V y] IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 1.0 I.I Ui 128 1 2.5 |5o ■^" !!■■ I^ 1^ 12.2 ^ m m u K I 2.0 11:25 i 1.4 1.6 6" Photographic Sciences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580 (716) 872-4503 k /%^^,% "C- ians» IM NOVA-SCOTIA AND P. E. ISLAND. 4»%, .i ■**)» >Mi.. i By S. T. RAND. Being the substance of Two Lectures delivered in Halilax, in November, 1849, at Public Meetings held for liie purpose of instituting a , Mission to that Tribe. PUBUSHED UMOER THE DIRECTION OF THE CQMMITTEK FOR SUFER" ' INTENDING THE MISSION. ..^h. m •*.i ifisi; HALIFAX, N. S. PRINTED BY JAMES BOWES 5t SON. 1850. WaO!£L.,lL:Lii i n"-r i WiKTrr' mmtm it IMRODuCTION. The object of the following pages, is the spiritual and temporal good of the Micnaac Indians. They have been written for the purpose of arousing christians of every name, to the importance of carrying out, more faithfully than has ever yet been done, the design of the " great commission" — " Go teach all nations," "Go preach the Gospel to every creature." This commission has been in the hands of the Church for 1800 years. Every chris- tian is authorised by it to do all the good, and to attempt all the good, in his power, both to the souls and bodies of his fellow men, of every nation, of every rank, and of every condition. And this is, too, one of the first dictates of real piety. It is a serious fact, however, for which it is impossible to account satisfactorily, that this great com- mission has been, so far as relates to the poor Micmac, almost wholly overlooked by Protestants. They have been in our midst ; but they and we have been strangers. From our infancy we have been familiar with their mise- rable appearance, their poverty, their degradation, and their vices. They have been pitied, written about, and talked about. The philanthropist, the christian, and eve- ry lover of justice, must have often grieved for the wrongs they have sustained. Occasional and momeniary efforts have been made to promote their civilizatioL u id salva- tion. Wherever these efforts have been made, hey have to some extent been successful. But hitherto no syste- matic and persevering exertions have been made, to in- struct them in the true knowledge of salvation. The power of THE Gospel, " to save all those who believe," both from temporal and eternal ruin, has never been real- ly tried upon them. The question now brought before the christian public, for their decision, is, whether it shall be always thus? Whether we have any warrant for ■.*, INTROUL* TIO\. ovrrlodkiiig tlio Indian, in our ellorts lor a world s e,n- lightcntnent. and salvalioii 7 Wlintlior vvc can. us believers in the Iiord Jesns Christ, sec the renniaiits of this nation doomed to be deprived of their ni(;ans of existence, to fall victims to decay, and to be swallowed up in the vortex of ruin, into which our vices have helped to throw them; without making an elFort, in the strength of Omnipotence, to save them 7 Under such circumstances, could we dare to meet them at the Judgment Bar, in the great day of account. The christian public is beginning to awake to this mat- ter. We all wonder, and well we may, how it came to be so long neglected. But previously to detailing what has been done, or at- tempted, a few facts are to be stated, respecting the his- tory, customs, language, literature, and religious belief of this interesting but long neglected people. These facts have been chiefly collected from themselves, and from the observations of the writer, while mingling among them somewhat during the past three years. V icvers lalion to iall i^ortex them; tence, e dare ay of mat- rne to THE HISTORY, &c. or THE MICMAC TRIBE OF INDIANS. Br at- e his- liefof facts m the them I . ( CHAPTER I. THE HISTORY OF THE MICMACS — THEIR EARLIEST HISTORY — FIRST DISCOVERY OF THE WHITES — WARS WITH THE MOHAWKS. The earlier history of the Aborigines of America, is involved in total darkness. Prom whatpart of the world they migrated, and at what period, is unknown. There are various and conflicting theories on the subject, but nothing satisfactoiy. Some have concluded that they came from Asia, and some, from omer portions of the globe. Some have conducted them, by a northern journey, across Behring's Straits ; and others have found tlie means of accommodating them Avitli a more di- rect and easier transit But it is now generally admitted that of their earlier history, as inhabitants of this western world, we know just no- thing. But we can go back beyond this. Their earliest history we can trace with certainty. An authentic record traces it for some hun- dreds of years. Their ancestors were bom, and grew up, and labored, and suffered, and died, along with our ancestors. At that period the progenitor of the degraded inhabitant of the most wretched wigwam, dwelt in the same hut, ate from the same dish, gathered pebbles from tlie same brook, and slept on tlie sauie strand, with the progenitor of Britain's Queen. Their genealogical line runs side by side for ages. Aye, and the ancestors of the Indians, and our ancestors, and tliose ol' all the nations of the earth, were once crowded together, with beasts and reptiles, and living things that had breath, of every kind, in one vessel, and floated over the billows, and were preserved together from the common destruction, when the flood of waters " covered all the high hills which were under heaven, and every living substance which was upon the face of the ground, was destroyed from the earth, and Noah only remained alive and those that were with him in the ark." The Micmac can therefore boast of ancestry as ancient and as noble as the proudest of Adam's race. He is indeed our brother ; for the Bible teaches us that " God hath made of one blood all the nations of men to dwell upon the face of the earth, and hath fixed the bounds of their I I' y •^ |^TM e ' -* s-rg' .= y; TIIK MItMAI IMHA.NS. '.{ ImliilalKjiis." And it id iiistriiPtivo to know that as (loop a inyflt«rv 'Jj:iii<;s ovor tlio oiirlicr jXTtioii nf tin; l.lstory of tiioaL iirituiii, as timt uliioh rcRts iipoii Ainfii("i,i!Mtl tliit tlio Miu-'iont iiiliubitiuits ofl^iiirliind \(.'ry rniu'li rrMMiiMcl flio lii(liiui:< oftlio woHtcrii world. 'I'liny lived in iniHoral)in ciiliiiin, in thr' niidHt of t^Ioomy forcsfs ; tlioy cnjTiifrod in foro- cioiis warn; llicy |);iiiito(l lli(!ir bodies, inxl drorfHcd in nkinH. Thoir (•iiiol's iittaitiif'd llin JiomH ofcaltlo to their heads, hh the Indian chief of tho far west does to tiii.s Uuy, the horns of the buffalo to bin; they wor- HJiippcd iiideous idols, mid oflored human Hacriltcea. Thn well-Knowu tidvire ol' CicenM tViciid, not to iMirchn.sn bis slaves from iuiion winter, tvho had is com- isted of spring-, 3 break •arty of I it tlie dreanj, ed that overed the top of it Such a dream invariably portended war. Annoyed with his comrade, who was also a brave, because he would not jelieve that any revelation had been made, seeing he had received no intimation of it himself, from tlie Great Spirit, Ababejit would not disclose the coming event to any of them. They Jay down as usual, and were soon asleep ; but he kept watch, gun in liana, seated in the hinder part of the wjg- wam, during the live-long night. The war party was very hirge. Some delay in their operations was occiisioned by tlie brealving up of the ice, which made it difficult for them to cross the river. They crossed, however, and drew up around ihe Avigwam, just as the day was breaking. Ababejit knew all their movements, and just as several guns Avere raised in the doorway, he struck his comrade with the breech of his gun, and said to him, kivedabekw nusra nuuchnse, ' we are all killed, now get up.' At that instant the Mohawks tired. The girl was just in the act of springing up, and was shot dead. Ababejit, bein.cr wide awake, was not hurt. The bullets could not penetrate his body ; but rattled and fell to the ground. Had his companion been awake his body would also have been mipervinus. I3at, alas ! for hin unljelief, and envious ambition ! He was but half awake, and therefore one of his legs was shot away. Had he been asleep he would have been kill- ed ; had he been fully awake he would have sustained no injury at all. The Mohawks having discharged their pieces, rushed upon the ' camp.'' Three of their braves attempted to force an entrance, and in their eagerness wedged up the door. Ababejit sent a bullet through the heart of one — for, be it observed, a brave can kill a brave, though no one else can. The surviving two t;prung upon him, seized hhn, and attempted to bind him, that they might lead hhn home as a captive, and enjoy the luxury of torturing and burning him. But the Micmac had no notion of gratifying them in this way. A desperate struggle ensued — a struggle for life and death. The report of the guns had not awa- kened the two boys ; but the scuffle aroused and alarmed them. 'Who is this attacking my stepfather ?' cried the eldest. ' We are all killed,' exclaimed the old man. The boy drew his knife and sprang to the rescue. The two Mohawks were instantly dispatched, and the old man was free. " But the other Micmac chief was not idle. He had lost one leg, but he had another left ; and tlie perfect use of his arms. His courage • and strength being superhuman, remained in all their force. He had seized the tomahawk, and taken his station by the door, where he made quick dispatch of , all who attempted to enter ; and singing the death- song as he smote them down, he tossed their lifeless bodies to the back port of the ' camp.