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gw y CHEROKEE - '***'■: PHOENIX. VOL. I. NEW ECHOTA, WEDNESDAY SEPTEMBER 3, 1828. NO. 27. EDITED BY ELIAS B0UD1N0TT. PRINTED WEEKLY BY ISAAC H. HARRIS, FOR THE CHEROKEE NATION. . At $2 50 if paid ifl advance, $3 in six months, or $3 50 if paid at the end of the year. To subscribers who can read only the Cherokee language the price will be $2,00 in advance, or $2,50 to be paid within the year. Every subscription will be considered as continued unless subscribers give notice to the contrary before the commencement of a new year. Any person procuring six subscribers, and becoming responsible fofr the payment^.. shall receive a seventh gratis. Advertisements will be inserted seven ty-five cents per square for the first inser tion, and thirty-seven and a half cents for each continuance; longer ones in propor tion. ICF’All letters addressed to the Editor, post paid, will receive due attention. OIVy ^)D fiS» JECuCSJL feAT»X«>a TA-Af* V*V" JIufBAJ I-4o®a. b®jie jhWiiJo®y KT/1 d^jp o^e.iBa I-40® Jl, TGTZ TEiMO v <r 5 TGTZ f^P TcSO-A. TB DOJ«5o6I-OT)Jt, KT (pbjbj; dsji>%o®ez tb yw D0J^»®I-o®^, O-y.TT D^P O’OJBa Iv4o®a. cwyz o’&.r aiiWh.i(»y, wp*v* ds-9 O»0JBJ[ I-4o®.I tf’jaBlT’, TCTZ TE«i5(Hr° D0* J.5o®Ivo®a. KTJ1Z D#P ytV tfli O 3 * JtB-/T U.IR Dej^o®I-d®J[. AGENTS FOR THE CHEROKEE PHtENIX. The following persons arc authorized to receive subscriptions and payments for the Cherokee Phoenix. Henry Hill, Esq. Treasurer of the A. B. C. F. M. Boston, Mass. Georoe M. Tracy, Agent of the A. B. C. F. M. New York. Rev. A. D. Eddy, Canandaigua, N. Y. Thomas Hastings, Utica, N. Y. Pollard & Converse, Richmond, Va. Rev. James Campbell, Beaufort, S. C. William Moultrie Reid, Charleston, sc. Col. George Smith, Statesville, W. T. William M. Combs, Nashville Ten. Rev. Bennet Roberts—Powal Me. Mr. Thos. R. Gold, (an itinerant Gen tleman.) Jeremiah Austil, Mobile Ala. [CONTINUED.] WASHINGTON AND THE CHERO- - KEES. . Monday, January 9th 1792. Bloody fellow. I shall explain my self fully and hide nothing from you. When we were assembled at Astan- olay, before we left our Nation, as I mentioned the other day, just as we be gan our business arrived Chinabee, the Chief of the Natchez, and of the Creek Nation, we were glad that he arrived at that moment, as he was sent by his Nation. He spoke to us, and said that he was glad to find us assembled, as he was sent by the Chiefs of his Na tion with a talk to the President, re commending tQ him the Chiefs of the Cherokees who should go to Philadel phia. He said we are near neighbours and ought to be as one people. We have been to Congress and settled our business to our satisfaction; but you have still a deficiency; go then to Con gress and have your affairs settled as ours are. He further desired us to believe what the President should say to us, and that he would attend to us because we were recommended by him (Chin- abee,) so that our children might grow up in peace, and that the red and white people should hereafter be as one.— Chinabee ako said, I look upon the Cherokees as our elder brothers—I judge that they will be fully satisfied with the success of their journey—that upon their return I shall hear all this in a talk from them—and I shall come for that purpose. Chinabee desired particularly, that We'should say that Bowles’ arrival had excited disturbances in the minds of the Creeks, who wished to know from General Washington, what authority Bowles had for this conduct. That this answer was earnestly requested ttpon our return, in order that the Creeks might know how to conduct themselves against Bowles in the af fair. This is an important point, on which we desire full information.— This is all the talk from the Creeks, and a$ a proof of the truth of it, we give you a string of beads from them in token of their friendship. [The Bloody fellow then presented the Secretary of War with a single string of white Wampum.] Hear now the talk from the Chicka saw and Choctaw Nations! This talk was brought by Chenowie and another Chickasaw, and two Choctaws, who came together to Tatokie, or the toWn of the springs, below Chickama- ga, on the Tennessee, in the month of September last.