CHAPTER XV.

[Contents]CHAPTER XV.THE FUTURE OF THE NORTH AMERICAN INDIAN.Every historian and prophet who has preceded me, has reiterated the prediction that “the doom of the Indian is extinction!” I shall not contradict it; but I fearlessly say, this ought not so to be. Is it not a libel upon Christianity, that it is not fitted for all the people of the earth? Is it not a libel upon Him, “who made of one blood all nations;” who made the heavens and the earth; that He contemplated the happiness of only one portion, and instituted a system of religion fitted only for a few?He does not tell us that Christ came into the world, to be crucified and slain for the Saxon and the Norman alone! He died to redeem a world; and He said, “Go and preach the Gospel to all nations.” If He created a people incapable of receiving the Gospel and profiting by it, how strange the command that it should be preached to them. We look upon the instances of degeneracy among Indian youth who have been educated, and exclaim, “How fruitless are all our efforts!” without taking into consideration the true causes of this degeneracy, or the inefficacy of any means yet employed for the accomplishment of our ostensible object. Yet it is stated, that as far back as 1846, there were more Cherokees who could read the English or their own tongue, than could be[285]found among the white people, in proportion to the whole number, in any State of the Union!In 1818, a plan was conceived for educating the Indians of the whole country, by the Superintendent of Indian Affairs, which, though in operation but a few years, proved conclusively that the Indian was capable of any degree of cultivation. He obtained from Congress an appropriation of ten thousand dollars, annually, for his purpose; and with the cordial approbation and co-operation of various missionary and religious societies, established schools among the Indians all along upon our western borders, from Lake Superior to Chattahoochee,—in which were gatheredeighteen hundred children, “deriving instruction, and making as rapid advances in the various incipient branches of learning, in agriculture and the mechanic arts, as are made in any part of the United States by the children of white people.” Then arose a new power; the demons of avarice and selfishness ruled in the councils of our nation. These Indians, who had become a Christian people, with the religion of Christ for their religion—occupying lands, rich with the products of their industry—must be thrust forth, because they were a people of a darker hue than ourselves. So these flourishing schools were broken up; these happy children were deprived of all their means of improvement, and thousands of innocent people were compelled to leave their homes and firesides, and wend their way to the wilderness—leaving the pathway drenched with their tears, and stained with their blood.And even now, what has the Indian youth to awaken hope, and excite ambition? Not even yet, in the State of New York, is he granted the privileges of citizenship, though his claims, as native American, are prior to those of every Saxon on her soil. He is a land-owner, an agriculturist,[286]an educated, a Christian man—but still treated as if he were an idiot or a brute.The story of young James McDonald, in whom Colonel McKenney and Philip Thomas took so great an interest, illustrates the feelings of every red man, when he thinks of becoming like his white brethren. This young man was adopted into the family of Colonel McKenney, and being the age of his own son, enjoyed every privilege which he enjoyed. In the family and in the social circle they were equals, and were afforded the same advantages of education. The Indian youth was endowed with all the personal beauty of the noblest of his race, “with a manner the most gracious and winning,” said his adopted parent, “and a morality I never saw invaded.” Of his progress in study, when he had been only a little while at school, his teacher remarked, that “he came with his lessons better digested, and more Greek and Latin and mathematics in one of them, than the class to which he was attached could get through in a week,—so he was obliged to place him in a class by himself.”When he had finished his academical studies, his benefactor chose for him the profession of the law. But he had begun to think of the difference between the treatment he was then receiving, and that which awaited him when he should go forth in the world, and he exclaimed, “Wherefore! wherefore! Of what use to me will be my present or future attainments? Oh, sir,” pressing his hand against his forehead as he continued, “it will be all lost on me.I am an Indian, and being an Indian, I am marked with a mark as deep and abiding as that which Cain bore. My race is degraded—trodden upon—despised.” He then took from his bosom a letter from his brother, who was a lieutenant in the navy, and whose bitter experience had wrung from him the following words:[287]“There is only one of two things to do: either throw away all that belongs to the white race and turn Indian, or quit being Indian and turn white man.The first you can do—the latter it is not in your power to do.The white man hates the Indian, and will never permit him to come into close fellowship with him, or to be a participator in any of his high prerogatives or distinguished advantages.”When young James was asked if any thing in his experience in the family in which he lived, would justly lead him to such a conclusion, he answered: “No, sir; oh, no; no indeed. But this is an exception, and only serves to prove the rule. You are to me a father. My gratitude to you and your family can never die. I know I am treated with the greatest attention, even to tenderness.” The tears came to his eyes; he sat down and pressed his handkerchief to his face, until it was literally wet with weeping.After awhile he spoke, saying, “Yes, sir; I will go to Ohio and read law with Mr. McLean. I will do any thing that it may be your pleasure for me to do. I should indeed be an ingrate to thwart your kind designs towards me in any thing.But the seal is upon my destiny!”When the time was fixed for him to go, day after day he still lingered, so great was his reluctance to leave home, and father, and mother, and sisters and friends, to become, as he believed, an alien evermore. But he went, and in about half the time usually occupied in acquiring this profession, he was ready for the bar.He was a Choctaw, and when he had finished his studies he returned to his people, on a visit to his mother. Whilst there he was chosen one of a company of delegates to come to Washington on business, and Mr. Calhoun and others, who were engaged with him in transacting it, were[288]astonished at his powers and his acquisitions. But his adopted parent saw with the deepest anguish that he was endeavoring to blunt his keen sensibilities, and stifle the conflict in his bosom by the intoxicating draught. He could not endure that one so gifted and so beautiful should be thus destroyed, and sought many opportunities of remonstrating with him. At one time he reminded him of the days he had spent under his roof—those days of innocence, and honor, and bliss. He sprang to his feet and exclaimed,“Spareme! oh, spare me! It is that thought which makes me so miserable. I have lost that sweet home and its endearments; the veil which was so kindly placed between me and my Indian caste has since been torn away. I have been made to see since that I cannot, whilst such anomalous