As regards their vanity, we have not often had the fortune to contemplate a young squaw at her toilet; but, from the studied arrangement of her calico jacket; from the glaring circles of vermilion on her plump and circular face; from the artificial manner in which her hair, of intense black, is clubbed in a coil of the thickness of a man's wrist; from the long time it takes her to complete these arrangements, from the manner in which she minces and ambles, and plays off her prettiest airs, after she has put on all her charms, we should clearly infer that dress and personal ornament occupy the same portion of her thoughts that they do of the fashionable woman of civilized society. In regions contiguous to the whites, the squaws have generally a calico shirt of the finest colors. A young Indian warrior is notoriously the most thoroughgoing beau in the world. Bond Street and Broadway furnish no subjects that will undergo as much crimping and confinement, to appear in full dress. We are confident that we have observed such a character, constantly occupied with his paints and his pocket-glass, three full hours, laying on his colors, and arranging his tresses, and contemplating, from time to time, with visible satisfaction, the progress of his growing attractions. When he has finished, the proud triumph of irresistible charms is in his eye. The chiefs and warriors, in full dress, have one, two, or three broad clasps of silver about their arms; generally jewels in their ears, and often in their noses; and nothing is more common than to see a thin, circular piece of silver, of the size of a dollar, depending from the nose, a little. below the upper lip. Nothing shows more clearly the influence of fashion: this ornament, so painfully inconvenient, as it evidently is to them, and so horridly ugly and disfiguring, seems to be the utmost finish of Indian taste. Painted porcupine-quills are twisted in their hair. Tails of animals hang from their hair behind. A necklace of bear's or alligator's teeth, or of claws of the bald eagle, hangs loosely down, with an interior and smaller circle of large red beads; or, in default of them, a rosary of red hawthorns surrounds the neck. From the knees to the feet, the legs are ornamented with great numbers of little, perforated, cylindrical pieces of silver or brass, that emit a simultaneous tinkle as the person walks. If to all this he add an American hat, and a soldier's coat of blue, faced with red, over the customary calico shirt of the gaudiest colors that can be found, he lifts his feet high, and steps firmly on the ground, to give his tinklers an uniform and full sound, and apparently considers his appearance with as much complacency as the human bosom can be supposed to feel. This is a very curtailed view of an Indian beau; but every reader competent to judge will admit its fidelity, as far as it goes, to the description of a young Indian warrior, when prepared to take part in a public dance. JAMES A. HILLHOUSE, 1789-1841. THE Hillhouse family held a high social position in Derry, Ireland. One of the members emigrated to America, and settled in Connecticut in 1720. The grandfather of our poet, Hon. William Hillhouse, was engaged for more than fifty years in the public service, as a representative, a member of the council, and an efficient officer in other places of trust and dignity. The father of the poet, Hon. James Hillhouse, who died in 1833, filled various offices in his native State, and was for many years a leading member of Congress. The subject of the present sketch was born in New Haven, on the 26th of September, 1789. At the age of fifteen, he entered Yale College, and graduated in 1808, with a high reputation for scholarship. At the Commencement of 1812, he delivered before the Phi Beta Kappa Society a descriptive poem, entitled "The Judgment," which gained him high reputation. It is in the form of a “vision," and is designed to represent the fearful events of the great day of final retribution. In our opinion, all such attempts must be as signal failures, as Martin's to "illustrate" the sublime conceptions of Milton. The moment you describe or localize, the boundless play of the imagination is gone. In 1819, he visited Europe upon business engagements, and while in London revised what had long been written and published, "Percy's Masque, a Drama in Five Acts," which was republished in this country in 1820. It is founded upon the ballad of "The Hermit of Washworth," by Bishop Percy. In 1822, Mr. Hillhouse married Cornelia Lawrence, daughter of Isaac Lawrence, Esq., of New York, and soon after returned to New Haven, where he resided at "Sachem's Wood," the name of his beautiful seat, occupied with the pursuits of a man of taste and fortune. During the year 1824, "Hadad, a Dramatic Poem," was written, and the next year was committed to the press. It is based upon the belief in a former intercourse between mankind and the good and evil beings of the spiritual world, and the scene is laid in Judea, in the time of King David. Hadad, a Syrian prince, is in Jerusalem, and falls in love with Tamar, the sister of Absalom; but she will give no encouragement to him, unless he shall renounce his heathenism, and conform to the Jewish worship, &c. This is generally considered the best of his productions. In 1839, he published in Boston, in two volumes, all the above-mentioned poems, with "Demetria, a Tragedy in Five Acts," founded on an Italian tale of love, jealousy, and revenge; and "Sachem's Wood," together with several orations which he had delivered on public occasions. For some time previous to this his health had been failing, and in the autumn of 1840 he left home, for the last time, to visit his friends in Boston. He returned somewhat benefited; but, on the second day of the following January, his disorder assumed an alarming form, which terminated fatally on the evening of the fourth of that month. SCENE FROM HADAD. The garden of ABSALOM's house on Mount Zion, near the palace, overlooking the city. TAMAR sitting by a fountain. [Enter Hadad.] Had. Delicious to behold the world at rest. Meek Labor wipes his brow, and intermits The curse, to clasp the younglings of his cot; Herdsmen and shepherds fold their flocks-and, hark! The jar of life is still; the city speaks In gentle murmurs; voices chime with lutes And nature, breathing dew and fragrance, yields Tam. Ah, Hadad, meanest thou to reproach the Friend Had. Perfect benevolence, methinks, had willed With pleasure, like a flowing spring of life. Tam. Our Prophet teaches so, till man rebelled. Defensive volleyed from the throne; this, this Had been rebellion worthy of the name, Tam. Ah! talk not thus. Had. Is this benevolence ? Nay, loveliest, these things sometimes trouble me; Our Syrians deem each lucid fount, and stream, Of man, a spiritual race, allied To him by many sympathies, who seek His happiness, inspire him with gay thoughts, Cool with their waves, and fan him with their airs. O'er them, the Spirit of the Universe, Or Soul of Nature, circumfuses all With mild, benevolent, and sun-like radiance; As spirit does the body, till green herbs, And beauteous flowers, and branchy cedars, rise; Had. These deities They invocate with cheerful, gentle rites, Tam. Cast not reproach upon the holy altar. Had. Nay, sweet.-Having enjoyed all pleasures here That Nature prompts, but chiefly blissful love, At death, the happy Syrian maiden deems Her immaterial flies into the fields, Or circumambient clouds, or crystal brooks, And dwells, a Deity, with those she worshipped, Till time or fate return her in its course To quaff, once more, the cup of human joy. Had. I almost wish Thou didst; for I have feared, my gentle Tamar, Announced in terror, coupled with the threats Tam. (In tears, clasping her hands.) I love, adore, and praise thy glorious name, I grieve for hopes that fade-for your lost soul, Had. O say not so, Beloved princess. Why distrust my faith? Tam. Thou know'st, alas! my weakness; but remember, I never, never will be thine, although The feast, the blessing, and the song were past, Though Absalom and David called me bride, Till sure thou own'st, with truth and love sincere, HADAD'S DESCRIPTION OF THE CITY OF DAVID. 'Tis so; the hoary harper sings aright; Soft gleaming through the umbrage of the woods, Hailed by the pilgrims of the desert, bound To Judah's mart with orient merchandise. But not, for thou art fair and turret-crowned, Wet with the choicest dew of heaven, and blessed Where saints and prophets teach, where the stern law EVENING MUSIC OF THE ANGELS. Low warblings, now, and solitary harps, |