Here, for the present, we take our leave of the negro, and turn our attention more directly to that loftier shoot of humanity, who, for a name, applicable alike to the whole of a general division—to the blue-eyed Teuton as well as to the black-eyed Arab—we have (in obedience to the classification of others) called the Caucasian. He is a native of Western Asia, Northern Africa, and of the whole of Europe, and, within these limits, flourishes to a native fullness, and multiplies with a profusion which is now forcing his children out upon all the world. But the problem of his like success in other localities yet remains to be solved. Will he multiply and continue, on this continent, as he multiplies and continues on his own? The Aztecs are already gone. The builders of our ancient American monuments (supposed to have been of our own race) unknown—gone probably through a decline, from causes which may still be cropping out. But the Caucasian is here master, as he is wherever else he moves upon the world. But he is not here actually native, for nature did not here place him at first. Why this exclusion, we may never know; or why the red-man of the forest was assigned to the continent long hid in the western seas. But if it be held that all men sprung from a common _progenitor_, and that countries and climates have divided them into races or species, why, then, are we not now in a transition from the Caucasian to the Indian? But as no such tendency is apparent, and our sphere of action is limited to things, not as they were, or as they may have been, but to that form in which we now actually find them, we need not linger on probabilities so remote and indefinable. Ours is the present time, and elements ours only as they exist. But whatever may be the operating influences of our continent, no one can help seeing that the Caucasian in America is undergoing a change. Where it will ultimate, time only can determine, but social conditions have already varied its course. The combination of white master and negro slave has given it one direction, while general individuality has given it another. The French Celt of Lower Canada—now about a million in his individual numbers—has already, at the end of two centuries of American life, dwindled into a pigmy compared with his European progenitors, and the same is correspondingly true of the Castilian of Peru and Mexico. Do these facts determine, or rather, do they not throw shadows, on the ultimate of that experiment now in the full tide of its progress—the replanting of one continent with a people who are alone indigenous to another?