The present condition and future prospects of the remnants of the
aboriginal inhabitants of this continent can scarcely be a matter of
indifference to any class of the people of the United States. Apart from
all considerations of justice and duty, a purely selfish regard to our
own well-being would compel attention to the subject. The irreversible
laws of God's moral government, and the well-attested maxims of political
and social economy, leave us in no doubt that the suffering, neglect, and
wrong of one part of the community must affect all others. A common
responsibility rests upon each and all to relieve suffering, enlighten
ignorance, and redress wrong, and the penalty of neglect in this respect
no nation has ever escaped.
It is only within a comparatively recent period that the term Indian
Civilization could be appropriately used in this country. Very little
real progress bad been made in this direction, up to the time when
Commissioner Lang in 1844 visited the tribes now most advanced. So
little had been done, that public opinion had acquiesced in the
assumption that the Indians were not susceptible of civilization and
progress. The few experiments had not been calculated to assure a
superficial observer.
The unsupported efforts of Elliot in New England were counteracted by the
imprisonment, and in some instances the massacre of his "praying
Indians," by white men under the exasperation of war with hostile tribes.
The salutary influence of the Moravians and Friends in Pennsylvania was
greatly weakened by the dreadful massacre of the unarmed and blameless
converts of Gnadenhutten. But since the first visit of Commissioner
Lang, thirty-three years ago, the progress of education, civilization,
and conversion to Christianity, has been of a most encouraging nature,
and if Indian civilization was ever a doubtful problem, it has been
practically solved.
The nomadic habits and warlike propensities of the native tribes are
indeed formidable but not insuperable difficulties in the way of their
elevation. The wildest of them may compare not unfavorably with those
Northern barbarian hordes that swooped down upon Christian Europe, and
who were so soon the docile pupils and proselytes of the peoples they had
conquered. The Arapahoes and Camanches of our day are no further removed
from the sweetness and light of Christian culture than were the
Scandinavian Sea Kings of the middle centuries, whose gods were patrons
of rapine and cruelty, their heaven a vast, cloud-built ale-house, where
ghostly warriors drank from the skulls of their victims, and whose hell
was a frozen horror of desolation and darkness, to be avoided only by
diligence in robbery and courage in murder. The descendants of these
human butchers are now among the best exponents of the humanizing
influence of the gospel of Christ. The report of the Superintendent of
the remnants of the once fierce and warlike Six Nations, now peaceable
and prosperous in Canada, shows that the Indian is not inferior to the
Norse ancestors of the Danes and Norwegians of our day in capability of
improvement.
It is scarcely necessary to say, what is universally conceded, that the
wars waged by the Indians against the whites have, in nearly every
instance, been provoked by violations of solemn treaties and systematic
disregard of their rights of person, property, and life. The letter of
Bishop Whipple, of Minnesota, to the New York Tribune of second month,
1877, calls attention to the emphatic language of Generals Sherman,
Harney, Terry, and Augur, written after a full and searching
investigation of the subject: "That the Indian goes to war is not
astonishing: he is often compelled to do so: wrongs are borne by him in
silence, which never fail to drive civilized men to deeds of violence.
The best possible way to avoid war is to do no injustice."
It is not difficult to understand the feelings of the unfortunate pioneer
settlers on the extreme borders of civilization, upon whom the blind
vengeance of the wronged and hunted Indians falls oftener than upon the
real wrong-doers. They point to terrible and revolting cruelties as
proof that nothing short of the absolute extermination of the race can
prevent their repetition. But a moment's consideration compels us to
admit that atrocious cruelty is not peculiar to the red man. "All wars
are cruel," said General Sherman, and for eighteen centuries Christendom
has been a great battle-field. What Indian raid has been more dreadful
than the sack of Magdeburg, the massacre of Glencoe, the nameless
atrocities of the Duke of Alva in the Netherlands, the murders of St.
Bartholomew's day, the unspeakable agonies of the South of France under
the demoniac rule of revolution! All history, black with crime and red
with blood, is but an awful commentary upon "man's inhumanity to man,"
and it teaches us that there is nothing exceptional in the Indian's
ferocity and vindictiveness, and that the alleged reasons for his
extermination would, at one time or another, have applied with equal
force to the whole family of man.
A late lecture of my friend, Stanley Pumphrey, comprises more of valuable
information and pertinent suggestions on the Indian question than I have
found in any equal space; and I am glad of the opportunity to add to it
my hearty endorsement, and to express the conviction that its general
circulation could not fail to awaken a deeper and more kindly interest in
the condition of the red man, and greatly aid in leading the public mind
to a fuller appreciation of the responsibility which rests upon us as a
people to rectify, as far as possible, past abuses, and in our future
relations to the native owners of the soil to "deal justly and love
mercy."
