t efforts are not made.

None will work now without the prospect of an immediate return. Very
possibly it is so; but then let us not hope or wish for immortality.
"Present time and future," says Sir Joshua Reynolds, "are rivals; he
who solicits the one must expect to be discountenanced by the other."
It is not that we want genius; what we want is the great and heroic
spirit which will devote itself; by strenuous efforts, to great
things, without seeking any reward but their accomplishment.

Nor let it be said that great subjects for the painter's pencil, the
poet's muse, are not to be found--that they are exhausted by former
efforts, and nothing remains to us but imitation. Nature is
inexhaustible; the events of men are unceasing, their variety is
endless. Philosophers were mourning the monotony of time, historians
were deploring the sameness of events, in the years preceding the
French Revolution--on the eve of the Reign of Terror, the flames of
Moscow, the retreat from Russia. What was the strife around Troy to
the battle of Leipsic?--the contests of Florence and Pisa to the
revolutionary war? What ancient naval victory to that of Trafalgar?
Rely upon it, subjects for genius are not wanting; genius itself,
steadily and perseveringly directed, is the thing required. But genius
and energy alone are not sufficient; COURAGE and disinterestedness are
needed more than all. Courage to withstand the assaults of envy, to
despise the ridicule of mediocrity--disinterestedness to trample under
foot the seductions of ease, and disregard the attractions of
opulence. An heroic mind is more wanted in the library or the studio,
than in the field. It is wealth and cowardice which extinguish the
light of genius, and dig the grave of literature as of nations.

SETTLED AT LAST; OR, RED RIVER RECOLLECTIONS.

CHAP. I.

HOMEWARD BOUND.

I had left New Orleans with the full intention of proceeding without
stop or delay to my home upon the Red River; but notwithstanding this
determination, my wife and myself were unable to resist Richards'
pressing invitation to pause for a day or two at his house. Upon our
yielding to his solicitations, he proceeded to recruit other guests
among our travelling companions, and soon got together a pleasant
party. My father-in-law, Monsieur Menou, went on to my plantation, but
Julie remained with us, as did also her aunt, Madame Duras, an
agreeable old lady with a slight expression of perfidy in h