Dick Varley was almost wild with delight. It was his first excursion
into the remote wilderness; he was young, healthy, strong, and
romantic; and it is a question whether his or his dog's heart, or that
of the noble wild horse he bestrode, bounded most with joy at
the glorious sights and sounds and influences by which they were
surrounded. It would have been perfection, had it not been for the
frequent annoyance and alarms caused by the Indians.
Alas! alas! that we who write and read about those wondrous scenes
should have to condemn our own species as the most degraded of all the
works of the Creator there! Yet so it is. Man, exercising his reason
and conscience in the path of love and duty which his Creator points
out, is God's noblest work; but man, left to the freedom of his own
fallen will, sinks morally lower than the beasts that perish. Well
may every Christian wish and pray that the name and the gospel of the
blessed Jesus may be sent speedily to the dark places of the earth;
for you may read of, and talk about, but you _cannot conceive_ the
fiendish wickedness and cruelty which causes tearless eyes to glare,
and maddened hearts to burst, in the lands of the heathen.
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