they do not possess,
while the white man is in need of furs, and does not possess them. It
is for the good of each that we should exchange. The Great Spirit, who
is all-wise, as well as all-good, has seen fit to scatter His children
over a wide world, and He has given some of them too much of one thing,
some of them too much of another. Why has He done so? May we not think
that it is for the purpose of causing His children to move about the
world, and mingle, and help each other, and so increase Love? Some of
the bad children prefer to move about and steal. But there is no need.
It is easier to do good than to do evil. If all men would help and none
would steal, there would be more than enough for all."

Again a pause. Some of the savages, who were thoughtful men, were
greatly tickled in their minds by the arguments set forth. Others, who
could not understand, were deeply impressed.

"Now," continued Lumley, coming to the marrow of his discourse, "the
red-men have more than enough of furs."

"Waugh!" in a tone of emphasis, that implied "that's true."

"And the pale-faces have few furs, but want some very much."

"Waugh?" interrogatively, in a tone that implied "what then?"

"Well, but the pale-faces are not poor. They are rich, and have far too
much of many things. They have far too much of those pleasant sweet
things called sugar and molasses (the Indians involuntarily licked their
lips). Too much cloth as bright as the sun at setting, and as blue as
the sky at noon (the Indian eyes glistened). Too many guns, and too
much powder and shot (the savage eyes glared). They have more beads,
and blankets, and hatchets, and tobacco, than they know what to do with,
so they have sent some of these things here to be given to you in
exchange for furs, and food, and leather."

The waughs! and hows! and hos! with which these remarks were followed up
were so hearty, that Lumley thought it best to make a considerable pause
at this point; then he resumed:--

"But, my brothers,"--he stopped for a considerable time, and looked so
grave, that the hearts of the red-men sank, lest the glorious vision
which had been suddenly revealed to them, should be as suddenly
withdrawn in some way.

"But," repeated Lumley, again, with a sort of awful emphasis, "the
pale-faces detest war. They can fight--yes, and when they _must_ fight,
they _will_ fight, but they do not love fighting, and if they are to
stay here and open up tr