relations exist, as do exist between the red and the white race, be other than adegraded outcast.”He was invited to go back to that loved spot, and assured that the same welcome awaited him there that he had always experienced; but he said, “Oh, name it not to me, sir; I can never go there again! The very thought of those haunts where I was once so happy, and of the kindness shown me there, being met, as they are, andcrushedby the consciousness of what I now am, distracts me.”But he recovered, in some measure, his former self-reliance and cheerfulness, and returned to open a law office in Jackson, Mississippi, where his prospects were very flattering. Then came disappointed love, to ring again in his ears the doom of the red man, “You are an Indian—you belong to a degraded race.” Hope fled and despair took possession of him; he mounted a high bluff, overhanging the river, and precipitated himself into the water to rise no more. “Wherefore! wherefore!” He[289]might toil and earn money—riches might be within the reach, even of an Indian; but gold cannot satisfy a noble heart. He must not dream of honors, he must not dream of domestic happiness; and what is gold, aye, what is life, when all this is denied?Let it suddenly be revealed to all the youth in our colleges, as an unalterable destiny, that they are evermore debarred from distinction, and the hope of one day forming for themselves a home, and being surrounded by a circle of loved ones, and what would there be to allure them up the hill of science? Would not every energy be paralyzed, and should we not with certainty expect to see them go down to perdition? The love of knowledge merely, is a little better than the love of money; but both are very ignoble motives to inspire immortal minds, and support them on the pilgrimage through this world. The desire of the approbation of heaven and of being useful on earth may be good, and perhaps should be sufficient motives; but how many among the most cultivated and Christian would falter, with only these to sustain them?With a majority of people the idea is entertained that the nature of the Indian is so entirely different from the nature of the Saxon. This is true only in one sense—that education, and centuries of indulgence in peculiar habits, tend to make themsecond nature. The Indian is not alone in loving a wild roving life, free from care and toil.So late as 1826, restoration to home and kindred was offered to several women who had been made captive and carried beyond Lake Superior, and they rejected the boon. They had become entirely released from the trammels of society, and cared not to be encumbered with them again.Chateaubriandrelates, that when travelling through the wilds of America, he heard that he had a countryman[290]who had become a resident of the forest. He visited him, not so much with a desire to see his countryman, as of philosophizing upon his condition. After several hours’ conversation, he put his last grand question:“ ‘Phillip, are you happy?’“He knew not, at first, how to reply. ‘Happy?’ said he, reflecting—‘happy?—yes;—but happy only since I became a savage.’“ ‘And how do you pass your life?’ asked I. He laughed.“ ‘I understand you,’ continued I. ‘You think such a question unworthy of an answer; but should you not like to resume your former mode of living, and return to your country?’“ ‘My country—France? If I were not so old I should like toseeit again.’“ ‘And you would not remain there?’ The motion of Phillip’s head answered my question sufficiently. ‘But what induced you,’ continued I, ‘to become what you call a savage?’“ ‘I don’t know,’ said he—‘instinct.’“This expression put an end to my doubts and questions. I remained ten days with Phillip, in order to observe him, and never saw him swerve for a single moment from the assertion he had made.His soul, free from the conflict of the social passions, appeared, in the language of the Indian, calm as the field of battle, after the warriors had smoked together theircalumetof peace.”How many atrapperhas become wed to a forest life. I never yet heard of one who voluntarily returned to the plough and the anvil. Why, then, should we expect an Indian to seek them? The same necessity must be laid upon him as upon us, ere he will toil, and he must be inspired[291]with the same motives, ere he will prefer knowledge to ignorance.If there had been no wars in our country, except between the colonists and the Indians, Christianity might have been taught by example as well as precept. But three times since the settlement of America, the red man has been obliged to witness, and take part in bloody conflicts, between the very nations who professed to come to him with the religion which condemned war; and these nations were fighting about the very lands which they were constantly telling the Indian it was wrong for him to defend at the expense of life, though they were his birthright, and dear to him, as the inheritance of his fathers. Their invaders fought to defend what was not their own; why should not he defend what was his all?It is strange that there have been so many, rather than that there have been so few, who were willing to receive Christianity, and the arts of civilization, from their oppressors. The proud lord of the forest never consented to become subject or slave. When he yielded, it was to stern necessity; and when we remember what he had to give up, and that when we had taken from him his possessions, and all he held most dear, giving him nothing in return, but the privilege of living as best he could, never calling him, or treating him as brother, or freeman; we cannot fail to see that he has done exactly as we should have done in the same circumstances.As it was, the labors of Eliot and Mayhew, of Kirkland and Brainard, and many more in modern times, have not been without their reward. Mayhew wrote the lives of between one and two hundred “Christian men and women, and godly ministers,” and there is exhibited no difference between Indian Christians, and Christians of other nations.[292]What a beautiful illustration of Christian principle was the famous Oneida Chief, Shenandoah. For sixty years he had been the terror of all who heard his name, when he listened to the gospel message from Mr. Kirkland, and immediately became a little child, in meekness and every Christian grace. He lived more than a hundred years; and when, a little while before he died, a friend called and asked concerning his health, he said, “I am an aged hemlock; the winds of a hundred winters have whistled through my branches. I am dead at the top(referring to his blindness). Why I yet live, the Great Good Spirit only knows. When I am dead, bury me by the side of my good minister and friend, that I may go up with him at the great resurrection.”Kusick was a Tuscarora Chief, and where shall we look for a nobler instance of friendship than his towards Lafayette, or for Christian principle more firm and true than he evinced concerning his pension.In the war of the Revolution he was under Lafayette’s command. Many years after peace was concluded, as he was passing through Washington, he accidentally heard the name of his old commander spoken in the office where he stopped for business. The moment his ear caught the sound, with eyes lighted and full of earnestness, he asked:“Is he yet alive?”“Yes,” was the reply, “he is alive, and looking well and hearty.”With deep emphasis he said, “I am glad to hear it.”“Then you knew Lafayette, Kusick?”