Hence arises the notion, which has been entertained ever since
the birth of reflection and logical discourse in the world, and
which in some faint and confused degree exists probably even
among savages, that the body is the prison of the mind. It is in
this sense that Waller, after completing fourscore years of age,
expresses himself in these affecting and interesting couplets.

When we for age could neither read nor write,
The subject made us able to indite.
The soul's dark cottage, battered and decayed,
Lets in new light by chinks that time hath made:
Stronger by weakness, wiser, men become,
As they draw near to their eternal home.

Thus it is common with persons of elevated soul to talk of
neglecting, overlooking, and taking small account of the body.
It is in this spirit that the story is recorded of Anaxarchus,
who, we are told, was ordered by Nicocreon, tyrant of Salamis, to
be pounded in a mortar, and who, in contempt of his mortal
sufferings, exclaimed, "Beat on, tyrant! thou dost but strike
upon the case of Anaxarchus; thou canst not touch the man
himself." And it is in something of the same light that we must
regard what is related of the North American savages. Beings,
who scoff at their tortures, must have an idea of something that
lies beyond the reach of their assailants.

It is just however to observe, that some of the particulars here
related, belong not less to the brute creation than to man. If
men are imperfectly acquainted with their external figure and
appearance, this may well be conceived to be still more