The younger, manifesting a more pliant disposition to the will of the colonists, was supported by them. He adopted a military dress, and was fond of the customs and conversation of the whites. The elder, strong in native eloquence, drew around him the strength of his tribe. Like Cyrus and Artaxerxes, the rival monarchs of Persia, separate interests awoke their ambition, yet not like them did they lift their hand against each other in battle. Kindred blood restrained the animosity which their partizans would fain have fomented; and their example is a reproof to more civilized combatants, who can not only forget that they had but one father, but even that " one God created them." At length the elder king paid the debt of nature, and though he had been wise and humane, yet among the adherents of his brother was no mourning. But death, as if determining that the grief should be general, smote the younger also, and they reposed in one grave. On the tomb-stone of the favourite of our ancestors, the following epitaph was inscribed. It was the production of a late celebrated physician of N-, whose memory is embalmed by excellence and piety, more than by his poetical talents.

"For beauty, wit, and manly sense,

For temper mild, and eloquence,
For courage bold, and things wauregan,
He was the glory of Mohegan."

The line of the royalty of this tribe became extinct in the person of Isaiah Uncas, who received a partial educa

tion at the seminary of President Wheelock, in Connecticut, but seemed not to inherit either the intellect, or enterprise, which distinguished the founder of that dynasty.

CHAPTER IV.

Haste ere oblivion's wave shall close.
And snatch them from the deep,
Muse for a moment o'er their woes,
Then bid their memory sleep."

IT has been mentioned that the tribe of natives, whose traditions we have partially gathered, retained amid its degeneracy, some individuals worthy of being rescued from oblivion. Among these, history has been most faithful in preserving the lineaments of their spiritual guide, the Rev. Samson Occom. He received instruction in the sciences and in the Christian faith, from the Rev. E. Wheelock, afterwards President of Dartmouth College. The sympathies of this excellent man were aroused by the ignorance of a race, at once rapidly vanishing, and miserably despised. Regardless of the censure which stamped him as an enthusiast, and a visionary, he commenced a school for them in Lebanon, (Connecticut,) about the middle of the eighteenth century, and by his disinterested efforts for their improvement and salvation, deserves an illustrious rank among Christian philanthropists. Occom was his first pupil, and his intellectual advances, and genuine piety, compensated the labours of his revered instructor. After a residence of several years in the family of his benefactor, he became the teacher of a school on Long Island, and endeavoured to impart the

rudiments of divine truth, to the Montauk tribe, who were in his vicinity. His piety, and correct deportment procured for him a license to preach the gospel to his benighted brethren. He travelled through various tribes, enduring the hardships of a missionary, and faithfully doing the work of an evangelist. His eloquence, particularly in his native language, was very impressive, and his discourses in English were well received, from the pulpits of the largest and most polished congregations in the United States. In 1765, he crossed the Atlantic, and was welcomed in England, with a combination of strong curiosity, and ardent benevolence, which were highly gratifying to him. Here his mind was enlarged by extensive intercourse with the wise and the good, with some of whom he continued to maintain a correspondence throughout life. At his return, he commenced the discharge of the duties of his station, with increased ardour, and an interesting humility. He delighted much in devotional poetry, and presented a volume of hymns, selected by himself, to his American brethren, which together with the letters which are preserved, evince his correct knowledge of our language, and the predominance of religious sentiments in his mind. His residence was not stationary until near the close of his life, but at the period of this sketch, he was with his brethren of the Mohegan tribe. They listened to his instructions with awe, and regarded him with affectionate interest. When in explaining to them the sufferings of a Saviour, his eyes would overflow, and

a more than earthly fervour pervade his features and expressions, they felt convinced that he loved what he imparted, and honoured his sincerity. But when he enforced the wrath of the Almighty against impenitence, his tones rising with his theme, and the terrours of the law bursting from his lips, they forgot the lowliness of his station, the subdued meekness of his character, and trembled as if they had heard rising among the mountains, the voice of the Eternal Spirit.

Robert Ashbow was the chieftain, the counsellor of the tribe. Descended from the royal family, he was tenacious of that shadowy honour; yet he who might decry such an empty distinction, could not long scan him, without perceiving that nature had enrolled him among her nobility. She had endued him with a noble form, and an eye, whose glance seemed to penetrate the secrets of the soul. His lofty forehead spoke the language of command, though his countenance when at rest wore a cast of gravity, even to melancholy, as if his habitual musings were among the broken images of other days. Yet his kindling brow, and the curl of his strongly compressed lip could testify the fiery enthusiasm of eloquence, or the most terrible emotions of anger. Some acquaintance with books had aided the vigour of his intellect, and he was fond of associating with the better class of whites, because he could thus gratify his thirst for knowledge. When the general government of the states had become settled upon a permanent foundation, Robert Ashbow was permitted to