The Indian affairs on the northwestern frontier were now every day assuming a more hostile appearance, alarm and consternation manifested itself so strongly among the frontier settlers, that Governor Harrison was ordered to hold himself in readiness to attack or defend as subsequent events might require. The Prophet's band had considerably increased, and although nothing had as yet occurred, which could be regarded as a declaration of hostilities, yet every thing indicated that to preserve peace under present circumstances would be impossible. Mysterious meetings were continually held among the Indians, and orators were never wanting, to paint to them in high wrought colours, the wrongs and grievances under which they suffered. English agents, agents from the most enlightened and civilized country on the globe, were found in attendance at all their meetings, inflaming their prejudices, exciting their passions, and urging them on to a cruel and relentless war against the Americans, a people who had won for themselves the applause of the world, and of whom England, as their mother country, should have been justly proud. And not only was England, proud England, thus warring with those united to her by the strongest ties of blood, but she was urging on to inevitable extermination the innocent and happy aborigines of our country.—She turned their thoughts from the channels in which they were accustomed to flow, and made them dream of dominion and of conquest.—She harked on those, whose passions, when excited, justly entitled them to the appellation of “blood hounds of war,” and turned them loose against the helpless mother, and the new-born babe. She by her influence set fire to our cabins, along the entire north-western frontier, and by the red glare which lighted up the dark and surrounding forest, showed the mangled remains of butchered families. Yes, England, by thy agents thou hast done this and much more; yet with its recital, there is blended no unkind feeling—for I still love thee as thou art, “a handful of earth cast upon the wide waters”—yes, I love thee, and have wandered with pleasure over thy lands, and gazed with delight on thy cities, thy wealth, thy pomp, and thy pageantry;—and yet, if when looking abroad, from the top of one of your green clad hills, upon the wide and extended landscape which lay before me, I should have been reminded of the beautiful prairies in my own native land; and while dwelling in fancy for a moment upon them, I have thought of the desolation which had sometimes marked an Indian trail, together with some of the stories which were told of British influence, pardon me, I could not help it. As I said before, I still love thee; thou art great and powerful; charity, benevolence, hospitality, unbounded knowledge, together with all that is beautiful and bright in science, dwells with thee;—the finest specimens of art,