd
With one the branch above he grasp'd;
His open, sun-burnt brow was clear
Of lurking guile or trace of fear,
Unclouded was his bright blue eye
And flush'd his cheek with color high
And o'er his features broke the while
The sunshine of a merry smile.

XIX.

"Well done, my prince of braves !"—he said, "The track was long, but fleetly sped. Hast met the foe-hast found the trail? Speak, boy, shall HEART-OF-OAK prevail, To win thy father to the fight And speed the crafty foeman's flight?"

"Listen, my brother,"-thus replied
The Indian youth, in mournful pride;
"Young Eagle treads the path alone,
Young Eagle's wigwam holds but one!
His spirit hears an angry sound
From the Manitou's hunting-ground,
My women weep a brave again,
The Lenape mourn a hero slain."

XX.

Dark grows Wood-Rover's open brow,
The merry eye is clouded now ;-
While grief and passion eloquent
Across his honest features blent.
"Nay, boy!" he answered-" Is it so ?
Then heaven have mercy on the foe:
Thy father slain-woe fall the hand!—
Who struck the blow-who led the band?
Speak, Eagle if this arm of mine

Can reach the reptile-"

"Arm of thine?"

Exclaimed the brave, while fiercely shone

His burning eye-" this hand alone
Must drink his blood. See, Rover! see,
Two moons have come and gone since we
Stripp'd bare the pine on yonder plain
And cast the tomahawk again-' ""

"I know it, boy,—but thou can'st tell
How sped the strife and how he fell,
Was it in fair or treacherous fight
By hand of Iroquois or white?"

"The coward pale-face struck the blow-
The moon was in her morning glow,
But Huron paint could not disguise,
The Red-hand from Young Eagle's eyes."

"Red-hand?-aye-Coeur-du-Sang again-
By him was brave old Uncas slain?
The monster soon shall bite the dust,
This work be ours, and God our trust."

"The path is open, brother!" said
The youth, and pointed where the head
Of distant Thung rose bold and drear
Cleaving the deep blue atmosphere,
"The path is open-let us go-
This light our devious way must show:
Come, Rover, ere the moon shall fall
Below the hills, thy voice must call
The White-Swan from her shaded nest,
And then-my brother knows the rest!"

"Thou speakest well, my boy-away!
We reach the hut as breaks the day."

ΧΧΙ

His rifle o'er his shoulder flung,

His pouch and horn behind him hung,
His deer-skin belt and knife-sheath brac'd

For greater ease, around his waist,

Firmly he trod the forest floor

And on the war-path went once more.

Graceful, and noiseless as the ray

That through the boughs seemed loth to stray,
As if reluctant to impair

VOL. I.-NO. I.

9

The sabbath-stillness reigning there,
The Indian glided through the wood
In silent, self-communing mood.

XXII.

How brightly o'er thy glittering tide,
Lingered the hours, St. Sacrament!
Till from the misty mountain side
The soft light of the firmament
Melted, as all serene and still

The moon rolled o'er the distant hill.
How beautiful!-the wavelets bright
Seem like a rosary of light,

On which the queen of night may tell
The prayers of her sweet farewell,
And the green islands seem to sleep
As shrines upon that brilliant deep,
Whence, kindled by the inorning skies
The purple incense soon shall rise
While wood and shore and plain shall ring
With praise to nature's bounteous King.

[Canto II. in our next.]

POPULAR EDUCATION.*

The great end of all education should be to exalt the standard of human character, by the due development and culture of the human faculties. No system of education therefore can be correct and comprehensive, which is not constructed with a view to the complex nature of man as a physical, intellectual and moral being. Its distinguishing excellence must consist in the provision which it makes for the thorough development and harmonious advancement of this nature in its separate elements, and as a whole. It should labor to bring the physical

THE SCHOOL AND THE SCHOOLMASTER. A manual for the use of Teachers, Employers, Trustees, Inspectors, &c., &c., of common schools. In two parts. Part first, by ALONZO POTTER, D. D., of New York. Part second, by GEORGE B. EMERSON, A. M., of Massachusetts. New York. Harper & Brothers. 1842. THOUGHTS ON THE PRESENT COLLEGIATE SYSTEM OF THE UNITED STATES. By FRANCIS WAYLAND. Boston. Gould, Kendall, and Lincoln. 1842.

functions into healthy action, to classify and improve the rational faculties, and to purify and elevate the spiritual affections. It should aim at due proportion in the process, and perfect symmetry in the result. The parent, therefore, and the teacher, from the earliest period at which the child is intrusted to their guardianship and culture, must study the manner and order of development of the several faculties. They must listen to the unerring teachings of nature, and reverently follow out those teachings in the systematic and unremitting endeavor to exalt the whole being to that lofty position which God intended it should occupy.

It is needless to inquire here, how far this true idea of education has been realized in the operations and results of the systems which, until within a few years, have held undisputed sway. We would rather dwell upon the cheering fact, that in our day the subject of education, considered in the view we have given, has been honored with some degree of that attention which its pre-eminent importance demands. Gifted and cultivated minds have applied themselves to its study. Enlightened philanthropy has discerned in it the highest instrumentality by which the moral, social and religious welfare of man is to be promoted. The voice of the press, sanctioned by the pulpit, and encouraged by the increasing strength and tone of public sentiment, has more than once uttered the demand for a system purer, larger and loftier than those which have hitherto trained the public mind, and fashioned the character. That demand at first was feeble, scarcely articulate; for those who uttered it were themselves under the dominion of prejudices which time and unquestioned authority had rendered venerable. Genius and self-culture and deep philosophic insight into the principles and workings of the human mind, long ago, created in a few the conviction that all was not right. But the powerful spell of the old regime, woven in the hours and the haunts of their own pupilage, still hung over their minds, and though they spoke sincerely, it was but according to the strength that was in them. Yet the voice, though feeble, did not pass away into silence. It had its mission and its object, which it was destined to accomplish. "Fit audience, though few," was created for it. Among these few it found a response.