On the solid land, or the heaving sea,

Dear warrior boy, like thee!

On, the victory, the victory belongs to thee!

God ever keeps the brightest crown for such as thou,
He gives it now to thee.

Young and brave, and early and thrice blest,
Thrice, thrice, thrice blest!

Thy country turns once more to kiss thy youthful brow,
And takes thee gently, gently to her breast,

And whispers lovingly, "God bless thee, bless thee now,
My darling, thou shalt rest!"

SPEECH OF RED JACKET.

[Red Jacket-Sa-go-ye-wat-ha, his Indian name, meaning "He keeps them awake"-was one of the most powerful chiefs of the Six Nations, the head of the Senecas, New York. During the Revolution his activity and intelligence acquired for him the friendship of the British officers, who, as a compliment or for services rendered, gave him a richly embroidered scarlet jacket which he wore with great pride, and from it was given to him his English name. Red Jacket was a man of great eloquence, and truthfully stated of himself, "I am an orator! I was born an orator!" In the summer of 1805 a missionary was sent to the Six Nations by the Evangelical Missionary Society of Massachusetts to plant a station among the Senecas. A council of chiefs was convoked to hear his proposals, and after two hours' consultation Red Jacket made reply.]

BRO

ROTHER, listen to what we say. There was a time when our forefathers owned this great island. Their seats extended from the rising to the setting sun. The Great Spirit had made it for the use of the Indians. He had created the buffalo, the deer, and other animals for food. He had scattered them over the country and taught us how to take them. He had caused the

earth to produce corn for bread. All this he had done for his red children, because he loved them. If we had some disputes about our hunting ground, they were generally settled without the shedding of much blood. But an evil day came upon us. Your fore

fathers crossed the great water and landed on this island. They found friends and not enemies. They told us they had fled from their own country for fear of wicked men, and had come here to enjoy their religion. They asked for a small seat. We took pity on them and granted their request. They sat down among us. We gave them corn and meat. They gave us poison in return. They called us brothers. We believed them, and gave them a larger They wanted more land; they wanted our country. Our eyes were opened and our minds became uneasy. Indians were hired to fight against Indians, and many of our people were destroyed.

seat.

us.

Brother, you have now become a great people, and we have scarcely a place left to spread our blankets. You have got our country, but are not satisfied; you want to force your religion upon You say that you are sent to instruct us how to worship the Great Spirit agreeably to his mind, and if we do not take hold of the religion which you white people teach, we shall be unhappy hereafter. How do we know this to be true? We only know what you tell us about it. How shall we know when to believe, being so often deceived by the white people? We understand that your religion is written in a book. If there is but one religion, why do you white people differ so much about it? Why not all agree, as you can all read the book?

Brother, we do not understand these things. We are told that your religion was given to your forefathers, and has been handed down from father to son. We also have a religion, which was given to our forefathers and has been handed down to their children. It teaches us to be thankful for all the favors we receive, to love each other, and to be united. We never quarrel about religion. We are told that you have been preaching to the white people in this place. These people are our neighbors. We will wait a little while and see what effect your preaching has upon them. If we find it does them good, makes them honest, and less disposed to cheat Indians, we will consider again what you have said.

THE BATTLE OF TIPPECANOE.

[The battle of Tippecanoe was fought November 5th, 1811, on the banks of Tippecanoe River, Indiana, now the village of Battle Ground, between the Americans under General Harrison and the Indians under a brother of the famous Tecumseh.]

A

WAKE! awake! my gallant friends;

To arms! to arms! the foe is nigh;
The sentinel his warning sends

And hark! the treacherous savage cry!
Awake! to arms! The word goes round;

The drum's deep roll, the fife's shrill sound,
The trumpet's blast, proclaim through night
On Indian band, a bloody fight.

Oh, haste thee, Baen! alas! too late;
A red chief's arm now aims the blow;

An early but a glorious fate

The tomahawk hath laid thee low.
Dread darkness reigns. On, Davies, on!
Where's Boyd and valiant Harrison,
Commander of the white man's force?
And Owen? He's a bleeding corse!

"Stand, comrades brave, stand to your post!
Here's Wells and Floyd and Barton; all
Must now be won or now be lost;

Ply briskly bayonet, sword, and ball.”
Thus spoke the general, when a yell
Was heard as though a hero fell;
And, hark! the Indian whoop again-
It is for daring Davies slain!

Oh, fearful is the battle's rage!
No lady's hand is in the fray,
But brawny limbs the contest wage

And struggle for the victor's day.
Lo! Spencer sinks, and Warwick's slain,
And lifeless bodies strew the plain;
And yells and groans and clang and roar
Echo along the Wabash shore.

But mark where breaks upon the eye
Aurora's beam! The coming day
Shall foil a frantic prophecy

And Christian valor well display.
Ne'er did Constantine's soldiers see
With more of joy for victory

Across the arch of heaven adorn

Than these the blushing of the morn.

Bold Boyd led on his steady band

With bristling bayonets burnished bright;
What could their dauntless charge withstand
What stay the warriors' matchless might?
Rushing amain, they cleared the field;
The savage foe compelled to yield
To Harrison, who, near and far,
Gave form and spirit to the war.

Sound, sound the charge!
Spur, spur the steed!

And swift the fugitives pursue;

"Tis vain! rein in-your utmost speed Could not o'ertake the recreant crew.

In lowland marsh or dell or cave
Each Indian sought his life to save,
Whence, peering forth, with fear and ire
He saw at last his town on fire.

Now the great Eagle of the West

Triumphant wing was seen to wave;
And now each soldier's manly breast

Sighed o'er his fallen comrade's grave.
Some dropped a tear and mused awhile,
Then joined in measured march their file;
And here and there cast wistful eye
That might surviving friend descry.

But let a foe again appear

Or East, or West, or South, or North,
The soldier then shall dry the tear
And, fearless, gayly sally forth.
With lightning eye and warlike front
He'll meet the battle's deadly brunt;
Come Indian, Briton-if arrayed
For fight, he'll feel a freeman's blade!

TO A PORTRAIT OF RED JACKET.

FITZ GREENE HALLECK.

OOPER, whose name is with his country's woven,
First in her files, her pioneer of mind-

A wanderer now in other climes, has proven
His love for the young land he left behind;

And throned her in the senate-hall of nations
Robed like the deluge rainbow, heaven-wrought,
Magnificent as his own mind's creations

And beautiful as its green world of thought.

If he were with me, King of Tuscarora!
Gazing, as I, upon thy portrait now,

In all its medalled, fringed, and beaded glory,

Its eye's dark beauty, and its thoughtful brow