nor the hopes of distinction, can afford to the Indian a ray of comfort, or the prospect of better days. He contem'plates the past as the returnless seasons of happiness and joy, and rushes to the wilderness as a refuge from the blandishments of art, and the pomp and show of polished society, to seek, in his native solitudes, the cheerless gloom of ruin and desolation. LESSON XVI. Story and Speech of Logan.-JEFFERSON. THE principles of society, among the American Indians, forbidding all compulsion, they are to be led to duty, and to enterprise, by personal influence and persuasion. Hence, eloquence in council, bravery and address in war, become the foundations of all consequence with them. To these acquirements all their faculties are directed. Of their bravery and address in war, we have multiplied proofs, because we have been the subjects on which they were exercised. Of their eminence in oratory, we have fewer examples, because it is displayed, chiefly, in their own councils. Some, however, we have of very superior lustre. challenge the whole orations of Demosthenes and Cicero and of any more eminent orator,-if Europe has furnished more eminent, to produce a single passage, superior to the speech of Logan, a Mingo chief, to Lord Dunmore, when governor of Virginia. And, as a testimony of their talents in this line, I beg leave to introduce it, first stating the incidents necessary for understanding it. In the spring of the year 1774, a robbery was committed by some Indians on certain land adventurers on the river Ohio. The whites, in that quarter, according to their custom, undertook to punish this outrage in a summary way. Captain Michael Cresap, and a certain Daniel Greathouse, leading on these parties, surprised, at different times, travelling and hunting parties of the Indians, having their women and children with them, and murdered many. Among these were, unfortunately, the family of Logan, a chief, celebrated in peace and war, and long distinguished as the friend of the whites. This unworthy return provoked his vengeance. He accordingly signalized himself in the war which ensued. In the autumn of the same year, a decisive battle was fought at the mouth of the Great Kenhaway, between the collected forces of the Shawanese, Mingoes, and Delawares, and a detachment of the Virginia militia. The Indians were defeated, and sued for peace. Logan, however, disdained to be seen among the suppliants. But, lest the sincerity of a treaty should be distrusted, from which so distinguished a chief absented himself, he sent, by a messenger, the follow ing speech, to be delivered to lord Dunmore. "I appeal to any white man to say, if ever he entered Logan's cabin hungry, and he gave him not meat: if ever he came cold and naked, and he clothed him not. During the course of the last long and bloody war, Logan remained idle in his cabin, an advocate for peace. Such was my love for the whites, that my countrymen pointed as they passed, and said, 'Logan is the friend of white men.' I had even thought to have lived with you, but for the injuries of one man. Colonel Cresap, the last spring, in cold blood, and unprovoked, murdered all the relations of Logan, not even sparing my women and children. There runs not a drop of my blood in the veins of any living creature. This called on me for revenge. I have sought it: I have killed many: I have fully glutted my vengeance. For my country, I rejoice at the beams of peace: but do not harbour a thought that mine is the joy of fear. Logan never felt fear. He will not turn on his heel to save his life. Who is there to mourn for Logan ?-Not one." LESSON XVII. Geehale-An Indian Lament.-STATESMAN, N. York. THE blackbird is singing on Michigan's shore As sweetly and gaily as ever before; For he knows to his mate he, at pleasure, can hie, When my skies were the bluest, my dreams were the best. The fox and the panther, both beasts of the night, And they spring with a free and a sorrowless track, I will go to my tent, and lie down in despair; This snake-skin, that once I so sacredly wore, Its spirit hath left me, its spell is now broke. Oh! then I shall banish these cankering sighs, I will dig up my hatchet, and bend my oak bow; Nor lakes shall impede me, nor mountains, nor snows;— They came to my cabin, when heaven was black: LESSON XVIII. * Fall of Tecumseh.-STATESMAN, N. York. WHAT heavy-hoofed coursers the wilderness roam, "Tis the hand of the mighty that grasps the rein, Ah! see them rush forward, with wild disdain, From the mountains had echoed the charge of death, The savage was heard, with untrembling breath, One moment, and nought but the bugle was heard, And nought but the war-whoop given; The next-and the sky seemed convulsively stirred, As if by the lightning riven. The din of the steed, and the sabred stroke, In the mist that hung over the field of blood, That steed reeled, and fell, in the van of the fight, Till met by a savage, whose rank, and might, The moment was fearful; a mightier foe *ch as in church. O ne'er may the nations again be cursed Gloom, silence, and solitude, rest on the spot, He fought, in defence of his kindred and king The lightning of intellect flashed from his eye, Above, near the path of the pilgrim, he sleeps, And the bright-bosomed Thames, in its majesty, sweeps LESSON XIX. Monument Mountain.-BRYANT. THOU, who would'st see the lovely and the wild Mingled, in harmony, on Nature's face, Ascend our rocky mountains. Let thy foot Fail not with weariness, for, on their tops, The beauty and the majesty of earth, Spread wide beneath, shall make thee to forget The steep and toilsome way. There, as thou stand'st, This highly intellectual savage, appropriately styled "king of the woods," was no less distinguished for his acts of humanity than heroism, He fell in the bloody charge at Moravian town, during the war of 1812-15. |