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Fuller, S. M. (Sarah Margaret), 1810-1850

"Summer on the Lakes, in 1843"


With them in Milwaukie, was a chief, the finest Indian figure I saw,
more than six feet in height, erect, and of a sullen, but grand gait and
gesture. He wore a deep red blanket, which fell in large folds from his
shoulders to his feet, did not join in the dance, but slowly strode
about through the streets, a fine sight, not a French-Roman, but a real
Roman. He looked unhappy, but listlessly unhappy, as if he felt it was
of no use to strive or resist.
While in the neighborhood of these lakes, we visited also a foreign
settlement of great interest. Here were minds, it seemed, to "comprehend
the trusts," of their new life; and if they can only stand true to them,
will derive and bestow great benefits therefrom.
But sad and sickening to the enthusiast who comes to these shores,
hoping the tranquil enjoyment of intellectual blessings, and the pure
happiness of mutual love, must be a part of the scene that he encounters
at first. He has escaped from the heartlessness of courts, to encounter
the vulgarity of a mob; he has secured solitude, but it is a lonely, a
deserted solitude. Amid the abundance of nature he cannot, from petty,
but insuperable obstacles, procure, for a long time, comforts, or a
home.
But let him come sufficiently armed with patience to learn the new
spells which the new dragons require, (and this can only be done on the
spot,) he will not finally be disappointed of the promised treasure; the
mob will resolve itself into men, yet crude, but of good dispositions,
and capable of good character; the solitude will become sufficiently
enlivened and home grow up at last from the rich sod.


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