MISCELLANY.

CURSORY REMARKS

UPON AN ARTICLE IN THE "UNITED STATES LITERARY GAZETTE,”

FOR AUGUST, 1826, ENTITLED EXAMINATION OF AN ARTICLE IN THE 'NORTH AMERICAN REVIEW,'" &c.

[In giving a place in the Miscellany department of this journal, to the following "Remarks" on a paper which appeared in the same department of "The United States Literary Gazette," we would not be considered as responsible for their correctness, or as taking a side in this controversy. We think the general subject an interesting one, and are therefore not unwilling to promote a discussion of it, when carried on with fairness. ED.]

It will be recollected by many of our readers, that, some years since, Mr. Du Ponceau, a member of the Philadelphia Philosophical Society, opened a correspondence with Mr. Heckewelder, a Moravian missionary, who had resided a long time with the Delaware tribe of Indians, and who was reputed to be well acquainted with the language and customs of that particular tribe, and, likewise, to be well informed as to the Indians in general. The result of this correspondence was given to the public in the first volume of the "Transactions" of that Society; and, being ushered forth under such respectable patronage, was generally read with confidence, and regarded as a standard work on the subjects it embraced. Even the best informed of the literati* pronounced high encomiums upon the work, and at once the poet and the novelist resorted to it for their models of for their models of savage life. Indeed, all were pleased to see the Indian character, which had before been represented in such dark colors, now appearing in all the softened and alluring tints of almost Arcadian innocence and simplicity. This reputation of Mr. Heckewelder's work continued with little diminution, until the appearance of the article in the "North American Review," which, presuming to call it in question, has called forth the rather angry "Examination" to which we have alluded.

As this controversy has given rise to a question, which involves the reputation of Mr. Heckewelder's work as one of unimpeachable

*We are told, however, that Mr. Walsh pronounced the work to be, in his opinion, greatly overrated.

accuracy, and which will probably determine the degree of credibility he is entitled to, we will not thrust our feeble lance into the combat, but leave the lists to the principal champions, who, we doubt not, will bring it to an issue. But we may be allowed to state, that our confidence in Mr. Heckewelder's account of the aborigines was not shaken for the first time by the article in the "North American Review." We doubt whether any one, having even a superficial knowledge of the Indians (and we profess to have no more, although, like the critic, we have had some "intercourse with natives of different tribes, and have seen many specimens of the red men from the pure and uncontaminated nations of the West," and on their own hunting grounds, too, which is, perhaps, more than the critic can boast, at least we should judge so), we say, we doubt whether any one, having even a limited acquaintance with the Indians, could have read many of Mr. Heckewelder's descriptions, without being led to regard them as the exaggerations of a credulous heart, and somewhat misguided judgment. Even without such an acquaintance, with only a common apprehension of what would be the probable character of a wild man, most readers would set down many of his representations as absurd.

We will cite only one instance which now occurs to us (for it is several years since we have read the work), that of the story of the Indian, who had been converted from the vagrant idleness of a savage life, from the strong aversion to agricultural labor which is and so implanted in the habits of every male Indian, to the steady farmer-like industry of a white man, by a few hints derived from the more assiduous and provident manners of birds and fishes. Mr. Heckewelder says, when he inquired of him the cause of this singular pains-taking and foresight, he gave him an answer, which he relates, as he says, as nearly in his own words as possible." This answer is too long to be quoted here; but it would do credit to any well-educated moral philosopher, and concludes with the following observations; "And is it possible, said I [to himself], that a being so formed as I am, was created to live in idleness, while the birds, who have no hands, and nothing but their little bills to help them, work with cheerfulness and without being told to do so? Has, then, the great Creator of man, and of all living creatures, given me all these limbs for no purpose? It cannot be; I will try to go to work. I did so; and went away from the village to a spot of ground, planted corn, and raised cattle. Ever since that time I have enjoyed a good appetite and sound sleep; while others spend their nights in dancing, and are suffering

hunger, I live in plenty, &c. I am happy. See, my friend; the birds and fishes have brought me to reflection, and taught me to work!" We will venture to affirm, that few, if any readers, upon the slightest reflection, would believe it possible, that this was "nearly," or even remotely, either the language or sentiments of an Indian; that an untutored child of nature, or even one somewhat tutored, ever bethought himself of moralizing, with such Æsop-like shrewdness, upon the familiar inmates of his native forests; or that any Indian, who had been taught the use of his legs in the chase, and of his arms in wielding the bow and the tomahawk, ever supposed that he had not found out the proper application of them, until a bird suggested to him that they were intended as helps in agriculture. Besides, what Indian was ever wanting in a good appetite; or even found unquiet slumbers from the want of exercise? We know of no parallel to the credulous simplicity with which this story is told, excepting that of the Butcher-bird or Nine-killer, recorded of the same person, by Wilson, in his “American Ornithology," in which Mr. Heckewelder represents this bird as having "caught, and stuck nine grasshoppers a day," upon the thorn-bushes in his neighbourhood. It may have been this same little bird, so ingenious at impaling grasshoppers, which set the Indian a-moralizing, in a manner not more extraordinary, than the nice calculation of this ninefold songster.

