Art. VI. A Present for the Convalescent: or for those to whom it is hoped, some recent Affliction has been attended with a Divine Blessing and for new Converts to Religion in general. By the Rev. John Fry, B. A. Rector of Desford, Author of "The Sick Man's Friend," &c. &c. 12mo. pp. xii. 254. Price 4s. London. 1823. AN EXTRACT from the Introduction to this little work, will best explain its design, and indicate the truly Christian spirit which pervades it. < The favourable reception of a small work of the Author, entitled The Sick Man's Friend, has led to the following publication. Its aim is, to follow up the advice that has been given on the sick-bed, when returning health appears likely to restore the patient to the world and its temptations; and thus, in hope of the Divine blessing, to throw another handful of seed into the soil that has, perhaps, in some measure been softened and loosened in affliction, before it shall again resume its wonted hardness, or stiffen under the incumbent harvest. The friends of religion, whose warning and consoling voices are heard at the bed of sickness, are often compelled to witness the dispersion of their fairest prospects of good, at the period of returning health, or when the spirits that had been depressed, are raised again to their former elevation. Alas! How soon Doth height recal high thoughts, how soon unsay Indeed, I can appeal to the best practised in the works of charity, whether, notwithstanding all their acquired knowledge and experience, they are not sometimes much surprised at the results of a recovery from a sick-bed. The penitence seemed so true and earnest, the welcome given to the tidings of a Redeemer's mercies seemed so hearty, so much was said, so much was promised, so much seemed to be felt, that charity retained no doubt; and, had the expected death ensued, would triumphantly have inscribed the memory of the deceased as a monument of converting grace. But your sick man recovered, and all his religion was gone! He awoke as from a pious dream, and returning to the realities of life, was the same wicked and careless man as ever. Your heart mourns at this: you feel dis appointed. Perhaps a temptation is at hand, that you should relax in your labours of love, since means so well adapted, so well-timed, so morally powerful on every feeling of the human breast, are all as nothing before the returning tide of human corruption. But recal these thoughts. Your "labour of love" was the same. "It is well that it was in thine heart" to carry the balm of salvation to that bed of sickness. Thy work shall have its reward." And the case, however extraordinary and discouraging, will some way or other redound to the glory of God, and to the illustration, perhaps, still of his manifold grace; "be not then weary in well doing." To assist the pious and friendly visiter in this charitable work, these addresses have been drawn up. They are fourteen in number. The first, founded on John v. 14, is particularly apposite and striking. The next three are on John viii. 31, 2; Matt. viii. 18; and 1 Pet. ii. 2. These are followed by seven addresses on "the first principles of the doctrine of Christ," and the danger of apostacy, founded on Heb. vi. 1-6. The subjects of the last three are taken from 2 Cor. vii. 1; Tit. ii. 14. and Eph. vi. 10. The topics are extremely well chosen, and the style is simple, practical, and affectionate. In noticing a work of this kind, we purposely waive minute criticism. We regret, however, that our Author has deemed it expedient to touch (at p. 112,) on the Church of England doctrine of baptism. The tenor of his general remarks on that subject is excellent, but he has hazarded a few disputable positions, which we could wish omitted in a work adapted for general circulation. Our objection applies, however, to only a few sentences. Mr. Fry takes the words-" the doctrine "of baptisms and of laying on of hands," as intending the doctrine of regeneration and of the indwelling of the Holy Spirit. In support of this opinion, he may cite highly respectable authorities. But we incline to believe with Calvin, that the words are to be read as in a parenthesis: "not laying again "the foundation of repentance from dead works and faith to"wards God, which is the doctrine of baptisms," &c. that is, the initial doctrines of Christianity, those into which the catechumens are instructed. This appears to us by far the more natural construction, and it gives a better sense. Mr. Fry has judiciously appended to each address a short prayer. The volume has our cordial recommendation: it cannot fail to be useful. The first address, if printed separately, would form an excellent tract for more enlarged circulation. Art. VII. 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, 8vo. pp. x. 448. Price 12s. London. 1823. THIS very entertaining narrative will not fail to strengthen the growing interest which, we are happy to find, is awakened on behalf of the North American Indians. The inter nal marks of authenticity are so strong, that we entertain no suspicion whatever of its substantial genuineness and accuracy. At the same time, it would have been more satisfactory to be informed, by what means the work fell into the hands of the publishers. If, as we suspect, it be a reprint of an American edition, we know of no purpose that can be answered by the suppression of the fact. The Preface, which is without date or address, states, that a Mr. Edward Clark, a friend of the Author's, has had the revisal and arrangement of the manu-` script. Mr. Edward Clark may be very well known at New York; but we in London, should have liked to learn something about him also: his endorsement of the Manuscript would have been worth something, could he have referred us for his character, to any good house in town. As it is, we must receive the story on the faith of the Narrator, and Messrs. Longman, Hurst, Rees, Orme, Brown, and Green. The individual whose Indian nomme de guerre has supplied him with so familiar and British a surname, in addition to his baptismal appellative, and whom we are now to call Mr. John Hunter, was captured, in his infancy, together with another white boy and a little girl, by a party of Kickapoo Indians, who attacked the residence of his parents, which was doubtless some remote settlement. His very early age at the time, precludes his having any recollection of the circumstances attending his capture, of the situation of the settlement, or of the namé and person of his parents, who, in