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cable. Thus situated, their enemy.“plied them with shot all the time, by which means many were killed and buried in the mire.". In the darkness and fog that preceded the dawn of day, sonie few broke through the besiegers and escaped into the woods: 6 the rest were left to the conquerors, of which many were killed in the swamp, like sullen dogs who would rather, in their self-willedness and madness, sit still and be shot through, or cut to pieces,” than implore for mercy. When the day broke upon this handfull of forlorn but dauntless spirits, the soldiers, we are told, entering the swamp, “saw several heaps of them sitting close together, upon whom they discharged their pieces, laden with ten or twelve pistol-bullets at a time; putting the muzzles of the pieces under the boughs, within a few yards of them; so aś, besides those that were found dead, many more were killed and sunk into the mire, and never were minded more by friend or foe,”

Can any one read this plain unvarnished tale, with out admiring the stern resolution, the unbending pride, the loftiness of spirit, that seemed to nerve the hearts of these self-taught heroes, and to raise them above the instinctive feelings of human nature? When the Gauls laid waste the city of Rome, they found the senators clothed in their robes and seated with stern tranquillity in their curule chairs; in this manner they suffered death without resistance or even supplication. Such conduct was, in them, applauded as noble and magnanimous—in the hapless Indians, it was reviled as obstinate and sullen. How truly are


we the dupes of show and circumstance! How different is virtue, clothed in purple and enthroned in state, from virtue naked and destitute, and perishing obscurely in a wilderness!

But I forbear to dwell on these gloomy pictures. The eastern tribes have long since disappeared; the forests that sheltered them have been laid low, and scarce any traces remain of them in the thickly-settled states of New-England, excepting here and there the Indian name of a village or a stream. And such must sooner or later be the fate of those other tribes which skirt the frontiers, and have occasionally been inveigled from their forests to mingle in the wars of white men.

In a little while, and they will go the way that their brethren have


before. The few hordes which still linger about the shores of Huron and Superior, and the tributary streams of the Mississippi, will share the fate of those tribes that once spread over Massachusetts and Connecticut, and lorded it along the proud banks of the Hudson; of that gi. gantic race said to have existed on the borders of the Susquehanna; and of those various nations that flourished about the Potowmac and the Rappahanoc, and that peopled the forests of the vast valley of Shenandoah. They will vanish like a vapour from the face of the earth ; their very history will be lost in forgetfulness; and “the places that now know them will know them no more for ever.” Or if, perchance, some dubious memorial of them should survive, it may be in the romantic dreams of the poet, to people in imagination his glades and groves, like the fauns VOL. II.


and satyrs and sylvan deities of antiquity. But should he venture upon the dark story of their wrongs

and wretchedness; should he tell how they were invaded, corrupted, despoiled; driven from their native abodes and the sepulchres of their fathers; hunted like wild beasts about the earth; and sent down with violence and butchery to the grave-posterity will either turn with horror and incredulity from the tale, or blush with indignation at the inhumanity.of their forefathers. We are driven back," said an old warrior, until we can retreat no farthermour batchets are broken, our bows are snapped, our fires are nearly extinguished—a little longer and the white man will cease to persecute us---for we shall cease to exist!"



As monumental bronze unchanged is look:
A soul that pity touch'd, but never shook ;
Train'd, from his tree-rock'd cradle to his bier,
The fierce extremes of good and ill to brook
Impassive-fearing but the shame of fear
A stoic of the woods-a man without a tear.


It is to be regretted that those early writers who treated of the discovery and settlement of America, have not given us more particular and candid accounts of the remarkable characters that flourished in savage life. The scanty anecdotes which have reached us are full of peculiarity and interest; they furnish us with nearer glimpses of human nature, and show what man is in a comparatively primitive state, and what he owes to civilization. There is something of the charm of discovery in lighting upon these wild and unexplored tracts of human nature; in witnessing, as it were, the native growth of moral sentiment; and perceiving those generous and romantic qualities which have been artificially cultivated by society, vegetating in spontaneous hardihood and rude magnificence.

In civilized life, where the happiness, and indeed almost the existence, of man depends so much upon the opinion of his fellow men, he is constantly acting a studied part. The bold and peculiar traits of native character are refined away, or softened down by the levelling influence of what is termed good breeding ; and he practises so many petty deceptions, and affects so many generous sentiments, for the purposes of popularity, that it is difficult to distinguish his real, from his artificial character. The Indian, on the contrary, free from the restraints and refinements of polished life, and, in a great degree, a solitary and independent being, obeys the impulses of his inclination or the dictates of his judgment; and thus the attributes of his nature, being freely indulged, grow singly great and striking. Society is like a lawn, where every roughness is smoothed, every bramble eradicated, and where the eye is delighted by the smiling verdure of a velvet surface; he however who would study Nature in its wildness and variety, must plunge into the forest, must explore the glen, must stem the torrent, and dare the precipice.

These reflections arose on casually looking through a volume of early colonial history, wherein are recorded, with great bitterness, the outrages of the Indians, and their wars with the settlers of New-England. It is painful to perceive, even from these partial narratives, how the footsteps of civilization may be traced in the blood of the aborigines ; how easily the colonists were moved to hostility by the lust of onquest; how merciless and exterminating was their

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