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2. Early in the morning, the man at the mast-head gave notice that three bears were making their way very fast over the ice, and directing their course towards the ship. They had, probably, been invited by the blubber of a sea-horse, which the men had set on fire, and which was burning on the ice at the time of their approach.
3. They proved to be a she bear and her two cubs; but the cubs were nearly as large as the dar They ran eagerly to the fire, and drew out from the flames part of the flesh of the sea-horse, which remained unconsumed, and ate it voraciously.
4. The crew from the ship threw great pieces of the flesh, which they had still left, upon the ice, which the old bear carried away singly, laid every piece before her cubs, and, dividing it, gave each a share, reserving but a small por-.. tion to herself. As she was carrying away the last piece, they levelled their muskets at the cubs, and shot them both 'dead; and, in her retreat, they wounded the dam, but not mortally.
5. It would have drawn tears of pity from any but unfeeling minds, to have marked the affectionate concern manifested by this poor beast in the moments of her expiring young. Though she was sorely wounded, and could but just crawl to the place where they lay, she carried the lump of flesh she had fetched away, as she had done the others before, tore it in pieces, and laid it down before them; and, when she saw they refused to eat, she laid her paws first upon one, and then upon the other, and endeavoured to raise them up.
6. All this while it was piteous to hear her moan. When she found she could not stir them, she went off, and, when at some distance, looked back, and moaned; and, that not availing to entice them away, she returned, and, smelling around them, began to lick their wounds.
7. She went off a second time, as before, and, having crawled a few paces, looked again behind her, and for some time stood moaning. But still her cubs not rising to follow her, she returned to them again, and, with signs of inexpressible fondness, went round one, and round the other, pawing them, and moaning.
8. Finding, at last, that they were cold and lifeless, she
raised her head towards the ship, and growled her resentment at the murderers; which they returned with a volley of musket balls. She fell between her cubs, and died licking their wounds.
9. What child can read this interesting story, and not feel in his heart the warmest emotions of gratitude for the stronger and more permanent tenderness he has experienced from his parents; while, at the same time, he feels his displeasure arising towards those who treat with wanton barbarity any of the brute creation!
THE VICTIM. AN INDIAN STORY.
A CHACTAW INDIAN, having one day expressed himself in the most reproachful terms of the French, and called the Collapissas their dogs and their slaves, one of this nation, exasperated at his injurious expressions, laid him dead upon the spot.
2. The Chactaws, then the most numerous and the most warlike tribe on the continent, immediately flew to arms. They sent deputies to New-Orleans to demand from the French governour the head of the savage, who had fled to him for pro
3. The governour offered presents as an atonement, but they were rejected with disdain; and they threatened to exterminate the whole tribe of the Collapissas. To pacify this fierce nation, and prevent the effusion of blood, it was at length found necessary to deliver up the unhappy Indian.
4. The Sieur Ferrand, commander of the German posts, on the right of the Mississippi, was charged with this melancholy commission. A rendezvous* was, in consequence, appointed between the settlement of the Collapissas and the German posts, where the mournful ceremony was conducted in the following manner :—
5. The Indian victim, whose name was Mingo, was produced. He rose up, and, agreeably to the custom of the people, harangued the assembly to the following purpose :—
6. "I am a true man; that is to say, I fear not death; * The English pronunciation is ren'de-vooz, the French is ron'do-voo.
but I lament the fate of my wife and four infant children, whom I leave behind in a very tender age. I lament, too, my father and my mother, whom I have long maintained by hunting. Them, however, I recommend to the French, since on their account I now fall a sacrifice."
7. Scarcely had he finished this short and pathetick harangue, when the old father, struck with the filial affection of his son, arose, and thus addressed himself to his audience :—
8. "My son is doomed to death; but he is young, and vigorous, and more capable than I to support his mother, his wife, and four infant children. It is necessary, then, that he remain upon earth to protect and provide for them. As for me, who draw towards the end of my career, I have lived long enough. May my son attain to my age, that he may bring up my tender infants. I am no longer good for any thing; a few years more or less are to me of small importance. I have lived as a man. I will die as a man. I therefore take the place of my son."
9. At these words, which expressed his parental love and greatness of soul in the most touching manner, his wife, his son, his daughter-in-law, and the little infants, melted into tears around this brave, this generous old man. He embraced them for the last time, exhorted them to be ever faithful to the French, and to die rather than betray them by any mean treachery unworthy of his blood. "My death," concluded he, "I consider necessary for the safety of the nation, and I glory in the sacrifice."
