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with brightness upon us. Our eyes are opened, that we see clearly; our ears are unstopped, that we have been able to hear distinctly the words you have spoken. For all these favors we thank the Great Spirit, and him only.

2. Brother, you say you want an answer to your talk before you leave this place. It is right you should have one, as you are a great distance from home, and we do not wish to detain you. But we will first look back a little, and tell you what our fathers have told us, and what we have heard from the white people.

3. Brother, listen to what we say. There was a time when our forefathers owned this great island. Their seats extended from the rising to the setting sun; the Great Spirit had made it for the use of the Indians. He had created the buffalo, the deer, and other animals, for food. He had made the bear and the beaver; their skins served us for clothing. He had scattered them over the country, and taught us how to take them. He had caused the earth to produce corn for bread. All this he had done for his red children because he loved them. If we had disputes about our hunting-ground, they were generally settled without the shedding of much blood.

4. But an evil day came upon us : your forefathers crossed the great waters, and landed on this island; their numbers were small; they found us friends, and not enemies. They told us they had fled from their own country, through fear of wicked men, and had come here to enjoy their religion. They asked for & small seat; we took pity on them, and granted their request, and they sat down among us.


gave them corn and meat, and, in return, they gave us poison. The white people having now found our country, tidings were sent back, and more came among us; yet we did not fear them. We took them to be friends; they called us brothers; we believed them, and gave them a larger seat. At length their numbers had greatly increased. They wanted more land; they wanted our country. Our eyes were opened, and we became uneasy. Wars took place; Indians were hired to fight against Indians, and many of our people were destroyed. 5. Brother, once our seats were large, and yours were small

. You have now become a great people, and we have scarcely a place left to spread our blankets. You have got our country, but, not satisfied, you want to force your religion upon us.

6. Brother, continue to listen. You say that you are sent to instruct us how to worship the Great Spirit agreeably to his mind, and that, if we do not take hold of the religion which you teach, we shall be unhappy hereafter. How do we know this to be true? We understand that your religion is written in a book. If it was intended for us, as well as you, why has not the Great Spirit given it to us? and not only to us, but why did he not give to our forefathers the knowledge of that book, with the means of rightly understanding it? We only know what you tell us about it; and, having been so often deceived by the white people, how shall we believe what they say ?

7. Brother, we do not understand these things. We are told that your religion was given to your forefathers, and has been handed down from father to son. We also have a religion which was given to our forefathers, and has been banded down to us, their children. It teaches us to be thankful for all favors received, to love each other, and to be united. We never quarrel about religion.

8. Brother, we are told that you have been preaching to the white people in this place. These people are our neighbors. We are acquainted with them. We will wait little, and see what effect your religion has had upon them. If we find it does them good, makes them honest, and less disposed to cheat Indians, we will then consider again of what you have said.

9. Brother, you have now heard our answer, and this is all we have to say at present. As we are about to part, we will come and take you by the hand; and we hope the Great Spirit will protect you on your journey, and return you safe to your friends.




1. WHITE man, there is an eternal war between me and thee! I quit not the land of my fathers, but with my life. In those woods, where I bent my youthful bow, I will still hunt the deer; over yonder waters I will still glide, unrestrained, in ту

bark canoe. By those dashing waterfalls I will still lay up my winter's store of food; on these fertile meadows I will still plant my corn. Stranger, the land is mine! I understand not these paper rights. I gave not my consent when, as thou sayest, these broad regions were purchased, for a few baubles, of my fathers. They could sell what was theirs; they could sell no more.

How could my father sell that which the Great Spirit sent me into the world to iive upon? They knew not what they did.

2. The stranger came, a timid suppliant, few and feeble, and

and says,

asked to lie down on the red man's bear-skin, and warm himself at the red man's fire, and have a little piece of land to raise corn for his women and children; and now he is become strong, and mighty, and bold, and spreads out his parchment over the whole,

“It is mine.” Stranger, there is not room for us both! The Great Spirit has not made us to live together. There is poison in the white man's cup; the white man's dog barks at the red man's heels.

3. If I should leave the land of my fathers, whither shall I fly? Shall I go to the south, and dwell among the graves of the Pequots ? Shall I wander to the west?—the fierce Mohawkthe man-eater-is my foe. Shall I fly to the east?—the great water is before me. No, stranger: here I have lived, and here will I die; and, if here thou abidest, there is eternal war between me and thee.

4. Thou hast taught me thy arts of destruction ; for that alone I thank thee. And now take heed to thy steps; the red man is thy foe. When thou goest forth by day, my bullet shall whistle past thee; when thou liest down by night, my knife is at thy throat. The noonday sun shall not discover thy enemy, and the darkness of midnight shall not protect thy rest. Thu shalt plant in terror, and I will reap in blood; thou shalt sow the earth with corn, and I will strew it with ashes; thou shalt


forth with the sickle, and I will follow after with the scalping-knife; thou shalt build, and I will burn; till the white map or the Indian perish from the land.




