The stone, with this almost illegible inscription, was long since removed from its original place, and is now preserved by J. GODDARD, Esq. On the only three stones now standing, with inscriptions upon them, may be traced, though with much difficulty, the following, in Roman letters. The exact form and orthography, which are of the rudest and most antique character, it is difficult here to preserve :

The following are in italics. Each inscription seems to have been rudely chiselled by different persons, both from the style and difference of spelling:

It was

The accompanying genealogical account of the royal family has been preserved, but in what manner we are unable to say. found, however, in the possession of one of the oldest inhabitants, and is worth keeping.

· Sassecus, Sachem of the Narragansets.

1. Uncas, first sachen of Mohegan, the son of Sassecus.

2. Sachem, Venech, son of Uncas by Sassecus' daughter. The first son of Venech was shot for murder in the life-time of his father, who left a son Mohamet, alias Yeamcuen, who died in England, being then with Capt. Mason.

3. Sachem Cæsar, second son of Venech.

4. Sachem Major Ben Uncas.

5. Sachem Ben, the second son of Major Ben Uncas. 6. Sachem Ben Uncas, third son of Ben, second.'

There are several other particulars, respecting marriages and intermarriages, which we have not room to notice. The sixth and last chief is described as a splendid fellow, every way worthy of his ancestors. There was evidently much, and very praiseworthy, attention paid to the royal family by the whites of those times, in thus preserving these particulars, and in erecting memorials to their memory; but why the chiefs themselves have not been thus honoredthe first Uncas excepted does not appear; though they may have received this distinction, and the stones have since been lost. The

pretty grove of trees, under which are now to be recognised about twenty graves, together with the associations there called up, and the scenery round about, make a visit to the spot a subject of romantic yet melancholy reminiscence.

As I slowly re-traced my steps from the ancient fortification I have described, I called to mind the remark of one who-after nineteen years' constant intercourse with the Indian tribes of the west, as an officer of the United States' government - affirmed that he never heard of a sanguinary contest with the aborigines, which was not first provoked by the abuses of the whites.* There have been stratagems and frauds practised upon the Seminoles, and the Cherokees, which, if they could be traced out, would awake in the bosom of every thinking, right-minded white man, deep sympathetic emotions. There is not a nation nor a people on earth, who have endured the abuses of the American Indian. The 'poor African,' about whom there is a prodigious uproar, and with whose alleged mistreatment the press is teeming, has never suffered the long and heart-felt wrongs of the aborigines. And yet, with as much difference between the two races as between any people in the world, we pour out lamentations for the one, and bind the free and noble in spirit, without compunction.

As an American, born where raged the fiercest struggles against oppression, and rocked in the cradle of liberty, my heart melts within me, when I think of the injustice and treachery which have been practised upon the original owners of our glorious domain — of the fetters which freemen have rivetted upon limbs hitherto untrammelled, and tender to the touch of shame and degradation. We have much to answer for, in our treatment of the aborigines. The horrors of battles which fraud and injustice, born of cupidity, have provoked, may for a time hide the truth from the public eye. But history will avenge the wronged; and repentance will come when it is too late. When every vestige of the race has departed— when the arts of speculators and the arts of war shall have accomplished their work then may come untimely regrets, and unavailing sympathies the cant of political affectation, or the misplaced sensibility of the pseudo philanthropist. May real contrition, and timely sorrow for the past, avert our fears for the future!

-

A WORD

TO THE STUFFED SHARK, AT THE AMERICAN

MUSEUM.

WOULD thou couldst tell the wonders thou hast seen
'In the deep bosom of the ocean buried,'

Of spar-like gems of purest ray serene,'

With which the deep sea-caves are starred and serried:

I envy thee the grand tour submarine

I almost envy Jonas, who was ferried

In a whale's maw, three days and nights, the sinner!
And then cast up- - an undigested dinner!

* Col. M'KENNEY, late Superintendent of the Bureau of Indian Affairs.