“Oh yes,” he answered, “I knew him well; and many a time in the battles, I threw myself between him and the bullets,for I loved him!”On being asked if he had a commission, he said “Yes, General Washington gave him one, and he was lieutenant.”[293]This suggested to his friends that he was entitled to a pension, and on looking over the records, the truth of what he said was confirmed, and he received one for several years.Afterwards, Congress passed a law making it necessary that each recipient should swear that he could not live without the pension. When the old chief was called upon to do this, he said, “Now here is my little log cabin, and it’s my own; here’s my patch where I can raise corn, and beans, and pumpkins; and there is Lake Oneida, where I can catch fish; with these I can make out to live without the pension, and to say I could not, would be tolie to the Great Spirit.” This was the honor of an Indian Chief; how many among those of our own people who receive pensions would have done likewise for conscience’ sake? Kusick could speak the English language very well, but when he made an audible prayer or said grace at table, he used his nativeTuscarora, “because,” said he, “when I speak English I am often at a loss for a word; when therefore I speak to the Great Spirit, I do not like to be perplexed, or have my mind distracted to look after a word. When I use my own language, it is like my breath; I am composed.” In this is exemplified that he fully understood the reverence which was due to the Great Ruler.Instances might be multiplied a hundred fold, to prove that the religion of Christ can soften and renew the heart of the fiercest warrior of the wilderness, as well as the heart of the child of civilization. The records of missions numbers forty thousand Indian converts; and, if only half these have become genuine followers of the cross of Christ, the patient and faithful missionary has not labored in vain.There is a little remnant still left among us; and if[294]these are permitted to perish, it will not be the fault of our fathers, and the dark age in which they lived. We know their wants and their capacities, and have abundant means for all the good we please to accomplish.Of the Iroquois there are three thousand; of Indians within our jurisdiction, three hundred thousand. They should be citizens of our republic; their oaths should be respected in our courts of justice; and their representatives should be in our national councils; then we should see hope dawn in their bosoms, and ambition revive their energies.One who had the means of making the estimate, and no motive for stating it incorrectly, says we have become possessed of all these fair domains at the paltry price oftwo cents and three quarters an acre! By robbery we have grown rich.It was suggested in Congress, not long since, that “a person be employed to collect and arrange the treaties, and other authentic documents, tending to illustrate the history of the relinquishment of land titles by native Indian tribes, and to prepare such means of illustration as may be necessary for a full knowledge of the acquirement of the States of the title to their lands.” To which it was answered: “Let us do no such thing. Let us rather gather up and destroy—commit to the flames all that records the progress of our acquisitions. Leave only to tradition, or forget entirely, the infamy which we acquired with the titles we enjoy—for who can look unmoved upon the parchment that tells how many miles square were bought with a few strings of paltry beads—how the council fires that had burned for ages were put out, and the bands that gathered round them for ages were scattered—their birthrights, their wigwams, and their hunting grounds bartered away for a score of worthless[295]rifles, or a bundle of useless trinkets,—how we first debased, and then defrauded, the children of the forest out of all their hills and valleys, their lakes and rivers, over which are scattered the millions whose representatives are asked to perpetuate the records of wrongs inflicted by their ancestors. Doubtless there was necessity for the wrong—for the extermination of one race, for the increase of another. But there exists no necessity that we should make a parade of the means by which that extermination was effected.Theymay be forgiven; we may, at least, forget them.”1It is too late to blot out these dark records; but it is not yet too late to prove that we“Are wiser than our ‘Fathers’ were,And better know the Lord.”It is confidently predicted that we are on the verge of another Indian war, more terrible than our country ever experienced; and yet with our rich, powerful, and consolidated government, it is perfectly possible to prevent this war. The Indian of the West is the same as the Indian of the East; and it is a thousand times better to soften his heart by kindness than to pierce it by a bullet.A traveller describes the following Sabbath morning scene, far beyond the confines of civilization, among the Chippewas, Menomonies, and Winnebagoes, where only the trader and the missionary had been.“The dawn of this Sabbath morning was peculiarly beautiful; ‘rosy fingers’ did seem ‘to unbar the gates of light.’ Violet and purple with a wide and widening circle of ‘orient pearl,’ all met my eye with their charming and chastening influences—and then there was such silence![296]Not a leaf rustled, and the waves broke in softer murmur on the shore. Yet, all this silence was broken in upon this morning—for, just between the time when the eastern sky was made mellow with the sun’s light, and the light began to tip the tops of tree and mountain, and all was so quiet, my ears were greeted by sweet sounds of music! They came from a lodge of Christian Indians, which was hard by in the woods. They had risen with the day ‘to worship God!’ They sang in three parts, base, tenor, and treble, and with a time so true, and with voices so sweet, as to add harmony even to nature itself. Notes of thrush and nightingale sound sweeter when poured forth amidst the grove; so sounded those of these forest warblers in the midst of the green foliage and in the stillness of the woods. I attended their worship, and was present with them again in the evening; and as I listened to their songs of praise, and their prayers, I felt humbled and ashamed of my country, in view of the wrongs it had inflicted,and still continues to inflict, upon these desolate and destitute children of the forest. There were flowers and gems there, which needed only to be cultivated and polished, to insure from the one the emission of as sweet odors as ever regaled the circles of the civilized; and from the other, a brilliance as dazzling as ever sparkled in the diadem of queenly beauty. And yet they were, and are, neglected, trodden down, and treated as outcasts!”But no missionary society has the means of accomplishing the work of carrying the gospel and education, to such a multitude of roving people, over such a wide extent of country. This is the duty of the government, and if wisely planned, would not be so difficult of execution. It would not cost so much as a war, and would save us from the retribution which must certainly come upon those who make cruelty and treachery the purchase money with[297]which to gain territory, and enrich it with the blood of the innocent and helpless.Extinction may be the doom of the Indian, but it does not require a prophet’s authority to enable us to say, “Woe unto those by whom this offence cometh.”[298]1Daily Times, February 12th, 1855.↑

