It is often claimed for the Indian that, before the white man put him in
the way of a freer indulgence of his unhappy craving for drink, he was
as moral a being as one unrenewed by Divine grace could be expected to
be. Unfortunately, this statement involves no definition of what might be
considered moral, under the circumstances. Now, there will be disagreeing
estimates of what a moral character, upon which there has been no
descent of heavenly grace, or where grace has not supervened to essay its
recreation, or its moulding anew, should be; and there will also, I think,
be divergent views as to a code of morals to be practised which shall
comport with the exhibition of a _reasonably_ seemly morality. I
cannot, at least, concur in that definition of a moral character, upon
which no operation of Divine grace has been expended, for its raising or
its beautifying, which accepts that of the pagan Indian as its highest
expression; and, distinctly, hesitate to affirm that a high moral instinct
inheres in the Indian, or that such is permitted to dominate his mind;
and, when I find one of these very writers who claim for him a high
inborn morality, discovering in him such indwelling monsters as revenge,
mercilessness, implacability, the affirmation falters not the less upon
my tongue. That very many of the graver crimes laid at the Indian's
door, and the revolting heinousness of which the records of our courts
reveal; may be traced to his prescribing for himself, and practising,
a lax standard of morals, is a statement which it would be idle to
dispute. That the marriage tie exacts from him not the most onerous of
interpretations, and that the scriptural basis for a sound morality,
involved in the declaration, "and they twain shall be one flesh," not
seldom escapes, in his case, its full and due honoring, are, likewise,
affirmations not susceptible of being refuted. That, for instance, is
not a high notion of marital constancy (marital is scarcely the term,
for I am speaking now of the pagan, who rejects the idea of marriage,
though often, I confess, living happily and uninterruptedly with the woman
of his choice) which permits the summary disruption of the bond between
man and woman; nor is paternal responsibility rigorously defined by one,
who causes to cease, at will, his labor and care for, and support of,
his children, leaving the reassuring of these to those children contingent
upon the mother finding some one else to give them and herself a home.
To follow a lighter vein for a moment. The Police Magistrate at
Brantford, before whom many of these little domesticities come for
their due appreciation (for they disclose, often, elements of really
baffling complexity) not less than their ventilation and unravelling,
is an eminently peace-loving man, and quite an adept at patching up
such-like conjugal trifles. He will dispense from his tribunal sage
advice, and prescribe remedial measures, which shall have untold efficacy,
in dispelling mutual mistrust, restoring mutual confidence, and bringing
about a lasting re-union. He will interpose, like some potent magician,
to transform a discordant, recriminating, utterly unlovely couple, into
a pair of harmless, peaceable, love-consumed doves. There rises before
my mind a case for illustration. A couple lived on the Reserve, whose
domestic life had become so completely embittered that every vestige
of old-time happiness had fled. The agency of the Police Magistrate was
sought to decree terms of separation, as there was an adamantine resolve
on the part of each to no longer live with the other. Thus, in a frame
of mind altogether repelling the notion of conversion to gentler views,
or the idea of laudable endeavor, on the part of another, to instil
milder counsels, being availingly expended, they repaired to the Police
Magistrate's office. He, by invoking old recollections on either side,
and judiciously inviting them to a retrospection of their former mutual
courtesies, and early undimmed pleasures, gradually brought the would-be
sundered people to a wiser mind. I believe there have only been two or
three outbursts of domestic infelicity since.
Certain notions, bound up with the Indian's practice, in times now
happily passed away, of polygamy, may be construed into an advocacy
of the Deceased Wife's Sister's Bill, which engaged the attention of
Parliament last session, and bids fair to take up the time and thought of
our legislators, in sessions yet to come. The Indian usually sought to
marry two sisters, holding that the children of the one would be loved
and cared for more by the other than if the wives were not related. The
concurrent existence of both mothers is, of course, presumed here. The
question remains to be asked, would the children of the one sister,
were their mother dead, be as well loved and cared for by the surviving
sister, were she called upon to exercise the functions of a step-mother;
and would the children of the dead sister love the children of the living
sister, were they not viewed upon the same footing as those children?
That the Indian--the _Christian_ Indian--frequently contemns the
means unsparingly used, and the attempts and arguments put forth, by his
spiritual overseers, to restrain his immoral propensities, to bridle his
immoral instinct, and to ameliorate and elevate, generally, his moral
tone, I fear, will not be gainsaid. That very many, on the other hand,
practice a high morality, and set before themselves an exalted conception
of conjugal duty, and strive, with a full-hearted earnestness, to fulfil
that conception, none would-be so blind or so unjust as to deny.
There are some features in the Indian character to which unstinted praise
is due, and shall be rendered.
