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The plan of this tale suggested itself to the writer many years since, though tbe details are altogether of recent in- vention. The idea of associating seamen and savages in incidents that might be supposed characteristic of the Great Lakes having been mentioned to a Publisher, the latter obtained something like a pledge from the Author to carry out the design at some future day, which pledge is now tardily and imperfectly redeemed. The reader may recognize an old friend under new cir- cumstances in the principal character of this legend. If the exhibition made of this old acquaintance, in the novel circumstances in which he now appears, should be found not to lessen his favor with the Public, it will be a source of extreme gratification to the writer, since he has an in- terest in the individual in question that falls little short of reality. It is not an easy task, however, to introduce the same character in four separate works, and to maintain the peculiatrities that are indispensable to identity, withont incurring a risk of fatiguing the reader with sameness; and the present experiment has been so long delayed quite as much from doubts of its success as from any other cause. In this, as in every other undertaking, it must be the "end" that will "crown the work." The Indian character has so little variety, that it has been my object to avoid dwelling on it too much on the present occasion; its association with the sailor, too, it is feared, will be found to have more novelty than interest. It may strike the novice as an anachronism to place vessels on the Ontario in the middle of the eighteenth century; but in this particular facts will fully bear out all the li- cense of the fiction. Although the precise vessels men- tioned in these pages may never have existed on that water or anywhere else, others so nearly resembling them are known to have navigated that inland sea, even at a period much earlier than the one just mentioned, as to form a sufficient authority for their introduction into a work of fiction. It is a fact not generally remembered, however well known it may be, that there are isolated spots along the line of the great lakes that date as settlements as far back as many of the older American towns, and which were the seats of a species of civilization long before the greater portion of even the older States was rescued from the wil- derness. Ontario in our own times has been the scene of important naval evolutions. Fleets have manoeuvered on those waters, which, half a century ago, were as deserted as waters well can be; and the day is not distant when the whole of that vast range of lakes will become the seat of empire, and fraught with all the interests of human society. A pass- ing glimpse, even though it be in a work of fiction, of what that vast region so lately was, may help to make up the sum of knowledge by which alone a just appreciation can be formed of the wonderful means by which Provi- dence is clearing the way for the advancement of civiliza- tion across the whole American continent.
CHAPTER I. - The turf shall be my fragrant shrine; My temple, Lord ! that arch of thine; My censer`s breath the mountain airs, And silent thoughts my only prayers. MOORE CHAPTER II. - Yea! long as Nature`s humblest child Hath kept her temple undefiled
By simple sacrifice, Earth`s fairest scenes are all his own, He is a monarch and his throne
Is built amid the skies!
WILSON. CHAPTER III. - Before these fields were shorn and till`d,
Full to the brim our rivers flow`d; The melody of waters fill`d
The fresh and boundless wood; And torrents dash`d, and rivulets play`d, And fountains spouted in the shade.
BRYANT. CHAPTER IV - Art, stryving to compare With nature, did an arber greene dispred, Fram`d of wanton yvie flowing fayre, Through which the fragrant eglantines did spred. SPENSER. CHAPTER V - Death is here and death is there, Death is busy everywhere. SHELLEY CHAPTER VI. - These, as they change, Almighty Father, these, Are but the varied God. THOMSON. CHAPTER VII. - And is this -- Yarrow? -- this the stream
Of which my fancy cherish`d So faithfully a waking dream?
An image that hath perish`d? Oh that some minstrel`s harp were near,
To utter notes of gladness, And chase this silence from the air,
That fills my heart with sadness.
WORDSWORTH. CHAPTER VIII. - A land of love, and a land of light, Withouten sun, or moon, or night: Where the river swa`d a living stream, And the light a pure celestial beam: The land of vision, it would seem A still, an everlasting dream. _Queen`s Wake._ CHAPTER IX. - Now, my co-mates and partners in exile, Hath not old custom made this life more sweet Than that of painted pomp? Are not these woods More free from peril than the envious court? Here feel we but the penalty of Adam. _As You Like It._ CHAPTER X. - Think not I love him, though I ask for him; `Tis but a peevish boy: -- yet he talks well -- But what care I for words? CHAPTER XI. - Compel the hawke to sit that is unmann`d, Or make the hound, untaught, to draw the deere, Or bring the free against his will in band, Or move the sad a pleasant tale to heere, Your time is lost, and you no whit the neere! So love ne learnes, of force the heart to knit: She serves but those that feel sweet fancies` fit. _Mirror for Magistrates._ CHAPTER XII. - Lo! dusky masses steal in dubious sight,
Along the leaguer`d wall, and bristling bank, Of the arm`d river; while with straggling light,
The stars peep through the vapor, dim and dank.