CHAPTER XV.THE FUTURE OF THE NORTH AMERICAN INDIAN.

Every historian and prophet who has preceded me, has reiterated the prediction that “the doom of the Indian is extinction!” I shall not contradict it; but I fearlessly say, this ought not so to be. Is it not a libel upon Christianity, that it is not fitted for all the people of the earth? Is it not a libel upon Him, “who made of one blood all nations;” who made the heavens and the earth; that He contemplated the happiness of only one portion, and instituted a system of religion fitted only for a few?He does not tell us that Christ came into the world, to be crucified and slain for the Saxon and the Norman alone! He died to redeem a world; and He said, “Go and preach the Gospel to all nations.” If He created a people incapable of receiving the Gospel and profiting by it, how strange the command that it should be preached to them. We look upon the instances of degeneracy among Indian youth who have been educated, and exclaim, “How fruitless are all our efforts!” without taking into consideration the true causes of this degeneracy, or the inefficacy of any means yet employed for the accomplishment of our ostensible object. Yet it is stated, that as far back as 1846, there were more Cherokees who could read the English or their own tongue, than could be[285]found among the white people, in proportion to the whole number, in any State of the Union!In 1818, a plan was conceived for educating the Indians of the whole country, by the Superintendent of Indian Affairs, which, though in operation but a few years, proved conclusively that the Indian was capable of any degree of cultivation. He obtained from Congress an appropriation of ten thousand dollars, annually, for his purpose; and with the cordial approbation and co-operation of various missionary and religious societies, established schools among the Indians all along upon our western borders, from Lake Superior to Chattahoochee,—in which were gatheredeighteen hundred children, “deriving instruction, and making as rapid advances in the various incipient branches of learning, in agriculture and the mechanic arts, as are made in any part of the United States by the children of white people.” Then arose a new power; the demons of avarice and selfishness ruled in the councils of our nation. These Indians, who had become a Christian people, with the religion of Christ for their religion—occupying lands, rich with the products of their industry—must be thrust forth, because they were a people of a darker hue than ourselves. So these flourishing schools were broken up; these happy children were deprived of all their means of improvement, and thousands of innocent people were compelled to leave their homes and firesides, and wend their way to the wilderness—leaving the pathway drenched with their tears, and stained with their blood.And even now, what has the Indian youth to awaken hope, and excite ambition? Not even yet, in the State of New York, is he granted the privileges of citizenship, though his claims, as native American, are prior to those of every Saxon on her soil. He is a land-owner, an agriculturist,[286]an educated, a Christian man—but still treated as if he were an idiot or a brute.The story of young James McDonald, in whom Colonel McKenney and Philip Thomas took so great an interest, illustrates the feelings of every red man, when he thinks of becoming like his white brethren. This young man was adopted into the family of Colonel McKenney, and being the age of his own son, enjoyed every privilege which he enjoyed. In the family and in the social circle they were equals, and were afforded the same advantages of education. The Indian youth was endowed with all the personal beauty of the noblest of his race, “with a manner the most gracious and winning,” said his adopted parent, “and a morality I never saw invaded.” Of his progress in study, when he had been only a little while at school, his teacher remarked, that “he came with his lessons better digested, and more Greek and Latin and mathematics in one of them, than the class to which he was attached could get through in a week,—so he was obliged to place him in a class by himself.”When he had finished his academical studies, his benefactor chose for him the profession of the law. But he had begun to think of the difference between the treatment he was then receiving, and that which awaited him when he should go forth in the world, and he exclaimed, “Wherefore! wherefore! Of what use to me will be my present or future attainments? Oh, sir,” pressing his hand against his forehead as he continued, “it will be all lost on me.I am an Indian, and being an Indian, I am marked with a mark as deep and abiding as that which Cain bore. My race is degraded—trodden upon—despised.” He then took from his bosom a letter from his brother, who was a lieutenant in the navy, and whose bitter experience had wrung from him the following words:[287]“There is only one of two things to do: either throw away all that belongs to the white race and turn Indian, or quit being Indian and turn white man.The first you can do—the latter it is not in your power to do.The white man hates the Indian, and will never permit him to come into close fellowship with him, or to be a participator in any of his high prerogatives or distinguished advantages.”When young James was asked if any thing in his experience in the family in which he lived, would justly lead him to such a conclusion, he answered: “No, sir; oh, no; no indeed. But this is an exception, and only serves to prove the rule. You are to me a father. My gratitude to you and your family can never die. I know I am treated with the greatest attention, even to tenderness.” The tears came to his eyes; he sat down and pressed his handkerchief to his face, until it was literally wet with weeping.After awhile he spoke, saying, “Yes, sir; I will go to Ohio and read law with Mr. McLean. I will do any thing that it may be your pleasure for me to do. I should indeed be an ingrate to thwart your kind designs towards me in any thing.But the seal is upon my destiny!”When the time was fixed for him to go, day after day he still lingered, so great was his reluctance to leave home, and father, and mother, and sisters and friends, to become, as he believed, an alien evermore. But he went, and in about half the time usually occupied in acquiring this profession, he was ready for the bar.He was a Choctaw, and when he had finished his studies he returned to his people, on a visit to his mother. Whilst there he was chosen one of a company of delegates to come to Washington on business, and Mr. Calhoun and others, who were engaged with him in transacting it, were[288]astonished at his powers and his acquisitions. But his adopted parent saw with the deepest anguish that he was endeavoring to blunt his keen sensibilities, and stifle the conflict in his bosom by the intoxicating draught. He could not endure that one so gifted and so beautiful should be thus destroyed, and sought many opportunities of remonstrating with him. At one time he reminded him of the days he had spent under his roof—those days of innocence, and honor, and bliss. He sprang to his feet and exclaimed,“Spareme! oh, spare me! It is that thought which makes me so miserable. I have lost that sweet home and its endearments; the veil which was so kindly placed between me and my Indian caste has since been torn away. I have been made to see since that I cannot, whilst such anomalous relations exist, as do exist between the red and the white race, be other than adegraded outcast.”He was invited to go back to that loved spot, and assured that the same welcome awaited him there that he had always experienced; but he said, “Oh, name it not to me, sir; I can never go there again! The very thought of those haunts where I was once so happy, and of the kindness shown me there, being met, as they are, andcrushedby the consciousness of what I now am, distracts me.”But he recovered, in some measure, his former self-reliance and cheerfulness, and returned to open a law office in Jackson, Mississippi, where his prospects were very flattering. Then came disappointed love, to ring again in his ears the doom of the red man, “You are an Indian—you belong to a degraded race.” Hope fled and despair took possession of him; he mounted a high bluff, overhanging the river, and precipitated himself into the water to rise no more. “Wherefore! wherefore!” He[289]might toil and earn money—riches might be within the reach, even of an Indian; but gold cannot satisfy a noble heart. He must not dream of honors, he must not dream of domestic happiness; and what is gold, aye, what is life, when all this is denied?Let it suddenly be revealed to all the youth in our colleges, as an unalterable destiny, that they are evermore debarred from distinction, and the hope of one day forming for themselves a home, and being surrounded by a circle of loved ones, and what would there be to allure them up the hill of science? Would not every energy be paralyzed, and should we not with certainty expect to see them go down to perdition? The love of knowledge merely, is a little better than the love of money; but both are very ignoble motives to inspire immortal minds, and support them on the pilgrimage through this world. The desire of the approbation of heaven and of being useful on earth may be good, and perhaps should be sufficient motives; but how many among the most cultivated and Christian would falter, with only these to sustain them?With a majority of people the idea is entertained that the nature of the Indian is so entirely different from the nature of the Saxon. This is true only in one sense—that education, and centuries of indulgence in peculiar habits, tend to make themsecond nature. The Indian is not alone in loving a wild roving life, free from care and toil.So late as 1826, restoration to home and kindred was offered to several women who had been made captive and carried beyond Lake Superior, and they rejected the boon. They had become entirely released from the trammels of society, and cared not to be encumbered with them again.Chateaubriandrelates, that when travelling through the wilds of America, he heard that he had a countryman[290]who had become a resident of the forest. He visited him, not so much with a desire to see his countryman, as of philosophizing upon his condition. After several hours’ conversation, he put his last grand question:“ ‘Phillip, are you happy?’“He knew not, at first, how to reply. ‘Happy?’ said he, reflecting—‘happy?—yes;—but happy only since I became a savage.’“ ‘And how do you pass your life?’ asked I. He laughed.“ ‘I understand you,’ continued I. ‘You think such a question unworthy of an answer; but should you not like to resume your former mode of living, and return to your country?’“ ‘My country—France? If I were not so old I should like toseeit again.’“ ‘And you would not remain there?’ The motion of Phillip’s head answered my question sufficiently. ‘But what induced you,’ continued I, ‘to become what you call a savage?’“ ‘I don’t know,’ said he—‘instinct.’