The American Indian shuns the cultivated field and populous city, and clings to his native forest. There, though his fare be humble, all the other wants of his nature are best supplied. Thus do his instincts act to their end. He finds a restraint in civilization which drives him to the forest, as heat drives the whale and the walrus to polar seas. This instinct is the opposite of the Caucasian’s, and, as a consequence, points to a specific line. It is fundamental in nature, and there must forever remain. Could it be overcome, the vast tribes who once occupied our country would not now be numbered with the past, but would be with us still in the character of civilized men. Instincts mark the specific divisions with unerring certainty, but mentalities are equally patent to the observing mind. The Indian’s instinct contents him with his wigwam, but look to the outshoots of his mentality, and you will find the division between him and the Caucasian equally marked and legible. His man-of-war is a bark canoe; his artillery, a bow and arrow; and his capitol of state, the limbs of the forest which overhang the smoldering fire around which his chiefs assemble in council. What but an inferiority of mentality, coupled with a peculiarity of instinct, divides him thus from the loftier outshoots of the Caucasian mind? And as the division is fundamental, why is it not specific? The Malay alone runs a muck. Why does he do so, if there be not implanted in his nature a latent madness which belongs to no other division of man? And as it so exists as a peculiarity, does it not mark a specific division as effectually as does the scent of one hound divide him from the sighting proclivities of another? But let us not linger in discussion on either the Indian or Malay nature; but, in the emergency of time, turn to that division of man, which, with reference to your long and unceasing disquisitions, has been termed, and by no means inappropriately, the “Eternal Negro.” He is the opposite of the white man in color, and, as we shall presently see, alike so in instinct and turn of mind. He also differs from the Indian, for, unlike him, he does not seek an exclusive independence, but inclines to the presence of his opposite race—the white man. He seeks it by choice, and wheresoever found with it, no matter what may be his condition before the law, equal or unequal, he will be found menial and of secondary rank. He will brush his hair, groom his horse, wait on his stables, dust his coat, and black his boots, and when held as a slave, will value himself, not by his own, but by his master’s worth. Why is this so, if nature does not give the disposition?