A while he writ, a while he read, A while he learn"d the grammar rules.-- An indian savage, so well bred, Great credit promis"d to their schools.

Some thought, he would in law excel, Some said, in physic he would shine; And one, that knew him pa.s.sing well, Beheld in him a sound divine.

But those of more discerning eye, E"en then could _other_ prospects show, And saw him lay his Virgil by, To wander with his dearer _bow_.

The tedious hours of study spent, The heavy-moulded lecture done, He to the woods a hunting went, But sigh"d to see the setting sun.

No mystic wonders fir"d his mind; He sought to gain no learn"d degree, But only sense enough to find The _squirrel in the hollow tree_.

The shady bank, the purling stream, The woody wild his heart possess"d; The dewy lawn his morning dream _In fancy"s gayest colours dress"d._

"And why," he cried, "did I forsake My native wood for gloomy walls?

The silver stream, the limpid lake, For musty books and college halls?

"A little could my wants supply-- Can wealth and honour give me more?

Or, will the sylvan G.o.d deny The humble treat he gave before?

"Let seraphs reach the bright abode, And Heav"n"s sublimest mansions see:-- I only bow to Nature"s G.o.d-- _The land of shades_, will do for _me_.

"These dreadful secrets of the sky "Alarm my soul with chilling fear:-- "Do planets in their orbits fly?

"And is the Earth, indeed, a sphere?

"Let planets still their aim pursue, "And comets round creation run-- "In Him my faithful friend I view, "The image of my G.o.d--the Sun.

"Where Nature"s ancient forests grow, "And mingled laurel never fades, "My heart is fix"d; and I must go "To die among my native shades."

He spoke,--and to the western springs (His gown discharged, his money spent) His blanket tied with yellow strings, The shepherd of the forest went.

Returning to the rural reign, The Indians welcom"d him with joy; The council took him home again, And bless"d the copper-coloured boy.

Our author, brings his hero again upon the stage, under the t.i.tle of

THE SPLENETIC INDIAN.

"To the best of my recollection, it was about the middle of the month of August; we were sitting on a green bank by the brook side; the fox grapes were not yet come to maturity; but we were antic.i.p.ating the pleasure we should soon experience in eating some fine cl.u.s.ters, that at this instant hung over our heads in the tall shade of a beech tree; when, upon a sudden clamour raised by some young fellows, who were advancing rapidly towards us, the learned Indian sachem Tomo-cheeki, who at this time happened to be my friend and companion, seized me by the hand, and intimated a strong desire, that I should accompany him to his _wigwam_, situate at many miles distance in the wilderness.

"A request so unusual, and at such a sultry season of the year (it being now the height of the dog days), and to all appearance occasioned by so trifling a circ.u.mstance as the approach of a few noisy baccha.n.a.lians, could not but give me some surprise. I nevertheless accepted his offer, and we then walked on together westward, without saying a word, though not forgetting to kindle our pipes afresh at the first house we came to.

"We had no sooner entered the forest, than I began to be convinced, that all things around us were precisely such as nature had finished them; the trees were straight and lofty, and appeared as if they had never been obliged to art in their progress to maturity; the streams of water were winding and irregular, and not odiously drawn into a right line by the spade of the ditcher. The soil had never submitted to the ploughshare, and the air that circulated through this domain of nature was replete with that balmy fragrance, which was breathed into the lungs of the long-lived race of men, that flourished in the first ages of the world.

"At last we approached the wigwam, as I discovered by the barking of a yellow dog, who ran out to meet us. The building seemed to be composed of rough materials, and at most was not more than eight feet in height, with a hole in the centre of the roof, to afford a free pa.s.sage to the smoke from within. It was situate in a thicket of lofty trees, on the side of a stream of clear water, at a considerable distance from the haunts of civilized men. A young indian girl was angling in the deepest part of the stream, whence she every now and then drew a trout, or some other inhabitant of the waters. An old squaw sat at a very small distance, and, after cutting off the heads, and extracting the entrails, hung the fish in the smoke, to preserve them against the time of winter.

"The Indian and myself then entered the wigwam, and without ceremony seated ourselves on blocks of wood covered with fox skins. The furniture of his habitation consisted of scarcely any thing besides. The flooring was that which was originally common to all men and animals. I thought myself happy, that I had been permitted to come into the world, in an age when some vestige of the primitive men, and their manners of living, were yet to be found. A few ages will totally obliterate the scene.