“This expression put an end to my doubts and questions. I remained ten days with Phillip, in order to observe him, and never saw him swerve for a single moment from the assertion he had made.His soul, free from the conflict of the social passions, appeared, in the language of the Indian, calm as the field of battle, after the warriors had smoked together theircalumetof peace.”How many atrapperhas become wed to a forest life. I never yet heard of one who voluntarily returned to the plough and the anvil. Why, then, should we expect an Indian to seek them? The same necessity must be laid upon him as upon us, ere he will toil, and he must be inspired[291]with the same motives, ere he will prefer knowledge to ignorance.If there had been no wars in our country, except between the colonists and the Indians, Christianity might have been taught by example as well as precept. But three times since the settlement of America, the red man has been obliged to witness, and take part in bloody conflicts, between the very nations who professed to come to him with the religion which condemned war; and these nations were fighting about the very lands which they were constantly telling the Indian it was wrong for him to defend at the expense of life, though they were his birthright, and dear to him, as the inheritance of his fathers. Their invaders fought to defend what was not their own; why should not he defend what was his all?It is strange that there have been so many, rather than that there have been so few, who were willing to receive Christianity, and the arts of civilization, from their oppressors. The proud lord of the forest never consented to become subject or slave. When he yielded, it was to stern necessity; and when we remember what he had to give up, and that when we had taken from him his possessions, and all he held most dear, giving him nothing in return, but the privilege of living as best he could, never calling him, or treating him as brother, or freeman; we cannot fail to see that he has done exactly as we should have done in the same circumstances.As it was, the labors of Eliot and Mayhew, of Kirkland and Brainard, and many more in modern times, have not been without their reward. Mayhew wrote the lives of between one and two hundred “Christian men and women, and godly ministers,” and there is exhibited no difference between Indian Christians, and Christians of other nations.[292]What a beautiful illustration of Christian principle was the famous Oneida Chief, Shenandoah. For sixty years he had been the terror of all who heard his name, when he listened to the gospel message from Mr. Kirkland, and immediately became a little child, in meekness and every Christian grace. He lived more than a hundred years; and when, a little while before he died, a friend called and asked concerning his health, he said, “I am an aged hemlock; the winds of a hundred winters have whistled through my branches. I am dead at the top(referring to his blindness). Why I yet live, the Great Good Spirit only knows. When I am dead, bury me by the side of my good minister and friend, that I may go up with him at the great resurrection.”Kusick was a Tuscarora Chief, and where shall we look for a nobler instance of friendship than his towards Lafayette, or for Christian principle more firm and true than he evinced concerning his pension.In the war of the Revolution he was under Lafayette’s command. Many years after peace was concluded, as he was passing through Washington, he accidentally heard the name of his old commander spoken in the office where he stopped for business. The moment his ear caught the sound, with eyes lighted and full of earnestness, he asked:“Is he yet alive?”“Yes,” was the reply, “he is alive, and looking well and hearty.”With deep emphasis he said, “I am glad to hear it.”“Then you knew Lafayette, Kusick?”“Oh yes,” he answered, “I knew him well; and many a time in the battles, I threw myself between him and the bullets,for I loved him!”On being asked if he had a commission, he said “Yes, General Washington gave him one, and he was lieutenant.”[293]This suggested to his friends that he was entitled to a pension, and on looking over the records, the truth of what he said was confirmed, and he received one for several years.Afterwards, Congress passed a law making it necessary that each recipient should swear that he could not live without the pension. When the old chief was called upon to do this, he said, “Now here is my little log cabin, and it’s my own; here’s my patch where I can raise corn, and beans, and pumpkins; and there is Lake Oneida, where I can catch fish; with these I can make out to live without the pension, and to say I could not, would be tolie to the Great Spirit.” This was the honor of an Indian Chief; how many among those of our own people who receive pensions would have done likewise for conscience’ sake? Kusick could speak the English language very well, but when he made an audible prayer or said grace at table, he used his nativeTuscarora, “because,” said he, “when I speak English I am often at a loss for a word; when therefore I speak to the Great Spirit, I do not like to be perplexed, or have my mind distracted to look after a word. When I use my own language, it is like my breath; I am composed.” In this is exemplified that he fully understood the reverence which was due to the Great Ruler.Instances might be multiplied a hundred fold, to prove that the religion of Christ can soften and renew the heart of the fiercest warrior of the wilderness, as well as the heart of the child of civilization. The records of missions numbers forty thousand Indian converts; and, if only half these have become genuine followers of the cross of Christ, the patient and faithful missionary has not labored in vain.There is a little remnant still left among us; and if[294]these are permitted to perish, it will not be the fault of our fathers, and the dark age in which they lived. We know their wants and their capacities, and have abundant means for all the good we please to accomplish.Of the Iroquois there are three thousand; of Indians within our jurisdiction, three hundred thousand. They should be citizens of our republic; their oaths should be respected in our courts of justice; and their representatives should be in our national councils; then we should see hope dawn in their bosoms, and ambition revive their energies.One who had the means of making the estimate, and no motive for stating it incorrectly, says we have become possessed of all these fair domains at the paltry price oftwo cents and three quarters an acre! By robbery we have grown rich.It was suggested in Congress, not long since, that “a person be employed to collect and arrange the treaties, and other authentic documents, tending to illustrate the history of the relinquishment of land titles by native Indian tribes, and to prepare such means of illustration as may be necessary for a full knowledge of the acquirement of the States of the title to their lands.” To which it was answered: “Let us do no such thing. Let us rather gather up and destroy—commit to the flames all that records the progress of our acquisitions. Leave only to tradition, or forget entirely, the infamy which we acquired with the titles we enjoy—for who can look unmoved upon the parchment that tells how many miles square were bought with a few strings of paltry beads—how the council fires that had burned for ages were put out, and the bands that gathered round them for ages were scattered—their birthrights, their wigwams, and their hunting grounds bartered away for a score of worthless[295]rifles, or a bundle of useless trinkets,—how we first debased, and then defrauded, the children of the forest out of all their hills and valleys, their lakes and rivers, over which are scattered the millions whose representatives are asked to perpetuate the records of wrongs inflicted by their ancestors. Doubtless there was necessity for the wrong—for the extermination of one race, for the increase of another. But there exists no necessity that we should make a parade of the means by which that extermination was effected.Theymay be forgiven; we may, at least, forget them.”1It is too late to blot out these dark records; but it is not yet too late to prove that we“Are wiser than our ‘Fathers’ were,And better know the Lord.”It is confidently predicted that we are on the verge of another Indian war, more terrible than our country ever experienced; and yet with our rich, powerful, and consolidated government, it is perfectly possible to prevent this war. The Indian of the West is the same as the Indian of the East; and it is a thousand times better to soften his heart by kindness than to pierce it by a bullet.A traveller describes the following Sabbath morning scene, far beyond the confines of civilization, among the Chippewas, Menomonies, and Winnebagoes, where only the trader and the missionary had been.“The dawn of this Sabbath morning was peculiarly beautiful; ‘rosy fingers’ did seem ‘to unbar the gates of light.’ Violet and purple with a wide and widening circle of ‘orient pearl,’ all met my eye with their charming and chastening influences—and then there was such silence![296]Not a leaf rustled, and the waves broke in softer murmur on the shore. Yet, all this silence was broken in upon this morning—for, just between the time when the eastern sky was made mellow with the sun’s light, and the light began to tip the tops of tree and mountain, and all was so quiet, my ears were greeted by sweet sounds of music! They came from a lodge of Christian Indians, which was hard by in the woods. They had risen with the day ‘to worship God!’ They sang in three parts, base, tenor, and treble, and with a time so true, and with voices so sweet, as to add harmony even to nature itself. Notes of thrush and nightingale sound sweeter when poured forth amidst the grove; so sounded those of these forest warblers in the midst of the green foliage and in the stillness of the woods. I attended their worship, and was present with them again in the evening; and as I listened to their songs of praise, and their prayers, I felt humbled and ashamed of my country, in view of the wrongs it had inflicted,and still continues to inflict, upon these desolate and destitute children of the forest. There were flowers and gems there, which needed only to be cultivated and polished, to insure from the one the emission of as sweet odors as ever regaled the circles of the civilized; and from the other, a brilliance as dazzling as ever sparkled in the diadem of queenly beauty. And yet they were, and are, neglected, trodden down, and treated as outcasts!”But no missionary society has the means of accomplishing the work of carrying the gospel and education, to such a multitude of roving people, over such a wide extent of country. This is the duty of the government, and if wisely planned, would not be so difficult of execution. It would not cost so much as a war, and would save us from the retribution which must certainly come upon those who make cruelty and treachery the purchase money with[297]which to gain territory, and enrich it with the blood of the innocent and helpless.Extinction may be the doom of the Indian, but it does not require a prophet’s authority to enable us to say, “Woe unto those by whom this offence cometh.”[298]

