Notwithstanding this impunity, which in countries under the bonds of law, would be followed by the most dreadful consequences, it is somewhat mortifying to the pride of European civilization to learn, that there reigns a degree of tranquillity greater than the strictest police can preserve with us. The Indians are divided into a number of little nations or tribes, fiercely hostile to each other but whose members are bound among themselves by the strictest union. The honour and welfare of the clan supply their ruling principle, and are cherished with an ardour not surpassed in the most brilliant eras of Greek or Roman patriotism. This national attachment forms a social tie, linking the members to each other, and rendering exceedingly rare, not only deeds of violence, but even personal quarrels; and banishing entirely that coarse and abusive language which is so prevalent among the vulgar in more enlightened communities. This feeling, added to the sentiment of dignity and self-command considered suitable to the character of a warrior, renders their deportment exceedingly pleasing. They are completely free from that false shame which is termed _mauvaise honte_. When seated at table with Europeans of the highest rank, they retain the most thorough self-possession; and at the same time, by carefully observing the proceedings of the other guests, they avoid all awkwardness in their manners. The generosity of the Indian in relieving the necessities of others of the tribe, scarcely knows any bounds, and only stops short of an absolute community of goods. No member of a tribe can be in the least danger of starving, if the rest have wherewithal to supply him. Children rendered orphans by the casualties to which savage life is subject, are immediately taken in charge by the nearest relative, and supplied with every thing needful, as abundantly as if they were his own. Nothing gives them a more unfavourable opinion of the French and English, than to see one portion revelling in abundance while the other suffers the extremity of want; but when they are told that for want of these accommodations, men are seized by their fellow-creatures and immured in dungeons, such a degree of barbarism appears to them almost incredible. Whole tribes, when obliged by the vicissitudes of war to seek refuge among their neighbours, are received with unbounded hospitality; habitations and lands are assigned to them, and they are treated by their new friends, in every respect, as part of themselves. It may, however, be observed, that as such an accession of numbers augments the military strength of the tribe, there may be a mixture of policy in this cordial reception.