2. Todlin, tottering. 2. Stacher, stagger. 2. Flichtering, fluttering. 2. Ingle, fireplace. 3. Belyve, by-and-by. 3. Tentie, careful. 4. Spiers, asks. 4. Uncos, strange things. 4. Gars, makes. 5. Eydent, diligent. 5. Jauk, to trifle. 6. Hafflins, half. 7. Blate, bashful. 7. Laithfu', sheepish., 7. Lave, the rest. 8. Hawkie, cow. 8. Hallan, partition-wall

. 8. Hain'd, kept. 8. Kebbuck, cheese. 8. Towmond, a twelve-month 8. Lint, Lax. 9. Lyart haffets, gray locks. 9. Wales, selects. 9. Beets, increases. 1. NOVEMBER chill blaws loud wi' angry sugh;

The shortening winter day is near a close;
The miry beasts retreating frae the pleugh ;

The blackening trains o' craws to their repose ;


The toil-worn cotter frae his labor goes,

This night his weekly moil is at an end,
Collects his spades, his mattocks, and his hoes,

Hoping the morn in ease and rest to spend,
And weary, o'er the moor, his course does hameward bend.
At length his lonely cot appears in view,

Beneath the shelter of an aged tree ;
Th’expectant wee-things, todlin', stacher thro'

To meet their dad, wi' flichterin' noise and glee.
His wee bit ingle, blinkin' bonnily,

His clean hearth-stane, his thriftie wifie's smile,
The lisping infant prattling on his knee,

Does a' his weary, carking cares beguile,
An' makes him quite forget his labor and his toil.

Belyve the elder bairns come drappin' in,

At service out, amang the farmers roun’;
Some ca’ the pleugh, some herd, some tentie rin

A cannie errand to a neebor town :
Their eldest hope, their Jenny, woman grown,

In youthfu' bloom, love sparkling in her e'e,
Comes hame, perhaps, to show a braw new gown,

Or deposit her 'sair-won penny-fee,
To help her parents dear, if they in hardship be.
Wi' joy unfeign'd, brothers and sisters meet,

An each for other's weelfare kindly spiers :
The social hours, swift-wing'd, unnoticed fleet;

Each tells the uncos that he sees or hears.
The parents, partial, eye their hopeful years;

Anticipation forward points the view.
The mother, wi' her needle an' her shears,

Gars auld claes look amaist as weel's the new;
The father mixes a' wi' admonition due.



Their master's an' their mistress's command,

The younkers a' are warned to obey;
An' mind their labors wi' an eydent hand,

An'ne'er, tho' out o' sight, to jauk or play.
“An', oh, be sure to fear the Lord alway!

An' mind your duty, duly, morn and night!
Lest in temptation's path ye gang astray,

Implore lis counsel and assisting might:
They never sought in vain that sought the Lord aright!"

6. But, hark ! a rap comes gently to the door;

Jenny, wha kens the meaning o' the same,
Tells how a neebor lad cam o'er the moor,

To do some errands, and convoy her hame.
The wily mother sees the conscious flame

Sparkle in Jenny's e'e, and flush her cheek;
With heart-struck anxious care, inquires his name,

While Jenny haflins is afraid to speak; Weel pleased the mother hears, it's nae wild worthless rake. 7. Wi' kindly welcome Jenny brings him ben;

A strappan youth; he takes the mother's eye;
Blithe Jenny sees the visit's no ill-ta'en ;

The father cracks of horses, pleughs, and kye.
The youngster's artless heart o'erflows with joy,

But blate and laithfu', scarce can weel behave;
The mother, wi' a woman's wiles, can spy

What makes the youth sae basbfu' and sae grave,Weel pleased to think her bairn's respected like the lave. 8. But now the supper crowns their simple board;

The halesome parritch, chief o’Scotia's food;
The soup their only hawkie does afford,

That 'yont the hallan snugly chows her cood;
The dame brings forth, in complimental mood,

To grace the lad, her weel-hain'd kebbuck fell,
An' aft he's press’d, an' aft he ca's it good;

The frugal wifie, garrulous, will tell,
How 'twas a towmond auld, sin' lint was i' the bell.
9. The cheerfu' supper done, wi' serious face, .

They round the ingle form a circle wide;
The sire turns o'er, with patriarchal grace,

The big ha’-Bible, ance his father's pride.
His bonnet reverently laid aside,

His lyart haffets wearin' thin an' bare ;
Those strains that once did sweet in Zion glide,

He wales a portion with judicious care; And “Let us worship God!” he says, with solemn air. 10. They chant their artless notes in simple guise ;

They tune their hearts, by far the noblest aim;
Perhaps “Dundee's" wild warbling measures rise,

Or plaintive “Martyrs," worthy o' the name,
Or noble “Elgin” beets the heavenward flame,

The sweetest far o' Scotia's holy lays :

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