enlighten and convince the mind, are not indifferent about pleasing it, and have thus attained the highest beauties of style, because style has not been their first object. The Edinburgh Review has often, and the Quarterly Review, occasionally, afforded examples which seem to unite, as far as they are capable of union, the casy natural manner of Addison or Swift, with the vigour, precision, and splendid diction of Dr. Johnson. Let us indulge the hope that they have not only furnished valuable models of composition, but that they also give a probable indication, that the period of fine writing in our language, may be long protracted, if not perpetuated, notwithstanding the inherent tendency of that language, in common with every other, to gradual deterioration and decay.

AMERICAN SCENERY.-FOR THE PORT FOLIO.

QUEENSTOWN.-UPPER CANADA.

THE renewal of military operations on the Canada frontier has given a new interest to the recollection of those scenes about which curiosity was so much excited, and expectation disappointed last year. Events in the present year on the Niagara strait, bear more eclat, though those of the last were in a great measure to be attributed to causes which no longer exist.

A view of Queenstown which appears in this number, conveys a very characteristic picture of the bold and lofty declivities of the Niagara strait from the basin at Queenstown to the falls, a distance of eight miles. The cliffs on each side rise about two hundred feet above the level of the water of lake Ontario. It was up this path to the summit of the height our troops ascended, at the period when the British general Brock fell, and when general Scott of our army distinguished himself; on this height it was that a British Indian addressing colonel Scott, exclaimed-" You not born to be shot-so many times, (holding up the fingers of both hands to count ten) I levelled and fired my rifle at you."

The remote perspective in the picture, gives the falls, above which two and a half miles, the small river or creek named the

Chippeway after an Indian tribe who reside on its upper waters. This creek is a deep turbid stream, navigable twenty-five or twenty-six miles inland. The village which bears the same name occupies both banks near its confluence with the Niagara. A stout. wooden bridge crosses the creek; the houses not exceeding forty.

There are no permanent military works at Chippeway: the defences established by the British there, are the ordinary field-works of earth stockaded.

AMERICA BY FRENCH PENS-FOR THE PORT FOLIO.

FEW travellers have visited this country, who have disentangled themselves from prejudice. Few nations, indeed, have been so frequently misrepresented either by blind enthusiasm, or malicious falsehood. Several French writers have decorated their descriptions with the most romantic fables, whilst the English, with scarcely an exception, have filled their volumes with expressions of scorn and hatred.

External motives have often governed them both, particularly the former. One of these has had a favourite hypothesis to support; another a recent affront to resent: thus we see St. John de Crévecœur eulogising with great extravagance, the rural habits of our peasantry, because he had long maintained that husbandry was alone the true source of happiness: thus the Revolutionist, Brissot de Warville, extolled in too lofty a tone of praise, the purity and excellence of our republican institutions; and thus Volney and Talleyrand, disgusted with the licentiousness of their countrymen, painted us in terms derisory and disparaging.

Forever drawn in colours too gaudy or too sombre, we look in vain for a pencil that shall seize with accuracy and blend with harmony, the various tints which enter into the portrait of a people whose national features are not yet fully developed.

A man who sets out to survey a foreign country, with an intention of publishing his observations, has very important duties to fulfil. His pages may be consulted by the naturalist, the philoso

pher, the geographer, or the statesman. If his reports are false, he will mislead them as to the manners of the people, internal structure, native productions and general policy of the country described. It behoves him then to form his opinions with great care and caution. Perfect freedom from prejudice, a long residence amongst, and a thorough knowledge of the language of the people visited, are some of the essentials necessary for qualifying a man to report upon their customs and character. Devested of his homestead partialities, he should view men and objects with an equitable eye, although they happen to rise up before him in shapes novel and uncouth; referring always to his temperate judgment rather than to the feelings of his heart for a decision. If things differ from those he has been accustomed to see, let him ask himself whether circumstances peculiar to the country, do not make the difference necessary? Whether the climate, soil, and locality do not require appropriate habits? Whether the habits of his own country, however superior at first sight, would not be inconvenient and unsuitable abroad?

Foreign manners and customs contemplated in this sober way, must, not unfrequently extort praise from the judicious tourist, rather than satire; for, dismissing those homeborn feelings which so often disfigure the truth, he would never be seen to record as characteristic marks of a whole nation, little incidental occurrences that possess barely a stamp of individuality.

