MRS. CLAVERS ' S FOREST LIFE.

MRS. CLAYERS is favourably known as the author of A New Home, or Glimpses of Western Life ; a work in which she gave an account of her experience as a new settler in a new district of Michigan ; and though modelled on the plan of Our Village, and partaking too much of Miss MITFORD'S ornate style and manner of over-elaborat- ing common things, the book presented a very agreeable, graphic, and lifelike picture of Western society in the wild woods. The , present publication is a continuation of the subject ; and, alas ! like continuations in general, it exhibits somewhat of a falling-off. Mrs. CLAvEas appears to have used up the best and most striking part of her materials in her first work ; and she is now presenting, not the same incidents or the same characters over again, but things of a similar description. It strikes us, too, that her style is more wordy, her thoughts less close, and her matter beaten out over a larger space—gold-leaf instead of gold. Probably there is more artifice in the management of her incidents ; and the book through- out exhibits more of the form and spirit of authorcraft. She wrote A New Home because her mind was full of her subject ; she wrote Forest Life because A New Home was successful.

The verboseness sometimes degenerating into absolute phrase- mongery, the emptiness or flimsiness which follows an effort to im- part by words an interest to a subject which it does not possess, and the made-up character that obvious artificialness gives to any

thing, are absolute defects. The others are merely comparative. Any reader who was unacquainted with A New Home would re- ceive Forest Life as a series of elegant feminine sketches of Michi- gan society. He would derive a very good notion of opinion and practices in a new settlement, as well as an idea of what the in- tending settler, accustomed to English conveniences, must make up his mind to. He would miss, however, the completer view to be obtained from the former work.

The structure of ForestLifeis that of a series of sketches, so slightly connected together that little more than verbal alterations would enable them to change places or be exhibited separately. Beyond some pictures of domestic peculiarities, (Mrs. CLAVERS does not call them troubles) and a few sketches of village characters or occur- rences, the book consists of various little incidents worked up into a species of scenes. A long excursion through the woods in the family. waggon serves to introduce a fine Democratic family, the spoiled daughter of which, in a fit of romance, has persuaded the elders to quit the high-road for pure nature ; and the troubles of the whole carriage-load, aggravated by the independent and familiar indiffer- ence of the goodnatured young Western teamster who has engaged

to drive them, are very graphically painted—effective without ex- aggeration—quite a bit of comedy. Of a more mournful character, but equally natural, is the death of the bee-hunter, poor Mallory, from the accidental fall of a heavy branch ; and the circumstances of his funeral furnish a clear glimpse of a necessitous society, where there is little time for the indulgence of sentiment or "the luxury of wo." Into the same tour, also, are introduced a spirited description of " raising " a mill in the woods, and a somewhat less interesting sketch of an election-procession, with speeches before and dinner after. The settlement in the neighbourhood of an agreeable, scheming, goodnatured English gentleman with his family, enables Mrs. CLAYERS to paint the obvious troubles that beset the colo- nist in a new society ; as some letters from the family to friends in New York describe the inward disagreeables, and the spirit with which they must be met and conquered ; though this episode or introduction has a character at once forced and flimsy. One pleasant love-tale, the hero of which is a second Cymon, gives a picture of farming-life in the West, which, primitive as it seems now, might have been matched in remote English districts in the early part of the century. Another clever account of love-troubles through poverty and a lawsuit, serves to describe maple-sugar- making, and a beau and belle of the Western woods.

Having in our notice of Mrs. CLAYERS'S first work entered pretty fully into the domestic and social peculiarities of Michigan, and from better materials, we will take examples of a more miscella- neous character.

THE FALL OF A TREE.

The felling of a great tree has something of the sublime in it When the axe first falls on the trunk of a stately oak, laden with the green wealth of a century, or a pine whose aspiring peak might look down on a moderate church- steeple, the contrast between the puny instrument and the gigantic result to be accomplished approaches the ridiculous. But as "the eagle, towering in his pride of place, was by a mousing owl hawked at and killed," so the leaf- crowned monarch of the wood has no small reason to quiver at the sight of a long-armed Yankee approaching his deep-rooted trunk with an awkward axe. One blew seems to accomplish nothing ; not even a chip falls. But with an- other stroke comes a broad slice of the bark, leaving an ominous, gaping wound. Another pair of blows extends the gash; and when twenty such have fallen, behold a girdled tree. This would suffice to kill, and a melancholy death it is; but to fell is quite another thing. The coups de hache now fall thicker and faster ; only on opposite sides, however, not all round the trunk as before. Two deep incisions are made; yet the towering crown sits firm as ever. And now the destroyer pauses—fetches breath—wipes his beaded brow—takes a wary view of the hearings of the tree—and then with slow and watchful care recom- mences his work. The strokes fall doubtingly, and many a cautious glance is cast upward; for the whole immense mass now trembles as if instinct with life and conscious of approaching ruin. Another blow ! it waves; a groaning sound is heard, something like that which struck the ear of the gallant Tancred-

