Dr. Smith, in his View of the Hebrews, a clever and valuable work, tells us that an old Indian chief stated to a clergyman with whom he was conversing, that his forefathers had, not long since, possessed a book which they constantly carried with them, but having lost the knowledge of reading it, they buried it with an old chief of their tribe.

These circumstances, taken in connexion with the facts I have already stated, can hardly fail to convince a candid and impartial reader, that the American Indians are the last remaining descendants of the ten lost tribes of Israel; the evidence, on the point, appearing to be as strong as can well be imagined or described. The only really important objection, indeed, which has been urged to this supposition, is, that we find among them no traces whatever of the Sabbath,—an institution so peculiarly Jewish, that we can scarcely imagine it to have been lost; but when we remember that the very reason for which the Israelites suffered such grievous captivity was the non-observance of all the precepts of the law, (2 Kings xvii. 2—6,) and this, when they were surrounded by all the external semblances of their religion; can we wonder that such should have been, to a still greater degree, the case in a far distant country, and after having endured a captivity of a hundred years? The life of a savage, continually abroad on hunting and predatory excursions, and rarely at home for any continuous time, is peculiarly unfavourable for the retention of any institution such as that of the weekly Sabbath; so that, even had the Jews preserved it until their arrival in the continent, we may readily imagine how soon it would fall into disuse.

The Indian's notion of a future state is peculiar, poetical, and highly characteristic of the customs and habits of the people. They believe that the soul (of the immortality of which they seem to have no doubt) will, after death, repair to a vast hunting-ground, in the regions of the blest, and there spend the countless hours of eternity in the pleasures of the chase. Acting upon this belief, their custom is to bury with their important chiefs, a supply of hunting implements, that they may be prepared for a full enjoyment of these celestial delights; and, indeed, the favourite horse is not unfrequently killed for a similar purpose. Many among the more civilized and christian nations of the world, might draw a profitable lesson from this custom of the poor Indian, who thus prepares himself, so far as he is able, to fulfil what he believes to be the purpose of his Creator.

Nothing can be more erroneous, than the notion that the Indians depend entirely for subsistence upon the chase, or that they have derived the knowledge of agriculture which they possess from the Europeans who have settled among them. When General Wayne destroyed the settlements of the Miamies and Wyandots on the Miami river, in 1794, he says, in his despatch, "Never have I beheld, in any part of America, such immense fields of corn as possessed by these Indians ;" and though it is true that the tillage is now on a very small scale, and generally committed to the squaws, still the tribes depend partly on this for their subsistence.

Before any hunting excursion takes place, a council is held, in which the subject is submitted to the tribe, and their decision taken as to the place which shall be selected for the purpose. The principal chief first proposes a certain spot, as the best adapted, having been careful previously to ascertain the general wishes of the tribe, and this usually meets with a ready assent; but if any other locality should be proposed, the matter is discussed, and the opinion of the majority decides the question. These savages, indeed, set an example to their more civilized brethren, which might be imitated, on many occasions, with singular advantage. Each speaker carefully abstains from any uncourteous expressions towards his opponents; and the audience, believing that every one has a just right to his own opinions, however absurd they may appear, and however opposite to their own, give no evidence of disapprobation, but listen with patient and courteous silence to the arguments which he may have to adduce.

The skill of the Indians in the chase has been so often spoken of, and so highly praised, that nothing on this point can boast of novelty. Their power of using the bow is extraordinary, an arrow often passing entirely through the body of a buffalo, and falling on the other side, and in some instances, wounding another animal; a feat which, to one accustomed to the present style of European archery, is rather difficult of belief; but one which a short residence among this singular people will give many opportunities of witnessing and admiring. So much, however, has been said, and so ably, on this point, by Mr. Catlin, in his late valuable work on the North American Indians, and the public have become so well acquainted with the hunting customs of this singular people, through the medium of his interesting gallery, that I should be here trenching on already well occupied ground, were I to say more; but, to those who desire more copious information on

this branch of Indian customs, I can only recommend a perusal of the one, and a stroll in the other, as the best means of gratifying their wishes.

The social condition of the North American Aborigines is almost as much misrepresented and misunderstood as their general character; and we are so accustomed to look upon it as wretched in the extreme, that it is almost a hopeless task to endeavour to remove so general an impression. We are all accustomed to believe, and often and often has the assertion been reiterated by various writers, that among the Indian tribes, woman is looked upon only as a slave, a species of domestic animal, useful only as a labourer, and valued only for her activity and strength; while her more exalted duties, as the companion, the solace, the adviser of her husband, are entirely unknown. It is true, that she does not occupy so important a position in the social scale as is happily the case with us; but this is, in a great measure, owing to the mode of life which they pursue, and is only what might have been expected among a predatory and roving race; but the condition of the Indian squaw is by no means worse than that of the wife of a settler in the yet uninhabited portion of the Western States; while the latter, from having left the comparative luxuries of even the humblest home in the east, feels far more acutely the privations to which she is exposed. The Indian wife shares her husband's daily toils, prepares his meal, and provides for every want and desire; while she is as ready to share his joy when victorious, or his sorrow at defeat, as the most exalted of her sex in more favoured lands, or under a more refined system of social existence. As a wife, she is deligent and devoted; as a mother, kind, indulgent, and assiduous; what more could be said in her praise, or what greater testimony could be brought forward of her virtue and worth?