^ Ababejit had left his lance, tlie day before, sticking in a tree, at some distance. He bolts out of the ' camp,^ rushes through tlie midst of his enemies, and makes for this weajion. Three men seize him, and nearly overpower him ; but uniting artifice witli strength, he disengages himself, and again darts forward towards the tree where his lance is. Once more he is seized; and once more he is fiee. The weapon is now in his hands ; and he turns upon his foes. He fought like a tiger maddened with rage. Terrible was the slaughter that en- sued. Samson with his jaw-bone, levelling the Philistines, heaps upon heaps ; an Achilles or a Hector, deal-ng death among their foes ; or the B / r\ nr 10 THK MICMAC INDIANS. sword of Mecliael ' felling squadrons at once,' would scarcely gam by the comparison, could but a Homer or a Milton tell tlie tale. But fresh combatants closed in upon him, as those in front gave way. He at length grew weary in the work of death. He announced himself at the door of the camp, and was permitted to enter. He sat down and took breath. His comrade still continued his song, killing every man who attempted to enter. Ababejit now directs the two boys to keep quiet until he should have gone out and engaged tlie enemy again. Then they were to creep out carefully at the back part of the wigwam, and make all haste down to tlieir settlement, at the mouth of the river, and give the alarm ; that the warriors of tlieir tribe might hasten to the rescue. They obeyed ; but were discovered and pursued. Ababejit gave chase to the pursuers ; but they were younger and swifter upon the foot than he. But he calls in the aid of magic. The terrible war yell arrests them. As he utters it they are deprived of all power ; tliey cannot move a limb. He kills them ; but he has scarcely turned his face again towards the warriors who surround the ' camp,' when he espies another man running towards the boys. • Ula aleyu,' he cries, " ■ for vmvJ^ r ' Ula chenum,' ' here's a man for you. * Let those This poor fellow shares of course the fate of the ' come this way.' children alone.' others. " But now the boys are frightened, and dare not leave the old man. They beg of him to go on with them to the settlement, and not return to the camp. But they hear the two women shrieking for help. Their mother is crying out, ' Where is Ababajit ? He promised me he would stand by me and defend me to tlie last.' ' Must I leave your mother,' he says to the boys, ' to be killed by the Mohawks.' But the cries of the mother, and the remonstrances of the father, are vain. Self-preser^ vation animates them, and he concludes to protect the future warriors, rather than tlie women. ' Lay it up for them,' says the boys, ' and avenge it at a future day.' They go away home together, leaving the wounded brave, and the women, to their fate. A general onset is now made by the Mohawks upon the wigwam, which is torn to pieces, and scattered in every direclion. Ababejit's wife and the man with one leg are dispatcJied and scalped; and a tomahawk is raised over the head of the other woman, when a chief cries out, ' Neen n'tabitem,' ' she shall be my wife.' This decides her lot and she is spared. " The Mohawks now earefuUy collect all their slain, and hide them under the shelving bank of the river. They then carry off all the plun- der and secrete it in the woods on the top of a mountain. Ababejit soon returns at the head of a party of waniors. There lie the dead of their own party, scalped of course, and everytliing valuable has been carried off. They search long and anxiously for the Mohawks ; but in vain. The latter kindle no fires in the daytime, lest the smoke should betray them. But before they dare venture forth their provision is all spent, and they have grown so thin in flesli, that their rows of teeth can be distinctly seen through their lantern cheeks. The Micmacs have now given up the search and returned home. The snow is gone, the river is clear of ice, aind the Mohawks having first built a sufficient number of canoes, have started for home. But just at this time tlie hunting party of Micmacs, who had gone up the River the previous r 9 / i ^'••M^ THE MUMAC IiVniANS. II Autumn, and who liad been ensfiiged in huntinjj nil winter, wore also returning home in their canoes, laden with the product of their labors. They met on a large lake, just as each party \vas rounding a point. They were thus in close quarters before either party could be disco- vered by the other. The Micmacs recognised the captive woman in the chief's canoe, and readily divined what had happened. No hostile demonstration was, however, made by either party. They met and Ka- luted each other on apparently the most friendly temis. The Micniac chief proposed to his brother Mohawk, that as they might never see each otlier again they should land and spend the night together. He consented. But no one slept during the night. Each j)arty, and each individual, very naturally mistrusted that under tliis display of friend- ship, there lurked a design of mischief. The sagacious Mohawk took care that his worthy brothers should have no conversation with the captive at his side. But they out-genenilled him. Busily preparing for the night's lodging, they were moving in all directions, when, just in passing, some one whispered in her ear, * Ukchenumumok ?' ' Where is your husband?' ' Chelautok,' is as liastily replied, — 'he is slain.' This was sufficient. Vengeance is resolved on. " Unluckily for the Mohawks their chief had left his kettle some dis- tance down the river, the previous day. The sun had scarcely risen, when he, with his stolen wife, (it is thus she is designated in the tale,) launches his canoe, and goes back in quest of this important article of wigwam furniture. Now then is the Micmac's opportunity. ' Prepare the fattest and choicest pieces,' says he to his boys, 'and give your brothers their breakfast.' Witli appetites sharpened by long fasting, they eat enormously. The expected result ensues. They aro soon stretched on the ground asleep. ' Now prej)are your guns', is the order given by the wily chief. No sooner said than done. Each war- rior selects his victim. The deadly weapon is raised ; deliberate aim is taken ; and one volley lays every Mohawk dead. But the work yet is only half accomplished. The Mohawk chief who is a hi-ave, and possessed of superhuman powers, still lives, and is more to be dreaded than hundreds of the ordinary grade. It is well knoAvn tliat there is but one among the Micmacs who can kill him ; but one that ho would , dread to meet ; but one that he would even deign to fight in single encounter. This is the chief himself; and should lie be killed, woe be to the rest of them. Now then for a specimen of Indian tactics in warfare. Half of the living Micmacs e.xchanged dresses with the dead Mohawks ; then launched their canoes, and commenced sporting upon the smooth waters of the lake ; while the dead men were placed on the bank, and carefully adjusted so as to give them the appearance of being alive, looking at the others. The party on shore, and the party on the lake, would seem by their dress to be made up of each tribe. The Mo- hawk chief had found his kettle, and was leisurely impelling his canoe back against the stream, when he was startled by the discharge of fire- arms. ' Matundimk .'' he exclaimed, — ' there is fighting !' and onward darted his canoe. But when he came in sight he perceived his own men, as he supposed, mingled with the others, moving about in the greatest harmony, occasionally discharging their guns, and following each dis- charge with shouts and roars of laughter; while another party were \i % r V4 THE MICMAC INDIANS. reclinincr leisurely upon the bank, looking on. '■Mogua malunJtnuk; pabolUjik,^ said he to the woman. 'They are not lighting; they are only at play.' But ns he a])prouched the shore, he observed that tliose on the bank never stirred, nor even moved their heads. He suspected all was not right. He had, however, but little time for reflection. The Micmac chief had secreted himself near tlie landing place. Seve- ral of his men had run down to tlie water, as if to meet them. ' Turn the canoe, side to the land,' they cried to tije woman. She did so. The Micmac fired ; but missed his man. The canoe was capsized ; the woman thrown into the water ; and away went the Mohawk, swim- ming.below the surface until he was far out in the middle of the lake. The story gravely asserts, and I shall not take upon me either to change or modify it, that it was two hours before he came to the top ! that he then came up ' in the shaps of a /oo?i,' gave two or tliree screams after the manner of that bird, to let them know, I suppose, Avhere he was ; and then dived again, continuing as long below the water as before. ' Quick ! launch the canoes ;' shouted the Micmac chief; and away they Avent to the search. No one could see him but the chief, but he was^soon moving about among the canoes, searching for his equal, and scorning to lay hands on those of ordinary rank. His proximity was indicated by the occasional capsizing of a canoe ; but no one was hurt. At length the Micmac chief discovered him, and aimed a deadly blow at him with his spear. But he missed him. And now there are no more canoes upset. Agaui he approaches the chief's canoe, swimming under water, and invisible to all eyes save to those of the chief. — Again he is struck at, and again missed. ' Now,' says the chief, stepping forward into the bow of the canoe, ' I have but one more chance,' for it seems the ' tliird time is the trying time' with them, as well as with more civilized nations This 'third and last time' soon comes ; and now he is successful. * He is running off with the line, spear and all,' exclaims the triumphant chief. The men begin to search for him, supposing him to be dead somewhere near. ' He'll not die in the water,' says the chief. ' He will take to the shore as fast as possible. Let us follow him.' They obey ; and, sure enough, there he is, wounded but not killed. The young warriors are for rush- ing upon him at once ; but the chief restrains them. ' Should he kill one of you,' says he, ' he would be just as well as ever.' No one must approach him but the the chief, and he soon dispatches him. " And now occurs another fearfui act in the tragedy. ' Come, bury your husband,' they say to the rescued woman, alluding to the one who had been killed by the Mohawks. So they convey tlie dead Mohawk chief a little distance from the shore. The woman takes a knife and plunges it into his breast. She then takes the scalp of her murdered husband, whieh the Mohawk had been carrying off, and buries it deep in his breast. "1 must sum up the remainder of the tale in a few words. The woman is carried home ; marries again ; accompanies her husband and his two brothers on a hunting excursion. She remains alone during the day, watching the eamp, and taking care of the venison, while the men are hunting. One day she is startled by the barking of her little (Jog. She looks up and sees the alders all in motion, for some distance. Thej part) takei she • lost seal] hea{ tlie ter, cam Vi «•««< THE MICMAC IMMANSI, V3 They are still as soon as /lit; dog jjives the tikirm. Slie thinks it a war party. The men, on returning uttneiiin^'', will not believe her. .She takes her child, and withdrnwr some distance tVoui the e unp, wlioip she remains for the night. When slio awakes, after daylijilit, shn lins lost her scalp ; her child is killed; and llie 'l.ree men' are dend and scalped, just where they had laiii down to sleep. She binds up hop head; returns to the settlement, and gives the nlarn\ When they see the state of her head, thej give credit to her story. The warriors mus- ter, and go in quest of the enemy. But mogua kesimtnwadigul, ' they mnnot track the enemy.