" Un anon che flebile concento Par d' umani sospiri e di singulti • E un non so che confuse instills al core Di pieta, di spavento, e di dolore." Yet another stroke is necessary. It is given with desperate force ; and the tall peak leaves its place with an easy sailing motion, accelerated every instant till it crashes prone on the earth, sending far and wide its shattered branches, and admitting the sunlight to the cool, damp, mossy earth, for the first time, per- haps, in half a century.

THE WILD STRAWBERRY IN MICHIGAN.

Strawberries grow without planting ; and this is the sort of gardening that most of us like best. These are so abundant, that in the spring the very road-sides are damasked with their silver blossoms, and in their ripe season the foot of the passing traveller crushes them everywhere on the un- cultivated uplands and on the moist borders of the marshes. It is, however, on fields that have been once ploughed that we find them in their greatest per- fection. This rude sort of cultivation doubles their size without impairing their exquisite flavour. Transplanting them to your garden seems to affect them as a change from rural to city life does some people. They branch out into splendid foliage, but bear good fruit more sparingly than before.

DANGERS OF WOOD-FELLING.

The woodsman is continually subject to accidents of the most appalling kinds. Added to the incredible toil of clearing heavily-timbered land, the hardy settler goes to his work every morning with the consciousness that only the same Providence which could preserve him unharmed on the field of battle can shield him from the perils of his daily labour. The ordinary operation of cutting down large trees, if performed where the timber is scattered, involves consider- able risk ; since a splinter, a limb heavier than was allowed for, or a heart more decayed than appeared outwardly, may thwart his nice calculations, and wound, if not kill him on the spot. But it is in the dark and heavy wood, where the fathers of the forest stand in ranks almost as closely serried as those of the co- lumns of Staffs, that peculiar dangers are found. If a tree when felled happen to lodge against another, it is almost a miracle if it is dislodged without= • " A sighing, sobbing sound, Which breathes of human wo, and to the heart' Brings whispers vague of pity, terror, grief." C' '

accident. This the best and most experienced woodsmen acknowledge; yet there are few of them who can resist the temptation to try. In cutting down the supporting tree, the one first felled is almost certain either to slide or to rebound in a way which baffles all calculation ; and accidents from this cause are frightfully frequent. The only safe course is to girdle the second tree, and let both stand until they decay, or until some heavy storm sweeps down the incumbrance. But this involves too great a vexation to the axe-man, since his ambition is to see the piece of land he has undertaken to clear bereft of every thing but the unsightly stumps which attest his skill and bravery.

One of the little incidents which forms a separate sketch in Forest I4fe, is a donation-party,—that is, a tithe tea-party, (if such a thing could be fancied,) a gathering at the house of the minister, but where he and his family merely appear as guests to receive the offerings of his flock.

THE DONATION-PARTY.

We presented ourselves, by special request, at an early hour; but, early as R was, dozens of good plain folks from the country bad preceded us. Some, indeed, we were told had been on the ground since breakfast-time. • • •

Two great baskets in the hall were already pretty well filled with bundles of yarn, woollen stockings of all sizes, (sure to fit in a clergyman's family,) rolls of home-made flannel, mysterious parcels enveloped in paper, and bags which looked as if they might contain a great many precious things. Flocks of com- pany were arriving, and no one empty-handed; so that the "removal of the deposits " became a measure of necessity, and the contents of the two baskets were transferred to some reservoir up-stairs. Before the baskets had been re- stored to their places, there was some embarrassment among the mew comers as to the proper bestowment of their contributions, etiquette requiting that an air of mysterious reserve should be observed. But the difficulty was obviated by the arrival of a handsome tea-table, borne by two young men, as the repre- sentatives of a little knot who had hit upon this pretty thought of a present for the minister's lady. Upon this the tasteful class of offerings were displayed to good advantage ; and I observed a study-lamp, a richly-bound Shakspeare, and a bronae inkstand with proper appurtenances. Among the more magnificent were a standing fire-screen elegantly wrought, and a pair of footstools, on which the skill of the cabinetmaker had done its utmost in displaying to advantage very delicate embroidery. The variety' as well as the beauty of the gifts, was very ingenious ; and nobody could finclfault with a handsome purse filled with gold, bearing, in minute letters wrought into its bead-work, the inscription,

To the Reverend Mr. —, from the young men of his church."