BYRON. CHAPTER XIII. - The goblin now the fool alarms, Hags meet to mumble o`er their charms, The night-mare rides the dreaming ass, And fairies trip it on the grass. COTTON. CHAPTER XIV. - Even such a man, so faint, so spiritless, So dull, so dead in look, so woe-begone, Drew Priam`s Curtain in the dead of night, And would have told him, half his Troy was burned. SHAKESPEARE. CHAPTER XV. - What pearl is it that rich men cannot buy, That learning is too proud to gather up; But which the poor and the despised of all Seek and obtain, and often find unsought? Tell me -- and I will tell thee what is truth. COWPER. CHAPTER XVI. - Thou glorious mirror, where the Almighty`s form Glasses itself in tempests; in all time, Calm or convulsed -- in breeze, or gale, or storm, Icing the pole, or in the torrid clime Dark-heaving; -- boundless, endless, and sublime -- The image of eternity; the throne Of the Invisible; even from out thy slime The monsters of the deep are made; each zone Obeys thee; thou goest forth, dread, fathomless, alone. BYRON. CHAPTER XVII. - His still refuted quirks he still repeats; New-raised objections with new quibbles meets, Till sinking in the quicksand he defends, He dies disputing, and the contest ends. COWPER. CHAPTER XVIII. - It is to be all made of sighs and tears; It is to be all made of faith and service; It is to be all made of phantasy; All made of passion, and all made of wishes; All adoration, duty, and observance; All humbleness, all patience, and impatience; All purity, all trial, all observance. SHAKESPEARE. CHAPTER XIX. - Thus was this place A happy rural seat of various view. MILTON. CHAPTER XIX, cont. - CHAPTER XX. - Wandering, I found on my ruinous walk, By the dial stone, aged and green, One rose of the wilderness, left on its stalk, To mark where a garden had been. CAMPBELL. CHAPTER XXI. - Each one has had his supping mess, The cheese is put into the press, The pans and bowls, clean scalded all, Reared up against the milk-house wall. COTTON. CHAPTER XXII. - Spectre though I be, I am not sent to scare thee or deceive; But in reward of thy fidelity. WORDSWORTH. CHAPTER XXIII. - What had the Eternall Maker need of thee, The world in his continuall course to keepe, That doest all things deface? ne lettest see The beautie of his worke? Indeede in sleepe, The slouth full body that doth love to steepe His lustlesse limbs, and drowne his baser mind, Doth praise thee oft, and oft from Stygian deepe, Calles thee his goddesse, in his errour blind, And great dame Nature`s hand-maide, chearing every kinde. _Faerie Queene._ CHAPTER XXIV. - Then drink my tears, while yet they fall -- Would that my bosom`s blood were balm; And -- well thou knowest -- I`d shed it all, To give thy brow one minute`s calm. MOORE. CHAPTER XXV. - There was a roaring in the wind all night; The rain came heavily, and fell in floods; But now the sun is rising calm and bright; The birds are singing in the distant woods. WORDSWORTH. CHAPTER XXVI. - You saw but sorrow in its waning form; A working sea remaining from a storm, Where now the weary waves roll o`er the deep, And faintly murmur ere they fall asleep. DRYDEN. CHAPTER XXVII. - The only amaranthian flower on earth Is virtue; the only lasting treasure, truth. COWPER. CHAPTER XXVIII. - Thou barraine ground, whom winter`s wrath hath wasted,
Art made a mirror to behold my plight: Whilome thy fresh spring flower`d: and after hasted
Thy summer proude, with daffodillies dight; And now is come thy winter`s stormy state, Thy mantle mar`d wherein thou maskedst late.
SPENSER. CHAPTER XXIX. - Playful she turn`d that he might see The passing smile her cheek put on; But when she marked how mournfully His eyes met hers, that smile was gone. _Lalla Rookh._ CHAPTER XXX. - Oh! let me only breathe the air, The blessed air that`s breath`d by thee; And, whether on its wings it bear Healing or death, `tis sweet to me! MOORE. |