^ " Pool Jacob would not consent to my publishing this tale, with his name appended, lest the paper might find its way into Canada, and the Mohawks get hold of it and be displeased. Poor fellow ! he need not have been alarmed, and now he is where it can give him no unea- siness. :U CHAPTER II. the customs and manners of the micmacs — their ancient cus- toms — modified by the neighborhood of the whites — an Indian's idea of the whites — domestic habits — a wedoi.nu in charlottetown the wiuwam rules of etiquf.tte — their devotional habits. All the Indians of Norlh America, except the Esquimaux, strikingly resemble each other, in their features, their languages, and their man- ners and customs. These are, of course, all modified by the approach of civilization. Any treatise on the customs of any of the tribes of Canada, or New England, when they were first discovered, wUl apply equally to the Micmacs. Our business, at present, is with the existing generation. In many respects they are now diflferent from what they once were. Formerly they dressed in skuis, and painted their bodies, adorned themselves wrtli shells, and feathers ; used bows and arrows, stone axes, and stone arrow heads ; lived chiefly by hunting and fish- ing ; and delighted in war. They have now very extensively changed not only the material of which their clothing is made, but also tlie fashion ; adopting that of their white neighbours. The latter part of this statement is more particularly applicable to the men than to tlie other sex. They now make baskets, buckets, and barrels, and beg. In some places they till the land on a very limired scale, and dwell in houses. Drunkenness is fearfully prevalent among them ; though not so much of late years as formerly ; and other vices resulting from the proximity of what we proudly call " civilization ;" a civilization which too often seeks its own interest and gratification, regardless of either the temporal or spiritual interests of others ; caring for neither soul or body. But while we mourn over some of these changes, there arc others which call for different emotions. There are no wars with bor- dering tribes. No ambitious chieftain gams immortal fame by pursuing \.. ]( •I'lli: AllfMVC INDIANA". for iiioiitlis his piiPiiiy, wny-Iiiying liini, niul killiiit; him. The Micmnr I'lilerdoes not. reckon niiKHio- his saknmoundvl, or regalia, the scalps of his slaiigtiteretl foes: antl tliere are no torturintrs and burnings of pri- soners. Cliiefs are, hoAvover, duly elected. The Indians assemble on such occnsioila to {jive their votes, ahd any one who knows any just cause why the candidate should not be elected, is at liberty to state it. ( -ouncils too are held, to which ten different tribes, extending from ('ape Breton to Western Canada, send their delegates ; and they seem to consider the affair as important as it ever was. The mystic dances, too, of the ancient Indians, are not wholly omitted. Part of the cere- monies of their great annual religious festival of St. Ann's day, consists of the tmgubaltimk, and neskouwadijik, the "feast" and "mystic dance" of the sakaivachkik, " the Indians of olden times." At the proper time a chief comes out of a camp and sings a singular tune, and dances a singular step, and is responded to by a singular gnmt from the assem- bled crowd. And they assert that during the ceremony the body of the dancer is impervious to a musket ball; but woe betide the audacious wight who might venture on the experiment of attempting to shoot him. But we pass to their social habits. In few places are tlie principles of order, "a place for every thing, and every thing in its place ; a time for every thing, and every thing in its time ; a station for every one, and every one in his station ;" more fully carried out than in the Indi- an's wigwam. One unacquainted with their customs, would not suspect this. He looks in upon the beings in human form — " caricatures of humanity," as he possibly considers them — and every thing is so differ- ent from his own ideas of order, that he may suppose that all is, in rea- lity, in as much confusion as it appears to him. Little does he suspect that the tittering and chattering, going on among the youthful members of the group are probably at his own expense, occasioned by his appa- rent ignorance of good breeding. "Well," said an Indian, who was assisting me in translating Luke 14, " Well, I would like to read that to some of the Scotchmen. I think they might learn a little manners from it." He referred to verses 7 — 11, where Our Saviour gives direc- tions for the exercise of humility and courtesy. Paul's habitation hap- pened to be in the neighborhood of a Scotch settlement ; but men of any nation would need some knowledge of Indian etiquette, as well as the " Scotch people" in order to avoid giving offence, or being laughed at, on visiting a wigwam. " When they come to our camps" said he, " they neither know where to go, what to do, nor what to say ; and they commence asking questions, ' what is this ? what is this ? what is this ?' We say nothing to them about it ; but we speak of their ignorance and ill-manners among ourselves." " They think us about on a level with the beasts," he continued, " but in reality an Indian thinks as much of his camp, as the Governor does of his palace." In speaking of the customs of domestic life, it may be as well, for the sake of preserving some degree of method, to conmience where do- mestic life commenced, in Paradise at the wedding. According to their traditionary tales, very little ceremony, bevides a fenst, occurred in ancient times, when a man received his wife. The old people had the disposing of their daughters. If the young man's suit was favora- bly received, the father of the girl thus addressed him as he entered the the IV TUB MICMAC I.NDIANS. lo i the "camp," *■'■ kulakumu^md hHIuhuI," "Come up to the back part of the camp, my son-in-law." Tliis settled tho matter. A J'eiv.st was thou prepared ; all the neighbors were invited ; they ate and drank ; danced ; and then engaged in various sports, and tinally dispersed. Tlio young man then took his bride home with liim. They now, of coin-so, call in the aid of the ceremonies of the Catholic Clnnch. The wigwam is a curious structure. No little skill is displayed in its erection. The frame is Hrst raised and fastened The rows of bark are carefully put on. In the whiter it is lined in the inside witii spruce boughs, and a thick coating of the same material put on the outside, to prevent the cold winds from entering. Boughs are neatly spread down inside "the camp," forming an admirable substitute for carpets, cushions, and beds ; and the doorway, in winter, is also partly closed with them, placed so as to spring back and fortli as you pass and repass. A piece of a blanket hangs over tlie doorway. Every post of the wig- wam, every bar, every fastening, every tier of bark, and every appen- dage, whether for ornament or use, has a name ; and all the different portions of the one room, their appropriate designations and uses. The fire occupies the centre. On each side is the kamigwom. There sit, on the one side of the fire, the master and mistress ; and, on the oiher, ihe old people, when there are old people in the family ; and the young women, when there are young women, and no old people. The wife has her place next the door, and by her side sits her lord. You will never see a woman setting above her husband, — for towards the back part of the camp, the kutakumuk, is up. This is the place of honour. To this place visiters and strangers, when received with a cordial wel- come, are invited to come. " Kviakuinagttal, upchelasc," they say to hun, " come up toward the back part of the wigwam." The children are taught to respect their parents. Many a white family might take a lesson from them in this respect. The rod is applied unsparingly, to tame their rebellious spirits, and teach them " good manners." They do not speak disrespectfully of tlieir parents. The ordinary word for being dnmk, katheet, a child will not use when stating that his father or mother is in that state ; but he says wdopskeet, a much softer terra— though it is not easy to express the diflference in Englisli. They do not pass between their parents and the fire, unless there are old people, or strangers, on the opposite side. The inmates of the " camp" have their appropriate postures as well as places. The men sit cross-legged, like tire Orientals. The women sit with, their feet twisted round to one side, one under tlie other. The younger children sit with their feet extended in front. To each of these postures an appropriate word is applied. The first is chenumu- bcutiy I sit down man-fashion, i. e., cross-legged. The second is, miW- kulugunabase, I sit down with my legs twisted around. The third is, sokwodabase, I sit with my feet extended. When a stranger, even a neighbor, comes into the wigwam of ano- tlier, if it be in the day time, he steps in and salutes tliem. " Kwa" is the usual word of salutation, resembling both in sound and signification the Greek salutation kaire ! hail ! Should it be in the night or even- ing, this is uttered while standing outside. In that case the response is, ' Kwa Avenin kel.' ' Who art thou.' Yon irive vour name. And if i I I H if 10 THK MtlMAC I.NDIANS. tliey know you, and are g'lnil lu boo you, you are invited in at once. It* tlioy either know you not, or care nut for you, they again ask, ^'' KofTwa jiau'olumunf "Wliat is your M'ish?" Voii must then, of coinsc, do your errand, and go about your business. VViien you enter, in the day time, you will not "go and sit down in tiie highest room," or the " inost lionoruble seat," — tliat in to say, tf you are a well-bred Indian, you will not; but you will make a pause at the lowest place, the place next the door. Tho nuistor of the camp will tlien say to you, " «/)c/ie/(Me," " come up higher." It was this striking coincidence between their notions of politeness, and the instructions of Our Soviour in Lake xiv. that led my friend Paul to utter his amusing observations, respecting the rudeness of his wliite neighbors, "the Scotchmen." As soon as the visiter is seated, the head-man of the "camp" delibe- rately fills his pipe ; lights it ; draws a few whiffs, and then hands it to the other. If there be several, they pass it round. Conversation goes forward. All tho new and strange things, are enquired afler, and related, and the greatest respect is mutually shown. When the busi- ness of eating is going forward, all who are in the wigwam assist. To withdraw during the process of cooking, would be rudeness. It would be a most disreputable thing not to invite a stranger to partake ; it would be a grievous offence for him to refuse. There are usually a crowd of neighbours in every " camp" at meal time, when it is known that there is food there ; and what tliere is, is divided among the whole. It may require a visit to several " camps" in succession, to obtain a full meal. I have reason to believe that this hospitality is more the result of custom than any extraordinary generosity. Measures are sometimes adopted to evade it ; and they do not hesitate to say they are tired of it, when it has been exacted beyond due bounds. The women are still accounted as inferiors. They maintain a respectful reserve in their words when their husbands are present. " When Indian make bargain, squaw never speakum." Thus was a merchant's lady once cooly, but pointedly, reproved, by an indignant son of the forest, when she objected to her husband's giving him his full price for his feathers. She sometimes heard the remark afterwards from a quarter nearer home, perhaps to her profit. The Indian woman never walks before her husband, when they travel. The men at table, are helped first. When one comes into your house for a cup of water, he drinks first himself, and hands it next to the other man, and last of all to the woman. When she is passing from one part of the wigwam or canoe to another, however crowded it may be, she must not step over a man's feet. Such a " step" would be deemed the grossest insult, and wonld probably be avenged by such an application of his foot as would send her reeling, and teach her to be more careful in future, nor must she ever step across his fish spear. His mechanical imple- ments, of whatever kind, and whatever work he may be making, are all as important in this respect as his feet . A woman must never step across them. " Take up your feet," she will say to him when she wishes to pass : or, " take up your spear," or " your work," if she cannot well get round them. This he does, and she goes on. The Indian is lazy, and improvident. He cannot understand the necessity of laying up a supply for the future. While he has the means I i\ / THE MICMAC INDIANS. 