The Sun.
London, England, 1854-01-12 00:00:00

One of the essayists of the last century gives the jour-
nal of a citizen who, wearied with the selfishness, deceit,
politeness, and frauds of metropolitan life, resolved to
seek simplicity and peace in some rural retreat. The
result was unfortunate. He met with rudeness from the
clodhoppers ; he bought a horse, and was cheated ; he
asked the road, and was solicited for something to drink ;
he refused, and was misled ; his pantry was invaded by
enemies within, and his hencoop by enemies without ;
he was overcharged by his landlady ; he asked shelter
from the rain, and was inhospitably received. Every-
where he found that London and the country were
only two different versions of the same human nature,
whatever poets or philosophers might have written
to the contrary. Much the same disappointment will
follow the perusal of Captain Maguire's narrative, which
we published the other day, describing his dealings with
the Esquimaux at Point Barrow. Here, if anywhere,
virtue was to be found in its poorest, purest, coldest,
and simplest state. With the thermometer only occa-
sionally above zero, there could not be the same excuse
for the dagger as in Mexico or New Orleans. With
nothing to call property, except dogs, blubber, and skins,
there was little temptation to be dishonest ; and on the
shore of the frozen sea, in latitude 70 or thereabouts, and
no knowledge of the rest of the world, except what could
be got from vessels searching for Franklin, the simplicity
of a savage might at least be expected. But in this
remote, dreary, poverty-struck corner of the earth the
natives were found as selfish, malicious, frauduleit,
cunning, and sneaking as the worst rogues of this very
bad city. By the test of our police-courts, nearly every
soul among them, chiefs and all, deserved three months'
imprisonment or a month's turn at the treadmill. Whole
tribes appear to have been parties to the pettiest pilfer-
ing and purloining. The public opinion of the mass and
the dignity of the sovereign lord were equally compro-
mised fur the sake of bits of sailcloth and the worthless
odds and ends to be picked up on deck. The curiosity
which might be supposed the sole attraction that drew
hundreds together to the ship, and kept them a whole
day on its decks, like a swarm of flies, to the serious
annoyance of the small crew, soon gave way to a
covetous hankering after whatever came within
the reach of the fingers or the edge of the knife.
The sailors were rudely handled for the sake of their
buttons, which somehow or other disappeared in their
furtive embrace, and a huge, ill-tempered fellow of a
chief, who chanced to hare a gun, when once in the ship
could hardly be got out of it, but prowled about as long
as he could, in the hope of either a general sack, which
would certainly have ended in a massacre of the crew,
or some petty theft. Eventually, the intrusive savages
were compelled to keep their distance and restore the
stolen property by the terror of bullets whizzing over
their heads, and at length were brought to something
like decency and order.
By the side of these savages see the civilised man.
The captain and crew had to secure their lives and their
property against fearful odds of savages, whom they
nevertheless felt it their duty to receive and enter-
tain with the utmost possible freedom. Any measure
of defence, and any act of violence, would have
been easy enough ; their only difficulty was to be
obliging, kind, and instructive, with personal safety.
They had to appear as the missionaries of civilisation, to
invite free intercourse, to show all the curiosities of a
fabric which was as a fairy palace to the eyes of their
visitors, to acquire information of the country, and of
such other ships as had appeared on those shores, to
traffic both in commodities and in ideas—all the time
dealing with a race of pilferers, whose knives were al-
ways ready, either to detach their booty or to threaten
the owner. This was a task peculiarly requiring the
disciplined temper and manners of. British officers and
sailors, and they were tried in every possible form. If
the sailors were sent out to erect a tent on shore, or on
any other errand, they were beset and threatened. The
wood stacked on the ice was pilfered, and then set on
fire. Admitted on deck, the rude savages would penetrate
to every part of the vessel, in defiance of restrictions, and,.
once on board, could not be got rid of. The argument
of force was all that they could understand, and that had
to be used as sparingly as possible. But here came the
triumph of civilization and order : the largest mob was
got peaceably out of the ship, and the big chief, with
his gun, which he knew perfectly how to use, was bowed
out without so much as the show of weapons. The
whole tribe, or rather several tribes, were allowed to
visit the ship a boatfull at a time ; they were compelled
to restore all the articles stolen; some pieces of sailcloth
that had been pilfered with the cognisance of all the na-
tives, and extensively divided, were restored after much
delay and palaver, necessary, as it afterwards appeared,
to give time for " fine-drawing" the pieces to their ori-
ginal form ; free and peaceful intercourse *as subse-
quently established ; a chief was visited in his icy hut,
and a picturesque Esquimaux interior described ; infor-
mation was obtained, showing the traces of former dis-
coverers, and the visit which had begun so disagreeably,
and which in ordinary hands might have ended in the
massacre of one side or the other, left nothing to be de-
sired for any good that could be expected from a meet-
ing between the extremes of civilization.
This is very creditable to civilization, so much abused,
and so often set down as a vicious development of human
nature. The state of nature, after all, is not that pure,
simple thing, described by rernancers, nor, on the
other hand, is the British Navy a school for the
indulgence of the worst passions. Why, Captain
Maguire, his stout officers, his quiet, but rather
short-tempered quartermaster, and all the rest of his
crew, were angels of light and truth, compared with
these prowling, sneaking, treacherous, pilfering, mis-
chievous wretches. But is it not also some comfort
to us to find that Cape Barrow is quite as prolific in
crime, whether juvenile or adult, male or female, as this
much-maligned metropolis ? Lord Shaftesbury and Sir
John Pakington would find just as much employment
for their philanthropy in these regions of eternal ice and
snow as in London or Birmingham. It is not being
exposed to extraordinary temptations, or special facilities
for crime, or particularly bad parents, or no parents, or
life in the streets, or non-model lodginghouses, or half a
life spent in gaol or penny theatres, or bad newspapers
and books, or anything peculiar to great cities, that
makes an incorrigible rogue. The weed will grow up
anywhere, and needs not even sun or soil. Wherever
man is, there is the material for the cowardly mis-
chievous villain—nay, more, for a generally debased
state of society. Perhaps we should also draw the not
very satisfactory lesson that we must never expect to
eradicate crime, and to reform beyond the need of
further improvement. The perpetual argument for new
schemes is, that matters are worse now than they ever
were. We wish we could believe London a more vir-
tuous city than it was ten years ago, but we cannot ;
for we really believe every one of the ten commandments
to be violated just as recklessly and extensively now as
it was in 1844. But how are we to expect any palpable
and demonstrable improvement? We have not much
reason to expect it. It is in the people, not in institu-
tions. It is in the Londoner as it is in the Esquimaux,
and our civilisation, instead of vitiating and degrading
us, has really been,the great reformer. But for it we
should be naked Picts or Britons,--animals, in their
time, we will venture to say, not very unlike Captain
Maguire's Esquimaux.