Mr. Heckewelder, by his long residence among the Delaware Indians, had undoubtedly acquired an intimate and correct knowledge of the characteristics of that tribe; and had he confined himself to a description of them, such as they had been developed to his observation, his book would have been a valuable repository of facts. But as soon as he assumed, either through his own benevolent enthusiasm, or at the prompting of his ardent and flattering correspondent, the character of a vindicator of the aboriginal race, against the misapprehensions or misrepresentations of other writers, he insensibly lost sight of the plain path of facts, and, without being aware of it, became seduced into shadowy speculations, and into many vagaries not unlike fictions. Mr. Heckewelder knew that he wrote upon a subject which was but little understood. There is a restraint imposed upon the mind, while engaged in discussing subjects with which the public is. supposed to be somewhat acquainted. We need scarcely remark, that this restraint is loosened in proportion as the subject recedes from familiarity. Now, it is well known, that all writers on the Indians, one of the most obscure subjects which has excited an

equal degree of interest, have been supposed to have taken great latitude in their descriptions. Each writer, while correcting the errors of his predecessor, has fallen into others, which his successor detects, leaving the same task still to be performed with respect to himself.

But Mr. Heckewelder had, superadded to this consciousness that his subject was but little known, an assurance, that he was pouring his information into ears that were open and greedy to "devour up his discourse." He had been sought out by a respectable member of a most respectable society, as a man of "learning and information," and of "intimate acquaintance with the languages, habits, and history" of the Indians. In pursuance of this flattering solicitation, this venerable septuagenarian,-for we believe he was then threescore and ten years old,—took up the subject in all its wide-spreading fulness, even to forty-four ramifications. In dilating thus, in his old age, through more than three hundred and fifty octavo pages, the fading recollections of former years, Mr. Heckewelder undertook a task in which he might fail without discredit. In the earnestness of his zeal, he drew a broad outline, which could not easily be filled up with sober realities; and the garrulous exaggerations of humbled pride and departed greatness, supplied the place of more authentic and probable history. There were doubtless few who read his story of a warlike nation, converted, by a flimsy trick, into old women, without being struck with its absurdity. As the reviewer observed, it is "too puerile for grave criticism." Nothing but sheer force, we will venture to assert, ever induced one tribe to succumb to another. The Indians have an invincible love of independence, and fear or absolute weakness alone ever destroys its force or elasticity.

Mr. Heckewelder, in his ardent desire to elevate the character of the Indians, has, with the inevitable proneness resulting from such a partial feeling, run into an extreme. The Indian is a man, indued with all the passions which belong to the rest of the human race. The difference between him and the civilized man, is, we speak not of the intellect, that the Indian is in a wild state, and that his passions are under less control. But because he is thus loosed from the restraints which keep the civilized man in better order, it does not follow that he is always in a paroxysm of ferocity. When an Indian is wronged, he pays back with vengeance, because he has no laws to appeal to, and because his rights depend upon his own arm alone for their defence. But he is not always in an excited state. Wrongs are not frequent

among the Indians. The conviction that a certain retribution, though it may be delayed, will follow the slightest aggression operates as a restraint upon cupidity and violence, that results in a security somewhat resembling that which is afforded by laws. The wigwams of the savage are not, therefore, the constant abodes of outrage. On the contrary, as the causes of excitement are few, and even those are kept in check by prudence, their quiet may, perhaps, be as seldom disturbed as that of a common village. We have seen many tribes, and visited many cabins, and never recollect to have seen them the scenes of disorder and violence, excepting during the orgies of intemperance. The Indians pursue the chase, and join in their games, with about the same degree of harmony that generally prevails in the employments and recreations of the whites. But when exasperated, the Indians are not, of course, equally scrupulous as to the degree to which their anger may extend. The white man is checked in his rage by education, by moral, perhaps religious principles; his wrath may go down with the sun, or he may seek redress of the laws, which are always open to his appeal. But the savage savage finds no bar to his anger, arising either from his education, or any moral or religious principle; his Great Spirit does not assume vengeance to himself, nor has he ever been taught to forgive. His passions, however, though thus unchecked, are not the ebullition of the moment. Prudence chastens them, and he patiently awaits the tardy moment, when he can wreak his vengeance with safety and success.

It is said, that the Indian is grateful for a kindness. It may be, as there are many instances recorded of it. But gratitude, with them, is not a common sentiment; and treachery does not bear the character it does among the whites. To betray, when prudence dictates, is in obedience to a common principle. Much, likewise, is said of the hospitality of the Indian. It is true, his cabin is always open, for he has no bar to his door, and lays little more claim to the space within, than to the unappropriated ground without. He does not regard it as doing a favor to receive the unbidden, but seldom unwelcome guest, because his coming or going is attended with no ceremony, and produces no trouble; and if he has any thing to eat, it is freely shared, for he never garners up for the future, and feels no reluctance to part with that on which he fixes no value for the morrow. Bravery and fortitude are common virtues among the Indians. In the latter virtue they rise, perhaps, above any other race of men. There is no parallel to the patient and even triumphant endurance of the most accumulated agonies by