17 1 at once, iguin ask, then, of you enter, at room," well-bred lest place, lay to you, )inci(lence iir Soviour nervations, otchmen." )" delibe- lands it to ition goes ifter, and the busi- am assist, eness. It > partake ; usually a is known the whole, obtain a more the isures are say they laintain a 5 present, lus was a indignant ? him his ifterwards in woman I at table, of water, d last of wigwam not step est insult, 8 foot as in future, al imple- g, are all ever step »'hen she 16 cannot stand the tie means he liv.;s like a princo ; aiul when lie Ins it not lio dvxvi witliout. lie can bear Imntrer and cold, and neglect, witlioiit ropinlni;. Jliit lio !iiid much rather be well-fed, and warm, and kindly troiitiMl. I have not discovered a word in the linipnajre cither f(jr pntlcnai or Impnlinice. A Frenchman, who speuke l\IiciiKLC well, juid Kiisf!i.sii I)ctter, iissiircd me that there are no siicli tonus in tlio lin^fii^io'o, and that iui Indian never " gets out of patif-nco,'' and is novor anxioiw chout tlr.? fiiluro. He often appears stupid, and vacant, wiifii it aris'js merely iVom his not understanding you. Could you addrcs.^ him in his own toujjuo, you would see his countonunco liylit up, and find tliil lio has an eye tliat can flash, a heart tliat can beat, and a soul that can bo stirred. lie loves excitement. Hence his inveterato fondness for tobacco, tra, and what is infinitely worse, strong drinks. An exciting eniiiloymoiit rouses him. However ho may dislike clioppiiig wood and ]io('iiig pota- toes, he has no objection to the chase, ile makes buckets and baskets, and carries them to town on his own back, because he iriust do so or starve. But let a shoal of porpoises licavo in .sii^ht, and llicn sco him. All other business is suspended. Tiio women and ciiildren line- tlic bank. The men gird on their belts, overliaid their gims, got ready their ammunition, launch their canoes, and away, away, with the fii'ood of an arrow, towards tlie scene of attraction. The very dogs catch the enthusiasm, and amidst the din of women's voices, and children's .sliouts, they yelp and howl in most melodious concert. And wliat if tiiey kill nothing! They do not in that case return cursing their stars, and uttering imprecations against tiie fish or themselves for having hafl their run for nothing. Not tlioy. Canoe after canoe returns. The women are again at their work ; the children at their ])lay; the dogs lie down in the camp and snore; the men light their pipes; and you go quietly home. Such a scene t lately v-itnessed at tlie Strait of Canso ; and I would not for a trille have nussed it. And they can be moved on other occasions. They can raise tlieir voices in anger. They can describe an exciting scene, with every muscle in motion, and v/ith gesticulation so j)erfect, that you would scarcely need to understand their language, in order to know \\ hat tliey are telling. And the Indian mother loves her babe, nurses it as care- fully, and cherishes it as fondly, as any niotlier ; and weeps as bitterly when it dies. And so does tlic fither. He will kiss his little daugh- ter, and sing to her, as sjje presses her tiny lips to his "uktunrhceju" •'yotir dear little mouth," with nil the aUbction iniaginahle. And his little son comes bounding to meet hun when he returns home, climl)s over his head, and hangs upon him ; and both f.itiier and son appear to enjoy it, for all I can see, as much as tliose of any other nation or rank. And I have been affected in hearing a sick Indian refer to the hard- ships his poor wife had to suffer, during a severe winter, while he was unable to do anytliing himself, and she had been obliged to cut the wood, and travel tlirough the deep snow, until she was " siicl nepk,^^ " almost dead." And I was still more affected when his aged, widowed mother, related to n)e, after his death, how feelingly he hiid referred, in his last moments, while taking an affectionate farewell of his little ones, to my kindness, as he called it, in visiting them, and interesting myself in their behalf. Poor fellow! Mav (iod Almighty take care of the / 18 THi: MICMAC INDIANS. little orphans nnd bless tlioin! Hen.' may be mentioned their exer- cises of devotion. Thoy roguliirly say their prayers; attend mass; {^0 to confession, and cross thomsolves. Every morning and evening, and on Sundays and Holidays, they assemble in their Chapel, when residing in its noighborhood, or in the wigwams, when far away from the Chapel, and perform their devotions. Ono person is appointed to lead. They are summoned at the proper hour, by an individual shouting at the top of his voice, and calling them to come to i)rayers. The greater part of the service is sung, or rather, chanted. They have tenor, bass, and treble voices ; and, save and except a most disagreeable " nnsal twang," thoir singing is not unmelodious. They sing respon- sively, each pnrt chiming in at the proper tune. They shift their position several times during the performance, which lasts for nearly an hour ; at ono time, sitting on their heels and holding up their heads ; at another, bending forwards ; and thoy conclude with an act of pros- tration, bending forward, and touching their foreheads to the ground. Then, if in the Chapel, tliey " bow to the graven images," or pictures, and slowly retire. And they also repeat their private devotions, and cross themselves before retiring to rest at night, and immediately after rising in the morning. They always take oft their hats and cross them- selves when they eat. In their prayers there are many repetitions. They address the Trinity ; and call on Jesus {Sasus) to have mercy upon them ; they invoke the Virgin Mary, and the Saints ; repeat the Creed and portions of the Commandments, and say the Lord's Prayer. They have also Psalms and Hymns, and parts of Scripture history. " And could you tell them this," said a young Indian, who was assisting me in translating portions of the New Testament, " I think they would attend to it ; for as far as they know, they do." And my young friend proposed it, as a capital plan, that I should translate the Gospel into Micmac, and tell them that the Bishop had done it, so that they would receive it without hesitation. '• And do you think," said I to another, " tliat were I to preach in your language, the Indians would come to hear me." " Come ?" said he, " to be sure we would ; we would com© a hundred miles to hear you." i 1 CHAPTER in. THE MICMAC LANGUAGE. The language of the Indians is ver_, remarkable. One would think it must be exceedingly barren, limited in inflection, and crude. But just the reverse it. the "'fact. It is copious, flexible, and expressive. Its declension of Nouns, and conjugation of Verbs, are as regular as the Greek, and twenty times as copious. The full conjugation of one Micmac Verb, would fill quite a large volume ! In its construction and idiom it differs widely from the English. This is why an Indian usually speaks such wretched English. He thinks in his own tongue, and TKK MICMAC IMUUMi. I 'J fl|)f:ik» ill ours; ami folidws tlie natural order of liis own rirr;inj;('M)i'iU. Uo couiiiiitH sucli bluMiJers as the following : " Fivp hunilKui imisnua.sli killum my I'atlicr." " Long time ngo, wiien first Indians makiirii (iod;" for, " my father killed five hundred muskrats;" and, " when (lod first made the Indians." Tliero aro fower elementary hjounds in iSIicnian than in English. They have no r, ami no ^" or v. Instead of r they say /, in such foreiyn words as they adopt. And droll enonph work they sometimes make in translating back and forili, from one ianguage to the other, and in attempting not to c(Miiound ;• ami /, whiit; h])caking English. The name of an hour is in Micmao the same as that of an owl, {koofiooiptcs) because when they first attempted to say it, they had to say oit/, and then they could tliinkof thenatne of that nocturnal bird in their own tongue, more readily than they could recal a Joreign term. And Mr. Lord is called Elsuhhidai/gun. "the Ramrod,'^ because Peter Joe drops the r in Lord, and changes the r in rod into /, which thus becomes the same as the former — lod. Taking it for granted that it is ihe same word in each case, we translate it accordingly. There is no Article in Micmac. The Verb To Be, is " Irregular," and is never used for the purpose of connecting a subject with its predicate. They have a dual number, like the Greek. They express the different Persons and Numbers by the termination of the Verb, and like the Greek, have a great number of Tenses. There are also some words in the Language, which resemble Greek. The Micmac word Elkmi, an Indian, is n(tt very different from Ellen, a Greek. F.lhnu a^if, he speaks Micmac, is strikingly like the Greek Ellcncsd, be will spe:ik Greek. But in other respects the language resembles the Hebrew. Especially in the " suffixes" by which the Personal Pronouns are connected in the Accusative Case, with the Verb. There are words evidently derived from the English and French ; but wcllac, I am ivell, appears in so many compounds, and occurs in some form so constantly as to make the iiri- jyession that it is original Micmac. The following are the Personal Pronouns. Neen, /; Keel, Thou; Neggnm, //e and , and / ot'ilic iiniiiniate, {'hanuin A w,\{\ \ i li" /iii/n mk, wmw. Soon, u cranberry; xoonul, ctixt\' burriea. TIm; Adji'rtive«, ProiioiiiiH, and N'orbn, uro varied lo agreo in (lender. * KulooHit nl/if, a preily woman ; ka/oosit rhenium, a |»roUy man. I5ut kithilk koom/tin, a [irotly stone. Natiiek is emphatically the ivord in Micmac. Whole sentences, nnd ItMiij ones loo, occur constantly, formed wholly of Verbs. All Adjectives of the Animate (lender, are real Verbs, and are conjugated through Mood and Teii.se, I'erson and Number. There being no such thing as the Verb f 7'> fie used as a copula, the copula is in the Adjec- tive itself. 