the one is infallibly attended by decay of the other. The departure of knowledge is the signal for universal retreat. When this light of the intellectual edifice grows dim, the movements of the 'mistress within' slacken into dullness; every step becomes painful — every effort a task. Those brilliant faculties of the soul which were perhaps preeminent for ethereal vigor, their graceful or majestic flights, now robbed of their elastic support, flutter feebly along, or sink helpless to the ground. Even the fires of genius wax fainter and fainter, and although they may occasionally start up into a light blaze, it is but an unnatural corruscation, set off to greater advantage by the feeble glare that preceded, and the almost total extinction that follows. Nor is this a mere fancy-sketch of what might be; it is a representation of a process actually realized by unnumbered minds, which yet is occasioned by no shock of disease, no dethronement of reason, by no cause inconsistent with the most undisturbed regularity of physical and intellectual organization, but owing simply to an almost total abstinence from the only legitimate nourishment of mind-the spirit and practice of literary acquisition. We are sometimes apt to forget that our mental as well as our moral condition is seldom stationary. We are compelled by the very laws of our being to be either advancing or retrograding, each of which movements it is left completely at our option to begin, prevent, accelerate, or retard. It may be difficult at the first sight, indeed, to believe, that 'while the eye is not dim nor the natural force abated,' superior talents should be converted into comparative obtuseness-that quickness of fancy and strength of conception should melt away from a mind once their favorite abode. This may appear to some a phenomenon too great for their philosophy to explain, or their faith to admit. But why so? Is it not reasonable to conclude that the same industry that was necessary to develope and invigorate these faculties, is necessary to sustain and preserve them unimpaired? Our bodily energies live by exercise, and perish without it: why should not those of the mind be subject to the same law? In like manner as the use of a limb may be suspended or entirely lost by long confinement in an unnatural posture, or long restraint from its proper office, the intellectual powers may be crippled or paralyzed, through the benumbing influence of continued inaction. Impeded by such an influence, the current of thought must grow cold and sluggish, and the whole mental machine work heavily and inefficiently. The literary decadence of which we are speaking, is necessarily a gradual and generally an insensible process. It never jumps to its conclusion, but glides along at an imperceptible and unsuspected pace. As nemo subituturpis fit, so no one suddenly loses his intellectual grade. The exhaustion of the mental store-house is not the work of a moment. Like the careless mechanic who loses tool after tool from his shop, until all are gone, he knows not how, so the intellectual idler permits the work-shop of his mind to be gradually stripped of its furniture, until at last, to his surprise and mortification, he finds it 'empty, swept and garnished.' Like a charged electrometer, which, if not nicely guarded, loses the subtle fluid by a thousand unperceived conductors, so the mind saturated with knowledge has a constant tendency to give off its ethereal properties at unnumbered and unnoticed points. Like the electrometer, too, it demands a constant attrition for the supply of the unavoidable and incidental abstraction to which it is exposed, as well as the acquisition of additional power and excitement. If we consider the rightful supremacy of all that belongs to our intellectual and moral being over the grosser interests of life, what greater incentive for vigorous exertion in the paths of literary attainment can we demand? That habits of sloth and listlessness trench upon the sacred domains of the soul, enfeeble its powers, and impede its progress in that which alone gives dignity to existence, is warrant enough to enlist our utmost efforts to avoid their influence. Motives for intellectual exertion cluster in generous profusion around us. The very consciousness of progress is delightful. The soul rejoices in fresh acquisitions. Perpetual improvement is the divine instinct of her being. On the other hand, a consciousness of retrogradation in any thing valuable is full of pain. A sense of increasing mental inefficiency cannot but be a chilling reflection. It dulls the beaming eye of hope, debilitates the step of manly confidence, and quenches the last spark of literary ambition. All pros pect of excelling is now precluded, and courage to undertake, departs with the ability to execute any thing great and important. Every consideration, then, of duty, honor, and pleasure, calls upon the student to redouble his activity in the noble contest in which he is engaged. Let no obstacles dishearten, no difficulties deter him, nor selfcomplacency tempt him to relax his efforts. Perseverance will conquer all things diligence will insure success. Tell us not of the tameness of plodding application; despise not laborious accumulations of knowledge, and patient appliances of thought, because sometimes sneeringly termed by the flippant and self-conceited the mere mechanical results and efforts of the mind. We have yet to learn that such have not ever been the distinguishing characteristics of truly great men. Let the consciousness of the limited range of his present attainments quicken the efforts of every youthful aspirant for the high prize of intellectual glory, and let him never forget that well-directed and patient exertion is sure to be ultimately and nobly rewarded. INDIAN SKETCHES AND LEGENDS. NUM BER TWO. A REMINISCENCE. THE treaty of 1827 was held, as I have said in Number One, at La Petit Butt de Mort. It is not usual for a narrator to go backward; I must beg permission, however, to take a retrograde step on this oc casion. The starting place, for Green Bay, was Detroit. At that place, the senior commissioner had provided all that was necessary, in supplies, etc. On reaching Mackinac, we were met by rumors. The Indians, it was said, were in motion. Hostile indications were reported. Upon reaching Green Bay, these rumors were multiplied. The treaty-ground was forty miles above Fort Howard; the supplies were ordered to be sent up, and every thing to be got in readiness for the business of the mission. The Indians, although notified in time, were, as Indians always are, slow in coming in. The delay on this occasion was resolved in part into the unsettled state of affairs along the borders, whence the rumors had sprung. A movement was determined on, the object of which was to call off the Indians from the objects which it appeared had excited their attention, and