Let me not be mistaken, in ascribing effects disproportionate to their cause, or in overlooking advantages which have brought along in their train, a striking evil. I am no admirer of that sickly philosophy, which looks back upon a state of nature as a state of innocence, and which cannot appreciate the benefits the Indian race have derived from the discovery of this portion of the world by civilized and Christian nations. But while I would not, on the one hand, conceal my sense of the advantages, temporal and spiritual, which hinge upon this discovery, I would not, on the other, disguise the evils which intemperance has caused among them; nor cease to hold it up, to the public, as a great and destroying evil, which was early introduced—which has spread extensively—which is in active operation, and which threatens yet more disastrous consequences to this unfortunate race.
Writers have not been wanting, who are prone to lay but little stress upon the destructive influence of ardent spirits, in diminishing the native population, and who have considered its effects as trifling in comparison to the want of food, and the enhanced price created by this want.[44] The abundance or scarcity of food is a principle in political economy, which is assumed as the primary cause of depopulation. And, as such, we see no reason to question its soundness. If the value of labor, the price of clothing and other necessary commodities, can be referred to the varying prices of vegetable and animal food, we do not see that the fact of a people's being civilized or uncivilized, should invalidate the principle; and when we turn our eyes upon the forest we see that it does not. A pound of beaver, which in 1730, when animal food was abundant, was worth here about a French crown, is now, when food is scarce and dear, worth from five to six dollars; and consequently, one pound of beaver now will procure as much food and clothing as five pounds of the like quality of beaver then. It is the failure of the race of furred animals, and the want of industry in hunting them, that operate to produce depopulation. And what, we may ask, has so powerful an effect in destroying the energies of the hunter, as the vice of intemperance? Stupefying his mind, and enervating his body, it leaves him neither the vigor to provide for his temporary wants, nor the disposition to inquire into those which regard eternity. His natural affections are blunted, and all the sterner and nobler qualities of the Indian mind prostrated. His family are neglected. They first become objects of pity to our citizens, and then of disgust. The want of wholesome food and comfortable clothing produce disease. He falls at last himself, the victim of disease, superinduced from drinking.
Such is no exaggerated picture of the Indian, who is in a situation to contract the habit of intemperance. And it is only within the last year or eighteen months—it is only since the operation of Temperance principles has been felt in this remote place, that scenes of this kind have become unfrequent, and have almost ceased in our village, and in our settlement. And when we look abroad to other places, and observe the spread of temperance in the wide area from Louisiana to Maine, we may almost fancy we behold the accomplishment of Indian fable. It is related, on the best authority, that among the extravagances of Spanish enterprise, which characterized the era of the discovery of America, the natives had reported the existence of a fountain in the interior of one of the islands, possessed of such magical virtues, that whoever bathed in its waters would be restored to the bloom of youth and the vigor of manhood. In search of this wonderful fountain historians affirm, that Ponce de Leon and his followers ranged the island. They only, however, drew upon themselves the charge of credulity. May we not suppose this tale of the salutary fountain to be an Indian allegory of temperance? It will, at least, admit of this application. And let us rejoice that, in the era of temperance, we have found the spring which will restore bloom to the cheeks of the young man, and the panacea that will remove disease from the old.
When we consider the effects which our own humble efforts as inhabitants of a distant post have produced in this labor of humanity, have we not every encouragement to persevere? Is it not an effort sanctioned by the noblest affections of our nature—by the soundest principles of philanthropy—by the highest aspirations of Christian benevolence? Is it not the work of patriots as well as Christians? of good citizens as well as good neighbors? Is it not a high and imperious duty to rid our land of the foul stain of intemperance? Is it a duty too hard for us to accomplish? Is there anything unreasonable in the voluntary obligations by which we are bound? Shall we lose property or reputation by laboring in the cause of temperance? Will the debtor be less able to pay his debts, or the creditor less able to collect them? Shall we injure man, woman or child, by dashing away the cup of intoxication? Shall we incur the charge of being denominated fools or madmen? Shall we violate any principles of morality, or any of the maxims of Christianity? Shall we run the risk of diminishing the happiness of others, or putting our own in jeopardy? Finally, shall we injure man—shall we offend God?
If neither of these evils will result—if the highest principles of virtue and happiness sanction the measure—if learning applauds it, and religion approves it—if good must result from its success, and injury cannot accrue from its failure, what further motive need we to impel us onward, to devote our best faculties in the cause, and neither to faint nor rest till the modern hydra of intemperance be expelled from our country?
VENERABLE INDIAN CHIEF.
The Cattaraugus (N. Y.) Whig, of a late date, mentions that Gov. Blacksnake, the Grand Sachem of the Indian nation, was recently in that place. He resides on the Alleghany Reservation, about twenty miles from the village; is the successor of Corn Planter, as chief of the Six Nations—a nephew of Joseph Brant, and uncle of the celebrated Red Jacket. He was born near Cayuga Lake in 1749, being now ninety-six years of age. He was in the battle of Fort Stanwix, Wyoming, &c., and was a warm friend of Gen. Washington during the Revolution. He was in Washington's camp forty days at the close of the Revolution—was appointed chief by him, and now wears suspended from his neck a beautiful silver medal presented to him by Gen. Washington, bearing date 1796.