1 know not how to dintiiifriiish the two ideas, a good ntan, and, tlic nuni is <,rooil. I'lven the Nu/ncrols are Verbs. And any Noun can assume the form and nature of a Verb without any difficulty. The foil(»wing are the Numerals: Na-ookt, One ; Ta/i-boo, Two; S<:cst, Three ; Na-oo, Four ; Nairn, Five ; UsHookum, Six ; Ellooigguii' nuk, Seven ; ODguinmoukhin, Eight ; Ptukoonaluluk, Nine ; M7/7h, Ten. The Indian can count' as fur as he pleases. The prevalent notion that he can only count (tjn, is an error, ll is true, lie enumerates by icns, as all other nations do ; and often, like the rest of mankind, uses his fingers in counting ; and ho happens to have, as others have, jiftt that number of these convenient appendages. Naoukt-inskak, is another word for ten. Tah/iDoliiskak, Iwaniy, Nasainskak, thirty. Naoo-inskak , forty, &c. Th6 above are used when counting objects, whether Animate or In- animate. IJut when expressing a number, as three apples, or, three men, the Indian uses a dillercnt lermination. Thus: nasiskulwcnjoo-soonul, three apples ; nasijik chenumook, three men. This is a second word for three. 13ut tins variety a|)plies only to three, and ten. Tahhooseyrk there are two of us. Tahhooscyok, there are two of you. ^aboosijik, there are two of them. Taboos/Jik abijik, two women. Taboogul kum- oojul, two trees. An Indiiin once boasted to me of the variety of his language, and affirmed that he had at least two words for every idea. " Always, everything, two wfys me speakum," said he. But this is not literally true ; though I will not affirm that it is not as coirect as some of the " General Rules " we meet with in other Languages. *Compare kaloosit, with the the Greek kalos, prclty. tThey have a Verb corresponding to the Verb To Be, but it always denotes place. Aywn, I am here. Aik uiffwomk, he is there in the wigwam. / TIIK MHMA<; IMMANS. Of , Two ; M'tiln, A spcoiinflii of'tlic (lonjiiurniiMi (tl'ii \ rrlt iinidl lio (mvcii. [t riiiisl lie 1)11 n liiiiitt!ti scale. I pn-iiiiMrt lliai llu-v havu \\u- Imlicaiivc. Iiii|)t'ruliv»'. Siihjiiiictiv«t, I'otentiiil, ami litfiniiivti Nlootli, and in llio Indicaiivf. ilu; InriiiM of rA ivn Tmsr.i .' 'I'hey liiixf tlm Aclivc, Passive, ami MiildN* Voices; and liy a hiitilil vari.itioii id the lennmalioii, iliey add to, mku i'nMii, and vary llie orij;inal idea, aliuimt < dli sly. In order that the inllf-tions may l>e disUn^m.^/ird fnini llie root, I Imvo ehoeeri a word which ha^ in < m udopted (miu the Mojijhitli. li iotliu miU to ii'itniss, in the sense o[' to :, " ' tcstinimii/. INDK'ATIVI •Witnews-awe. Witnesa-awin. Wiltie8.s-uwit. WitneMsawtiyek. Witnessaweekw. VVitnessaweyok. Witnessawijik. Witnessawoollcyck. Witnessawofdleekw, Witnessawoolteyok. 3, Witncssawooltijik. *The nnmber and person licing innrkpd liy llic terininnlion, the J'rnnfnmn nro seldom used with llic verb, except tor emphusis— tiien it would he .\ccn iriliicsn- awe, &c. IMPKUFECT TENSH. Sing. I. 2. 3. Dual. 1. 1. 2. :i. Plural \. 1. ", isioon. 11 NSK. I witness. 'I'hou witnessest. lie witnesses. He and I vvilne»<^. 'I'hou and i witness. Yon witness. I'hey witness. Sing. 1. Witnessaweap. 2. Witnessawcep. 3. Witnessawip. Dual 1. Witnessaweyepup. 1. Witnessaweegoop. 2. Witnessaweyopup. 3. Wilnessawibunik. *3. Witnessawibuneek. Plural 1. Witnessawoolteyegup. 1. Witnessawoolteegoop. 2. Witnessawoolteyogup. 3. Witnessawooldibunik. 1 witnessed. Thou didst witness. lie witnessed. He and I witnessed. Tiiou and I witnessed. You witnessed. They witnessed. They witnessed. They and we witnessed. You and we witnessed. You witnessed. They witnessed. Tliey witnessed. I Thou wilt, &c. * 3. Witnessawooldibuneek. *This second form of the irdpera. dual and plural is used if you arc speaking of absent persons. If they are present you use the fust form. FUTURE TENSE. Sing. 1. Witnossawedes. I will witness. 2. Witnessaweduks. 3. Witnessawedou. Dual. 1. Witnessawedesenen. 1. Witnessaweduksunoo. 2. Witnessawedoksup. 3. Witnessawedak. Plural 1. Witnessawooltedesenen. 1. Witnessawoolteduksunoo. 2. Witnessawooltedoksup. 3. Witnessawooltedak. « \ \ yv THii MicMAc lymxya. W These aro ilio principal Teiisps. 'I'liey use uii AuxiHury Verb for llie rusl. 'I'liis is :i piirt of the Verb kcsedn, I fiiiisii. 'I'liis pr*!lixed to the Present, fornris tlie Perfect; thus: Kvse ivitncssawe, I have been witnessing. A'cs kesc witncssawc, I hiive witnessed ; that is, I have done witnessing. Prefixpfl to liie Imperfect it forms the Pluperfect. Kese wifnessaiccap, I hati Ijeen vvilnessing. Kcx kcse ivitnessmvcap, I had wit- nessed (i. e. I had fiiiishod witnessing). Prefixed to the Future it forms the Second Future, or Fiiliire Perfect. Kcsc witnessnwcdes, 1 shall have witnessed. In the Imperfect and all these Tenses which are formed from it, there are Intcrrogaticc forms. Witnessaweua? Was I wit- nessing? Witnessaweesup? Wast thou witnessing? &c., &c. This makes up in ail, the/o/7«.v of eleven Tenses. .'V curious feature of tlie language i:, the double negatioe, and this extends to Nouns and Adjectives, as well as to Verbs. It dctubies tho labor of learning the conjugation, as it consists in placing a negative before the word, and then changing the termination. Thus Witncssmce I witness. Moo icitnessawe I do not witness. Moo loitnessawikto Ha does not witness. Tiiey have a remarkable facility for compounding words. Here again there is a resemblance to the Greek. The particular mentioned last before this, reminds one also of the double negative sometimes in that language. The terrible long words of the Indians, are compounds, and while they lengthen words, they shorten speech, and render it more effective. These seem to be common to all the Indian dialects. Cotton Mather said tiiey looked as though they had been growing ever since the confusion of Babel ; a remark which, perhaps, contains as much jthilosophical truth as it does wit. The following specimen occurs in their Prayerbook, in the account of the " Last Supper." It contains fourteen syllables, and when spelled with English letters, can be made, without much exaggeration, to occupy forty characters. Najdejemouweeoolowguoddullaolleedissuneega, " They were going to eat supper together.'^ In the Prayerbook, written in symbols, one small character, represents this formidable word. It is compounded of several by taking their principal parts, and dovetailing them into one. The roots are tied together, and they become one long tree. Some people are astonished to hear ns speak of the Grammar of the Micmacs. They did not suppose these people had any such thing, or that they ever trouble themselves about "Orthography, Etymology and Syntax." Nor do they. They are like tho man, who beginning to learn late in life, expressed his astonishment on ascertaining that he had been speaking in prose all his life, without knowing it. Grammar is the " art of speaking and writing a language correctly." But what is it to speak or write correctly ? It is not just this, " to speak and write like those who understand and speak the Language best?" Were the English Language spoken no where but in Devonshire, then all the the rules of English Grammar would have to be constructed in accordance with that fact. The way in which words are pronounced in that place, would be the correct mode of pronunciation. Their manner of construct- ing sentences, would form our Rules of Syntax. And so of any other language, or any other place. Now the best usage of Micmac, is the only usage which prevails. And although they have neither Grammars i \ THK MIC.MAC INfilANS. as IS I wit- This nor Iiexicons, in nsc among them, yet ihey have hiplier amhoiily, oie on v\ liich these, wherever they exist, are haaecl, the Micmac n.fus lix/uevf/i, ihe-dulUonty of xhe best vsage. And it is interesting to hear them a])- peal to this authority. '* They dont say it so," you will be tohi, when you mispronounce a word, or construct a sentence impropeily ; or, " 7L>t «a," " that is it :" " tdckelusultijik,^^ " that is the way they speak" wlieii you succeed in expressing yourself correctly. You will not catch thoiii confounding the Dual with the Plural, the Animate Gender with tho Inanimate, the Present Tense with t'le Past or Future ; nor the Positive form of words, with the Negative. Some diversity it is true, exists in the Language as spoken in different places. It extends merely to the use and pronunciation of a few words. The Indians of Cape Breton, amuse themselves occasionally at the expense of the Nova Scotint.s ; and are themselves laughed about in turn, by the latter party, for their im- proper or uncouth utterances; and the Indians on Prince Edward Islanil and at Miramichi, are as susceptible of the ludicrous, as their brethren, and as conscious of their own superiority. And I confess it requires some nerve to endure being laughed at to one's face, even by a company of Indians. To hear them catch up your bad pronunciation, or awkward sentence, and repeat it from one to another amidst roars of laughter, inclines you sometimes to read them a lecture on "good manners." But you may as well make the best of it. It is not in human nature, learned or unlearned, civilized or savage, for a word in common i!se to be pronounced differently from what one has always been accustomed to hear it, without its attracting notice, and provoking a smile. I now ge- nerally get out of the difficulty by taking advantage of a lull in the storm of ridicule, and then saying to them, in Micmac, " When an En- glishman speaks Indian, the Indians laugh; and when an Indian speaks English, the Englishmen laugh." This turns the tables upon them, puts them into a good humor with themselves and with me ; and makes them a little more cautious. I close these remarks on their language by a few sentences of the tale related in Chapter II, interlining a very literal translation, in order to show their method of arranging their words. As they have no Article, this also is neglected iu the translation, except where it is implied in the Verb. Na meskek udun bopkak. Neduguledijik chenumuk Now great Indian settlement down a river. Go a hunting men toguak tuchu mugu ankuouwa kelulk. Petouwcdajik. Ababejit Autumn then now fur good. They go up the river. Ababejit ak wedabala nenkadijik kudiiga ; nadal etuldugulijik. Ababejit and his comrade stop halfway ; there they go a hunting. Ababejit u'tabtiemul seguskwol ; naselije unejuntna. Sikwa tuchu seboo his wife a widow ; three them her children. Spring then river elodasijik Ababejit ak wedabala tan kogua nabadudich nauk- bring down to Ababejit and his comrade what things they kill one tebuga, eskumatumedich kakimetpegasin sebooa. winter, they wait for its breaking up river. Nothing would be more unfair or absurd than to translate good Mic- mac into bad English, were we professedly acting as an interpreter or translator. But the abovf is piven for the purpose ulrrady specified. t i 24 TUi: MICMAC I.XDIANS. Kiifrlisli rendered literally into IMictnac would l)e as unintelligible and ridiculous to tluim, as the above appears to ns. Some knowledge of the idiom c»|" iheir language is essential in order to understand them wlien speaking English. CHAPTERJV. LITF.mTURE OF THE MICMACS — TUF.IR MF.THOD OF WRITING — TIIEIK SYMUOLIC PRAYER-BOOK — THE SCIENCES — EXCELLENT UUIDES — THEIR TRADITIONS. And what can be meant, it may be asked, by the Literature of the Micniacs. We have been in the habit of looking upon them as misera- ble, ignorant, stupid looking beings. We have been aware tliat there have never been, to any extent, schools established among tliem, and that no effort, except on the smallest scale, has been made by the whites, to teach