all probability, were massacred. Of his infant fellow prisoners, the girl was afterwards despatched, and the boy was attached to another party. Hunter was adopted into the family of one of the principal warriors, in whose squaw he found a kind and affectionate foster-mother. While, however, he was still very young, the party of Kickapoos among whom he had become naturalized, in the course of their migrations, fell in with a hostile party of wandering Pawnees, who massacred and scalped nearly all their warriors, and made prisoners of the remainder. With them he had remained only a few months, when they were, in their turn, attacked and vanquished by the Kansas, or Konzas, on whose hunting-grounds they had trespassed; and Hunter was again fortunate in being transferred to the family of one of the chiefs. While among this more civilized tribe, he was accustomed, in company with the Indian boys, to listen with indes⚫ cribable satisfaction, to the sage counsels, inspiring narratives, and traditionary tales of Tshut-che-nau.' (Defender of the People.) This venerable worn-out warrior would often admonish us for our Never faults, and exhort us never to tell a lie. "Never steal, except it be from an enemy, whom it is just 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. 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 strong-water 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 huntinggrounds, and keeps us alive." Now, looking around on his auditors with an indescribable expression of feeling in his countenance, and pointing to the green fields of corn, and to the stores collected from the hunting-grounds, he would continue: "For the peaceful enjoyment of all these, you are indebted to myself and to my brave warriors. But now they are all gone, and I only remain. Like a decayed prairie tree, I stand alone: the com. panions of my youth, the partakers of my sports, my toils, and my dangers, recline their heads on the bosom of our Mother. My sun is fast descending behind the western hills, and I feel that it will soon be night with me." Finally, his heart overflowing with gratitude, with uplifted hands, and eyes directed heavenwards, he would close the interesting scene, by thanking the Great and Good Spirit, for having been so long spared as an example to point out to the young men the true path to glory and fame. I loved this old man; the Indians all loved him; and we always listened to his wise counsels with the greatest satisfaction and delight. I am convinced that much of this venerable chief's character would have adorned the proudest age of civilized life. Surely, it was a bright example, in the western wilds, of uneducated virtue and practical piety.' pp. 21, 2. Hunter was yet a boy when he first experienced the most poignant grief, which, however, he bore in silence as became an Indian, on account of the death of his Kansas fostermother, who was accidentally drowned. The manner in which he adverts to this circumstance, does great credit to his feelings. 'I cannot,' he says, even at this late day, reflect on her maternal conduct to me, from the time I was taken prisoner by the Kansas, to her death, without the association of feelings to which, in other respects, I am a stranger. She was indeed a mother to me; and I feel my bosom dilate with gratitude at the recollection of her goodness and care of me during this helpless period of my life. This, to those who have been bred in refinement and ease, under the fond and watchful guardianship of parents, may appear gross and incongruous. If, however, the imagination be allowed scope, and a lad ten or twelve years of age, without kindred or name, or any knowledge by which he could arrive at an acquaintance with any of the circumstances connected with his being, be supposed in the central wilds of North America, nearly a thousand miles from any white settlement, a prisoner or sojourner among a people on whom he had not the slightest claim, and with whose language, habits, and character, he was wholly unacquainted, but who nevertheless treated him kindly; it will appear not only natural, but rational, that he should return such kindness with gratitude and affection. Such nearly (qu. really?) was my situation, and such, in fact, were my feelings at that time. And however my circumstances have since changed, or however they may change in the future, I have no hope of seeing happier days than I experienced at this early period of my life, while sojourning with the Kansas nation, on the Kansas river, some hundred miles above its confluence with the Missouri.' pp. 26, 7. In the following spring, he was taken for the first time on a hunting expedition. The party ascended the Platte river several hundred miles, to the mouth of the Dripping Rock, near which there is stated to be a very remarkable cavern, formerly used as a cemetery by a tribe of different customs from any of the Indians who now traverse the district, as the latter bury their dead in an altogether different manner. This geological phenomenon is always visited with great reverence and dread; and our Author describes himself as retreating from it, half inclined to believe the tradition which represents it as the aperture through which the first Indian ascended from the bowels of the earth. Soon afterwards, the whole party were reduced to the necessity of surrendering themselves to the protection of a tribe of Osages, between whose nation and the Kansas a war had broken out since they left their village. They were received in the most generous and friendly manner; and before he had been long with them, the young White was received into the family of a distinguished Osage warrior, at the instance of his wife, who had recently lost a son in battle. This good woman used every method to engage his affection and esteem. She used,' he says, to weep over me, tell me how good her son had been, how much she loved him, and how much she mourned his loss. "You must be good," she would say, " and shall be my you son, and I will be your mother." The daughter in many respects imitated the mother; and the greatest care was taken to supply my wants with the choicest things they had in their power to bestow. They made and ornamented mockasins and leggings for me, and furnished me with a beaver cap and buffalo robe; habiliments not usually worn by the Indian boys......I sincerely loved and respected them, as much, it appears to me, as if they had really been allied to me by the strongest ties of consanguinity.' pp. 35, 6. |