Before the subjugation of Canada by the British, the New England settlements were constantly exposed to the hostilities of the eastern Indians, and a spirit of jealousy and revenge was kept up, not only between the different nations, but also between individuals. The boundaries of the different territories being loosely defined, left both sides exposed to real or fancied encroachments; so that pretexts for war were always at hand. The French Jesuits had planted themselves among the Indian tribes at an early period; and at the beginning of the eighteenth century, they had two churches among the eastern Indians, the one at Penobscot, and the other at Norridgewock, within the boundaries of the present State of Maine.

At the latter resided the Jesuit Sebastian Rasle, a man of talent, learning and address, who, by accommodating himself to the Indian mode of life, and maintaining a gentle, condescending deportment, had completely won the affection of the savages, and his influence over them was supreme. Knowing the power of superstition over their minds, he took advantage of this, and of their prejudice against the English, to strengthen the interest of the French among them. He even made the offices of devotion serve as incentives to their ferocity, and kept a banner on which was depicted a cross surrounded by bows and arrows, which he was accustomed to hoist on a pole at the door of his church, and gave the Indians absolution, previous to their setting out on a warlike expedition.

The governor of Canada held a constant correspondence with this Jesuit, and received through his hands information of anything that transpired among the tribes in that quarter. From these individuals, the savages received every encouragement to assert their title to lands occupied by the English, and to molest the settlers, by killing their cattle, burning their haystacks, and robbing and insulting them. Many of the inhabitants, alarmed by these demonstrations of hostility, removed from the frontiers in 1720. The garrisons were reinforced, and scouting parties were sent abroad, which checked, for a time, the hostile movements of the Indians, who were compelled, the same year, to give hostages for their good behavior. This last requisition was highly disrelished by the governor of Canada, who renewed his efforts to keep up the quarrel, and secretly promised to supply the Indians with arms and ammunition, although, as Great Britain and France were not then at war, he could not openly assist them. The New England governments obtained information of these intrigues; yet, though highly incensed, they judged it best not to rush into hostilities. The main dispute lay between the Indians and the proprietors of the eastern lands, and the public were not directly concerned in it. No blood had as yet been shed within the limits of the English territory.

Rasle was considered to be the principal instigator of the Indians, and it was thought that if he were removed, all would be quiet. A proposal was made to send the sheriff of York county with a posse of a hundred and fifty men, to seize him and bring him to Boston; but this bold stroke was not ventured upon. In the summer of 1721, Rasle, in company with the Count de Castine from Penobscot, and Croisil from Canada, appeared at one of the English garrisons, and presented a letter, written in the name of the several Indian tribes, to Governor Shute of Massachusetts, declaring that “if the English did not remove in three weeks, they would kill them and their cattle, and burn their houses.” The lands in question were comprehended within the limits of the English patents, and the settlers were considered the only legal proprietors. They had been accustomed to obtain regular deeds of sale from the Indians, and pay them a valuable consideration; but some of these titles were of obscure and uncertain original, and the memory of such transactions is soon lost among people who possess no written records. The Indians easily forget the sales made by their ancestors, or imagine that such bargains are not binding upon their posterity.

The Massachusetts government, on receiving this menacing epistle, sent an additional force to the Maine frontier, and being desirous to avoid a rupture, invited the Indians to a conference, from which the French emissaries were to be excluded. This invitation was treated with neglect; and in the succeeding winter, a party under Colonel Westbrooke was ordered to Norridgewock, to seize Rasle. They reached the village undiscovered, but before they could surround his house, he had escaped into the woods, leaving his papers in his strong box, which they brought away without committing any act of violence. Among these papers were his letters of correspondence with the governor of Canada, which afforded positive proof that he was deeply engaged in intrigues to incite the Indians to hostilities. The savages were enraged at this attempt to seize their spiritual father, and resolved upon revenge. In the summer of 1722, they made a descent upon the settlements at Merry Meeting Bay, and captured nine families. Dismissing some of the prisoners, they retained enough to secure the redemption of their hostages in the hands of the English, and sent them off to Canada. Their next attack was on the fort at St. George, on the Ameriscoggin, where they were repulsed with considerable loss. They afterwards surprized some fishing vessels in the eastern harbors; and at length made a furious attack on the town of Brunswick, which they destroyed. These hostilities determined the government of Massachusetts to issue a declaration of war against them, which was published in form at Boston and Portsmouth, on the 25th of July, 1722.

(To be continued.)

Echoes.

Echoes reside, for the most part, in ruined abbeys, in caverns, and in grottoes; they reverberate among mountains, whisper in the areas of antique halls, in the windings of long passages and in the melancholy aisles of arched cathedrals. There is an ancient portico near the temple of Clymenos, in the district of Cythonias, which repeats every given sound three times.

At Woodstock there was one which was said to have returned seventeen syllables during the day, and twenty in the night. In the sepulchre of Metella, the wife of Sylla, an echo repeated five different times, in five different keys; and it is said that on the banks of a river, near Coblentz, an echo recited seventeen times. He who spoke or sung could scarcely be heard, and yet the responses were loud and distinct, clear and various; sometimes appearing to approach, and at other times to come from a great distance, much after the manner of an Æolian harp.

In the cemetery of the Abercorn family, at Paisley, in the county of Renfrew, there is an echo exceedingly beautiful and romantic. When the door of the chapel is shut, the reverberations are equal to the sound of thunder. Breathe a single note in music, and the note ascends gradually with a multitude of echoes, till it dies in soft and most bewitching murmurs. If the effect of one instrument is delightful, that of several in concert is captivating, exciting the most tumultuous and rapturous sensations. In this chapel, lulled by ethereal echoes, sleeps Margery, the daughter of Bruce, the wife of Wallace and the mother of Robert, king of Scotland.