them. We have treated them almost as though tliey had no rights, and as if it were somewhat doubtful whether they pven have souls. And have they a Literature ? By what effort of imagina- tion can it be made out ? And truly the term must be taken with some restriction in its meaning. They possess, however, some knowledge of the Arts and Sciences. They have a book which they read. Some of them can write both English and Micmac in a very fair hand. Some of them have a knowledge of arithmetic. An instance has occurred in Prince Edward Island, of an Indian who prided himself on being able to add up the longest and most complicated sums, as rapidly as the most expert accomptant. They are in the constant habit of correspon- ding among themselves by letter. I have obtained a couple of letters, written by an Indian who has been several years at Quebec ; one addressed to his father, and the otlier to the chief in Cape Breton; and the hand-writing would be no discredit to any body. The method of writing and spelling is curious. The letters for the most part resemble the English, but are sounded like the French Their book is written in peculiar characters. They have nothing in Roman print. Most of them are acquainted with the contents of this book ; but few, however, can read it correctly. Copies of it are multiplied indefinitely, by trans- cribing. And it embraces important matter. It enters into some of the most elevated regions of knowledge and thought. I cannot approve of it as a whole. It states things which are false in fact, and ruinous in tendency ; but it also states much that is truth, and truth of the most momentous import. It is their Prayer Book. It contains condensed extracts from the historical portions of the Bible ; a Cate- chism of Religion ; Psalms and Hymns, • and Prayers. The contents are early instilled into their memoriep. The children are taught by their parents, and many a Protestant family might take a lesson from them in this respect. But they are also versed in other subjects. They have studied Botany from Nature's Volume. Tlicy knoAv the names of all the trees '"~ — I|7"T'| ,. r ^ THE MKMAf INDIANS. 2r» Jind sliriiba, niul useful plants, nnd roots, in their country. Tliey Imve Btudiod tiieir iifitures, liabitK, und useH. 'J'iiey have killed, dissected, and cxiuuiuud all the aniuials oi' North America, from the 7nestvgepe- i^ftjit to the giilwakchcch, IVom the' " buflalo" to the " mouse.'. They have in like manner cxaniincHl the birds and the fish. They iire there- fore Komewhat acquainted with INatiu-al History. The Indian has studied Geography. Not, however, that of Europe, Asia, and Africn. But he knows all about America. And most espe- cially does the Micmac knoAv about Nova Scotia and the places adja- rent. Shew him a map of these places, and explain to him that it is '• a picture of the country," and although it may be the first time he hatf ever seen a map, he can go round it. and point out the different places with the utuiost care. lie is a(;(]uainted with every spot. He is in tliB habit of making rude drawings of places for the direction of others. One party can thus infonn another at what spot in the w-oods they are to be found. At the ])lace where tliey turn off the main road, a piece of bark is left, with the contemplated route sketched upon it. The l)arty following examine the luskun as they term it, when they come up, and then follow on without any ditiiculty. An Indian is a first rate hand to give you directions respecting your road. Remarks it out for you on the ground, and you cannot have a better guide, especially through the woods. When roads were fewer and more difficult in Nova Scotia than they are now, tlie Indian's aid was frequently called into requisition. .And "here," said the tawny guide, who was years ago directing a party in their travel from Nictaux to Liverpool in the winter, •' hero just half-way." When the road was atlerwards measured it was found thai the Indian was correct. Arriv- ing at another spot, lie informed them that the preceding winter he had killed a moose at that place. Digging down through the deep snow, he immediately showed thorn the horns. Their services should always be obtained in searching ibr persons who are lost in the Avoods. Besides their accurate acquaintance M'ith the face of the country, they are able to track you with all ease over the leaves in summer. They can discern the traces of your foot, where you can see nothing. You have bent the leaves and grass under j'our Icet, and the impression remains. And your upper extremities have left ii'.i additional track behind you, on the trees, and on the moss, which, brushed along as you passed, was not wholly elastic ; it remained in a measure as you lefl it. So that whethei' he looks up or looks down, he sees your track, and can follow you at full speed. Now where there are habits of such close obser- vation, there niust be mental improvement. And tliey iiave some knowledge of Astronomy. They have watched the stars during their night excursions, or while laying wait for game. They know that the North star does not move, and they call it " okwo- lunuguwa kulokiiwech,^^ "the North star." They have observed that the ciicumjiolar stars never set. The <,'all the Great Bear, "Mueii" the bear. And they have names for several other constellations. The morning star is iifadabiim, and the seven stars rjulkurh. And " what do you call ihtit ?" said a venerable old lady a short time ago, who with her husband, the head chief of Cape Breton, was giving me n lecture on Astronomv, on nature's celestial o-lobc, <;hrough the apertures of thr- 1) } / it if yti Tll£ MICMAC INUIAiNS. wigwam. Slic was pointing to the "milicy way'' "Oh we call it the milky way — the milky road," said I. To my surprise she gave it the same name in Micmac. Besides these branches of knowledg'P, tiiey have amonjo; them histo- rical facts, us already intimated, and i'ac.ta mingled with fable, and fables apparently without any mixture of facts, treasured up carefully in their memories, and handed down from generation to generation. These singular tales display some talent in their composition, and many of tliem, all things considered, are exceedingly interesting, as the genu- ine compositions of a primitive race, just as the wildest or most ridicu- lous tales of the nursery (some of which, by-the-bye, they very much resemble), such as Sinbad the Sailor, Beauty and the Beast, Jack the Giant-killer, or Cinderrella and the glass slipper, would be, could we but be certified that they were the genuine compositions of the ancient Britons, in the days preceding the Roman conquest, when our forefa- tliers were barbarians. And viewed in a similar light Avhy should not tlie traditionary romances of the Micmacs be worthy of attention? They are, no doubt, genuine. Tliey must have been composed by Indians, and many of them by Indians of a former generation. Some of them are composed with great regularity. One event occurs out of another, and the story goes on witli a wildness of imagination about magicians and giants, and transformations, and love, and war, and murder, tliat might almost rival tlie metimorphaais of Ovid, or the tales of the ancient Scandinavians. Children exposed, or lost, by their parents, are miraculously preserved. They grow up suddenly to man- hood, and are endowed with superhuman powers. They become the avengers of the guilty, and the protectors of tlie good. They drive up the moose and the " carriboo" to their " camps" and slaughter them at their leisure. The elements are under their controul. They can raise tlie wind ; conjure up storms or disperse them ; make it cold or hot, Avet or dry, as they please. They can multiply the smallest amount of food indefinitely ; evade the subtlety and rage of their enemies ; kill them miraculously, and raise their slaughtered friends to life. Huge serpents are occasionally introduced " as big as mountains." A mons- trous bird called tlie kuUoo, the same possibly as the fabled condor, often makes its appearance. Witli a dozen slaughtered fat buflTaloes on its back, and several men, it goes off through the air as though it bore no burden. A whole quarter of beef serves it for a mouthful. It has human properties ; can speak ; and is endowed with prophetic powers. It is a powerful friend or terrible enemy to the Indians. When the former, it saves them from all sorts of troubles, and furnishes them with every good. When the latter, their condition is sad indeed. In a tale which lies before me, a kvlloo is described as having depopu- lated a whole village ; having carried the inhabitants all off alive, to his own territory. He occupies a central wigwam ; his prisoners arc all around him in a circle. One whole family furnishes him with a meal, and he takes them in rotation, each family knowing when their turn will come. The same tale relates the destruction of the old tyrant. A child, picked up in the woods by an old squaw, has been reared by her, and after a long series of marvellous events, he arrives just as his parents arc in expectation nf being devoured on the morrow. But ho »^». -«...>^.,.f^ TIIK MICMAC INDIANS. 37 proves tlioir deliverer. The old kulloo fulls by his innd, together witli all the brood, except the younger one, who by great pei-siiaaion and rich promises, obtains permission to live. Henceforth this bird attaches himself to the young hero, and faithfully does he reward hhn for sparing his life. Such are their tales, and they seem to have scores of them. Five of tliem from the mouth of an Indian, I have written down, each hoing the length of a tolerable sermon, and I have hoard many more. I prize them chiefly as furnishing me with the means of studying the language. Now all tliese facts relate to the question of the intellectual capacity of the Indians ; the degree of knowledge existing among them; and the possibility of elevating them in the scale of humanity. If such be their degree of mental improvement, with all their disadvantages, Avhat might they not become, were the proper opportunity afforded ? Shame on us ! We Jiavc seized upon the lands which the Creator gave to them. We have deceived, defrauded, and neglected them. We have taken no pains to aid them; or our efforts have been feeble and ill-directed. We have practically pronounced them incapable of improvement, or unwor- thy of the trouble ; and have coolly doomed the whole riice to destmc- tion. But dare we treat them thus, made as they are in the image of God like ourselves ? Dare we neglect them any longer ? Will not the bright sun and the blue hdavens testify against us ? and will not this earth which we have wrested away from tiicm, lift up its voice to accuse us ? And when they shall have ])assed away, and their very name is forgotten by pur children, will not the voice of our brother's blood cry unto God from the ground ? and in the Day of .Judgment when all past actions will be brought to light, and the despised Indian will stand on a level with his now more powerful neiglibonr, then as poor and as hclidess as himself; when the Searcher of Hearts shall demand of us, " Where is thy brother?" how shall we answer this ques- tion, if we make not now one last eitort to save them ! We will makt; such an effort. We arc doing so, and God is with us. He will crown our labours with success. We will implore foregivencss for the past, and wisdom and grace for the future. '■ 1 r 1 CHAPTER V. TIIIJ UEMOIOUS BELIEF OF THE MICMACS. The various tribes of North America seemed to have differed but little from each other in their ideas of religion when they bocamn known to the Europeans. With scarcely an exception tlioy were with- out images. They believed in a Supreme Power, a Great Spirit, thu Autlior of Good; and also in an evil spirit the author of evil. The latter is said to have been their principal object of worship. The Indians of Canada call the Great Spirit Manltu, or Menodu — difForent tribes probably making some ditference in the pronunciation — and they add the epithet good or bad to indicate which one they mean. Tlio U i f \i ' ,1 '^8 THK UIC.