As the Rev. Mr. Williams, of the Oneida tribe, occupies a conspicuous place in this work, the Author begs leave to say, that some very trivial errors may possibly occur in the notices taken of him,—but not material. The conversations and remarks ascribed to Mr. Williams, and in one place an extended part of a colloquy with the Author, in which he appears as the principal speaker, are a compressed and comprehensive statement of the substance of numerous communications, reduced principally from recollection. The Author would not, therefore, make Mr. Williams responsible for every expression, that may be found in these conversations, as coming from him. All the Author can pretend is, that he has endeavoured faithfully to transcribe the copy afforded by his memory, in the selections made. The exact original forms of communication could not of course be expected.
It is possible also, that some other of the historical and narrative portions of the first volume may not have made exactly the same impressions on the minds of other witnesses, as are recorded by the Author. He does not think, however, that these differences could be numerous, or in any degree important.
It will doubtless seem remarkable, that Indian wrongs in America could have proceeded so far without more public remonstrance and without the application of a remedy. But it may easily be seen, that a civilized and powerful government, having come in contact and formed permanent relations with barbarous, or semi-barbarous, and consequently inferior, and in some respects, dependent tribes, may have practised, or suffered to be practised, long continued and petty oppressions, necessarily vexatious and destructive to the subjects, before they have come to the notice of the world, so as to shock essentially the moral sense of mankind. Where have such relations existed without these results? Suppose the book of history, detailing things of this kind, that have occurred in the East Indies for ages past, were open to the world? The little that has transpired may be enough to suggest what remains untold. It is only when acts of injustice, or of cruelty, more atrocious, occur, that the attention and sympathies of mankind are roused.
Besides, injustice is more apparent when the temper of the age is mild, and the state of the world comparatively quiet. The better part of mankind can see it more distinctly, and a better opportunity is given to expose it. Injustice, when estimated by the proper rule, is always the same. But it is not always the same thing in men’s minds. That which would have been a trifle in one age, or in one part of the world, may be an enormity in another.
It was not till recently, within four to six years—more especially within four—that the more flagrant acts of injustice toward the American Indians, have challenged public attention. And, as has been before remarked, it has not been possible, within this period and in existing circumstances, to bring in a remedy. The current of mischief was too wide and deep and strong to be arrested, or turned in a day.
London, June, 1833.
A TOUR, &c.
CHAPTER I.
THE FALLS OF NIAGARA.
Who has not heard of Niagara Falls? And he who has been there, if he possesses ought of a relish for the grand and awful, if he can admire the way and love the voice of God, will never lose the impressions of the scene. The mountain has its majestic forms. But its eloquence, though impressive, is silent, except when the storm begins to move upon its head, and roar along its sides, and brush its everlasting crags, and bellow over the mouths of its caverns; or when the avalanche comes thundering from its brow to worship at its feet; and he who happens to be there perchance shall never come away. The wilderness has its romantic and unexplored solitudes, and the desert its interminable wastes, or its burning sirocco; but there is no comfort to exempt the mind from external annoyances. The ocean, tempest-tossed, prepares in the deep a watery shroud for the body by the same hand, with which it proffers a festival of sublimity to the soul. With him who has gone safely through, the very contingencies of his passage may indeed augment the power and add intensity to the character of his emotions, while hanging in retrospect over the recollections of his peril. Still there was peril—and with peril there is pain.