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reconciled conquerors, than to return to the cone tempt and hatred of their alienated countrymen.
There are many circumstances besides which Tender the relinquishing of his native region a much less sacrifice to the savage, than to the citizen. The latter is attached to his country by property, by artifical wants which tender that property necessary to his comfortable subsistence, by habits which attach him to the manners and customs of his own people, by fixed residence which connects his happiness intimately with the scenes wherewith he has been long conversant, and even the spot of earth which has been identified in his imagination with all his early pleasures, by a long dependence upon parents, and by a thousand nameless ties and charms of society. Whereas a savage can hardly be said to have a country. Accustomed to roam over hundreds of leagues in quest of prey, he is exclusively connected with no region, he is attached to no spot. Even whole tribes rising at once from their habitations and carrying with them the bones of their fathers, will often seek new forests, and new skies, for the convenience of hunting. Every place is the country of a savage where he can find game. His bow is his property. He has no wants which this cannot supply. Society can have few attractions to a savage who is a solitary and silent being. His patriotism is not that fine and complicated sentiment which makes the name ofs country so dear to the citizen of a polo ished nation; it resembles more the tie which binds robbers together, and which is dissolved, when the gang
is broken. So many circumstances concur in explaining the conduct of the adopted captive on the ordinary principles of human nature ; so little rea, son have we to recur continually, with certain philosophers to specific differences in order to account for varieties of character among different nations which, when fairly examined, are found to be the result only of moral, or of physical causes."
The next enquiry was, to what principle are we to ascribe that atrocious barbarity in torture exer. cised upon their prisoners, which seems to have not one sentiment of humanity mingled with it in the breast of a people who, on other occasions, are not destitute of the emotions of kindness?
We must look for the origin of this, as of most of the other distinctive traits of their moral character, in their rude and unformed state of society, which tends to extinguish all the sympathies of human nature, when their passions are inflamed by the rage of war. Refined and polished nations correct the extreme violence of the passions by the improvements of reason. The education of a savage is intended not to correct, but to give full and unrestrained scope to them. It is not surprizing then that their vengeful passions, which are always among the strongest impulses of uncultivated minds, should be extreme in their effects. Feuds even among themselves, are all mortal. They are not constrained to act with moderation through any apprehension of the power or control of laws--their only law is their own will; and this is often dietated by their revenge, and is always ready to be defended by their courage. But against their public enemies, rage, which is the predominant passion in the breast of a savage, acts with ungovernable and ex. terminating fury. In war their object is not conquest but destruction. And, as every warrior expects, if he should fall into the power of his enemies, to be put to death by the most cruel tortures, he is prepared, by anticipation, to retaliate this mortal injury upon his unfortunate captives. Great and polished nations fight to augment their power: they conquer, therefore, to preserve. Their armies combat for glory, not for revenge: their operations, consequently, guided by a cool policy, are never actuated by those furious, and deadly passions which inflame barbarian soldiers, and savage warriors. Bearing but a small proportion to the population of the country, the nation is but little affected by the individual fate of those who fall in battle. And armies are so constituted, that the loss of thou. sands of the common soldiery possesses but small interest in the sympathies of that class of society which chiefly influences the public measures, and gives the tone to the public feeling. If a few of better rank are slain in the field, their friends are consoled by the glory of their fall. But, among the America, the same men who fight, decide the fate of the prisoners, and they do it with the same passions with which they fought. They have no reasons of state, which induce nations to make war without passion. Their wars are the consequences of re. cent injuries keenly felt. Their armies, although small, bear a large proportion to their entire population. Every warrior stands in some relation of kindred to his whole tribe. And all who are slain in battle are lamented as brothers. No artificial sen. timents of glory serve to console the survivors : and they study only to quench their griefs, and their re
venge in the blood of their enemies. In the tortures they are preparing for their miserable victims, they see only the gratification of their own vengeance, and the torments which would have been destined for themselves if the chance of battle had thrown them into the hands of their prisoners. This reflection serves to inflame their rage ; and their mutual instigations when assembled round this horrid sacrifice, to avenge their slaughtered brothers, and the injuries meditated against themselvesexcite their
passions to the wildest fury. They make a festival of cruelty. In the midst of shouts and yells, and those wild and frantic gestures by which they express, at once, theirexultation, and their rage, every emotion of humanity and sympathy, if it should happen to rise in their breasts, is effectually extinguished. There is, indeed, a kind of wantonness in cruelty which forms a part of the character of the American savage, that resembles the pleasure which children are often seen to take in the writhings and convulsions of the inferior animals subjected to their persecutions and torments. A savage is, in many respects, little more than a grown child. But in the moment of victory and triumph, in their barbarous carousals, and the wild frolic of all their