^[AC INUIA.'^li. Micmnrs liavfl eevoral ii!im«3 lor (iod. 'I'liey rnll liim .VVrAvim, uliicli intimates ll';t "we ure all his oflispiiiio'." .Yixl.nmieh sifjiiilyiiiii; oojfotVt could — he firmly believes — fly tlirouo-h the iiir — (even without u broom .stick) — go down tlirouoh the earth; remain under water an Jong as he chose ; transform himself into an animal — und do all the other feats of witchcraft which our forefathers, as well as learned divines of .Siileni, in Massiicliusetts, attributed to the poor old women of their day. But the most remarkable personage of their traditians is (llooscup. The Indians suppose tiint he is still in existence," although they tlo not know exactly where. He fonnerly resided in Nova Scotia ; but, of course, shitled his hahitation. He was, to say the least, almost an object of worship. He looked iuid lived like other men; he ate, drank, smoked, slept, and danced along with them. But he never died, never was sick, never grew old. He lived in a very large wigwam. Cajie Blomidon still bears hi., name, Glooscap-iveek, "Glooscap's home." The Basin of Minas was his beaver pond — for lie had every thing on a large scale. The dam Avas at Oape Split ; and we are indebted to this wondrous personage — so goes the tradition — for tlfe privilege of send- ing our ships down this passage. For there he cut open the " beaver dam" — and the fact is establislied by the name which it still bears. — The Indians call it Plee_!>-un, " the opening made in a beaver dam." Spencer's Island was his kettle, made of a stone. This is still its name; and two rocks, somewhat resembling dogs, seated on their huunclies, near It' ^ozyoHic " hi? kettle." are called zi' teek "his dogs." The kettle is now bottom upwards, and the dogs were transformed into rocks when he went away. His canoe was also of stone. Glooscap was unmamed. A venerable old lady, whom he called "grandmother," kept "house" for him, and a little fellow named .ihislanaxich, or " Marten," was his servant. He could do any thing and every thing. The moose and the carriboo, came around his dwel- ling, as tame as cattle; and the other bonsts were eciually obsequious. 'J'lie elements were entirely under his control. He could bring on an intensity of cold when he chose, which would extinguish all the fires of his enemie?!, and lay them stiffened corp=?cs on .He gTound. Tilt; MHSUC nUIAMS. <«> Tli(( (ilooscap froqupiifly fitfuroK in tlioir IcotiuIh. Ui^ kooius to hnvo l)Pcn, on the uliole, a noblo-niiiulfd, ji'oiii'rous sort nl' p*'rs(jnii!ro. Von do not otliMi nio«'t. vviih any niiscliievous excnnso ot'liis power. Strunfrrr^ utTO always welcotno to liis wi^'wuiii, and tlio uccfssitons nt-ver failed to share in \m hospitality, until some act ol'trcHfliery on their part, or Honio distrust of ills ahility, ealled fur cfistigation. Hid hoiuily, how ever, did not cost him nnich. When hungry travellers arrived, there was no neccHsity for yjaughtevingf a moose, or killing the " fatted calf.'' The old lady would hnng on the kettle; " Marten" would make up the fne, and jxiur in the water, She would then pick up a piece of an old heaver bone, and scrnpe it into the kotfie. As the boiling commenced these scrapings would thicken up, and the huge kettle would be soon full of fat pieces of llesh. If the necessity of the case required, a very ^mall piece of this meat would satisfy the most Iningry visiter — for as fast as he cut ofl" one piece, it would immedintely appear again. (ilooscap, they say, got otFonded at the encroachments of the whites'* but what displeased him most of all, and drove him away, was their treachery. By the direction of the king, an attempt was made to lake him prisoner; an attempt, as it proved, quite as foolishhsit was wicked. Little "Marten" was decoyed before the mouth of a loaded cannon. The match was applied, the powder blazed ; but no sooiier had the smoke cleared away, than the astonished spectators beheld the boy astride on the gun, composedly smoking his pipe. A second atlenjilt was made; this had of course, it was protended, been a pure accident. "Marten" was induced to enter the cannon's mouth — ho must hav^ been small, or the camion very large. — The gun was again dischan'od. Nothing was to be seen this time of the boy. No doubt was eiitei- tained of his annihilation. One of the by-standers ai"tor a little while peeps into the gun, and behold there sits the little gentleman, as easv as possible, quietly putllng away at his pipe as though notliino- hud happened. But unavailing as Avere these attempts, Glooscap gave vent to his anger, and in his rage abandoned the country, turned over his kettle, as he went oft', and changed his dogs into rocks. There the faithful sentinels still keep watcli, and when he returns he will be as able to restore them to their former life and vigor as he was at his departure, to fix them where they now are. Now what sense or meaning there may be at the bottom of all tliia nonsense, 1, leave to the speculations of others. Some allusion to these fables appeared necessary, in order to a correct understandino- of the cast of mind and prejiidices of the Indian. All these extraordinary powers, and still greater than tliese, they now believe their priests to possess. " The priest," they say, " is next to (Jod." Tjiey do not doubt his ability to work any miracle. One of the easiest of this sort of things for him to do is, as they suppose, to call up the devil from the pit below, and set him at his appropriate" work. An intelligent Indian lately proposed gravely to me, to go with him to the Bishop, and decide the question by an appeal to his miracu- lous powei"s, whether popery or protestantism be the riglit religion. I had read in the Bible to him, and he had been interested in its contents. fie had seemed anxious on the subject of his soul's salvation. I had explained to him the doctrine of salvation by grace, and oC the power f I '1 I- 30 TUB MKJMAC l.'fUIANd. of fiiitli and love to God, to produce jjood workri. 1 Imd prayed in \m wifrwiiiii ill his own laiijriiafro, mid pointed out ti» liini uliat 1 conceived to be his errors, and those of the syateni to which lie was attached. He had told nil this to his faiuily, and iioifriihors — for what o?ie heara {til hear. Some of tli(Jiii, I learned from another (piarter, had intimated tliat I niii>'ht I)C correct, while others thoufjht it advisahle for liini a:* well as for themselves, to be on their jruiird. lie admitted tiie since- rity of my intent ons in studyinfir thoir lantjuajTo, translatini>' the New Testament, and seel{in,rr to do them {rood ; but tiiis only led him as earnestly to wish my conversion, as 1 did his. " Were I convinced that the Roman Catholics are right, would I join them .'"' asked ho. I aesiirod liiin that I would. "Well, should tlic Bishop work a miracle, would that convince me ?" Undoubtedly it would, if I were sure tiiere was no deception, but a genuine miracle. The poor fellow was well pleased at this reply. We accordingly, at his suggestion, made an agreement, and ho was as sincere about it, to all appearance as possible. " My wife," said lie to mc in Micmac on his return next dny, " is pleased with the proposal, and so are my comrades." The agreement was this. Wo are to go, witii a suitable number of witnesses, to the Bishop — ]»rovided his lordship will agree to it — and my friend is previously to sound him. The Bishop is to summon the devil into his presence, and ask Iiim whicli belongs to him, the catholic or the protestant — my Indian friend, or myself. If his infernal mnjesty does not come, at the Bishop's bidding, this settles the question in my favor. The Indian is to bcconuj a convert to my opinions ; and his fluiiily, and many more of them, he sissures mo, will follow his exanijde. If the devil conies, and lays claim to rhe, and I cannot master him, I am to take shelter under the Bishop's wing, become a faithful son of the only true church, and devote myself, witlioutany opposition, to the welfare of the poor Indians. I have never yet met with an Indian who supposed he had himself seen the devil, or a miracle wrought. But I have been assured by some that their grandparents, or some other old people m hom they had seen or heard of, had done so. It is commonly reported among them that tlio first priest who came among them, learned miraculously to speak their language. He was a Frenchman. By means of an inter- preter he informed tiio Indians Avhat his object was. They readily assisted in the erection of a chapel, being paid for their labor. They did not refuse to receive baptism. Not that they understood its import — I relate the story substantially as stated to mo — but they thought it could do them no harm, and paboltijik, " it was capital fun" for them. Having finished the chapel the priest shut himself up alone, and spent the time in prayer. On Sundays, and when the sick or dying required his attention, he came out, attended to these duties, and then immedi- ately shut himself up again. This course he continued all winter, until Easter. He then gave notice that if the people M-ould assemble, he would preach to them. Tiiey did so, and to their astonishment, he spoke Micmac as well, and as fluently as any of them. And it is espe- cially related of him, as a proof his piinti/ as well as of his power, that he had learned no bad loords. And it further happened that ignorance in this case answered all the valuable ends of knowledge. For the only reason why ho might desire a knowledge of the meaning of "bad ^T TlIU MiUMAC INDU.XV. ;ti words," was, liiat lit>in'(inlM that lifroiild not !r»'t it out ot'liiH tlioiitrlitH ; l)iit tho imtajfoiUHt prinniplcH in wliicli li(> had bocn tniiiuul — coiddtliry ht! Inlspi' May tl»t' Spirit of God conduct liini into tlic way of triilli, and liolinoBs, and lioavon! At anotlior tinio I \rn\. ujoctiiro on prartical thnolojjy, which proatly ititrrPHtprl nic. It nmis on "charity, ' and dcsijjnpd to havo an iinnic- diatc practical cH't'ct npon my fxickct. A;h tlio family ucro tolcrihly comtortabh*, and nt'ithiT of tiif worthy old people, wlio woro makinfj their appeala, wen; ('ither nick or in want, it reqiiiretl Home cojrent arjjfu- ment^ to convince mo of tlie |)ropriety of pivinjy tliein money. " IJIla oiitee," said the old lady, very apiritt-'dly, " tliiH Ih the road," and hIjo laid down a lon Spirit, which is the Word of (imir \ T i'HK Ml< lUi i.