10. Having thus delivered himself, he presented his head to the kinsmen of the deceased Chactaw; and they accepted it. He then extended himself over the trunk of a tree, when, with a hatchet, they sev'ered his head from his body.
EXTRACT FROM THE SPEECH OF THE IRISH ORATOR
PHILLIPS, PREVIOUS TO PROPOSING AS A TOAst, at a PUBLICK DINNER IN IRELAND, "THE IMMORTAL MEMory of George WashingtON."
THE mention of America has never failed to fill me with the most lively emotions. In my earliest infancy, that ten
der season, when impressions, at once the most permanent and the most powerful, are likely to be excited, the story of her then recent struggle raised a throb in every heart that loved liberty, and wrung a reluctant tribute even from discomfited* oppression.
2. I saw her spurning the luxuries that would ener'vate, and the legions that would intimidate; dashing from her lips the poisoned cup of Europe'an servitude, and, through all the vicissitudes of her protracted conflict, displaying a magnanimity that defied misfortune, and a moderation that gave new grace to victory. It was the first vision of my childhood; it will descend with me to the grave.
3. But if, as a man, I venerate the mention of America, what must be my feelings towards her as an Irishman? Never, while memory remains, can Ireland forget the home of her emigrant, and the asylum of her exile. No matter whether their sorrows were real or imaginary; that must be reserved for the scrutiny of those whom the lapse of time shall acquit of partiality.
4. It is for the men of other ages to investigate and record it; but, surely, it is for the men of every age to hail the hospitality that received the shelterless, and love the feeling that befriended the unfortunate. Search creation round, where can you find a country that presents so sublime a view, so interesting an anticipation ?
5. The oppressed of all countries, the martyrs of every creed, the innocent victim of despotick arrogance or superstitious frenzy, may there find refuge; his industry encouraged, his piety respected, his ambition animated; with no restraint but those laws which are the same to all, and no distinction but that which his merit may originate.
6. Who can deny that the existence of such a country presents a subject for human congratulation! Who can deny that its gigantickt advancement offers a field for the most rational‡ conjecture! Who shall say that, when, in its follies or its crimes, the old world may have interred all the pride of its power, and all the pomp of its civilization, human nature may not find its destined renovation in the new!
7. For myself, I have no doubt of it; I have not the least doubt that, when our temples and our tro'phies shall have * Pronounced dis-cum'fit-ed. tji-gan'tick. rash'un-al.
mouldered into dust; when the glories of our name shall be but the legend of tradition, philosophy will rise again in the sky of her Franklin, and glory rekindle at the urn of her WASHINGTON.
8. Is this the vision of a romantick fancy? Is it even improbable? Is it half so improbable as the events which for the last twenty years have rolled, like successive tides, over the surface of the Europe'an world, each erasing the impression that preceded it?
9. Thousands upon thousands, sir, I know there are, who will consider this supposition as wild and whimsical; but they have dwelt with little reflection upon the records of the past. They have but ill observed the never-ceasing progress of national rise and national ruin.
10. They form their judgment on the deceitful stability of the present hour, never considering the innumerable monarchies and republicks in former days, apparently as permanent, whose very existence is now become a subject of speculation, I had almost said of scepticism.*
11. I appeal to history. Tell me, thou reverend chronicler of the grave, can ambition, wealth, commerce or her'oism secure to empire the permanency of its possessions? Alas! Troy thought so once, yet the land of Priam lives only in song? Thebes thought so once, yet her hundred gates have crumbled, and her monuments are as the dust they were vainly intended to commemorate!
12. So thought Palmyra; but where is she? So thought the countries of Demosthenes and Leonidas; yet Sparta is trampled by the timid slave, and Athens insulted by the servile Ottoman. The days of their glory are as if they had never been; and the island, which was then a speck, rude and neglected in the barren ocean, now rivals the ubiquity† of their commerce, the glory of their arms, the force of their philosophy, the eloquence of their senate, and the inspiration of their bards!
13. Who shall say, then, contem'plating the past, that England, proud and powerful as she appears, may not one day be what Athens is, and the young America yet soar to be what Athens was! Who shall say, that, when the Europe'an column shall have mouldered, and the night of barba*Pronounced skep'te-sizm. tu-bik'we-te.