There are some inadvertences to which the author's attention should be called. When Rolfe, and his companion Earthquake, are in the woods on the banks of the Ohio, at the time of the murder of Mr. Foreman's family, they are represented (see page 32, vol. i,) as hearing a sudden cry—upon which, proceeding to the river bank, they look around and see—nothing. The boat containing the family had sunk before their appearance and no traces remained. Yet on page 113 of the same volume, we find the hunters giving to the Prophet a detailed account of the massacre and burning—things of which they could know nothing whatsoever.
When Mis-kwa-bun-o-kwa (that acute young lady) is about leaving her wigwam on the Red River—forced away by the six Indians of the Prophet, she goes to much trouble in making little dirt babies as a means of informing Rolfe and Oloompa, when they shall arrive, of the disaster which has befallen her. The six Indians, it is possible, would have taken notice of the dirt babies and destroyed them before their departure—for we are told they were set upon a shelf in the wigwam. At all events, the young princess should have had a less opinion of her own ingenuity, and have requested Miss Foreman to write a bona fide epistle to her lover. In this manner she would have saved herself no little dabbling in the mud.
In his dialogues, our author will observe that he makes a far too frequent use of the names of the speakers. Earthquake, for example, cannot say a word to Rolfe, without calling him Rolfe, to commence with—and Rolfe does nothing but Earth Mr. Earthquake to the end of the chapter. This has the most ludicrous effect imaginable. The colloquy might as well proceed, too, without so excessive an use of the word “said.” The “said Earths” and “said Rolfes” have put us in a positive fever. The general style of Mr. French is intrinsically good—but has a certain air of rawness which only time and self-discipline will enable him to mellow down. In depicting character, the novelist is unequal. Earth is natural, and although drawn with force, still free from the usual exaggerations. We have already spoken of Elkswatawa and Tecumseh. Oloompa is a bold and chivalrous Indian, with a fine ideal elevation of manner. Miss Foreman we dislike, because we cannot comprehend her. In vain we endeavor to form of her, from the portrait before us, any definite image. She is a young lady—and we are told a very pretty one—but Mr. F. must pardon us for saying that she has—no character whatsoever.
Upon the whole we think highly of “Elkswatawa,” as evincing a capacity for better things. But if the question were demanded—What has Mr. French here done for his reputation?—we would reply possibly, upon the spur of the moment—“very little.” Upon second thoughts we should say—“just nothing at all.”
THE VIRGINIA SPRINGS.
Letters Descriptive of the Virginia Springs—the Roads leading thereto and the Doings thereat. Collected, Corrected, Annotated and Edited by Peregrine Prolix. With a Map of Virginia. Philadelphia: Published by H. S. Tanner.
In our late notice of a Pleasant Peregrination through the Prettiest Parts of Pennsylvania, we had occasion to mention in high terms of commendation these Letters Descriptive of the Virginia Springs. Seeing them now advertised (very opportunely) as for sale in the city of Richmond, we take the liberty of calling attention more particularly to their merits. Every person about to pay a visit to our Springs, should read the book of course—and every person not about to pay them a visit, should most especially read it that he may have the pleasure of changing his mind. The volume is a very small one—a duodecimo of about 100 pages—but is replete with information of the most useful and the most enticing nature to the tourist. It is moreover, as the title implies, increased in value by the addition of a Tanner's Map of Virginia, in which the usual routes to the Springs are marked in colored lines. The volume has already been so freely quoted by all parties, that we can do no more than just copy a few words in relation to the Red Sulphur Springs of our old and highly esteemed friend, Mr. Burke, and to the Grey Sulphur of Mr. Legare.
The distance to the Red Sulphur (from the Salt Sulphur) is eighteen miles over a mountainous and woody region, which grows wilder and more romantic as you proceed. You pass two or three little valleys, into which the sun's rays penetrate between the branches and trunks of the gigantic trees, which have been robbed of their leafy honors by the process of girdling: the ground below being occupied by Indian corn. After ascending several successive elevations, the road reaches the top of a narrow mountain ridge, along which it runs for several miles, and affords a prospect into the deep and precipitous valley on either side. After descending from this ridge the road follows for several miles the bank of a beautiful creek, and brings you to the Red Sulphur Spring. This is one of the most beautiful and interesting objects in the Virginia Mountains. It flows from the rock into a quadrangular reservoir, composed of four slabs of white marble, the lower edges of which rest on the rock from which the water gushes. The reservoir is about six feet long, five wide, and four and a half deep; and a beautiful red and mysterious substance covers the bottom, which extending some distance up the sides, sheds through the transparency of the water its own lovely hue. The water is clear and cool, (its temperature being fifty-four of Fahrenheit,) is very strongly charged with sulphuretted hydrogen gas, and contains portions of several neutral salts. It possesses in a high degree the valuable property of lowering an exalted pulse, and is generally diuretic and aperient. To a Philadelphian palate its coolness is very gratifying. The spring is situated near one side of a little triangular plain, almost buried in mountains, and therefore cut short of its fair proportion of sunshine. The buildings, consisting of two large and commodious hotels, and three rows of cabins, are conveniently arranged upon the plain. The best row of cabins is called Philadelphia row, and is built of brick, each cabin containing two good rooms, in one of which is a fire-place. The table and other accommodations are very good, and Mr. Burke, the proprietor, is making every effort by new and expensive improvements to increase the comforts of his future guests.