the concurrence of the inhabitants, for the purpose of meeting any fresh applications, shall henceforth cease-and that, if any fund be judged necessary, in order to provide for new cases, it shall under a public and parochial administration, be altogether a gratuitous, and in no shape a legal or compulsory one. For the purpose of constituting such a fund, he proposes that the minister and church-wardens shall be empowered to have a weekly collection at the church-doors; that "what is now gathered in the name of Sacrament money" should be made over to it; that donations from individuals may be received-in all which ways, he adds, the revenue of a Kirk Session in Scotland is mainly upheld.

-

But Dr. Chalmers has no fears as to a deficiency of funds; on the contrary, his apprehensions are all turned to the hazards attending a redundancy. The vestries, he is sure, will have more money at their disposal than they will be able to give away without doing mischief: and he accordingly exhorts them, again and again, to eschew the manifold evil of excessive liberality at the outset. He recommends, of course, some change in the constitution of the vestries, and particularly a considerable addition to the number of their members; including not only the clergyman and church-wardens, but such active and humane persons of proper station, as might be pleased to undertake the charge of superintending the affairs of their poorer brethren in their immediate neighbourhood. But, on the whole, he very wisely avoids details in regard to these points, not being perfectly master of a va riety of circumstances, in our habits and parochial relations, which, in the event of any change, would influence naturally the precise character of the practical arrangements to be adopted.

The Doctor labours sedulously to remove from his scheme the opprobrium of a sweeping and revolutionary tendency, He found when in this part of the country, a great desire for amending the present poor laws; but there was a wish equally strong and universal that the change should be gradual, and, in fact, that the existing system should be improved in practice without being much altered in principle, and still less that reform should be carried the length of complete abolition. In reply to these suggestions the Doctor observes that there are two ways in which a process of improvement may be gradualized; namely, either by a series of successive approximations in the general law to a state that shall at length be perfect and unexceptionable; or by the application at once of the best possible law to a few of the simple and manageable parishes, and thence the suc

cessive adoption of it by the larger and more unwieldy parishes. He, as might be expected, prefers the latter; thinking it better to experiment with a good principle on a small scale, than to rest satisfied with the uncertain advantage which may be obtained from watching and checking the operations of one that is avowedly bad. Nor would the legal permission for which he pleads to introduce a reformed system, either interfere with a judicious management of pauperism on the old scheme, or unduly accelerate the projected innovation, like the enclosing and dividing of commons, to the principle of which it has been compared, the new method, being simply allowed not enforced, would in all probability be tried with so much caution that even the failure of it would produce no bad effect. It would not by its immediate operation suspend the beneficial efficacy of any of those regulations which the experience of near two centuries has engrafted upon the practice of our poor laws : it would not repeal Gilbert's Statute, nor the wise Act of Sturges Bourne'; it would not throw upon casual charity those who have been accustomed to legal relief, and whose need of that relief had probably arisen from the mere knowledge that their want of industry and of foresight would not be visited upon them, in helplessness, sickness and unprotected old age; it would only admonish the rising generation that they were to have no reliance but upon their own endeavours, no resources but such as they themselves should create, and no guarantee against poverty, besides an active and vigilant economy, the gratitude of children, the love of kindred, and the unrestrained humanity of benevolent neighbours.

There is not therefore any ground for those fears which are entertained by many patriotic individuals, as arising from the opinion that the only way of proceeding against pauperism is by imperative enactments which behoved to be instantly and simultaneously followed up by a change of administration all over the country. Dr. Chalmers is perfectly aware of the mischief that such a movement, at once sudden and general, would occasion, and that out of a conflict and variety of sentiment thus spread over the whole land, there might be formed an hostility greatly too fierce and formidable for the safety of the nation. It was, says he, the method of bringing into play the elements of a mighty agitation; and spreading out the question on an arena wide enough, and conspicuous enough, for the great master demagogues of the land. Those writers who live upon the discontents of the people would instantly seize upon it as the fittest topic for keeping up that fermentation, in the whirl and briskness of

which all their prosperity lies. In this way every attempt upon the poor laws, and every suggestion to repress the evils of a legal and compulsory aliment, have been regarded as pregnant with disaffection among the lower orders, and even as the forerunners of a complete revolution of the state and government.

We do not indeed think that every part of Dr. Chalmers's projected system would be either perfectly practicable in England, or of unmixed advantage any where but it cannot be denied that there is a plausible and promising character belonging to it considered as a whole, and that it would be productive of much good in our large manufactur. ing towns especially, even though the more Utopian views connected with it, were never either acted upon, or fully realized. His pamphlets, at all events, contain many valuable hints, which may be improved by less ingenious men than the author; and a statement of principles which may be developed and applied hereafter, in more auspicious times; when the poor shall have been convinced that their best interests are most closely connected with their own character and doings, and that virtue, happiness, and independence, can only be secured by industry, self-denial, and self-command.

