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- 2026-01-30T20:47:57.722Z
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- text
- CHAPTER XXVI.
CONTAINING THE METAPHYSICS OF INDIAN-HATING, ACCORDING TO THE VIEWS OF
ONE EVIDENTLY NOT SO PREPOSSESSED AS ROUSSEAU IN FAVOR OF SAVAGES.
"The judge always began in these words: 'The backwoodsman's hatred of
the Indian has been a topic for some remark. In the earlier times of the
frontier the passion was thought to be readily accounted for. But Indian
rapine having mostly ceased through regions where it once prevailed, the
philanthropist is surprised that Indian-hating has not in like degree
ceased with it. He wonders why the backwoodsman still regards the red
man in much the same spirit that a jury does a murderer, or a trapper a
wild cat--a creature, in whose behalf mercy were not wisdom; truce is
vain; he must be executed.
"'A curious point,' the judge would continue, 'which perhaps not
everybody, even upon explanation, may fully understand; while, in order
for any one to approach to an understanding, it is necessary for him to
learn, or if he already know, to bear in mind, what manner of man the
backwoodsman is; as for what manner of man the Indian is, many know,
either from history or experience.
"'The backwoodsman is a lonely man. He is a thoughtful man. He is a man
strong and unsophisticated. Impulsive, he is what some might call
unprincipled. At any rate, he is self-willed; being one who less
hearkens to what others may say about things, than looks for himself, to
see what are things themselves. If in straits, there are few to help; he
must depend upon himself; he must continually look to himself. Hence
self-reliance, to the degree of standing by his own judgment, though it
stand alone. Not that he deems himself infallible; too many mistakes in
following trails prove the contrary; but he thinks that nature destines
such sagacity as she has given him, as she destines it to the 'possum.
To these fellow-beings of the wilds their untutored sagacity is their
best dependence. If with either it prove faulty, if the 'possum's betray
it to the trap, or the backwoodsman's mislead him into ambuscade, there
are consequences to be undergone, but no self-blame. As with the
'possum, instincts prevail with the backwoodsman over precepts. Like the
'possum, the backwoodsman presents the spectacle of a creature dwelling
exclusively among the works of God, yet these, truth must confess, breed
little in him of a godly mind. Small bowing and scraping is his, further
than when with bent knee he points his rifle, or picks its flint. With
few companions, solitude by necessity his lengthened lot, he stands the
trial--no slight one, since, next to dying, solitude, rightly borne, is
perhaps of fortitude the most rigorous test. But not merely is the
backwoodsman content to be alone, but in no few cases is anxious to be
so. The sight of smoke ten miles off is provocation to one more remove
from man, one step deeper into nature. Is it that he feels that whatever
man may be, man is not the universe? that glory, beauty, kindness, are
not all engrossed by him? that as the presence of man frights birds
away, so, many bird-like thoughts? Be that how it will, the backwoodsman
is not without some fineness to his nature. Hairy Orson as he looks, it
may be with him as with the Shetland seal--beneath the bristles lurks
the fur.
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