e and oppression, of which he has been the victim. If we
were to receive the authority of these writers, we should conclude that
the native was not a savage, at all, until the landing of the whites;
and, instead of ascribing his atrocities to the state of barbarism in
which he lived--thus indicating their only valid apology--we should
degrade both the white and the red men, by attributing to the former
all imaginable vices, and, to the latter, a peculiar aptitude in
acquiring them. These mistakes are natural and excusable--as the man who
kills another in self-defence is justifiable; but the Indian character
is not the less misconceived, just as the man slain is not less dead,
than if malice had existed in both cases. To praise one above his
merits, is as fatal to his consideration, as decidedly to disparage him.
In either case, however, there is a chance that a just opinion may be
formed; but, when both extremes are asserted with equal confidence, the
mind is confused, and can settle upon nothing. The latter is precisely
the condition of the Indian; and it is with a view of correcting such
impressions, that this article is written.

The American Indian, then, is the ideal of a savage--no more, no less:
and I call him the ideal, because he displays _all_ those qualities,
which the history of the human race authorizes us to infer, as the
characteristics of an unenlightened people, for many ages isolated from
the rest of mankind.[4] He differs, in many particulars, from the other
barbarians of the world; but the broadest distinction lies in this
_completeness_ of his savage character. The peculiarities of the country
in which their lives assume their direction, its climate, isolation; or
connection with the world--all these things contribute to modify the
aspects presented by native races. In such points as are liable to
modification by these causes, the American differs from every other
savage; and without entering into an elaborate comparison of
circumstances--for which we have neither the material, the inclination,
nor the space--it may be proper briefly to consider _one_ of these
causes, and endeavor to trace its effects in the Indian's moral
physiognomy.

The state of this continent, when the first Asiatic wanderers landed
upon its shores, was, of course, that of a vast, unbroken solitude; and
the contemplation of its almost boundless extent and profound
loneliness, was certainly the first, and probably the most