ART. X. Memoirs of a Captivity among the Indians of North America, from Childhood to the Age of Nineteen; with Anecdotes descriptive of their Manners and Customs. To which is added, some Account of the Soil, Climate, and vegetable Productions of the Territory Westward of the Mississippi. By John D. Hunter. pp. 458. 12s. Longman & Co 1823.

WE could wish for a few more details respecting the present situation and abode of the author of these Memoirs, who, if he had been more communicative on these points, would certainly have had more right than he now possesses to challenge implicit confidence. That he should publish in London rather than in New York is scarcely a matter of surprize: all then we require is to be more minutely informed of the method and progress of his education in civilized habits, the length of time since his first reclamation from barbarism, and the post to which he has since elevated himself in American society. Since we are left in comparative

ignorance on these heads; we must be content to give his narrative as we find it. Our reader will be just as well able as ourselves to determine on its authenticity; of which, however, we by no means intend to express any disbelief.

With the place of his nativity, and the circumstances of his parentage, John Hunter professes total unacquaintance. He, with two other white children, a boy and girl, was taken prisoner at a very early age by a party of the Kickapoo Indians, and he has only occasional and very indistinct recollections of the terrific circumstances which preceded his capture.

"There are moments when I see the rush of the Indians, hear their war-whoops and terrific yells, and witness the massacre of my parents and connections, the pillage of their property, and the incendious destruction of their dwellings. But the first incident that made an actual and prominent impression on me happened while the party were somewhere encamped, no doubt shortly after my capture; it was as follows: The little girl whom I before mentioned, beginning to cry, was immediately dispatched with the blow of a tomahawk from one of the warriors: the circumstance terrified me very much, more particularly as it was followed with very menacing motions of the same instrument, directed to me, and then pointed to the slaughtered infant, by the same warrior, which I then interpreted to signify, that if I cried, he would serve me in the same manner," P. 5.

The boy, after this tragedy, was carried off in another direction, and Hunter was left alone among the Indians. His march continued for several days, till he reached a camp, situated on a considerable river, but in what particular district he was unable to determine. Here he was adopted into the family of one of the principal warriors, and experienced much kindness from the Squaw his wife.

The first years of his captivity were distinguished only by occasional changes of encampment. Hunter became easily reconciled to his new habits, and appears to have grown up in favour with his captors. During one of their migrations, the Kickapoos, to whom he belonged, were attacked and taken prisoners by a party of wandering Pawnees. The warriors were killed and scalped, the women and children annexed to the suite of the conquerors. From them, by a similar fortune, he was soon transferred to the Kansas, who marched him to their town, situated on a river of the same name, several hundred miles above its confluence with the Missouri, which is three hundred and fifty miles above the entrance of the latter river into the Mississippi.

A Squaw, who had lost her son in a recent engage

H

ment, immediately adopted Hunter in his stead, and he was in consequence treated with great regard and tenderness. He very much preferred his new to his original masters, with whom he represents them to be strongly contrasted; and it is well that they are so, for the Kickapoos are "treacherous, deceitful, cunning, not tenacious of a good character, exceedingly remiss in their social habits and intercourse, and are held in humble estimation by the neighbouring tribes." The first white trader who Hunter ever saw came to the Kansas towns in the fall ensuing after his capture. He had been strongly prejudiced against them by his Indian education, and the impression which they left behind them was in the highest degree unfavourable. Meantime he learned to ride, and acquired the language of his protectors. His only lessons of morality were drawn from a venerable warrior, Tshut-che-nau, (the defender of the people,) and in truth the veteran was no bad preacher.

"He would often admonish us for our faults, and exhort us never to tell a lie. 'Never steal, except it be from an enemy, whom it is just that we should injure in every possible way. When you become men, be brave and cunning in war, and defend your hunting grounds against all encroachments. Never suffer your squaws or little ones to want. Protect the squaws and strangers from insult. On no account betray your friend. Resent insults-revenge yourselves on your enemies. Drink not the poisonous strongwater of the white people; it is sent by the Bad Spirit to destroy the Indians. Fear not death; none but cowards fear to die. Obey and venerate the old people, particularly your parents. Fear and propitiate the Bad Spirit, that he may do you no harm; -love and adore the Good Spirit, who made us all, who supplies our hunting grounds, and keeps us alive."". P. 21.

The Kansas were at war with a neighbouring tribe, the Mahas, whom they defeated in a decisive and bloody battle. Twenty-five of their enemies were brought in prisoners. In every Indian town is a painted post, which is considered when once reached as an asylum, until the fate of the captive is determined in a council of war; but in reaching it is much danger and difficulty. The Squaws, particularly those who have lost connections in the war, assemble with the children, and attack with briars, stones, clubs, and fire-brands, the unhappy victims who pass between their ranks. On the present occasion some were horribly mangled in gaining the place of refuge. Two only who had instigated the war were selected for capital punishment, and they expired amid protracted and remorseless tortures with every mark of constancy and fortitude.