"I now determined to teaze the Indian, if possible--"But for a man of your education," says I, "sachem Tomo-cheeki; to bury yourself in this savage retreat, is to me inexplicable. You who have travelled on foot no less than one hundred and seventeen leagues, till you reached the walls of Havard college, and all for the sake of gaining an insight into languages, arts, and mysteries; and then to neglect all you have acquired at last, is a mode of conduct, for which I cannot easily account--What! was not the mansion of a fat _clergyman_ a more desirable acquisition than this miserable hut, these gloomy forests, and yonder savage stream?--Were not the food and liquor belonging to the white men of the _law_ far superiour to these insipid fish, these dried roots, and these running waters?--Were not a _physician"s_ cap, an elegant morning gown, and a grave suit of black clothes, made by an european tailor, more tempting to your imagination, than this wretched blanket, that is eternally slipping from your shoulders, unless it be fastened with skewers, which are by no means convenient?"

"Pardon me," replied the Indian, "if all those blessings and advantages you have mentioned seemed nothing to my view, in comparison with these _divine solitudes_: opinion alone is happiness. The _Great Man_, who has chosen his habitation beyond the stars, will dispose of us as he pleases. I am under an obligation of pa.s.sing happily here that life which he has given me, because in so doing I serve and adore him. I could not but be sorrowful, were I to be removed for ever from this stream. Let me alone, white man; others shall make laws, and pa.s.s sleepless nights, for the advantage of the world; sachem Tomo-cheeki will leave all things to the _invisible direction_; and, provided he can be contented in his _wigwam_, the end of his existence is accomplished.

"But," continued he, "of what great value can that education be, which does not inculcate moral and social _honesty_ as it"s first and greatest principle. The knowledge of all things above and below is of inconsiderable worth, unconnected with the heart of rect.i.tude and benevolence.--Let us walk to the remains of an old indian town; the bones of my ancestors repose in its vicinity."--

"He had scarcely uttered these words when he seized his staff, and rushed out of the wigwam with a sort of pa.s.sionate violence, as if deeply agitated at the recollection of the past, present, and future fate of his countrymen.--I followed him with equal celerity. "But," said he, "it is in vain to grieve! In three centuries there will not be one individual of all our race existing upon the Earth. I lately pa.s.sed this stream, and it being swollen with rains at my return, I could not without the greatest danger cross over it again to my wigwam; the winds raged, the rain fell, and the storms roared around me. I laid me down to sleep beneath a copse of hazles. Immediately the unbodied souls of my ancestors appeared before me. Grief was in their countenances. All fixed their eyes upon me, and cried, one after the other, "_Brother, it is time thou hadst also arrived in our abodes: thy nation is extirpated, thy lands are gone, thy choicest warriors are slain; the very wigwam in which thou residest is mortgaged for three barrels of hard cider! Act like a man, and if nature be too tardy in bestowing the favour, it rests with yourself to force your way into the invisible mansions of the departed_."

"By this time we had arrived at the ruins of the old indian town. The situation was highly romantic, and of that kind which naturally inclines one to be melancholy. At this instant a large heavy cloud obscured the sun, and added a grace to the gloominess of the scene. The vestiges of streets and squares were still to be traced; several favourite trees were yet standing, that had outlived the inhabitants; the stream ran, and the springs flowed, as lively as ever, that had afforded refreshment to so many generations of men, that were now pa.s.sed away, never to return. All this while the Indian had melancholy deeply depicted in his countenance; but he did not shed many tears, till we came to that quarter where his ancestors had been entombed. "This spot of land," said he, recovering himself a little, "was once sacred to the dead; but it is now no longer so! This whole town, with a large tract around it, not even excepting the bones of our progenitors, has been sold to a stranger. We were deceived out of it, and that by a man who understood Greek and Hebrew; five kegs of whiskey did the business: he took us in the hour of dissipation, when the whole universe appeared to us but a little thing; how much less then, this comparatively small tract of country, which was, notwithstanding, our whole dependance for the purposes of hunting and fishing!----Here,"

continued he, sighing, "was the habitation of _Tawlongo_, one of our most celebrated warriors. He, in his time, could boast of having gained no fewer than one hundred and twenty-seven complete victories over his enemies; yet he was killed at last by an unarmed _Englishman_.

"Here, too, on the opposite side of the way, stood the house of _Pilaware_, the admirable; she had been addressed by thirty-three suitors of her own nation, but refused them all, and went off at last with an _irish pedlar_, for the sake of three yards of silver riband, and a new blanket. Yonder stood the dwelling of _Scuttawabah_, my immediate ancestor; he died for joy of having found a keg of rum, that had been lost by some western trader. May his joys be continued behind the western mountains--Recollection overcomes me--Let us return to the wigwam in the forest."

"As soon as we had reached this sequestered abode, the Indian once more sat himself down, and leaned his head upon his hand, melancholy enough, to be sure.

