These facts prove, that whatever may be the accidental indolence of the Indian tribes, they do not labour under any physical defect essential to them as men, and not peculiar to the natives of other climes. The fine gentleman of Europe, who has been nursed in the lap of luxury and refinement, would, if compelled to labour, exhibit as great a want of physical strength as the Indian of America. The difference in this respect between the Aborigines of the Western world, and the inhabitants of more civilized regions, is purely accidental. Reared within the pale of a civilized community, and surrounded with innumerable objects adapted to awaken thought, stimulate curiosity, and call his mental and bodily powers into exertion, the European feels a variety of wants, and is subject to a variety of influences to which the savage is a stranger. Experience gives him foresight and wisdom, and induces him to act with a view to remote advantage, as well as to present gratification. The numerous casualties and reverses of fortune which happen to individuals in civilised society, teach him to be provident for the future. The simple necessities of nature, as well as the more numerous class of wants which follow in the train of civilization, stimulate him to engage in long courses of action by which his mental faculties are enlarged, his bodily strength disciplined, and his power of persevering increased. But with the Indian of America the case is in many respects reversed. His food and drink are in most cases obtained with little trouble, and his natural wants, which are few, are easily satisfied. The flesh of the wild animals he ensnares or kills in the chase, the roots of native plants and vegetables, and a small proportion of maize or Indian corn, along with fruits and other things obtained with as little art, serve him for food; the skins of beasts for clothing; and a week-wam, constructed with a small amount of skill and labour, affords him shelter from the inclemency of the weather. Surrounded with abundance of hunting territory, wherein the (to him) staple commodities of life are plentiful, he is satisfied, and lives in a state of comparative independence. Believing that his own lot is the happiest, and accustomed to roam the forest from his infancy, he feels not the force of those powerful motives which affect the bosoms of other men. The love of gain is in his case modified by the extent of his information respecting it; and as the commodities, which to him are articles of wealth, are easily procured, he consequently becomes indolent when surrounded by abundance.