He does not tell us that Christ came into the world, to be crucified and slain for the Saxon and the Norman alone! He died to redeem a world; and He said, “Go and preach the Gospel to all nations.” If He created a people incapable of receiving the Gospel and profiting by it, how strange the command that it should be preached to them. We look upon the instances of degeneracy among Indian youth who have been educated, and exclaim, “How fruitless are all our efforts!” without taking into consideration the true causes of this degeneracy, or the inefficacy of any means yet employed for the accomplishment of our ostensible object. Yet it is stated, that as far back as 1846, there were more Cherokees who could read the English or their own tongue, than could be[285]found among the white people, in proportion to the whole number, in any State of the Union!

In 1818, a plan was conceived for educating the Indians of the whole country, by the Superintendent of Indian Affairs, which, though in operation but a few years, proved conclusively that the Indian was capable of any degree of cultivation. He obtained from Congress an appropriation of ten thousand dollars, annually, for his purpose; and with the cordial approbation and co-operation of various missionary and religious societies, established schools among the Indians all along upon our western borders, from Lake Superior to Chattahoochee,—in which were gatheredeighteen hundred children, “deriving instruction, and making as rapid advances in the various incipient branches of learning, in agriculture and the mechanic arts, as are made in any part of the United States by the children of white people.” Then arose a new power; the demons of avarice and selfishness ruled in the councils of our nation. These Indians, who had become a Christian people, with the religion of Christ for their religion—occupying lands, rich with the products of their industry—must be thrust forth, because they were a people of a darker hue than ourselves. So these flourishing schools were broken up; these happy children were deprived of all their means of improvement, and thousands of innocent people were compelled to leave their homes and firesides, and wend their way to the wilderness—leaving the pathway drenched with their tears, and stained with their blood.

And even now, what has the Indian youth to awaken hope, and excite ambition? Not even yet, in the State of New York, is he granted the privileges of citizenship, though his claims, as native American, are prior to those of every Saxon on her soil. He is a land-owner, an agriculturist,[286]an educated, a Christian man—but still treated as if he were an idiot or a brute.

The story of young James McDonald, in whom Colonel McKenney and Philip Thomas took so great an interest, illustrates the feelings of every red man, when he thinks of becoming like his white brethren. This young man was adopted into the family of Colonel McKenney, and being the age of his own son, enjoyed every privilege which he enjoyed. In the family and in the social circle they were equals, and were afforded the same advantages of education. The Indian youth was endowed with all the personal beauty of the noblest of his race, “with a manner the most gracious and winning,” said his adopted parent, “and a morality I never saw invaded.” Of his progress in study, when he had been only a little while at school, his teacher remarked, that “he came with his lessons better digested, and more Greek and Latin and mathematics in one of them, than the class to which he was attached could get through in a week,—so he was obliged to place him in a class by himself.”

When he had finished his academical studies, his benefactor chose for him the profession of the law. But he had begun to think of the difference between the treatment he was then receiving, and that which awaited him when he should go forth in the world, and he exclaimed, “Wherefore! wherefore! Of what use to me will be my present or future attainments? Oh, sir,” pressing his hand against his forehead as he continued, “it will be all lost on me.I am an Indian, and being an Indian, I am marked with a mark as deep and abiding as that which Cain bore. My race is degraded—trodden upon—despised.” He then took from his bosom a letter from his brother, who was a lieutenant in the navy, and whose bitter experience had wrung from him the following words:[287]“There is only one of two things to do: either throw away all that belongs to the white race and turn Indian, or quit being Indian and turn white man.The first you can do—the latter it is not in your power to do.The white man hates the Indian, and will never permit him to come into close fellowship with him, or to be a participator in any of his high prerogatives or distinguished advantages.”

When young James was asked if any thing in his experience in the family in which he lived, would justly lead him to such a conclusion, he answered: “No, sir; oh, no; no indeed. But this is an exception, and only serves to prove the rule. You are to me a father. My gratitude to you and your family can never die. I know I am treated with the greatest attention, even to tenderness.” The tears came to his eyes; he sat down and pressed his handkerchief to his face, until it was literally wet with weeping.

After awhile he spoke, saying, “Yes, sir; I will go to Ohio and read law with Mr. McLean. I will do any thing that it may be your pleasure for me to do. I should indeed be an ingrate to thwart your kind designs towards me in any thing.But the seal is upon my destiny!”

