In such a state of society, civil offices existed scarcely in name, and were never very eagerly sought. That which makes official station desirable is obedience to its authority, and if the title of "captain" gave the idea of more absolute power than that of "sheriff," one would rather command a company of militia than the "_posse comitatus_." Besides, the men of the frontier were simple-hearted and unambitious, desiring nothing so much as to be "left alone," and willing to make a compact of forbearance with the whole world--excepting only the Indians. They had never been accustomed to the restraints of municipal regulations, they were innocent of the unhealthy pleasures of office-holding, or the degrading impulses of office-seeking. Their lives had given them little or no knowledge of these things; experience had never suggested their importance, for their acquaintance with life was, almost exclusively, such as could be acquired in the woods and forest pathways. But as time rolled away, and the population of the country became more dense--as the pressure of external danger was withdrawn, and the necessities of defence grew less urgent--the rigor of military organization came gradually to be somewhat irksome. The seeds of civil institutions began to germinate among the people, while the extending interests of communities required corresponding enactments and regulations. The instincts of social beings, love of home and family, attachment to property, the desire of tranquillity, and, perhaps, a leaven of ambition for good estimation among neighbors, all combined to open men's eyes to the importance of peaceful institutions. The day of the rifle and scalping-knife passed away, and justice without form--the rule of the elementary strong-hand--gave place to order and legal ceremony.