'POOR MARY is no more! She breathed her last on Thursday, just as the sun was sinking to his rest. You remember her singular beauty the rose-leaf bloom of her cheek, and the lustre of her large dark eye. Alas! they were but the harbingers of premature decay. Yet we little thought so, one short year ago, as we gazed in admiration upon features glowing with youth and beauty, and saw the radiant color come and go, with tidings from her heart, as if it were a running messenger to that glad source. But she is gone- and the fond eyes that have seen her will see her no more! A little while before she died, in an interval of pain, she desired her sister to bring a mirror, that she might behold the ravages which disease had wrought. Her request was granted — and never shall forget the affecting scene which ensued -the solemn monitions with which it was LETTER FROM A FRIEND.

fraught.'

BEING A FARTHER ACCOUNT OF THAT GENTLEMAN, TRANSCRIBED FROM THE FIDGET PAPERS.'

'Why I descend,

Is partly to behold my lady's face,

But chiefly to take thence from her dear finger
A precious ringa ring that I must use.'

ROMEO AND JULIET.

CAPTAIN PERCY returned from his morning ride, and alighting from his foam-flecked horse, before the spacious steps of the Tremont House, he gave the panting animal in charge to a groom who was waiting, by appointment, to receive him. The slayer of men was the crack rider of the Guards, and he never felt in better humor with himself than when he had been witching the gay world with his unrivalled horsemanship. His air and dress were both elegant; the former frank and easy, with nothing of a military hauteur, or a martinet-like stiffness, and the latter well calculated to set off, to the very best advantage, his athletic and classical frame. A handsome frock, of dark claret, profusely trimmed with frogs and braid, was buttoned to his throat; his white pantaloons were strapped over matchless boots, radiant with Day and Martin, and a pair of military spurs, that had glittered in the van of battle, shone upon his heels. His whitegloved hands toyed with an ivory-mounted riding-whip, and a rich cap of black velvet, set jauntily on the side of his head, harmonized

in color with his raven curls, and the brief moustache that gave a sort of fascinating ferocity to the expression of his upper lip.

Captain Percy, we repeat, was never in better humor; but his gayety was like that which Romeo calls a lightning before death,' for it instantly gave way before a dun.

'Master told me to give you this,' said the groom, presenting a bill: 'it's run up to fifty dollars, and he'd like to have you settle it.'

'He's very kind,' said the captain, thrusting the paper into his pocket. You can go, man.' The ostler gallopped off.

I wish there was some way of raising money without trouble,' said the gallant captain, to himself. Money is the root of all evil, but hang me if I like to dig for it.' So saying, he sauntered up the elegant steps, and entered the Tremont House. The first person he encountered was the bar-keeper. You desired me to make out your bill some time ago,' said the Ganymede; 'here it is, Sir. As soon as convenient, if you please.'

'Whenever you will,' answered the destroyer of armies. But he lounged away, and ascended to his room.

6

'It is all gone!' said the sacker of cities, when he found himself alone. I'm cleaned out, 'egad! every rap.' As he thus soliloquized, in the bitterness of his soul, he thrust his hands into his pockets, and like Milton's cloud, turned their silver lining' outward. A few shillings fell upon the floor. 'This is a deuced hard country to exist in continued the discontented captain. I was told that living was cheap, and the natives gullable; but I find expenses high, and as for cozening the Yankees, by Jove! its diamond cut diamond. How to replenish there's the rub! It would ruin one's reputation to borrow, and as for levying contributions in an illegal way, I have done with that.' Ah! I have it!' he added, after a pause, in which a bright thought flashed upon his mind: I have it! - and it shall be done.'

Leaving him to dress, and prepare for the execution of his project, we shall make a call upon a lady.

MISS EMMA SALLOW lived with her aunt, Mrs. Caution, in a small but pretty house, at some distance from the centre of the city. This lady was merely tolerated in good society,' because her fortune had been made by her deceased father, in the exercise of an honorable but humble calling. To the world, she passed for a fashionable lady, because she was seen with fashionable ladies, as a false diamond among true brilliants is not detected at a distance. She was a simple, goodnatured person, fond of rouge and dress, insomuch so, that she resembled a coarse daub in a costly frame. She had her weaknesses, and them was an inordinate love of praise and this induced her among to listen complacently even to the compliments of Mr. Epic.

The needy, mediocre poet was expected this day, and Miss Emma was alone in her drawing room, wiling away the tedious moments of expectation, by playing an overture upon her grand piano.