similar manner—nay, in many parts of Scotland, till very recently, they were accompanied by festival, and often by revelry. The relics are then carried to the council-house of the nation, where they are hung for exhibition along the walls, with fresh presents destined to be interred along with them. Sometimes they are even displayed from village to village. At length, being deposited in a pit, previously dug in the earth, and lined with the richest furs, they are finally entombed. Tears and lamentations are again lavished, and during a few days, food is brought to the place. The bones of their fathers are considered by the Indians the strongest ties to their native soil; and when calamity forces them to quit it, these mouldering fragments are, if possible, conveyed along with them. Under the head of religious rites we may include medicine, which is almost entirely within the domain of superstition. The great warmth of affection which, amid their apparent apathy, the natives cherish for each other, urges them, when their friends are seriously ill, to seek with the utmost eagerness for a remedy; an order of men has thus arisen, entirely different from the rest of society, uniting the characters of priests, physicians, sorcerers, and sages. Nor are they quite strangers to some branches of the healing art: in external hurts or wounds, the cause of which is obvious, they apply various simples of considerable power, chiefly drawn from the vegetable world. Chateaubriand enumerates the ginseng of the Chinese, the sassafras, the three-leaved hedisaron, and a tall shrub called bellis, with decoctions from which they cure wounds and ulcers in a surprising manner. With sharp-pointed bones they scarify inflamed or rheumatic parts; and shells of gourds, filled with combustible matters, serve instead of cupping-glasses. They learned the art of bleeding from the French, but employed it sometimes rashly and fatally, by opening the vein in the forehead. They now understand it better; but their favourite specific in all internal complaints is the vapour-bath. To procure this, a small hut or shed is framed of bark, or branches of trees, covered with skins, and made completely tight on every side, leaving only a small hole through which the patient is admitted. By throwing red hot stones into a pot of water, it is made to boil, and thus emit a warm steam, which, filling the hut, throws the patient into a most profuse perspiration. When he is completely bathed in it, he rushes out, even should it be in the depth of winter, and throws himself into the nearest pond or river; and this exercise, which we should be apt to think sufficient to produce death, is proved by their example, as well as that of the Russians, to be safe and salutary. As a very large proportion of their maladies arise from cold and obstructed perspiration, this remedy is by no means ill chosen. They attach to it, however, a supernatural influence, calling it the