When the time was fixed for him to go, day after day he still lingered, so great was his reluctance to leave home, and father, and mother, and sisters and friends, to become, as he believed, an alien evermore. But he went, and in about half the time usually occupied in acquiring this profession, he was ready for the bar.

He was a Choctaw, and when he had finished his studies he returned to his people, on a visit to his mother. Whilst there he was chosen one of a company of delegates to come to Washington on business, and Mr. Calhoun and others, who were engaged with him in transacting it, were[288]astonished at his powers and his acquisitions. But his adopted parent saw with the deepest anguish that he was endeavoring to blunt his keen sensibilities, and stifle the conflict in his bosom by the intoxicating draught. He could not endure that one so gifted and so beautiful should be thus destroyed, and sought many opportunities of remonstrating with him. At one time he reminded him of the days he had spent under his roof—those days of innocence, and honor, and bliss. He sprang to his feet and exclaimed,“Spareme! oh, spare me! It is that thought which makes me so miserable. I have lost that sweet home and its endearments; the veil which was so kindly placed between me and my Indian caste has since been torn away. I have been made to see since that I cannot, whilst such anomalous relations exist, as do exist between the red and the white race, be other than adegraded outcast.”

He was invited to go back to that loved spot, and assured that the same welcome awaited him there that he had always experienced; but he said, “Oh, name it not to me, sir; I can never go there again! The very thought of those haunts where I was once so happy, and of the kindness shown me there, being met, as they are, andcrushedby the consciousness of what I now am, distracts me.”

But he recovered, in some measure, his former self-reliance and cheerfulness, and returned to open a law office in Jackson, Mississippi, where his prospects were very flattering. Then came disappointed love, to ring again in his ears the doom of the red man, “You are an Indian—you belong to a degraded race.” Hope fled and despair took possession of him; he mounted a high bluff, overhanging the river, and precipitated himself into the water to rise no more. “Wherefore! wherefore!” He[289]might toil and earn money—riches might be within the reach, even of an Indian; but gold cannot satisfy a noble heart. He must not dream of honors, he must not dream of domestic happiness; and what is gold, aye, what is life, when all this is denied?

Let it suddenly be revealed to all the youth in our colleges, as an unalterable destiny, that they are evermore debarred from distinction, and the hope of one day forming for themselves a home, and being surrounded by a circle of loved ones, and what would there be to allure them up the hill of science? Would not every energy be paralyzed, and should we not with certainty expect to see them go down to perdition? The love of knowledge merely, is a little better than the love of money; but both are very ignoble motives to inspire immortal minds, and support them on the pilgrimage through this world. The desire of the approbation of heaven and of being useful on earth may be good, and perhaps should be sufficient motives; but how many among the most cultivated and Christian would falter, with only these to sustain them?

With a majority of people the idea is entertained that the nature of the Indian is so entirely different from the nature of the Saxon. This is true only in one sense—that education, and centuries of indulgence in peculiar habits, tend to make themsecond nature. The Indian is not alone in loving a wild roving life, free from care and toil.

So late as 1826, restoration to home and kindred was offered to several women who had been made captive and carried beyond Lake Superior, and they rejected the boon. They had become entirely released from the trammels of society, and cared not to be encumbered with them again.

Chateaubriandrelates, that when travelling through the wilds of America, he heard that he had a countryman[290]who had become a resident of the forest. He visited him, not so much with a desire to see his countryman, as of philosophizing upon his condition. After several hours’ conversation, he put his last grand question:

“ ‘Phillip, are you happy?’

“He knew not, at first, how to reply. ‘Happy?’ said he, reflecting—‘happy?—yes;—but happy only since I became a savage.’

“ ‘And how do you pass your life?’ asked I. He laughed.

“ ‘I understand you,’ continued I. ‘You think such a question unworthy of an answer; but should you not like to resume your former mode of living, and return to your country?’

“ ‘My country—France? If I were not so old I should like toseeit again.’

“ ‘And you would not remain there?’ The motion of Phillip’s head answered my question sufficiently. ‘But what induced you,’ continued I, ‘to become what you call a savage?’

“ ‘I don’t know,’ said he—‘instinct.’

“This expression put an end to my doubts and questions. I remained ten days with Phillip, in order to observe him, and never saw him swerve for a single moment from the assertion he had made.His soul, free from the conflict of the social passions, appeared, in the language of the Indian, calm as the field of battle, after the warriors had smoked together theircalumetof peace.”

How many atrapperhas become wed to a forest life. I never yet heard of one who voluntarily returned to the plough and the anvil. Why, then, should we expect an Indian to seek them? The same necessity must be laid upon him as upon us, ere he will toil, and he must be inspired[291]with the same motives, ere he will prefer knowledge to ignorance.

If there had been no wars in our country, except between the colonists and the Indians, Christianity might have been taught by example as well as precept. But three times since the settlement of America, the red man has been obliged to witness, and take part in bloody conflicts, between the very nations who professed to come to him with the religion which condemned war; and these nations were fighting about the very lands which they were constantly telling the Indian it was wrong for him to defend at the expense of life, though they were his birthright, and dear to him, as the inheritance of his fathers. Their invaders fought to defend what was not their own; why should not he defend what was his all?

It is strange that there have been so many, rather than that there have been so few, who were willing to receive Christianity, and the arts of civilization, from their oppressors. The proud lord of the forest never consented to become subject or slave. When he yielded, it was to stern necessity; and when we remember what he had to give up, and that when we had taken from him his possessions, and all he held most dear, giving him nothing in return, but the privilege of living as best he could, never calling him, or treating him as brother, or freeman; we cannot fail to see that he has done exactly as we should have done in the same circumstances.

As it was, the labors of Eliot and Mayhew, of Kirkland and Brainard, and many more in modern times, have not been without their reward. Mayhew wrote the lives of between one and two hundred “Christian men and women, and godly ministers,” and there is exhibited no difference between Indian Christians, and Christians of other nations.[292]

What a beautiful illustration of Christian principle was the famous Oneida Chief, Shenandoah. For sixty years he had been the terror of all who heard his name, when he listened to the gospel message from Mr. Kirkland, and immediately became a little child, in meekness and every Christian grace. He lived more than a hundred years; and when, a little while before he died, a friend called and asked concerning his health, he said, “I am an aged hemlock; the winds of a hundred winters have whistled through my branches. I am dead at the top(referring to his blindness). Why I yet live, the Great Good Spirit only knows. When I am dead, bury me by the side of my good minister and friend, that I may go up with him at the great resurrection.”

