Mr. Flint, an experienced and intelligent observer, takes so dark a view of the moral character of the Red Indian that his favorable opinion of their mental faculties may be looked upon as probably accurate, though differing strongly from that more generally held. On the other side of the question, among the early writers may be cited M. Bouguer, _Voyage au Perou_, p. 102; _Voyage d'Ulloa_, tom. i., p. 335-337. "They seem to live in a perpetual infancy," is the striking expression of De la Condamine, _Voyage de la Riv. Amazon_, p. 52, 53. Chauvelon, _Voyage a la Martinique_, p. 44, 50. P. Venegas, _Hist. de la Californie_.] [Footnote 244: All those who have expressed an opinion on the subject seem to agree that _children_ of most native races are fully, or more than a match, for those of Europeans, in aptitude for intellectual acquirement. Indeed, it appears to be a singular law of Nature, that there is less precocity in the European race than almost any other. In those races in which we seem to have reason for believing that the intellectual organization is lower, perception is quicker, and maturity earlier.--Merivale _On Colonization_, vol. ii., p. 197.] [Footnote 245: "Thus, on the whole, it may be said that the virtues of the savages are reducible to intrepid courage in danger, unshaken firmness amid tortures, contempt of pain and death, and patience under all the anxieties and distresses of life. No doubt these are useful qualities, but they are all confined to the individual, all selfish, and without any benefit to the society. Farther, they are proofs of a life truly wretched, and a social state so depraved or null, that a man, neither finding nor hoping any succor or assistance from it, is obliged to wrap himself up in despair, and endeavor to harden himself against the strokes of fate. Still it may be urged that these men, in their leisure hours, laugh, sing, play, and live without care for the past as well as for the future. Will you then deny that they are happier than we? Man is such a pitiable and variable creature, and habits have such a potent sway over him, that in the most disastrous situations he always finds some posture that gives him ease, something that consoles him, and, by comparison with past suffering, appears to him well-being and happiness; but if to laugh, sing, or play constitute bliss, it must likewise be granted that soldiers are perfectly happy beings, since there are no men more careless or more gay in dangers or on the eve of battle. It must be granted, too, that during the Revolution, in the most fatal of our jails, the Conciergerie, the prisoners were very happy, since they were, in general, more careless and gay than their keepers, or than those who only feared the same fate. The anxieties of those who were at large were as numerous as the enjoyments they wished to preserve; they who were in the other prisons felt but one, that of preserving their lives. In the Conciergerie, where a man was condemned