would here observe, that he wonders any person guilty of a dark skin will submit to such unchristian usage, especially as the minister is as willing to shear his black sheep as his white ones. This being the case, ought he not to pay as much regard to them? Should he turn them loose to shift for themselves, at the risk of losing them?)

5th. We never were consulted as to his settlement over us, as a people. We never gave our vote or voice, as a tribe, and we fully believe that we are capable of choosing for ourselves and have the right to do so, and we would now say to you, that we have made choice of the Rev. Wm. Apes, of the Pequod tribe, and have adopted him as one of ours, and shall hear him preach, in preference to the missionary, and we should like to have him aided, if you can do it. If not, we cannot help it—he is ours—he is ours.

Perhaps you have heard of the oppression of the Cherokees and lamented over them much, and thought the Georgians were hard and cruel creatures; but did you ever hear of the poor, oppressed and degraded Marshpee Indians in Massachusetts, and lament over them? If not, you hear now, and we have made choice of the Rev. Wm. Apes to relieve us, and we hope that you will assist him. And if the above complaints and reasons, and the following resolutions, will be satisfactory, we shall be glad, and rejoice that you comply with our request.

Resolved, That we will rule our own tribe and make choice of whom we please for our preacher.

Resolved, That we will have our own meeting house, and place in the pulpit whom we please to preach to us.

Resolved, That we will publish this to the world; if the above reasons and resolutions are not adhered to, and the Rev. Mr. Fish discharged.

    The foregoing addresses and resolutions were adopted by a vote
    of the tribe, almost unanimous. Done at the Council House at
    Marshpee, May the 21st, 1833.

EBENEZER ATTAQUIN, President.

ISRAEL AMOS, Secretary.

The Hon. Josiah Quincy, President of the College, promised to attend to this matter, said that he had long been satisfied that the money from the Williams fund had not been applied to the object for which it was intended, and hinted at an intention to send no more to Mr. Fish till he should be better informed concerning the matter. (We understood that he actually did retain the money, though he never found leisure to make the inquiry alluded to.) He said that, had it been in the summer, he would have gone himself to the place. Summer has passed away, and we have seen no Mr. Quincy yet. We have heard that he was requested by several gentlemen to come and investigate our affairs, but we suppose he thinks that the poor Marshpees cannot have been wronged. However, as nothing has been done, we think it is time that the public should be made aware of our views and intentions.

Leaving Marshpee for New Bedford, I preached at several places on my way, and delivered lectures on Indian affairs. Many of the advocates of oppression became clamorous, on hearing the truth from a simple Indian's lips, and a strong excitement took place in that quarter.

Some feared that an insurrection might break out among the colored people, in which blood might be shed. Some called me an imposter, and others approved of my proceedings, especially the Quakers, whom I ever found benevolent and ready to help us. Their generous good will toward colored people of all races is well known. I feel bound to say, too, that there were others of the highest respectability in those parts who were anxious that their red brethren should obtain their rights and redress of their grievances.

When the time I had fixed for my return to my friends at Marshpee arrived, I turned thitherward, and reached the place on the sixth of June. Here I met the blind preacher, whom I had never before seen. He bade me welcome, and cordially agreed to join me in my labors, saying that God had listened to his prayers. He had for several years prayed for an assistant, and now consented to labor in conjunction with me for the spiritual and temporal advantage of our brethren. We went through the plantation together. On the Sabbath there was a large meeting, and the assistance of God enabled me to preach to them, after which we set forth, as a delegation to the Governor and Council in Boston. We stopped at several towns by the way, to discharge our duties, as Christian ministers, and were kindly and hospitably received by the teachers.

When we arrived in Boston, we communicated our business to a certain doctor, who lived in Roxbury. He did not think so favorably of it as we had expected; but, nevertheless, agreed to lay it before the board of trustees, which we presume he did, as he is a man of truth. We told him that we asked for justice, not money, and said that we wished the Marshpee Indians to avoid the meeting-house, if it did not belong to them. With this we left him, and have never heard from him from that day to this. He is gone where his deeds done in the flesh will receive their just reward; which I hope is a crown of blessedness and glory.

We did not find the Governor in Boston; but were advised to wait on Mr. Armstrong, the Lieut. Governor. We showed him our petition and resolutions, which he said, would avail us nothing, unless enforced. We answered that they would be enforced, at the appointed time. He then suggested that we might have been instigated to the measures in question by some of our enemies; probably meaning some of our unprincipled white neighbors. We replied that ill usage had been our only instigation, and that no one had interfered in the matter. He advised us to deliver our petition to the Secretary of State, to be submitted to the Council at their next session; which we did.

This done, we called on one of the tribe who was engaged in the coasting business, and had done much to teach the Indians, and to bring them to a right knowledge of their degraded condition. He said that he would willingly relinquish his business, and join in the efforts of his brethren to shake off the yoke which galled them; and thereupon it was resolved to hold a convention on the twenty-fifth of June, for the purpose of organizing a new government. He desired to be there, and his name is Daniel Amos.

I now set out for Essex, where my family was living, accompanied by the blind preacher. I put my wife and little ones on board a small vessel, bound for Boston, while I and my blind brother returned thither by land. We all arrived safely, and soon after embarked for Barnstable, where we arrived on the eighteenth of June, and landed at a spot about twelve miles distant from the hospitable Indians. Here we found ourselves breathing a new atmosphere. The people were very little prepossessed in our favor, and we certainly owe them small thanks on the score of hospitality. We succeeded in obtaining the shelter of an old stable for two nights, by paying two dollars. We applied to one individual for accommodations during that time, for one of our party who was sick, but were refused. He said he had no room. If any white man should come to Marshpee and ask hospitality for a night or two, I do not believe that one of the whole tribe would turn him from his door, savages though they be. Does not he better deserve the name who took from us two dollars for sleeping in his stable? This usage made me think that in this part of New England prejudice was strong against the