He is very hospitable; and (herein nobly conserving his traditions) it
is in no wise uncommon for him to resign the best of the rude comforts he
has, in the way of accommodation, to some belated one, and content himself
with the scantest of those scant comforts, impressing, at the same time,
with his native delicacy, the notion, that he courts, rather than shrinks
from, the almost penitential regime. Though one would naturally think,
that the scorn of material comforts, suggested here, and which many others
of his acts evince, would scarcely breed indolence in the Indian, yet this
is with him an almost unconquerable weakness. It is, indeed, so ingrained
within him, as to resist any attempt, on his own part, to excise it from
his economy; and as to defy extirpating or uprooting process sought to
be enforced by another. The Indian is, in truth, a supremely indolent
being, and testifying to an utter abandonment of himself to the power
of indolence over him, has often been known, when recourse solely to the
chase was permitted him for the filling of his larder, to delay his steps
to the forest, until the gnawing pangs of hunger should drive him there,
as offering him the only plan for their appeasing.
When I have said that the Indian is hospitable, I have said that he is
kind and considerate, for these are involved with the other. He has
much of native delicacy and politeness; and though, from deep-seated
prepossession, he denies the woman equal footing with himself; and,
though through misconception of woman's true purpose and mission in
the world, or through failing to apprehend that higher, greater, more
palpable helpfulness she brings to man (all these, because self-dictated,
self-enforced) he commits to her much of the drudgery, and imposes upon
her many of the heavy burdens, of life, the Indian is not wholly devoid
of chivalric instinct.
He is usually reticent in his manner with strangers, (but this is readily
explained by his imperfect command of English, and his reluctance to
expose his deficiency) though voluble to the last degree when he falls
in with his own people.
The Indian has been lauded and hymned by Longfellow and others as the
hunter _par excellence;_ but, to apply this to his present condition,
and look there for its truth, would be idle. The incitements to indulge
his taste for hunting are now so few, and of such slight potency, and the
opportunities for giving it play so narrowed down, and so rare, that the
pursuit of the chase has become well-nigh obsolete, and something to him
redolent only, as it were, with the breath of the past. As the Indian
is at present circumstanced and environed, he can beat up little or no
game, and his poverty frequently putting out of his reach the procuring
of the needful sporting gear, where he _does_ follow hunting, it
is pursued with much-weakened ardor, and often bootless issue. He is
moved now to its pursuit, solely with the hope of realizing a paltry
gain from the sale of the few prizes he may secure.
Though his reputation as a hunter has so mournfully declined, the Indian
is yet skilled in tracking rabbits, in the winter season, the youth,
particularly, finding this a pleasant diversion. I trust I do not invoke
the hasty ire of the sportsman if, in guilelessness of soul, I call this
hunting. This very circumscribing of the occasions, and inefficacy of
the motive powers, for engaging in hunting, will tend, it is hoped, to
correct the indolent habits that the Indian nurses, and the inveteracy
of which I have just dwelt upon, and emphasized; for it will not,
I think, be denied that his former full-hearted pursuit of the chase
(in submission, largely though it was, to imperious calls of nature), is
responsible, mainly, for the inherence of this unpleasing trait. Though,
of course, hunting in its very nature, enforces a certain activity, it
is an activity, so far as any beneficent impressing of the character is
concerned, void of wholesomeness, and barren of solid, lasting results;
and, viewed in this way, an activity really akin to indolence. With
the craving for hunting subdued, the Indian may take up, with less
distraction, and devote himself, to good advantage, to his farming,
and to industrial callings.
Want of energy and of steadiness of purpose are with the Indian
conspicuous weaknesses, and their bearing upon his farming operations
may be briefly noticed. He will not devote himself to his work in the
fields with that full-intentioned mind to put in an honest day's toil,
that the white man brings to his work, often being beguiled, by some
outside pleasure or amusement, into permitting his day's work to sustain
a break, which he laments afterwards in a melancholy refrain, of farming
operations behind, and domestic matters unhinged, generally. Though the
white has endeavored (and I the more gladly bear my witness to these
attempts at the redemption of the Indian from some of his weaknesses,
since the white has been so freely charged with ministering to his
appetite for drink, and to the evil side of his nature generally)
to infuse these qualities of energy and resolution into the Indian,
my observation has not yet discerned them in him. Though irresolute
himself, the Indian will not tolerate, but is sufficiently warm in his
disapprobation, of any unmanly surrender to weakness or vacillation on
the part of whites set in authority over him.
He imbibes freely (I fear the notion of a certain physiological process
is embraced by some minds, and that these words will be taken as curtly
enunciating the Indian's besetting weakness; but pray be not too eager
to dissever them from what is yet to come, as I protest that I am not
now wishing to revert to this sad failing). He imbibes freely--the
current fashions of the hour amongst whites. If raffling, for instance,
be held in honour as a method for expediting the sale of personal effects,
the Indian will adapt the practice to the disposal of every conceivable
chattel that he desires to get off his hands.