Western Characters | Page 6

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 powerful
agency, at work in modifying their original character. What the primary
effects of this cause were likely to be, we may observe in the white
emigrants, who have sought a home among the forests and upon the
plains of the west: whatever they may have been before their migration,
they soon become meditative, abstracted, and taciturn. These, and
especially the last, are the peculiar characteristics of the Indian; his

taciturnity, indeed, amounts to austerity, sometimes impressing the
observer with the idea of affectation. The dispersion, which must have
been the effect of unlimited choice in lands--the mode of life pursued
by those who depended upon the chase for subsistence--the gradual
estrangement produced among the separate tribes, by the necessity of
wide hunting-grounds--the vast expanse of territory at
command--causes operating so long, as to produce a fixed and
corresponding nature--are the sources, to which we may trace almost all
the Indian's distinctive traits.
"Isolation," Carlyle says, "is the sum total of wretchedness to man;"
and, doubtless, the idea which he means to convey is just. "But," in the
words of De Quincey, "no man can be truly great, without at least
chequering his life with solitude." Separation from his kind, of course,
deprives a man of the humanizing influences, which are the
consequences of association; but it may, at the same time, strengthen
some of the noblest qualities of human nature. Thus, we are authorized
to ascribe to this agency, a portion of the Indian's fortitude under
hardships and suffering, his contempt for mere meanness, and above all,
the proud elevation of his character. The standards of comparison,
which were furnished by his experience, were few, and, of course,
derived from the ideas of barbarians; but all such as were in any way
modified by the solitude of his existence, were rendered impressive,
solemn, and exalted.
In the vast solitudes of Asia, whence the Indian races migrated to this
continent, so far as the loneliness of savage deserts and endless plains
might exert an influence, we should expect to find the same general
character. But the Asians are almost universally pastoral--the
Americans never; the wildest tribes of Tartary possess numerous useful
domesticated animals--the Americans, even in Mexico,[5] had none;
the Tartars are acquainted with the use of milk, and have been so from
time immemorial--the Indian, even at this day, has adopted it only in a
few localities, among the more enlightened tribes. The migration of the
latter either took place at a period