certain elders of his tribe, and acknowleging me for his son, gave me a name, and fastened round my neck a belt of wampum.
It is thus, said he, that the valiant are tried, and thus are they rewarded; for how should'st thou be as one of us, if thy soul were as the soul of little men; he only is worthy to lift the hatchet with the Cherokees, to whom▪ shame is more intolerable than the stab of the knife, or the burning of the fire.



"IN this society I lived till about a year and a half ago; and it may seem extraordinary to declare▪ yet it is certainly true, that during the life of the old man who had adopted me, even had there been no legal restraint on my return to my native country, scarce any inducement could have tempted me to leave the nation to which he belonged, except perhaps the desire of revisiting a parent, and a sister, whom I had left in England sunk beneath that ignominy, which the son and the brother had drawn on his guiltless connexions. When we consider the perfect freedom subsisting in this rude and simple state of society, where rule is only acknowleged for the purpose of immediate utility to those who obey, and ceases whenever that purpose of subordination is accomplished; where greatness cannot use oppression, nor wealth excite envy; where the desires are native to the heart, and the langour of satiety is unknown; where, if there is no refined sensation of delight, there is also no ideal scource cf calamity; we shall the less wonder at the inhabitants feeling no regret for the want of those delicate pleasures of which a more polished people is possessed.
Certain it is, that I am far from being a single instance, of one who had even attained maturity in Europe, and yet found his mind so accommodated, by the habit of a few years, to Indian manners, as to leave that country with regret. The death of my parent by adoption loosened, indeed, my attachment to it; that event happened a short time before my departure from America.
"The composure with which the old man met his dissolution▪ would have done honour to the firmest philosopher of antiquity. When he found himself near his end, he called me to him, to deliver some final in••ructions respecting my carriage to his countrymen; he observed, at the close of his discourse, that I retained so much of the European as to shed some tears, while he delivered it.
In those tears said he, there is no wisdom, for there is no