Sad Judah's scattered minstrels weep

Beside the streamlet's silver flood, While on the lonely willows sleep

The Harps of Beauty stained with blood. Tadmor and Balbec from their dust,

: Mourn o'er their fallen fanes of pride, And Edom from her grave of lust,

Howls sadly on the mountain side. Dark Ethiopia, sorrow brings,

In sorrow to her bitter lot,

While from her slime, black Sodom sings,
"Forgetting God, by God forgot."
And where the wondering travellers gaze
On mighty wall and time-worn tomb,
The solitary camel strays,

And scowling sand storm sweeps in gloom. And did the lands where Science sprung,

And mighty Monarchs held control, Where "Music heavenly maid was young"- ! Where Shiloh came, to save the soul,

In darkness sit for countless years,

A by-word to the wide spread earth,
In spite of groans, and sighs, and tears,
And golden hoards, and noble birth?
Then deeper far will be the gloom

That like a cloud shall wrap thy shore,
When Discord rears her mighty tomb,
And o'er thee, Ruin, writes "No MORE!"
By Bunker Hill the Turk may stand

And ask who rear'd its half built tower;
Or trace vast cities in the sand,

And seek in vain, their name and power. The bones of patriots may be piled

To warm the shins of Greek or Jew,
And where the loveliest hamlets smiled,
The Tartar's foot may brush the dew.
As brighter flashed thy morning light,

So darker shades shall rule thy night.
Illustrious shores now bathed in light,
The pride of God and man's desire,
Like Graccha gemmed with jewels bright—
Like Salem wrapped in holy fire.
Would you Oblivion's wave ride o'er,

And hear the nations call you blest;
Would mid the stars your Eagle soar,
And morning's purple bathe your crest?
Down in the dust in meekness bow,

And seek alone fair Virtue's crown; Before the world renew your vow, And hurl Disunion's banner down.

The Mummy ceased, his work was o'er
Then sought his tomb, and shut the door,
And slept, as he had slept before.

THE CANADIAN AVATAR.

{"On Sunday evening, the whole of the back country, above Laprairie, presented the awful spectacle of one vast sheet of lurid flame; and it is reported, that not a single rebel house has been left standing. God only knows what is to become of the surviving Canadians and their wives and families during the approaching winter, as nothing but starvation from hunger and cold stares them in the face. The integrity of the empire must be asserted, peace and prosperity must be secured to British subjects, even at the expense of the entire Nation Canadiene. The history of the past proves that nothing but sweeping them from the earth and laying their habitations level with the dust, will prevent renewed rebellions south of the St. Lawrence."-Montreal Herald, November 13, 1838.

At sunset they (the patriots) held out a flag of truce, which, though displayed three times, the British did not regard. They had orders to give no quarters and take no prisoners."-Letter from Ogdensburg, published in the New York American, November 22, 1838.

"By a despatch received from Colonel Turner, dated Cornwall, November 12, 9 P. M., we learn that all is going on brilliantly below-that Beauharnois was taken, all the prisoners released from the rebels, no rebels made prisoners, and that the country was all in flames."-Kingston U. C. Chronicle.]

CAN the warriors of England then glory in shame,
And consent to seek laurels mid the cottage's fire?
How the wail of the mother will trumpet their fame,

And the shriek of the babe give their deeds to the lyre!
What though the white flag of submission did wave,
An emblem of peace mid the havoc of strife,
No mercy they gave but the flame and the grave
No hope but the gleam of the cutlass and knife!

Yes, "brilliantly" burn the poor cottager's home,
Where innocence slept with her beautiful ones,
By the sweet silver streamlet, or mountain rill's foam,
By Lawrence' proud stream, that in majesty runs,
The vale where the foot of the stranger scarce trod,-
The rifle that looked but the deer in the face,-
The hind that could barely pay homage to God,-

Are these the refused of the conqueror's grace?

Reck you the cost of your blood-sustained sway,

The Widows, the Orphans whose land you devourOr that England shall feel in her terrible day,

That God is above you in spite of your power.
Forget you that Truth is still beaming in Heaven,
Know you not Justice, though sleeping, is sure,
And that the destruction your mercy has given,
It may call for a kindred destruction to cure?
And America, too, on her pillow reclined,

Calmly folded her hands on her bosom of cold,
As though the oppressed could no precedent find,
For spurning their chains like our fathers of old,
Rebellious are they who would govern themselves,
Rebellious are they who would scorn to be slaves,
Take down your bright volumes from History's shelves,
And open the seals of
your forefather's graves;-

Read out the proud story from letters of gold,

And hurl back the libel that darkens their way,
The stars and the stripes when in glory unrolled,
Were the symbols of rebels as guilty as they.
We weep for the brave who their fetters despise
And kindle with rapture at Liberty's birth,
And while we would fan her bright flame to the skies,
Have our hearts not a pulse for the trampled to earth?

When the yoke of the spoiler has galled the proud neck,
And the iron of terror sunk deep in the soul,
When nothing is left but a plank of the wreck,

In the night of that storm that o'er England may roll; Then Liberty's life may awaken the bones

That bleach on the shores of the fair Chaudiere, And a nation come forth from its bondage and groans As proud as the land in its loveliness here.

When the seraph of light in the sunbeam shall stand,

And call the nations of Earth to the Judgment of God, Where sheeted in crimson the hosts of the land,

Render up to the wine-press of Vengeance their bloodAye then shall the wail of the butchered be heard, And the shriek of the infant ring terribly clear, And the tyrants of Earth in the Day of the Lord, Know the mercy deserved by the merciless here.

