Such, to me, are the stories I have cited above.  And even European sketches of this greatness, distant and imperfect though they be, yet convey the truth, if made in a sympathizing spirit.  Adair’s Red Shoes, Murray’s old man, Catlin’s noble Mandan chief, Henry’s Wa-wa-tam, with what we know of Philip, Pontiac, Tecumseh and Red Jacket, would suffice to give the ages a glimpse at what was great in Indian life and Indian character.

We hope, too, there will be a national institute, containing all the remains of the Indians,—­all that has been preserved by official intercourse at Washington, Catlin’s collection, and a picture gallery as complete as can be made, with a collection of skulls from all parts of the country.  To this should be joined the scanty library that exists on the subject.

I have not mentioned Mackenzie’s Travels.  He is an accurate observer, but sparing in his records, because his attention was wholly bent on his own objects.  This circumstance gives a heroic charm to his scanty and simple narrative.  Let what will happen, or who will go back, he cannot; he must find the sea, along those frozen rivers, through those starving countries, among tribes of stinted men, whose habitual interjection was “edui, it is hard, uttered in a querulous tone,” distrusted by his followers, deserted by his guides, on, on he goes, till he sees the sea, cold, lowering, its strand bristling with foes; but he does see it.

His few observations, especially on the tribes who lived on fish, and held them in such superstitious observance, give a lively notion of the scene.

A little pamphlet has lately been published, giving an account of the massacre at Chicago, which I wish much I had seen while there, as it would have imparted an interest to spots otherwise barren.  It is written with animation, and in an excellent style, telling just what we want to hear, and no more.  The traits given of Indian generosity are as characteristic as those of Indian cruelty.  A lady, who was saved by a friendly chief holding her under the waters of the lake, while the balls were whizzing around, received also, in the heat of the conflict, a reviving draught from a squaw, who saw she was exhausted; and, as she lay down, a mat was hung up between her and the scene of butchery, so that she was protected from the sight, though she could not be from sounds, full of horror.

I have not wished to write sentimentally about the Indians, however moved by the thought of their wrongs and speedy extinction.  I know that the Europeans who took possession of this country, felt themselves justified by their superior civilization and religious ideas.  Had they been truly civilized or Christianized, the conflicts which sprang from the collision of the two races, might have been avoided; but this cannot be expected in movements made by masses of men.  The mass has never yet been humanized, though the age may develop a human thought.