cestors 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 passionate 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 passed 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 passed 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