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PREFACE
In venturing to
place before the public these “ fragments” of a journal addressed to
a friend, I cannot but feel considerable misgiving as to the
reception such a work is likely to meet with, particularly at this
time, when the country to which it partly refers is the subject of
so much difference of opinion, and so much animosity of feeling.
This little book, the mere result of much thoughtful idleness and
many an idle thought, has grown up insensibly out of an accidental
promise. It never was intended to go before the world in its present
crude and desultory form ; and I am too sensible of its many
deficiencies, not to feel that some explanation is due to that
public, which has hitherto regarded my attempts in literature with
so much forbearance and kindness.
While in Canada, I was thrown into scenes and regions hitherto
undescribed by any traveller, (for the northern shores of Lake Huron
are almost new ground,) and into relations with the Indian tribes,
such as few European women of refined and civilised habits have ever
risked, and none have recorded. My intention was to have given the
result of what I had seen, and the reflections and comparisons
excited by so much novel experience, in quite a different form—and
one less obtrusive: but owing to the intervention of various
circumstances, and occupation of graver import, I found myself
reduced to the alternative of either publishing the book as it now
stands, or of suppressing it altogether. Neither the time nor the
attention necessary to remodel the whole were within my own power.
In preparing these notes for the press, much has been omitted of a
personal nature, but far too much of such irrelevant matter still
remains ;— far too much which may expose me to misapprehension, if
not even to severe criticism; but now, as heretofore, I throw myself
upon “ the merciful construction of good women,” wishing it to be
understood that this little book, such as it is, is more
particularly addressed to my own sex. I would fain have extracted,
altogether, the impertinent leaven of egotism which necessarily
mixed itself up with the journal form of writing: but, in making the
attempt, the whole work lost its original character—lost its air of
reality, lost even its essential truth, and whatever it might
possess of the grace of ease and pictorial animation: it became
flat, heavy, didactic. It was found that to extract the tone of
personal feeling, on which the whole series of action and
observation depended, was like drawing the thread out of a string of
beads—the chain of linked ideas and experiences fell to pieces, and
became a mere unconnected, incongruous heap. I have been obliged to
leave the flimsy thread of sentiment to sustain the facts and
observations loosely strung together; feeling strongly to what it
may expose me, but having deliberately chosen the alternative,
prepared, of course, to endure what I may appear to have defied;
though, in truth, defiance and assurance are both far from me.
These notes were written in Upper Canada, but it will be seen that
they have little reference to the politics or statistics of that
unhappy and mismanaged, but most magnificent country. Subsequently I
made a short tour through Lower Canada, just before the breaking out
of the late revolt. Sir John Colborne, whose mind appeared to me
cast in the antique mould of chivalrous honour, and whom I never
heard mentioned in either province but with respect and veneration,
was then occupied in preparing against the exigency which he
afterwards met so effectively. I saw of course something of the
state of feeling on both sides, but not enough to venture a word on
the subject. Upper Canada appeared to me loyal in spirit, but
resentful and repining under the sense of injury, and suffering from
the 9
total absence of all sympathy on the part of the English government
with the condition, the wants, the feelings, the capabilities of the
people and country. I do not mean to say that this want of sympathy
now exists to the same extent as formerly; it has been abruptly and
painfully awakened, but it has too long existed. In climate, in
soil, in natural productions of every kind, the upper province
appeared to me superior to the lower province, and well calculated
to become the inexhaustible timber-yard and granary of the mother
country. The want of a sea-port, the want of security of property,
the general mismanagement of the government lands—these seemed to me
the most prominent causes of the physical depression of this
splendid country, while the poverty and deficient education of the
people, and a plentiful lack of public spirit in those who were not
of the people, seemed sufficiently to account for the moral
depression everywhere visible. Add a system of mistakes and
maladministration, not chargeable to any one individual, or any one
measure, but to the whole tendency of our Colonial government; the
perpetual change of officials, and change of measures; the
fluctuation of principles destroying all public confidence, and a
degree of ignorance relative to the country itself, not credible
except to those who may have visited it;—add these three things
together, the want of knowledge, the want of judgment, the want of
sympathy, on the part of the government, how can we be surprised at
the strangely anomalous condition of the governed ?—that of a land
absolutely teeming with the richest capabilities, yet poor in
population, in wealth, and in energy ! But I feel I am getting
beyond my depth. Let us hope that the reign of our young Queen will
not begin, like that of Maria Theresa, with the loss of one of her
fairest provinces; and that hereafter she may look upon the map of
her dominions without the indignant blushes and tears with which
Maria Theresa, to the last moment of her life, contemplated the map
of her dismembered empire, and regretted her lost Silesia.
I have abstained generally from politics and personalities; from the
former, because such discussions are foreign to my turn of mind and
above my capacity, and from the latter on principle ; and I wish it
to be distinctly understood, that whenever I have introduced any
personal details, it has been with the express sanction of those
most interested,—I allude particularly to the account of Colonel
Talbot and the family at the Sault Ste. Marie. For the rest, I have
only to add, that on no subject do I wish to dictate an opinion, or
assume to speak as one having authority: my utmost ambition extends
no farther than to suggest matter for inquiry and reflection. If
this little book contain mistakes, they will be chastised and
corrected, and I shall be glad of it. If it contain but one truth,
and that no bigger than a grain of mustard-seed, it will not have
been cast into the world in vain, nor will any severity of criticism
make me, in such a case, repent of having published it, even in its
present undigested and, I am afraid, unsatisfactory form.
Volume 1 |
Volume 2 |
Volume 3 |
