rong, none of that deep
corruption of manners, which is usually joined with ignorance and
rudeness among nations which, after advancing to civilization, have
relapsed into a state of barbarism. The Indian was indebted to no one
but himself; his virtues, his vices, and his prejudices were his own
work; he had grown up in the wild independence of his nature.

If, in polished countries, the lowest of the people are rude and
uncivil, it is not merely because they are poor and ignorant, but that,
being so, they are in daily contact with rich and enlightened men.
The sight of their own hard lot and of their weakness, which is
daily contrasted with the happiness and power of some of their
fellow-creatures, excites in their hearts at the same time the
sentiments of anger and of fear: the consciousness of their inferiority
and of their dependence irritates while it humiliates them. This state
of mind displays itself in their manners and language; they are at once
insolent and servile. The truth of this is easily proved by observation;
the people are more rude in aristocratic countries than elsewhere, in
opulent cities than in rural districts. In those places where the rich
and powerful are assembled together the weak and the indigent feel
themselves oppressed by their inferior condition. Unable to perceive a
single chance of regaining their equality, they give up to despair, and
allow themselves to fall below the dignity of human nature.

This unfortunate effect of the disparity of conditions is not observable
in savage life: the Indians, although they are ignorant and poor, are
equal and free. At the period when Europeans first came among them
the natives of North America were ignorant of the value of riches, and
indifferent to the enjoyments which civilized man procures to himself
by their means. Nevertheless there was nothing coarse in their
demeanor; they practised an habitual reserve and a kind of aristocratic
politeness. Mild and hospitable when at peace, though merciless in
war beyond any known degree of human ferocity, the Indian would expose
himself to die of hunger in order to succor the stranger who asked
admittance by night at the door of his hut; yet he could tear in pieces
with his hands the still quivering limbs of his prisoner. The famous
republics of antiquity never gave examples of more unshaken courage,
more haughty spirits, or more intractable love of independence than were
hidden in former times among the w