things or persons; and his relation to persons goes beyond
animal instinct and the sense of physical want only upon the condition
that it shall cling inseparably to them. The spiritual instincts of
humanity are in him also, but obscure, utterly obscure, not having
attained to a circulation in the blood, much less to intellectual
liberation. Obscure they are, fixed, in the bone, locked up in phosphate
of lime. Ideas touch them only as ideas lose their own shape and hide
themselves under physical forms.

Will he outgrow himself? Will he become post-Adamite, a man to whom
ideas are realities? I desire to say yes, and cannot. Again and again,
in chapel and elsewhere, I stood before a group, and questioned,
questioned their faces, to find there some prophecy of future growth.
And again and again these faces, with their heavy content, with their
dog-docility, with their expression of utter limitation, against which
nothing in them struggled, said to me,--"Your quest is vain; we are once
and forever Esquimaux." Had they been happy, had they been unhappy, I
had hoped for them. They were neither: they were contented. A
half-animal, African exuberance, token of a spirit obscure indeed, but
rich and effervescent, would open for them a future. One sign of dim
inward struggle and pain, as if the spirit resented his imprisonment,
would do the same. Both were wanting. They ruminate; life is the cud
they chew.

The Esquimaux are celebrated as gluttons. This, however, is but one half
the fact. They can eat, they can also fast, indefinitely. For a week
they gorge themselves without exercise, and have no indigestion; for a
week, exercising vigorously, they live on air, frozen air, too, and
experience no exhaustion. Last winter half a dozen appeared at
Square-Island Harbor, sent out their trained dogs, drove in a herd of
deer, and killed thirteen. They immediately encamped, gathered fuel,
made fires, began to cook and eat,--ate themselves asleep; then waked to
cook, eat, and sleep again, until the thirteenth deer had vanished.
Thereupon they decamped, to travel probably hundreds of miles, and
endure days on days of severe labor, before tasting, or more than
tasting, food again.

The same explanation serves. These physical capabilities, not to be
attained by the post-Adamite man, belong to the primitive races, as to
hawks, gulls, and beasts of prey. The stomach of the Esquimaux is his
cellar, as that of the camel is a cistern, wherein he