It so happened that a succession of officers, of the description mentioned in the preceding chapter, were to be ordered upon the service which I have been detailing; and whether in New-York or at home, they always attached themselves particularly to this family, who, to the attractions of good breeding, and easy, intelligent conversation, added the power, which they pre-eminently possessed, of smoothing the way for their necessary intercourse with the independent and self-righted settlers, and instructing them in many things essential to promote the success of the pursuits in which they were about to engage. It was one of aunt Schuyler’s many singular merits, that, after acting for a time a distinguished part in this comparatively refined society, where few were so much admired and esteemed, she could return to the homely good sense and primitive manners of her fellow-citizens at Albany, free from fastidiousness and disgust. Few, indeed, without study or design, ever better understood the art of being happy, and making others so. Being gay is another sort of thing; gaiety, as the word is understood in society, is too often assumed, artificial, and produced by such an effort, that, in the midst of laughter, “the heart is indeed sad.” Very different are the smiles that occasionally illume the placid countenance of cheerful tranquillity. They are the emanations of a heart at rest; in the enjoyment of that sunshine of the breast, which is set forever to the restless votaries of mere amusement.

According to the laudable custom of the country, they took home a child, whose mother had died in giving her birth, and whose father was a relation of the colonel’s. This child’s name was either Schuyler or Cuyler, I do not exactly remember which; but I remember her many years after, as Mrs. Vander Poolen—when, as a comely, contented-looking matron, she used to pay her annual visit to her beloved benefactress and send her ample presents of such rural dainties as her abode afforded. I have often heard her warm in her praises; saying, how useful, how modest, and how affectionate she had been—and exulting in her comfortable settlement, and the plain worth, which made her a blessing to her family. From this time to her aunt’s death, above fifty years afterwards, her house was never without one, but much oftener two children, whom this exemplary pair educated with parental care and kindness. And whenever one of their protÉgÉss married out of the house, which was generally at a very early age, she carried with her a female slave, born and baptised in the house, and brought up with a thorough knowledge of her duty, and an habitual attachment to her mistress, besides the usual present of the furniture of a chamber, and a piece of plate, such as a teapot, tankard, or some such useful matter, which was more or less valuable, as the protÉgÉs was more or less beloved; for though aunt Schuyler had great satisfaction from the characters and conduct of all her adopted, there were, no doubt, degrees of merit among them, of which she was better able to judge than if she had been their actual mother.

There was now an interval of peace, which gave these philanthropists more leisure to do good in their own way. They held a threefold band of kindness in their hands, by which they led to the desirable purpose of mutual advantage three very discordant elements, which were daily becoming more difficult to mingle and to rule; and which yet were the more dependent on each other for mutual comfort, from the very causes which tended to disunite them.

In the first place, the Indians began to assume that unfavourable and uncertain aspect, which it is the fate of man to wear in the first steps of his progress from that state where he is a being at once warlike and social, having few wants, and being able, without constant labour or division of ranks, to supply them; where there is no distinction, save that attained by superior strength of mind and body, and where there are no laws, but those dictated by good sense, aided by experience, and enforced by affection, this state of life may be truly called the reign of the affections: the love of kindred and of country, ruling paramount, unrivalled by other passions, all others being made subservient to these. Vanity, indeed, was in some degree flattered, for people wore ornaments, and were at no small pains to make them. Pride existed—but was differently modified from what we see it; every man was proud of the prowess and achievements of his tribe collectively; of his personal virtues he was not proud, because we excel but by comparison; and he rarely saw instances of the opposite vices in his own nation, and looked on others with unqualified contempt.

When any public benefit was to be obtained, or any public danger to be averted, their mutual efforts were all bent to one end; and no one knew what it was to withhold his utmost aid, nor indeed could, in that stage of society, have any motive for doing so. Hence, no mind being contracted by selfish cares, the community were but as one large family, who enjoyed or suffered together. We are accustomed to talk, in parrot phrase, of indolent savages; and, to be sure, in warm climates, and where the state of man is truly savage, that is to say, unsocial, void of virtue, and void of comforts, he is certainly an indolent being: but that individual, in a cold climate, who has tasted the sweets of social life—who knows the wants that arise from it—who provides for his children in their helpless state—and where taste and ingenuity are so much improved, that his person is not only clothed with warm and seemly apparel, but decorated with numerous and not inelegant ornaments, which from the scarcity and simplicity of his tools, he has no ready or easy mode of producing. When he has not only found out all these wants, which he has no means of supplying but by his individual strength, dexterity, and ingenuity, industry must be added, ere they can be all regularly gratified. Very active and industrious, in fact, the Indians were in their original state; and when we take it into consideration, that beside all these occupations, together with their long journeys, wars, and constant huntings and fishing, their leisure was occupied not only by athletic but studious games, at which they played for days together with unheard-of eagerness and perseverance; it will appear they had very little of that lounging time, for which we are so apt to give them credit. Or if a chief, occasionally after fatigue, of which we can form no adequate idea, lay silent in the shade, those frisking Frenchmen, who have given us most details concerning them, were too restless themselves to subdue their skipping spirits to the recollection, that a Mohawk had no study or arm-chair wherein to muse and cogitate; and that his schemes of patriotism, his plans of war, and his eloquent speeches, were all like the meditations of Jacques, formed “under the greenwood tree.” Neither could any man lounge on his sofa, while half a dozen others were employed in shearing the sheep, preparing the wool, weaving and making his coat, or in planting the flax for his future linen, and flaying the ox for his future shoes; were he to do all this himself, he would have little leisure for study or repose. And all this and more the Indian did, under other names and forms; so that idleness, with its gloomy followers, ennui and suicide, were unknown among this truly active people; yet that there is a higher state of society cannot be denied; nor can it be denied that the intermediate state is a painful and enfeebling one.

Man, in a state of nature, is taught by his more civilized brethren a thousand new wants before he learns to supply one. Thence barter takes place; which, in the first stage of progression, is universally fatal to the liberty, the spirit, and the comforts of an uncivilized people.

In the east, where the cradle of our infant nature was appointed, the clime was genial, its productions abundant, and its winters only sufficient to consume the surplus, and give a welcome variety to the seasons. There man was either a shepherd or a hunter, as his disposition led—and that, perhaps, in the same family. The meek spirit of Jacob delighted in tending his father’s flocks; while the more daring and adventurous Esau traced the wilds of Mount Seir, in pursuit both of the fiercer animals who waged war upon the fold, and the more timorous, who administered to the luxury of the table.

The progress of civilization was here gradual and gentle; and the elegant arts seem to have gone hand in hand with the useful ones. For we read of bracelets and ear-rings sent as tokens of love, and images highly valued and coveted, while even agriculture seemed in its infancy.