Year: 1870




Driven from his primative hunting
grounds, from the sunny plains and sacred
mountains of his fatherland, he roams the
desert wilds, hard upon the borders where
setting suns quench their light in western
waters. Where the rapid torrent pours
down from rock-girt, snow-crested noun
ta1ns, where scowling tempcsts sweep over
inhospitable plains-where the lions roar
and the panther's scream are among the
familiar sounds that greet the ear, there
the Indian dwells. His rude home is
without trace of refinement or comfort,
his clothing scarce sufficient to protect him,
his hard fare only tolerable by reason of
being accustomed to it, he drags out a mis-
erable existence, scarcely superior to the
brutes among which he dwells. With all
his native powers and inherent virtues,
still he gropes in darkness and woeful ig-
norance, his natural gifts neglected, vast
ed. We deeply deplore the fate that
dooms him to perpetual ignorance and
barbarism, and deprives him of the bless
ings of religion and education. For want
of these he is perfect wreck of what he
might have been. What an aid he might
have been to our armies, our navies and
our general improvements. But in vain
all is lost. No wonder he should excite
so much sympathy. No wonder such eff
forts are being made by charitable socie-
ties to reclaim this erring race of our fel-
low mortals. We wish all success in this
noble and humane enterprise.


But just now we happen to think of
another interesting class having claims up
on our sympathy and aid, not less valid and
urgent than those of the Indian. So much
the more is this true if we consider the
nearness and helplessness of the object as
well as the prospect of immediate and ul-
innate success. We are usually much
more impressed by objects and events near
at hand, than by those more remote. A
calamity abroad isnot so much to be dread
ed as one at home. If, therefore, we are
any way concerned for the redemption of
the savage-and we should be much con-
cerned-we should be much more concern
ed for those infinitely nearer related to us,
to wit: oar oqce children. How many
hundreds of our youth grope in ignorance
as profound as that of the Indian, who, like
the latter, must either


'sHear God in the earthquake,


And see Him in the tempest"


or neither hear nor see him at ALL Where
in, then, is the difference? The Indian is
rude, INDECENT, illiterate. What else can
our untaught youth be? The Indian lives
a more sensual, animal life-what else can
our schoolless children do? The Indian is
stranger to intellectual enJoyment.-
What else can our youth be without the
means Of education? The Indian makes
no improvement, no progress. Neither do
we, and we never will till we establish an
efficient school system. Look at it as you
will, we are on perfect dead 1c0el with
the savage. Yet, we cry $40! the poor
Indianp' Lo! the poor children would
be far more appropriate.


How can aoe relieve the Ignorant, who
ourselves are in ignorance? Why make
hazardous voyages and spend much money
to enlighten the heathen, when thousands,
helpless, in our midst, know not the right
hand from the left? What hope of giving
light to benighted world, while darkness
covers our own land and gross darkness
the people? They will surely say unto us,
Physician, heal thyself." Therefore,
| they shall be our judges, We sink IN com