hey concluded, that he who had performed such
surprising feats in his defence, before he was captured, and since that
in his naked and unarmed condition, would, now that he was well armed
and free, be a match for them all, if they should continue the pursuit.
They regarded him as a wizard enemy, whose charmed life it was vain and
wicked to attempt. They, accordingly, buried their comrades, and
returned, with heavy hearts, to their homes.

MONICA,

OR

THE ITEAN CAPTIVE.

What glorious hopes, what gloomy fears
Have sunk beneath time's noiseless tide!--
The red man at his horrid rite,
Seen by the stars at night's cold noon,--
His bark canoe, its track of light
Left on the wave beneath the moon;--
His dance, his yell, his council fire,
The altar where his victim lay,
His death song, and his funeral pyre,
That still, strong tide hath borne away.

MONICA.

~"Speak not, but fly--
There are a thousand winged deaths behind,
Thirsting for blood. Hope, life, and liberty
Are all before; and this good arm is pledged
To guide thee."~

The grave of the Indian is a temple, a sort of gateway to heaven. Around
it linger the tenderest affection, the purest devotion of the surviving
friend. The grass and flowers that grow over it are never suffered to
wither. The snow and the rain are not permitted to remain upon it. The
least profanation of that sacred place would be visited with a more
terrible vengeance than an affront to the living. Nothing illustrates
more clearly the cruel injustice we have done to our red brethren of the
forest, by regarding and treating them only as savages, and delineating
them always and every where, as destitute of all the refined sympathies
of humanity--than this prevailing national characteristic, an
affectionate reverence for the dead, and a religious regard for the
sepulchres and bones of their ancestors. It touches one of the deepest
cords in the human heart. It springs from the very fountain head of
social and moral refinement. It links the visible and material, with the
unseen and spiritual world; blending all that is tender, and pure, and
subduing, in the one, with all that is bright, hopeful, and inviting, in
the other. Its existence in any heart, or its prevalence among any
people, is proof sufficient that that heart is not wholly hardened in
selfishness, and that people not wholly given