\UU.>«. 83 I'-w i(|)W I, UH « liner which I," "Peter led of tho vcn before " the inoHt would find assist the < occasion ot hold tho 'hrist who lenoe, and enf|uired, )or of hea- ineusured ire neither *8t odium rejoice Ut le monien- •ught that, tlieiii any 3ts, would lere were ' or in any ature bet- ior g-ood- word of bushel? Jd.' We not gro- oinanisni, make us i^reat the it shoidd le sword .Wo should liilnir fi» f oiivert»tho (^ntliollo.^ ; liiit in doinnf tliiH, oj(/ tliitijjor, iiH iVotuHlimtrt, from ('iitlmlii; tisci'iidiiiicy, nliould he a ni'itlcr ofHinatl iiionieiit in coiiiparisoii >vitli//i«-//- dauber. 'l'lni!i I'ntilfejt, k'.i- jK'ctin^r the iiiib«'lioviinr Jews. 'I'hiin tiie KedcemiT Irji ! iwnrdi* nil ineu; utid tlmn i^liDuld wo fct'l tuwiirds the |K>t)r Indiaiw. ClIAl'IKK VI. A PHOTKST.iNT MISSION TO TIIF. MICMVCS — OIlKilN or TMi: MI««H):V — rHOVIIlK.NTIAI, \1I)S — TJIK OllilX'TS AIMIK AT — KNCOI.'R Alil.Xi I'llOSI'KC TS, There ifl at lonprth n ini.HHinn Cduiineiu'ed for the purpoHO of evnnpe- lizincrthe Miciiuu'H. Its object i.s to (rive them the pure Word (d'Ciod, ill their own totifjue, to instruct them ii; the pr(!iit truths of Ilible Reli- gion, to lead them into tlip patliH of fxporiiruMital and practical piety and, in every way, to week th«'ir jrood. It has enliHted the svinpathies and support of all denomination.^ of eviiiifrelical Christians. *l'lie plan adopted in the prosecution of this initision hitherto, was supfrcsted by the course pursued with .so much succes.s in France, in (iermany, in Ireland, in ('anada, and in various other countries; in order to enliph- ten the Romanists, and to bring them to a saving ncquaintanci! with I he Truth as it is in Jesus. It is that of going among the people, in the spirit of kindness ; speaking to Ihem in tkr.ir own tongue ; reading the Scriptures in their houses ; conversing tenderly with them respect- ing their soul's salvation; distributing cb])ie8 of the Rible and other good books, as o[)poitunity offers, and aiming in every way to remove their prejudices and lead them to the i'eet of ('hrist. 'i'lie thought win suggested, ' Why may not the poor Micmar Indians be reached in tli same way?' Who knows but they would listen to the wondrous story of redeeming love, if addressed to them in terms of christian alfection, and in their own tongue r' It was surely wortli while to tr\*, the chief difliculty ui the way was their language. How could this bo ac(]uired .' It had always been represented as very formidable. We knew of no books in Micmac. We know of no one who possessed either the abili- ty or the will to give assistance ; and we had forgotten that hard as tlie language migiit be, n little child can learn it, without book.s, and un- der every other disadvantage. And from what source could i)ecuniaiy assistance be expected r I'eople would liardly believe that any one was in sober earnest about undertaking such a task as that coutcMU- phited ,• and if he really were in earnest, they would be much more likely to think of a strait jacket, or a Lunatic asylum, than tliey would to think of giving money to such an object. And even were the public to be convinced of its necessity, and practicability, the churches of all denominationa, were pressed out of measure alrea- dy, to sustain their various religious and benevolent object.s. But how easy it is to start objections. Shame on our unbelief! shame on our slothfulness ! He who .W's to us "go forward," can supply all the necessaries. He can rain down breud from heaven (if need bo); bring water out of the rock ; or o])en up a passage ihrouijh thf> / ii ! f I. !•, t u •% rni: Mic:Mic indivv*. very rniilfit of the soft. Diinciilties v.inifh ns •^vo apppMirh them, wo ut I forget myself, not declamation, but facts are here called for. The different objects, above referred to, have all been carried for- ward, so far OS possible, not separately, hul conjointly. For one wliole year we kept two little Indian boys at School in Charletteto'wn. The oldest who had tolerably good English, made con.^idprahlc progress. I succeeded in tcnchintj!' an older bov to read a little, and to write and I r ; i \ I) i! u ~T-^fc ■m' m ys THIC MICMAC INDIANS. i. ^ 1 riplier, v.'hilo lu; was nt the Hiinie Uine iuslnictlnpf inf. 1 iipvor know a scholar td make sucli rapid progrcstj. Tlio family then reiiiDved to Nova Scotia, or we would have continued our efiorts on their hehall". I have succeeded in coUectiiior a large number of words, and gramma- tical forms in the Micmac. Different portions, both of the Old Testa- ment and New, have been translated, among which is the whole Cospel of Luke. These tran.'^lations Avill, I need not say, need much revision before they will be suliiciently correct to print. But in the meantime they exhibit the doctrines of the Great Teacher, and aftord the means of carrying on tlie other departments of the Mission more efficiently. And now it may be asked, what |)rospect is there of success. I re])ly in a few words. Were tJiere none, would it ciiange the meaning- of the " Great Commission .'" " Go teach all nations ;" or alter tiie sense of the promise, "lo I am -with you always, even unto the end of the M'orld !" Would our obligations be lessened ? Surely not. Again what is meant by " a prospect of success ?" When we speak of encouraging prospects of missions among the Jews, the Maliomme- dans, or Heathen, are we supposed to mean that these people have been petitioning for Christian Mis.-jionaries ." that they are waiting to receive their instructions ; that their own superstitions have but a slight hold upon their minds ; and that there are no hindrances in the way of the Missionary ? Seldom indeed do we look for such encouragements aa these. But when we liear that the Missionary, after months, if not years of toil, has at last so far mastered their language, that he can converse with those perishing immortals, and read the Bible to them, we thank God for this and take courage. And then comes the pleasing intelligence that he can go about among them without danger of being killed — that they will permit him to enter their houses and will listen to his conversation — tiiia, when we hear of it, especially in reference to the Jews, we look upon as a great matter. Finally they come to him with questions on the subject of religion, and listen to him with atten- tion while he answers those questions. Tiien M-e look for more pleas- ing results ; and while these facilities remain, though we may be com- pelled to wait long andanxioiisly, to hear of the actual conversion of souls, yet we never think of discouragement. Then if these things are prospects of success, we have eveiy encou- ragement in prosecuting a mission among the Micmacs. I have never found the slightest difficulty or danger in going among them. Again and again my heart has been inovea at witnessuig the pleasure and gratitude expressed for the attention sliown them ; niul the deep intere.st they appeared to manifest in the truths of the New Testament, when read to them in their own tongue. I carefully avoid provoking contro- versy ; but never fail to point out their errors kindly, when an oppor- t\inity oflers, and 1 never knew this give offence. Questions on the New Testament, and upon religious subjects are frequently put; and the answers are li.slened to witli candour and attention. And all tliis \\^& continued even after the most strenuous exertions have been made to put a stop to it. But I need not continue these details. And after the deep interest which has been manitested on the subject, by the community generally, any further arguments or appeals, intended to arouse the feelings, would be felt to be altogether out of place. But let those who are familiar . ii.'wfcl'n. \^ TIU; MICMAC IM>IA.\8. ai» 1 ncvor know then removed to on their behalf. Is. niid praniiiia- tho Old Testa- ho wliulo Go>s|)t'l I much revision in the meantime fford the moans ire efficiently. Lice ess. 1 reply the meaning of " 11 Iter the sense the end of the r not. vVlien we speak the Mahomme- leople have been litini^ to receive ut a slight hold the way of the ;ourag'ements a.i months!, if not ge, that he can Bible to them, nes the pleasing danger of heing and will listen r in reference to BV come to hiiii lim with atteii- br more pleas- may be coin- conversion of e eveiy encou- I have never them. Again le pleasure and 10 deep intere.st statnent, when )voking contro- ivlien an oppur- lestions on the ently put; and And all tliis ave been made e deep interest nity generally, feelings, would 10 are familiar with the Mercy Seat, not forget to pray for this object, liring the case of the poor Indian to the throne of grace, and forget not the Mis- sionary. In your best moments, when you get the nearest to your Heavenly Father's bosom ; when faitli lays hold upon the promises ; and praying is I'elt to be a matter of asking and receiving, then '* brc- tliren pray for us." I do not know that a single convert has yet been made. It is ponsiblc that all the labors whicii may be expended upon them, may fail in being instrumental in saving one soul from death. But it is not prohabk. And even if it were, that is not so much our atfair, as to see to it that the failure result from no neglect of ours. '• I can do all tilings," sayw an Apostle, " through Christ strengthening me." And so can we ; while without Him " we can do notiiing." There is no reason why tJie Micmac fndians, may not be blest, and elevated and saved by the gospel, equally with any other people. "Is any thing too hard for the Lord r" No race of human beings has ever been discovered, impervious to the Spirit's power ; nor has man been found in any condition on this side of eternity, in which the gospel could not find its way to his heart, and bring him clothed, and in his right mind, to the feet of .iesus. Missionary labors among the American Indians, have been abundantly successful. Who does not know of the labours and successes of Elliot, and Brainard, and the Mahews, of Roger Williams, and the Moravians, and a host of others both of former and later times? 'I'he second sermon which Elliot preached to the Savages, about the year U)4 bunds, "^.- ' ■■■* •'-.-,. go 1.34, of that ninety-six per- tiints, and tliir- 0(1 liidiiinH des- [>r ratJior whiti) ese poor crea- r, by the most confessed that said they, they hitenien called respecting the are a doomed They indeed Ives, in the hoat if the decree of sre is the great between star\'- er, witliout at- ' Why not kill ce, rather than by inches — to e put forth no ?ly tliere is no there is no one those wrongs, many flonrish- In the United ts, the Baptists, ijrreat success, uid cattle, and jachers, and in- character, and mong the obvi- th^ same here ? 00. They are d Island, Ne^vv- 3w Brunswick. In Cape Breton jellent quality. ost they would ;en to be tlio L large reward iiployed. May to us all. and by ihp Religions ; work, and nuirhf *# R^Wm'S^'^fl?" •"-fe.i»