When so many people, young and old, were collected with a kind purpose, and under circumstances which levelled, for the time, all distinctions, conver- sation was not likely to flag. In truth, the general complacency evinced itself in a ceaseless stream of talk, with only a moderate infusion of scandal, for every- body was present. The old ladies chatted soberly among themselves and their husbands talked politics in corners. The young ladies fluttered about w ut busily, as in duty bound; for on them devolves, by inviolable usage, all the ministering necessary on the occasion—all the reception of the company and bestowing of their offerings—all care of tea affairs, and distribution of refreshments in order due. Such a dodging of pretty heads, such dancing of ringlets, such gleaming of white, teeth as there was among them! I scarcely wondered that the young men became a little bewildered, and forgot where they ought to stand, and had to be ordered about or turned out into the hall to make room for the more dig- nified or bulky part of the assembly, only td'slip back again upon the first op- portunity. So much youthful beauty is not collected every day, and especially beauty endowed with such a pretty little coquettish station of command. I cannot doubt that much execution was done; and, in truth, there were some very obvious symptoms : but I shall not betray. The clergyman's lady occupies rather an equivocal station on these occasions. She is not exactly in the position of hostess; for every article set before the company is furnished by themselves, and all the ordinary attentions are ren- dered by the young stewardesses of the hour ; so the dominie's lady has only to smile and look happy, and to show by her manner that she is gratified by the interest evinced ; and if to this she superadd good talking powers, and can entertain those of her guests who are not particularly easy to entertain, she has accomplished all that IS expected of her. And all this the fair and ladylike

heroine of the present occasion did very sweetly. • • •

I ought sooner to have mentioned, that the pastor in whose behalf such general interest was shown was a person accustomed to society, and an adept in the best power of hospitality, that of making every one feel welcome and at ease. Mr. — was everywhere, and in everybody's thoughts. Grave with the old, gay with the young, and cheerful with all, he was in every respect the life and soul of the occasion ; and each felt the time spent in conversation with him to have been the sweet " of the night." An enviable power mid one possessed in its perfection only by those whose hearts are full of kindly sym- pathics--who are what others only try to appear.

After the bustle attendant upon serving the tea had subsided, the conversa- tion gradually, and as if spontaneously, took a more serious turn; and before we were aware, the sweet and solemn notes of a hymn, well supported in all its parts, stole upon the ear and hushed all lighter sounds. When several stanzas had been sung, the clergyman, after a short address, invited all present to unite in prayer and thanksgiving to the bounteous giver of all good; and thus se- riously closed a very cheerful evening, without any violent transition or un- pleasant contrast.

REDEEMING HUMANITIES OF THE FAR-OFF WEST.

These primitive ways of ours afford a field for a character unknown in the more advanced stages of society—the good neighbour. We could not get on without him. Be is the mainstay of the community. We have no "True- neighbour Societies "; they are not suited to our condition. We have none so well off as to be able to bestow a great amount of time or means in aiding others, and few so poor as to need any but neighbourly aid. A good neighbour is all we want.

It is not easy to describe this beneficent spirit. It takes a thousand forms. It changes its aspect like the clouds of a glowing sunset, but it wears ever the rich golden tint of a true human sympathy. Does disease invade your dwell- s ng?—the good neighbour does not pass coldly by and take it for granted that you have all that is needed : he sends his horse for a doctor, or his waggon for a nurse; he offers aid for the long night-watches, or, perhaps, takes kindly away to his own home the little noisy voices that might disturb the invalid. Does death, in spite of all care and kindness, make good his dreaded entrance ? —you cannot send for an undertaker, but you have such aid as professional Lands never gave: the good neighbour relieves you of all anxiety as to the details of the last sad parting, watching your wishes with a delicacy which is erroneously supposed by many to be foreign to unpolished natures; and he leaves not the good work until he has, with his own hands, laid the loved re- mauls in the earth, with all due rites and pions care. Can this do less than bind your heart to him for ever, and secure to him as warm a friend for a like hour of need ?

Is a mother called from her helpless infant ?—the new-born will not lack any thing that it requires, if there be but one nursing mother within many miles. -Are children orphaned, or worse than orphaned by the misconduct of a parent ?—they will soon be distributed, and each one cared for as a sacred trust, with a feeling of responsibility of which those who have seen only the little outcasts of city poor-houses can have but a faint conception.