Having been grossly and constantly misrepresented by European writers, it should be the aim of every American to defend the good name of his country, and to consolidate our different manners and opinions into one durable and impressive shape, which may place us distinctly, conspicuously, and immoveably among the communities of the earth, as a characterized people; so that it shall no longer be pretended that we are a heterogeneous assemblage, eagerly claiming kindred with other countries, while we slight our own; possessing sentiments as unsettled as our relations are dispersed; viewing our soil and its sons with frigid indifference, and forestalling with greedy appetite the less perfect products of foreign growth! What maxim is better established, than that, he who does not respect himself, will look in vain for the respect of

others!

Our institutions, our civilization and our understandings have been undervalued by transatlantic pens, and we have acquiesced too easily in their unjust assertions; we have by our silence, our foreign prepossessions, and by our neglect of indigenous worth, contributed to spread opinions as unfavourable as false. Should we not cease then to stigmatise as homespun, objects confessedly equal, if not superior, to those, which, coming from abroad, receive the tribute of praise and admiration?

It has lately been asserted in print by Mr. Fennell, that the managers of the Philadelphia theatre, receive native productions with great reluctance; not because they want merit, but because they are not composed in Europe:-Nay, that several contemptible pieces, of English origin, and held in no estimation in that country, have been advertized in America with a false declaration of their bearing the seal of English approbation, which secured to them a favourable reception here; thus cheating our imaginations by a profitable homage to our prejudices! and audiences, which the great Cooke has pronounced competent to distinguish the finest passages in Shakspeare, by their judicious plaudits, have permitted their taste and judgment to be swayed by spurious reports.

The French, English, and even the Germans have dipt their pens in gall, and lost sight of decency and truth, when describing America. Subjoined are a few extracts from the works of some of the French writers, which will show their monstrous exaggeration and jaundiced prejudices; very particularly those from the work of Mr. Volney.

The Abbé Robin was the first of that nation who wrote upon this country after, or rather during, the revolution. He only visited Boston, which he alone describes; but as usual with modern travellers, he applies all he sees there, good or bad, to the rest of the nation, and even entitles his work "An Account of the Manners, Customs, Commerce &c. of the Americans." His impressions are generally favourable.

Boston was at that time (1780) built almost wholly of wood. The Abbé describes the houses thus:

"Every part of them is so securely fastened, and their weight, compared to their size, so inconsiderable, that they can be moved from place to place. I saw some, two stories high, transported

half a mile. The moveable houses of the Scythians were much less extraordinary."

I have heard of some other traveller who asserts that, when two neighbours happen to quarrel, one of them sends for a strong team, with which he removes his dwelling to the next street.

Monsieur Robin pretends to prove by the records of our tombstones, that the age of man is shorter here than in Europe. This supposition may be considered as parallel in absurdity with Buffon's assertions of the deterioration of all living beings in this part of the globe, since it is proved daily by our bills of mortality that septuagenaries and even centenaries are exceedingly common.

"At twenty years old," says the Abbé, "the women lose the colour and complexion of youth: at thirty-five or forty they are wrinkled and decrepid; the men showing almost the same premature decay. Presuming that the life of man was shorter here, I have examined the grave-yards of Boston, and I have seen by the tombstones that few exceed fifty years; very few reach to sixty; almost none attain to seventy, and beyond there exists no register.” The Abbé's chimney caught fire, and this momentous event is thus related:

"The common people are still attached to their old prejudices. I saw lately an instance of it. The house in which I lodged caught fire; it was occupied by a Frenchman. It is easy to imagine what a stir this must make in a town built wholly of wood. Crowds assembled in a moment; but when they discovered who tenanted it, they ceased their exertions and gazed at it in idleness. I ordered the doors to be shut, hermetically sealed the chimney, which alone was on fire, with a wet blanket, which I kept constantly moist. The women of the family flew into a violent passion at sight of the floors inundated with slime and water; I took nevertheless entire command of the house, while they continued to scold and to declare the remedy worse than the disease."

The marquis de Chastelleux published on America in 1785.Brissot de Warville wrote a severe criticism on this work, and visited this country himself in 1788. The brilliant talents, favourable impressions, and republican enthusiasm of this traveller, render his journal peculiarly interesting to us all, but more especially to that valuable part of the community-the Quakers, whom Bris