—They said: “We were sorry our elder brothers, “that we could not come while you “were setting upon business with Go- “vernoy Blount, but we were inform ed of the matter too late. But un derstanding that you are about set- “ing out for General Washington, we “desire, that he would hear what you “should say in our behalf, and on your “return we will again attend upon you “to learn the news.” “Tell General Washington, that “the Carolina people ought not to he “appointed to hold talks with the In dians. as they always ask for land, “and that we desire a person to be “appointed by him who will not ask “for our lands, but do justice to the “white and red people. We have “proved that we have regarded Gen- “eral Washington’s words—and we “now desire, that he will make the “white people equally quiet, and not “breed disturbances.” Here ends the talk of the Chicknsaws and Choc taws, which is confirmed by this string of heeds. [The Bloody fellow then presented a string of white Wampum] and said: When Nantuaka returned from Gen eral Washington, two years ago, he sent good talks to all the nations, of the kindness with which he was treat ed, and of the intentions of General Washington to do justice to the red people about their lands. We hope General Washington has not forgotten the good talks to Nontuaka, we desire nothing more. Having now fully explained my bu siness, I will tell you what our belov ed men and warriors told us when we left our country. They told us to make haste, to fin ish our business and to return as soon as possible, so that by fully informing them of the good dispositions of Gene ral Washington, measures might be taken to restrain the young warriors, whose minds are greatly disturbed by the proceedings of last summer. The Kingfisher. We have fully ex plained every thing—I am a witness to it—I hope all things will be finish ed well; I have never been for sped- ding the blood of our elder brothers, and I hope we shall always live in peace and friendship. The Bloody fellow. We now men tion a small circumstance for your consideration. A young man by the name of George who is now with us, and who served your troops, has com plained to us, that he never received any pay, think of this. We earnestly entreat, that General Washington would now send a man with us who shall protect us in our lands and be our friend; and who will explain all things, and at all times.— He shall reside with us and we will take care of him. If two men were now to be sent it would be better than one. Nontuaka. I have attended to the talks of the President, delivered two years ago in New York, and always believing in his words, I have per suaded our warriors to repair again to the President, knowing we should have justice done us fully; and it makes my heart glad to find myself under the roof of my friend who treated me so kindly when in New York. We are noiv here, and have ex- f lained ourselves upon our business-— hope all things will be done to our satisfaction, and that we shall be sent away with good news, so that all our people may be made glad upon our re turn home. * [The Chiefs having thus explained themselves, it was agreed that they should meet the Secretary of War, at his house on Wednesday the 11th instant, to receive his answer.] FORMATION OF CHARACTER. From J. Hawes’ ‘Lectures to Young Men.’ It is ever to he kept in mind that a good name is in all cases the fruit of personal exertion. It is not inherited from parents; it is not created by ex ternal advantages; it is no necessary appendage of birth, or wealth, or tal ents, or station; but the result ofone’s own endeavors—the fruit and reward of good principles, manifested in a course of virtuous and honorable ac tion. This is the more importait to he remarked, because it shows that the attainment of a good name, jwhat- ev.er he your external circumstinces, is entirely within your power. No young man, however humble his Wi th, or obscure his condition, is excluded from the invaluable boon. He has on ly to fix his eye upon the prize, and press towards it, in a course of virtu ous and useful conduct, and it s his. And it is interesting to notice hon ma ny of our worthiest and best citizens have risen to honor and usefulness by dint of their own persevering exer tions. They are to be found, in greaj numbers, in each of the learned pro fessions, and in every department of business; and they stand forth, bright, and animating examples of what can be accomplished by resolution and ef fort. Indeed, my friends, in the for mation of character, personal exertion is the first, the second, and the third virtue. Nothing great, or excellent can be acquired without it. A good name will not come without being sought. All the virtues of which it is composed are the result of untiring application and industry. Nothing can be more fatal to the attainment of a good character than a treacherous confidence in external advantages.