LETTER FROM WILLIAM E. STONE. ESQ.

The following letter from Wm. L. Stone, Esq., will be read with interest, as settling in a definite and satisfactory manner, the interesting historical fact that Brant was not at the Battle of Wyoming, and had neither act nor part in that relentless massacre, with which his name, in history, and in poetry, has been alike identified. The "Historic Doubts," which our article on Colonel Stone's work, interposed between all previous record and tradition on the subject, and the unequivocal ex emption from any connection with the matter, which was so confidently and unexpectedly claimed for the Mohawk chief by his biographer, have been productive of a happy effect, in inducing an investigation on the part of that careful author, which may be said to have set the question finally at rest.

That the evidence on this point now brought forward by Colonel Stone, may be re corded in connexion with the position it controverts, we prefer inserting it in the present volume, to delaying it for a second article which we had contemplated on this very interesting and important work, embracing several historical questions of moment, which did not fall within the scope of our former paper. In publishing it we cheerfully record our sense of the indefatigable pains, and sagacious industry, in search of facts, which so eminently distinguish Mr. Stone's historical works, and which so fully entitle his assertions in this respect to the confidence of his readers.

To the Editors of the Democratic Review:

NEW YORK, November 9, 1838. GENTLEMEN:-I owe you my thanks for the liberal space allotted in the October number of your spirited Magazine, to a review of my recent work illustrating the border history of the American Revolution, entitled the "Life of Brant." My acknowledgments are also due to the accomplished writer of that article, for the ability with which he has executed his task, and the favorable opinion he has expressed of the work.

I am aware that public acknowledgments of this description are unusual. But my reviewer having raised a question, for the purpose either of eliciting farther information, or of throwing doubt upon a fact assumed and defended in my work, it is not proper that I should pass it by unheeded. I must either sustain the position that has been questioned, or tacitly admit that it cannot be sustained.

The reviewer will readily comprehend the point to which I am inviting your attention. In conformity with the uniform declarations of Joseph Brant-or Thayendanegea-for I prefer calling him by his Indian name,-in conformity, moreover, with the traditions of his family, and with the oral testimony of his contemporaries in the British service,-and in the face of all the previous written history of the battle and massacre of Wyoming,-I have

assumed and positively asserted, that Thayendanegea was not engaged in that treacherous and bloody affair. My own impression that such was the fact, after a full examination of the case, amounted to positive belief, and I adduced such evidence as was at hand, to sustain the assertion. My reviewer, however, is not satisfied.

"We should be glad," says he, "to see this matter a little more fully explained. Where was Thayendanegea at the time? How engaged? Who are the British officers referred to by Mr. Stone, as the compurgators of Brant? Only one of them, a Mr. Frey is mentioned by name. John Brant, a son of Joseph, visited England in 1822, and with honorable filial piety strove, in correspondence with Mr. Campbell, to vindicate the memory of his father from the imputations connected with this matter, which the poem of Gertrude of Wyoming had disseminated wherever the Eng lish language is read. It is singular that neither the letter of John Brant, nor the documents he laid before Mr. Campbell, are given to us. We discover their unsatisfactory nature from Mr. Campbell's reply. He says: 'I rose from perusing the pa pers you submitted to me, certainly with an altered impression of his (Thayendane gea's) character. The evidence afforded induces me to believe that he often strove to mitigate the cruelty of Indian warfare. Lastly, you affirm that he was not within many miles of the spot where the battle which decided the fate of Wyoming took place, and, from your offer of reference to living witnesses, I cannot but admit the assertion.' We ask again, how many miles off was he when the battle was fought? Where was he AFTER the battle was fought, the next and the following days, when the Indians and Tories ravaged the valley, and drove the inhabitants to perish in the mountains? Who are the 'living witnesses' of his absence from the battle, even? When Gordon, Ramsay, Belsham, Adolphus, and, as Mr. Stone candidly admits, 'every written history of this battle extant, not even excepting the last revised edition of the Life of Washington, by Chief Justice Marshal;' when all these old accounts concur in representing Brant to have accompanied this expedition, the evidence should be very full, and very circumstantial, to establish the contrary 'in the face of every historical authority.' We confess to be not very well satisfied as to the whereabout and the occupation of the Mohawk chief, the man always present 'wherever a blow could be struck to advantage,' on this occasion, when his Indians were reaping such a plentiful harvest of blood and plunder among the blazing rafters of Wyoming. We need to see more evidence on the subject."*

The objection is taken in a rather imposing form, I admit, and the questions are speciously put. I likewise admit the ingenuity of the attempt to extract evidence against me from Mr. Campbell's letter, conceding the very fact I have asserted. The latter, however, may safely be left to speak for itself. My business is with the questions. "Where was Thayendanegea at the time?" [ of the Battle of Wyoming.] "How engaged?" "Where was he AFTER the battle was fought, the next and the following days?" Really, Messrs. Editors, these are questions which it never occurred to me that I should be required to answer. Thayendanegea was a son of the forest, and the wide wildernesses of the Continent " were all before him where to choose." He may have been upon the war-path in some other direction. He may have been upon the chase or in attendance upon a council of his people-any where but at Wyoming. There he was not. But all this does not an

* Democratic Review, No. X., October, 1838.