"The old squaw desired to know why he was so sorrowful--The _remedy_,"

said she, _is in your power_."--He then started up, as if suddenly recollecting somewhat, and cried out, "Existence is but a dream, an agreeable dream indeed, if we only choose to consider it as such.--Bring me that jug of strong cider; it will be my friend, when all others fail and forsake me--Choicest gift of G.o.d to man! and which the white people alone possess the art and knowledge of producing!"--He courteously offered me a share of his beverage; but I found it so intolerably sour, that I was forced to swear by all the G.o.ds of the Indians, I would not have any connexion with it.--He then pointed to the stream where the girl was angling, and said, with a peasant countenance that had brightened up for a moment, "Go; you are a _sober_ man; the clear waters are good for you; for my own part, this juice of the apple shall be sufficient."--Two hours now elapsed, without any one uttering a word.--The Indian had by this time drunk two large gallons of cider; and recollecting in an instant, he had signed away his lands and wigwam, some days before, for a _mere trifle_, he became at once outrageous; his rage heightened to an alarming degree of extravagance by the strong fumes of the liquor he had swallowed.--"_It is enough_," said he; "_my house and lands are departed: I will speak a word in favour of suicide_.

""Tis all in vain! These flowers, these streams, these solitary shades, are nothing to me. I shall not offend the spirit of truth when I say, they are odious in my eyes. Sixty times has the sun performed his journey of a year, since I was first struck with the beauty of his yellow rays. Could I be a witness of sixty yet to come, would there be any thing new, or which I had not seen before? It is high time we should intrude ourselves into the invisible abodes, when all things satiate and grow stale upon us here below. I will this very night enclose myself in my wigwam, and, setting it on fire, depart with the thin vapour that shall arise from the dried wood of the forest, when piled around me--No, no," continued he, tasting the remains of his cider "_there is nothing new_; all is _old, stale; and insipid_."

"At this instant an Indian trader alighted at the door. He appeared to have come a considerable distance, and now proffered to barter a keg of _french brandy_ for some beaver skins, he saw hanging out a post.

"French brandy!" cried Tomo cheekily "that must be something _new_."

"It is surely such," replied the wandering trader, "at least in this remote wilderness."

"I will taste it, by Heaven," said the Indian.

"But will it not prove the falsehood of your position and a.s.sertion,"

interrupted I, "that there is nothing _new under the sun? To him that exists through all ages nothing can be strange or novel; with the transitory race of man, the case is wholly different. Art and Nature are combined in perpetually composing new forms and substances for his use and amus.e.m.e.nt on the ocean of life_."

"The Divinity himself must surely reside in that precious liquor!"

exclaimed the Indian, after tasting it a second time; "take all my skins and furs; and when the dawn of the morning appears, return home, stranger, and bring a fresh supply of this celestial beverage. My existence had indeed begun to be a burden: I was meditating, to extricate myself by the shortest method. I have now learned wisdom, and am convinced, that it is _variety alone that can make life desirable."_

In order to understand the following, I must inform you, F---- had been telling the story of a love-distracted maid, somewhat similar to Sterne"s Maria. You will suppose her lately to have put an end to her existence.--

"We had not proceeded very far on our way, when we discovered a funeral procession advancing towards us, headed by the parson of the parish in which we were. He was a little man, dressed in black, with a scarf hanging over his left shoulder.--Upon inquiry, we found they were proceeding to a church about a league distant, where the corpse they attended was to be deposited.

"And to whom may this body belong?" said the _indian physician_, addressing the man who walked in the rear of the procession.

"It is the corpse of the unfortunate Marcia," replied the other, speaking low; "she died suddenly, yesterday morning, and is now carrying to be interred in the vault of her ancestors." We were much affected at this intelligence, as we had hoped to hear of her recovery, instead of her decease.

"At the request of my friend, the man in the white linen coat, the Indian agreed to attend the funeral along with us, and accordingly we all three fell in among the followers, and travelled on with a slow pace till we came to the scene of interment. The situation was wild and gloomy. Naked rocks, dark cedars, the head of a small lake, and the venerable tombs of the dead, completed the scenery.

"It was pity," said I, "to the singing clerk, who stood near me, "that Fate has so ordered matters, that this young creature should depart the world in so very extravagant a condition of mind. Though too many pa.s.s their whole lives in a state of insanity, it were to be wished, that, towards the evening, the clouds of phrensy might be dissipated, and the sun of reason set clear."

"The singing clerk looked full in my face, opened his mouth wide, and was about to make some reply, when silence was ordered, that the clergyman might p.r.o.nounce a speech over the body; but his reverence stumbled at the threshold: he had unluckily forgot his pocket Bible, and could not recollect his _text_.

"Cannot he say something applicable to the melancholy occasion," whispered the Indian, "without the formality of taking a _text_?"

"Were you to give him three worlds, each as rich as a dozen of the Indies," replied the clerk, "you could not get a word out of him on any other condition."