— These, if not seconded by your own endeavors, will “drop you mid-way; or perhaps you will not have started, when the diligent traveller will have won the race.” , Thousands of young men have been ruined by relying for a good name on their honorable parentage, or inherit ed wealth, or the patronage of friends. Flattered by these distinctions, they have felt as if they might live without plan and without effort—merely for their own gratification and indulgence. No mistake is more fatal. It always issues in producing an inefficient and useless character. On this account it is that character and wealth rarely continue in the same family more than two or three generations. The young er branches, placing a deceptive con fidence in an hereditary character, neglect the means fc of forming one of their own, and often exist in society only a reproach to the worthy ances try whose name they bear. In the formation of a good charac ter, it is of great importance that the early part of life be improved and guard ed with the utmost diligence and care fulness. It was remarked in a former lecture, that the most critical period of life is that which elapses from four teen to twenty-one years of age.— More is done during this period to mould and settle the character of the future man, than in all the other years of life. If a young man passes this season with pure morals and a fair reputation, a good name is almost sure to crown his maturcr years, and de scend with him to the close of his days. On the other hand, if a young man, in this spring season of life, ne glects his mind and heart; if he indul ges himself in vicious courses, and forms habits of inefficiency and sloth fulness, he experiences a loss which no efforts can retrieve, and brings a slain upon his character which no tears can wash away. Life will inevitably take much of its shape and coloring from the plas tic powers that are now operating.— Every thing almost depends upon giv ing a proper direction to this outset of life. The course now taken is usual ly decisive. The principles now a- dopted, and the habits now formed, whether good or bad, become a kind of second nature, fixed and perma nent. Youthful thoughtlessness, I know, is wont to regard the indiscretions and vicious indulgences of this period, as of very little importance. But be lieve me, my friends, they have great influence in forming your futtwre char acter, and deciding the estimation in which you are to be held in the com munity. They are the germs of bad habits; and bad habits confirmed arc ruin to the character and the soul.— The errors and vices of a young man even when they do not ripen into habit impress a blot on the name, which is rarely effaced. They are remember ed in subsequent life; the public eye is often turning back to them’; the stigma is seen; it cleaves fast to the character, and its unhappy effects are felt to the end of his days. “A fair reputation, it should be re memberccl, is a plant delicate in its nature, and by no means rapid in its growth. It will not shoot up in night, like the gourd that shaded the prophet’s head; but like that same gourd, it may perish in a night.” character which it has cost many years to establish is often destroyed in a sin gle hour, or even minute. Guard, then, with peculiar vigilance, this forming, fixing season of your exist ence; and let the precious days and hours that are now passing by you, be diligently occupied in acquiring those habits of intelligence, of virtue and enterprise, which are so essential to the honor and success of future life. To the formation of a good charaic- ter it is of the highest importance that j ou have a commanding object in view, and that your aim in life be elevated.— To this cause, perhaps, more than to any other, is to be ascribed the great difference which appears in the char acters of men. Some start in life with an object in view, and are deter mined to attain it; whilst others live without plan, and reach not for the prize set before them. The energies of the one are called into vigorous ac tion, and they rise to eminence, whilst the others are left to slumber in ig noble ease, and sink into obscurity. It-is an old proverb, that he who aims at the sun, to be sure will not reach it, but his arrow will fly higher than if he aimed at an object on a lev el with himself. Just so in the forma tion of character. Set your standard high; and, though you may not reach it, you can hardly fail to rise higher than if you had aimed at some inferior excellence. Young men are not, in general, conscious of what they are capable of doing. They do not task their faculties, nor improve their pow ers, nor attempt, as they ought, to rise to supenqr excellence. They have no high, commanding object at