We may call the Indians bloody and revengeful; we may stigmatize them as cruel and unmerciful to their enemies; but we must remember, when we do this, how much of this they owe to American example-how much they have done to corrupt and destroy them. They have fearfully diminished their numbers, and are even at this moment proceeding with all good will in this noble work--the blotting out from the face of their soil those who are its rightful lords, and who have received in return for the lands they have relinquished, the bullet and the rum-bottle, both potent ministers of destruction and death. Nor can they urge in palliation that they have compensated for thus destroying the temporal

happiness of the Indian by any amelioration of his moral condition, for they have deprived him of his pure and simple faith, without giving him any other in its stead; they have, to use the words of Governor Cass, an American writer, "neither taught him how to live nor how to die!"

One of the most interesting scenes which it was my lot to witness in the United States, was a council of the Seneca Indians, at which I had the good fortune to be present in the Autumn of 183—; and which was held for the purpose of negotiating a treaty between the general government and the chiefs of the tribe,-once one of the most important in North America, and one of the Six Nations, which figure so largely in the early history of the Republic. The occasion was one of some little excitement and interest, for the opposition of the Indians to the treaty being very great, they were desirous of preventing, if possible, its consideration, and therefore burnt down the Council Lodge on the preceding day; but the U. S. commissioner, nothing daunted by this display of feeling, insisted that the meeting should be held in the open woods. Nothing could possibly be imagined more picturesque than the scene which was presented at the moment when he commenced his opening address. In the centre of a deep grove, deeply overshadowed, and almost shut out from the surrounding world by the thick and clustering foliage of the over-hanging trees, were the smouldering embers of a large fire, the universal accompaniment to Indian deliberation; around which were stretched, in every variety of graceful attitude, and attired in the most splendid style of native and savage finery, with pipe in mouth and tomahawk in hand, the principal chiefs, or sachems of the tribe, their eyes fixed on the commissioner, and their whole countenances betokening an earnestness and interest well befitting the occasion on which they were assembled. These occupied the circle immediately around the fire, while all around were scattered in groups the young men, the braves and warriors of the nation; the women and children skirting the background of the picture, and evincing, by their eager and watchful glances, almost as great an interest in the scene, as those who were more immediately concerned in it. It would be scarcely possible to imagine a more interesting or exciting occasion than this; even to those who were mere spectators, like myself. There, far removed from all sounds of civilized life, seemingly shut out, by the dark and impenetrable forest, from all communion with men, we were perfectly in the power of our savage friends, and in

danger of being sacrificed, at any moment, to their rage, should the insults which were heaped upon them by the commissioner, goad them beyond endurance, and render them unable any longer to restrain their indignation and rage: such circumstances were well calculated to lend a zest of excitement and interest to the

scene.

And yet there was a great admixture of melancholy in the feelings with which I regarded the picturesque group, as, leaning against an old patriarch of the forest, I surveyed the scene before me. There, scattered in dull and hopeless lethargy, upon that soil which was by right their own, I beheld one of the last remnants of a noble and powerful race, which, but little more than two centuries since, claimed the whole of this vast continent for their own, and ranged, free and unrestrained, through its wide and trackless woods. This very tribe, whose chief sachems reclined around the council fire, listening with patient submission to the recital of treaties which they knew would be broken, of conditions never to be fulfilled, might once, with one blow, have annihilated all that existed of the European race in the western world, and nipped in the bud the power which was, ere long, to destroy them; or even worse, to reduce them to an ignominious subjection. Could the red Indian of that day, have cast an anticipatory glance at the fate which awaited his descendants in a future age, he would scarcely have received and cherished with hospitality and kindness, the viper which waited only for increased strength to sting and destroy his preserver; he would scarcely have extended the hand of fellowship to that pale-faced race, which was, ere long, to scatter the council fires of his nation, to drive them from the graves of their forefathers, and banish them by sure, though gradual steps, to the furthest regions of the west. But, alas! the poor Indian did not learn the true character of the race he had sheltered till it was too late to resist, and he was then left to mourn in silent sadness over the departed glories of his race, to see the tall houses of the paleface rise on spots to him the most sacred, and the plough pass over the graves of his forefathers; to find the silent and shady grove, where he had first poured out his love-song to his mistress, profaned by the sound of the forge, and all the noise and turmoil of civilized life. And yet, because he dared to raise his hand in defence of these dear and hallowed scenes, we brand him as a murderer, a savage, a cruel and relentless foc.

There are some, however, who would rather be inclined to admire