Kusick was a Tuscarora Chief, and where shall we look for a nobler instance of friendship than his towards Lafayette, or for Christian principle more firm and true than he evinced concerning his pension.

In the war of the Revolution he was under Lafayette’s command. Many years after peace was concluded, as he was passing through Washington, he accidentally heard the name of his old commander spoken in the office where he stopped for business. The moment his ear caught the sound, with eyes lighted and full of earnestness, he asked:

“Is he yet alive?”

“Yes,” was the reply, “he is alive, and looking well and hearty.”

With deep emphasis he said, “I am glad to hear it.”

“Then you knew Lafayette, Kusick?”

“Oh yes,” he answered, “I knew him well; and many a time in the battles, I threw myself between him and the bullets,for I loved him!”

On being asked if he had a commission, he said “Yes, General Washington gave him one, and he was lieutenant.”[293]This suggested to his friends that he was entitled to a pension, and on looking over the records, the truth of what he said was confirmed, and he received one for several years.

Afterwards, Congress passed a law making it necessary that each recipient should swear that he could not live without the pension. When the old chief was called upon to do this, he said, “Now here is my little log cabin, and it’s my own; here’s my patch where I can raise corn, and beans, and pumpkins; and there is Lake Oneida, where I can catch fish; with these I can make out to live without the pension, and to say I could not, would be tolie to the Great Spirit.” This was the honor of an Indian Chief; how many among those of our own people who receive pensions would have done likewise for conscience’ sake? Kusick could speak the English language very well, but when he made an audible prayer or said grace at table, he used his nativeTuscarora, “because,” said he, “when I speak English I am often at a loss for a word; when therefore I speak to the Great Spirit, I do not like to be perplexed, or have my mind distracted to look after a word. When I use my own language, it is like my breath; I am composed.” In this is exemplified that he fully understood the reverence which was due to the Great Ruler.

Instances might be multiplied a hundred fold, to prove that the religion of Christ can soften and renew the heart of the fiercest warrior of the wilderness, as well as the heart of the child of civilization. The records of missions numbers forty thousand Indian converts; and, if only half these have become genuine followers of the cross of Christ, the patient and faithful missionary has not labored in vain.

There is a little remnant still left among us; and if[294]these are permitted to perish, it will not be the fault of our fathers, and the dark age in which they lived. We know their wants and their capacities, and have abundant means for all the good we please to accomplish.

Of the Iroquois there are three thousand; of Indians within our jurisdiction, three hundred thousand. They should be citizens of our republic; their oaths should be respected in our courts of justice; and their representatives should be in our national councils; then we should see hope dawn in their bosoms, and ambition revive their energies.

One who had the means of making the estimate, and no motive for stating it incorrectly, says we have become possessed of all these fair domains at the paltry price oftwo cents and three quarters an acre! By robbery we have grown rich.

It was suggested in Congress, not long since, that “a person be employed to collect and arrange the treaties, and other authentic documents, tending to illustrate the history of the relinquishment of land titles by native Indian tribes, and to prepare such means of illustration as may be necessary for a full knowledge of the acquirement of the States of the title to their lands.” To which it was answered: “Let us do no such thing. Let us rather gather up and destroy—commit to the flames all that records the progress of our acquisitions. Leave only to tradition, or forget entirely, the infamy which we acquired with the titles we enjoy—for who can look unmoved upon the parchment that tells how many miles square were bought with a few strings of paltry beads—how the council fires that had burned for ages were put out, and the bands that gathered round them for ages were scattered—their birthrights, their wigwams, and their hunting grounds bartered away for a score of worthless[295]rifles, or a bundle of useless trinkets,—how we first debased, and then defrauded, the children of the forest out of all their hills and valleys, their lakes and rivers, over which are scattered the millions whose representatives are asked to perpetuate the records of wrongs inflicted by their ancestors. Doubtless there was necessity for the wrong—for the extermination of one race, for the increase of another. But there exists no necessity that we should make a parade of the means by which that extermination was effected.Theymay be forgiven; we may, at least, forget them.”1

It is too late to blot out these dark records; but it is not yet too late to prove that we

“Are wiser than our ‘Fathers’ were,And better know the Lord.”

“Are wiser than our ‘Fathers’ were,

And better know the Lord.”

It is confidently predicted that we are on the verge of another Indian war, more terrible than our country ever experienced; and yet with our rich, powerful, and consolidated government, it is perfectly possible to prevent this war. The Indian of the West is the same as the Indian of the East; and it is a thousand times better to soften his heart by kindness than to pierce it by a bullet.

A traveller describes the following Sabbath morning scene, far beyond the confines of civilization, among the Chippewas, Menomonies, and Winnebagoes, where only the trader and the missionary had been.

“The dawn of this Sabbath morning was peculiarly beautiful; ‘rosy fingers’ did seem ‘to unbar the gates of light.’ Violet and purple with a wide and widening circle of ‘orient pearl,’ all met my eye with their charming and chastening influences—and then there was such silence![296]Not a leaf rustled, and the waves broke in softer murmur on the shore. Yet, all this silence was broken in upon this morning—for, just between the time when the eastern sky was made mellow with the sun’s light, and the light began to tip the tops of tree and mountain, and all was so quiet, my ears were greeted by sweet sounds of music! They came from a lodge of Christian Indians, which was hard by in the woods. They had risen with the day ‘to worship God!’ They sang in three parts, base, tenor, and treble, and with a time so true, and with voices so sweet, as to add harmony even to nature itself. Notes of thrush and nightingale sound sweeter when poured forth amidst the grove; so sounded those of these forest warblers in the midst of the green foliage and in the stillness of the woods. I attended their worship, and was present with them again in the evening; and as I listened to their songs of praise, and their prayers, I felt humbled and ashamed of my country, in view of the wrongs it had inflicted,and still continues to inflict, upon these desolate and destitute children of the forest. There were flowers and gems there, which needed only to be cultivated and polished, to insure from the one the emission of as sweet odors as ever regaled the circles of the civilized; and from the other, a brilliance as dazzling as ever sparkled in the diadem of queenly beauty. And yet they were, and are, neglected, trodden down, and treated as outcasts!”

But no missionary society has the means of accomplishing the work of carrying the gospel and education, to such a multitude of roving people, over such a wide extent of country. This is the duty of the government, and if wisely planned, would not be so difficult of execution. It would not cost so much as a war, and would save us from the retribution which must certainly come upon those who make cruelty and treachery the purchase money with[297]which to gain territory, and enrich it with the blood of the innocent and helpless.

Extinction may be the doom of the Indian, but it does not require a prophet’s authority to enable us to say, “Woe unto those by whom this offence cometh.”[298]

1Daily Times, February 12th, 1855.↑

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