which to aim; but often seem to be passing away life without object and without aim. The consequence is, their ef forts are few aqd feeble; they are not waked up to any thing great or distin guished; and therefore fail to acquire a character of decided worth. My friends, you may be whatever you resolve to be. Resolution is omnipotent. Determine that you will be something in the world, and you shall be some thing. Aim at excellence, and ex cellence will be attained. This is the great secret of effort and emin ence. I cannot do it, never accom plished any thing; • / ivill try, has wrought wonders. You have all, per haps, heard of the young man who, having wasted, in a short time, a large patrimony in profligate revels, formed a purpose, while hanging over the brow of a precipice from which he had determined to throw himself, that he would regain what he had lost.'—■ The purpose thus formed he kept; and though he began by shovelling a load of coals into a cellar, he proceed ed from one step to another, till he more than recovered his lost posses sion, and died an inveterate miser, worth sixty thousand pounds. I men tion this, not as an example to be imi tated, but as a signal instance of what can be accomplished by fixed purpose and persevering exertion. A,. young; man who sets out in life with a deter v mination to excel, can hardly fjtjT of his purpose. Thqj’e is,'in fiis case, a steadinessooflfim—a concentration of feeling and effort which bear him on ward to .object with irresistible en ergy, and render success, in whatever he undertakes, certain. Another thing of great importance in the formation of a gcrod character, intercourse with persons of decided vir tue and excellence. The power of ex ample is proverbial. We are creatures of imitation, and by a necessary in fluence, our temper and habits are ve ry much formed on the model of those with whom we familiarly associate. In this view, nothing is of more im portance to young men than the choice of their companions. If they select for their associates the intelligent, the virtuous, and the enterprising, great and most happy will be the effects on their own character and habits.— With these living, breathing patterns of excellence before them, they can hardly fail to feel a disgust at every thing that is low, unworthy and vi cious, and he inspired with a desire to advance in whatever is praiseworthy and good. It is needless to add, the opposite of all this is the certain con sequences of intimacy with persons of bod habits and profligate lives. Young men are, in general, but lit tle aware how much their reputation is affected in the view of the public, by the company they keep. The character of their associates is soon regarded as their own. 'If they seek the society of the worthy and the re spectable, it elevates them in the public estimation, as it is an evidence that they respect themselves, and are desirous to secure the respect, of oth ers. On the contrary, intimacy with persons of bad character, always sinks a young man in the eye of the pilhlic. While he, perhaps, in intercourse with such persons, thinks but little of the consequences, others are making their remarks; they learn what his taste is; what sort of company he pre fers, and predict, on no doubtful ground, what will be the issue to his own principles and character. There are young men, and those too, who have no mean opinion of themselves, to be intimate with whom would be as much as one’s reputation is worth. And let me add, under this head, that a young man may choose his com pany. If he wishes for good society, he can find it. If he respects himself he will be respected. If he is virtu ous and intelligent; if he is modest and unassuming—benevolent, enterpri sing, he ivill meet with very little difficulty in connecting himself with those of similar character. The path of virtuous and honorable conduct is unobstructed, and open to all; and ma ny there are to be seen walking in it; so that if there are young men who are excluded from good society, the fault is their own. .4 Villain.—'On Monday last, a man named George Hamilton, alias M’Car- thy, was arrested on the charge of hav ing endeavored to entrap a little girl into a house of ill fame. This morn ing he was brought over and examined, in the course of which it appeared that he had, in December last, been convicted of a grand larceny, and sen tenced to the State Prison. The ma gistrates (Wyman and Hopson) ad judged him as a vagrant to six months hard labor in the Penitentiary; but just as he ivas about being removed, Mr. Nichols, an officer from the Na vy Yard, recognized him ae a deserter.