which threatened the peace of the frontier. The plan was this: The elder commissioner was to ascend the Fox River, cross the Portage, and pass down the Ouisconsin, thence up to Prairie du Chien, and while he ascertained the true state of things, send invitations among the remaining bands to come in to the treaty. Thence he was to descend the Mississippi, and return by the way of the Illinois and Chicago, and ascertain the feelings of the Potawatomies, who had been reputed as restless, and extend a like invitation to them. The junior commissioner was to cross the head waters of Lake Michigan, touch at Mackinac, and pass on to the Saut de St. Marie, and gather the dispositions of the Indians of those regions. It was arranged to meet at Green Bay in a fortnight. The trip to the Saut was made; and at the time appointed, the junior commissioner, through storms and amidst lake billows in his bark canoe, reached the opening into Fox River: his voyagers were in high spirits, and, as is their custom, were chanting. The flag of the frail bark was flying from the stern, which distinguished it from the trader's canoe. The songs and the flag had reached the ears and eyes of the garrison at Fort Howard; and when opposite that fortress, the gates were thrown suddenly open, and several officers came running out, waving their hands, and evidencing some anxiety. The order was given, Turn in!' The wharf was soon reached when, and before the salutations were passed, it was announced that a rumor had come in by way of the Portage, bringing intelligence that the senior commissioner had been fired upon by a party of Indians - that his cook and two of his men were killed - and that he had been made prisoner! What was to be done? No time was to be lost. All was anxiety and deep feeling. The direction from the junior commissioner was: Man your fort with as many men as may be necessary for its defence, and with the remainder push instantly into the Indian country, and rescue the com The missioner. I will raise a party of Indians, and accompany you.' proposition was received as gallant men might be expected to receive it, and the junior commissioner pushed off to Shanty Town, (Menominee Village,) three miles up Fox River, to prepare for the expedition. He found the inhabitants in a state of great alarm. Preparations were immediately put on foot by a general warning to defend the place, while the women were preparing to take refuge in the fort. Presently a runner came in. He was soon surrounded. Taking from his bosom a paper, he handed it to the hand nearest to him. It was from the elder commissioner. It dissipated the rumor of the attack, and of his captivity, but confirmed the hostile movements of a portion of the Indians. He had reached Prairie du Chien, just on the heel of the murderer of Gagnier, etc., and with his usual promptitude garrisoned the fort as well as he could, by mustering up the old guns, and directing the settlers of the Prairie to go into it, whilst he would descend the Mississippi to St. Louis, and on his way engage the services of the Sac and Fox Indians, and send them on as auxiliaries to protect the place, and on his arrival at St. Louis, confer with General Atkinson upon ulterior measures. General Atkinson put his troops in motion. The elder commissioner ascended the Illinois, coasted the southern shore of Lake Michigan, and arrived in about the same time that a steam-boat could have accomplished the route in safety at Green Bay. It was determined to hold the treaty. From a thousand to twelve hundred Indians had by this time assembled. A despatch was sent to the village that Four-legs, a chief whose village was at Lake Winnebago, had been on the treaty ground, and carried himself rather insolently. An attack on those charged with the property for the treaty was anticipated by Four-legs and his band. The junior commissioner ascended the river, and was followed immediately by a six-pounder, and additional force. He remained a night and a day, and seeing nothing to confirm the rumor, returned to the Bay. Beside fulfilling the original design of the treaty, it was agreed to use the occasion to demand the murderers who had killed Gagnier, and butchered his family; to announce that General Atkinson was ascending the Mississippi in great force, and that a way would be cut through their country, in case of their refusal to give up the murderers - not with axes but guns. Negociations were meanwhile opened with the officer in command of Fort Howard to ascend the Fox River, and form a junction at the Portage with General Atkinson's command. This was agreed to, just at the conclusion of the treaty, upon condition that one hundred Indians should be raised to act as flankers, etc. The night before the council at the Butt de Mort broke up, was one of much anxiety. War rumors and threatened attacks had become so common as to be disregarded — but on the evening preceding the breaking up of the council, a Wabanaukie Indian woman gave notice that we were to be attacked. In confirmation of her intelligence, she gave out that the Winnebagoes had been seen the night before proposing to exchange lead for powder; and this was confirmed by the whetting of knives during the greater part of the night. The guard was doubled, and the usual quantity of sleep was enjoyed by those who were not upon that duty. The senior commissioner had returned by the way of Mackinac to Detroit. A meeting was appointed to be held at Green Bay the day after his departure. The junior commissioner, in company with the Indian Agent, and some others, met the Indians who had been deputed for the purpose. The first words old Four-legs uttered, was a request for a supply of powder! He was answered: You shall have it but if you do not consent to give up the murderers, you will get it in smoke, and with bullets - not in kegs or powder-horns.' Nothing conclusive was decided on. This looked ominous. Immediately a call was made for one hundred Indians to accompany the New-York troops. They 'came in, painted for war. It required strong measures to keep them from striking on the spot. They were told the first man that fired a gun without orders, would be hung on the tree nearest at hand. The force that ascended the river to make a junction with General Atkinson, was composed of one hundred and ten regulars; twentyeight militia; forty-nine Wabanaukies, or Indians of the East, (NewYork Indians,) and one hundred and twelve Menominees total, two hundred and ninety. This force left Green Bay, in barges, on Thursday evening, the 23d August, 1827. The way being now fairly open for incidents, I promise them in my next. M. THE ATLANTIC. HIGHWAY of Nations! from all impost free, And Commerce makes thy bounding breast her throne! Thy rough waves stranded on a shore unknown, Have peopled, hewed, and lent the forest wings, And launched them on thy depths, to ride like bannered kings. |