The Indian is scrupulously exact in the performance of his engagements, and this the traders know so well, that they feel no apprehension, when, having delivered their goods to their Indian customer, they see him plunge into his trackless wilderness with his purchase, and disappear amid wilds into which no civilized foot could follow him. They know that his first care will be to secure the game whose skin is to assist in the redemption of his promise; and at the stipulated moment he is again seen to emerge from the forest, unconscious even that what we should call an unusual degree of confidence has been reposed in him, and guided only by his own pure and simple conviction, that a promise once given is a sacred thing, and to be redeemed at whatever cost.
Lying and treachery are held in profound abhorrence; we could relate very many facts in support of this assertion, but will confine ourselves to the two following ones only:—A distinguished warrior of the Assinneboins accompanied Major Sanford to Washington in 1832, and being there, became acquainted with the more obvious details of every-day life among the civilized; these he described to his people on his return, and was listened to for some time with respectful attention; but at length the wonders he related surpassing their powers of belief, they decided that he had been taught by the white men to lie, and that in a manner so shameless as to make him a dangerous example to his younger hearers; they then, after much solemn deliberation, concluded that he was unworthy to live, and the unhappy man was put to death accordingly; his protestations of innocence being regarded but as a deeper plunging into crime.
Every thing connected with the dead is held sacred, but the mode of burial differs widely in different tribes. Some place the body dressed and armed with bow, quiver, tomahawk, &c., on the ground between flat stones set edge upwards, and cover it, first with similar stones, and afterwards with earth; others bury at about two feet below the earth. Among the Mandans it was customary (alas for the necessity of that “was”) to lay their dead, well wrapped in skins, on high scaffolds, as practised by the Parsees of Asia. After a sufficient lapse of time, the bones were gathered, and buried with solemn ceremonies, the skulls excepted, which were ranged in a circle within a larger one formed of buffalo skulls, and thither the women belonging to the family of the deceased repair to soothe the departed with songs, to inform him how those he left behind are faring, and to feed him with their choicest dainties, dishes of which they leave behind at their departure.
Mourning for the dead is expressed by certain modes of paint, and among some tribes by cutting off locks of the hair. The sketch that accompanies this paper represents two warriors, and a woman of the Sacs and Foxes, mourning over the tomb of Black Hawk, the celebrated leader of the war known as the Black Hawk War.
A party of Ottawas and the Kansas having been at war, had met “to bury the tomahawk under the roots of the tree of friendship, and sit under its shadow to smoke the pipe of peace, and to hear the birds sing.” Some traders passed through their hunting-grounds, from whom they purchased whisky, and, heated by this, an Ottawa quarrelled with a Kansa; but being reminded by their friends of the lately promised peace, they desisted from all hostility, and both, with the whole party, soon after fell asleep. The Ottawa, awaking first, stabbed his sleeping adversary to the heart, and fled into the forest. When the whole party aroused themselves, they perceived by the arms of the murdered man that he had been taken at advantage, and the brother of the offender, abhorrent of treachery, so foreign to Indian habits, at once declared his intention of pursuing the culprit. Nothing doubting his integrity, the aggrieved Kansas sat silently awaiting his return, which took place two hours after; he had secured and now delivered up the murderer, who was immediately put to death.
Dancing.—Dancing is an amusement which has been discouraged in our country by many of the best people, and not without reason. Dancing is associated in their minds with balls; and this is one of the worst forms of social pleasure. The time consumed in preparation for a ball, the waste of thought upon it, the extravagance of dress, the late hours, the exhaustion of strength, the exposure of health, and the languor of the succeeding day—these, and other evils connected with this amusement, are strong reasons for banishing it from the community. But dancing ought not therefore to be proscribed. On the contrary, balls should be discouraged for this, among other reasons, that dancing, instead of being a rare pleasure, requiring elaborate preparation, may become an every-day amusement, and may mix with our common intercourse. This exercise is among the most healthful. The body, as well as the mind, feels its gladdening influence. No amusement seems more to have a foundation in our nature. The animation of youth naturally overflows in harmonious movements. The true idea of dancing entitles it to favour. Its end is to realise perfect grace in motion; and who does not know that a sense of the graceful is one of the higher faculties of our nature? It is to be desired that dancing should become too common among us to be made the object of special preparation, as in the ball; that members of the same family, when confined by unfavourable weather, should recur to it for exercise and exhilaration; that branches of the same family should enliven in this way their occasional meetings; that it should fill up an hour in all the assemblages for relaxation, in which the young form a part. It is to be desired that this accomplishment should be extended to the labouring classes of society, not only as an innocent pleasure, but as a means of improving the manners. Why shall not gracefulness be spread through the whole community? From the French nation we learn that a degree of grace and refinement of manners may pervade all classes. The philanthropist and Christian must desire to break down the partition walls between human beings in different conditions: and one means of doing this is to remove the conscious awkwardness which confinement to laborious occupations is apt to induce. An accomplishment, giving free and graceful movement, though a far weaker bond than intellectual or moral culture, still does something to bring those who partake it near each other.—Dr Channing’s Address on Temperance.
SEAL OF WILLIAM, BISHOP OF KILDARE.
The prefixed woodcut represents an impression from the seal of one of the bishops of Kildare anterior to the Reformation, the matrix of which is in the possession of a gentleman in Dublin.