leading arguments, and—with an eloquence truly astonishing in one like him-pleaded the cause of religion and humanity. The ancient council then deliberated for the space of nearly two hours; after which the oldest man arose, and solemnly pronounced the result of their conference-"That the Christian God was more wise, more just, more beneficent and powerful, than the Great Spirit, and that the missionary who had delivered his precepts, ought to be cherished as their best benefactor-their guide to future happiness."

When this decision was pronounced by the venerable old man, and acquiesced in by the people, the rage of the Prophet of the Alleghany became terrible. He started from the ground, seized his tomahawk, and denouncing the speedy vengeance of the Great Spirit upon their whole recreant race, darted from the circle with wild impetuosity, and disappeared in the shadows of the forest.

.

the Marquis de Lafayette, who, to a noble

zeal for liberty, united the most philanthropic feelings. Viewing, therefore, this young savage with peculiar interest, and anticipating the happy results to be derived from his moral regeneration, he took him, though scarcely twelve years old, to France. Peter arrived at that period when Louis XVI. and Maria Antoinette were in the zenith of their glory. There he was taught the accomplishments of a gentleman;-music, drawing, and fencing, were made familiar to him, and he danced with a grace that a Vestris could not but admire. At about eighteen, his separation from a country in which he had spent his time so agreeably and profitably, became necessary. Laden with favors from the Marquis, and the miniatures of those friends he had left behind, Peter departed for Americainflated, perhaps, with the idea, that the deep ignorance of his nation, with that of the Indians of the whole continent, might be dispelled by his efforts, and he become the proud instrument of the civilization of thousands.

Prosecuting his route to the land of his

parents, he came to the city of Albany; not the uncivilized savage, not with any of those marks which bespoke a birth in the forest, or spent in toiling the wilds of a desert, but possessing a fine commanding figure, an expressive countenance, and intelligent eye, with a face scarcely indicative of the race from which he was descended. He presented, at this period, an interesting spectacle; a child of the wilderness was beheld about to proceed to the home of his forefathers, having received the brilliant advantages of a cultivated mind, and on his way to impart to the nation that owned him, the benefits which civilization had given him. It was an opportunity for the philosopher to contemplate, and to reflect on the future good this young Indian might be the means of producing.

Shortly after his arrival in Albany-where he visited the first families-he took advantage of Governor Clinton's journey to Fort Stanwix, where a treaty was to be held with the Indians, to return to his tribe. On the route, Otsaquette amused the company, among

whom were the French Minister, Count de Moustiers, and several gentlemen of respectability, by his powers on various instruments

of music. At Fort Stanwix, he found himself again with the companions of his early days, who saw and recognised him. His friends and relations had not forgotten him, and he was welcomed to his home and to his blanket.

But that which occurred soon after his reception, led him to a too fearful anticipation of an unsuccessful project; for the Oneidas, as if they could not acknowledge Otsaquette, attired in the dress with which he appeared before them, a mark which did not disclose his nation, and, thinking that he had assumed it, as if ashamed of his own native costume, the garb of his ancestors, they tore it from him with a savage avidity, and a fiend-like ferociousness, daubed on the paint to which he had been so long unused, and clothed him 'with the uncouth habiliments held sacred by his tribe. Their fiery ferocity, in the performance of the act, showed but too well the