minds are stimulated by these suggestions to explore and minutely examine what we have here but vaguely pointed out.

In conclusion, we cannot do better than transcribe the following passage from Diez, which in general terms expresses the same view which we have taken of this subject, and coincides with those taken by Cantù. Speaking of the Romance languages, he says:

"They all have their primary and principal source in the Latin, but they are derived not from the Latin employed in literature, but, as has often been justly argued, from the Roman popular speech, which was used continually with classical Latin. Attempts have been made to prove the existence of such a popular dialect by the testimony of the ancients; but its existence is a fact so little needing proof that we should rather be justified in requiring evidence to the contrary as an exception to the general rule. We must, however, be careful not to understand by the term popular speech anything more than is implied by it in other cases; that is, the vulgar vernacular dialect of one and the same language, which consists in a negligent pronunciation of words, in an inclination to the resolution of grammatical forms, in the use of numerous expressions avoided by writers, and in special phrases and constructions. These and no other conclusions are warranted by the testimony and the specimens gathered from the works of ancient authors; at most we can only admit that the contrast between the dialect of popular discourse and that of literature on the complete congelation of this latter, a little before the downfall of the Western Empire, manifested itself more conspicuously. If, then, the existence of a popular dialect-that is, of a vulgar form of speech-is upon general grounds certain, the derivation of the Romance dialects from this popular speech is not less certain, inasmuch as the written language, resting altogether on the past, and cultivated only by the higher classes and by writers, admitted of no new development or production, while the much more flexible vulgar tongue contained the germ and the susceptibility of a development imposed by time. When, at a later period, in consequence of that great event, the German conquest, the ancient culture perished with the higher classes, the pure Latin died of itself. The popular dialect pursued its course the more rapidly, and became at last the fountain from which the Romance languages flowed, though in a form widely different from the original."*

"Grammatik der Romanischen Sprachen," vol. i., pp. 3, 4.
W. W. STORY.

VII.

AN INDIAN'S VIEWS OF INDIAN AFFAIRS.

INTRODUCTION.

I WISH that I had words at command in which to express adequately the interest with which I have read the extraordinary narrative which follows, and which I have the privilege of introducing to the readers of this "Review." I feel, however, that this apologia is so boldly marked by the charming naïveté and tender pathos which characterize the red-man, that it needs no introduction, much less any authentication; while in its smothered fire, in its deep sense of eternal righteousness and of present evil, and in its hopeful longings for the coming of a better time, this Indian chief's appeal reminds us of one of the old Hebrew prophets of the days of the captivity.

I have no special knowledge of the history of the Nez Percés, the Indians whose tale of sorrow Chief Joseph so pathetically tellsmy Indian missions lying in a part at the West quite distant from their old home-and am not competent to judge their case upon its merits. The chief's narrative is, of course, ex parte, and many of his statements would no doubt be ardently disputed. General Howard, for instance, can hardly receive justice at his hands, so well known is he for his friendship to the Indian and for his distinguished success in pacifying some of the most desperate.

It should be remembered, too, in justice to the army, that it is rarely called upon to interfere in Indian affairs until the relations between the Indians and the whites have reached a desperate condition, and when the situation of affairs has become so involved and feeling on both sides runs so high that perhaps only more than human forbearance would attempt to solve the difficulty by disentangling the knot and not by cutting it.

Nevertheless, the chief's narrative is marked by so much can

dor, and so careful is he to qualify his statements, when qualification seems necessary, that every reader will give him credit for speaking his honest, even should they be thought by some to be mistaken, convictions. The chief, in his treatment of his defense, reminds one of those lawyers of whom we have heard that their splendid success was gained, not by disputation, but simply by their lucid and straightforward statement of their case. That he is something of a strategist as well as an advocate appears from this description of an event which occurred shortly after the breaking out of hostilities: "We crossed over Salmon River, hoping General Howard would follow. We were not disappointed. He did follow us, and we got between him and his supplies, and cut him off for three days." Occasionally the reader comes upon touches of those sentiments and feelings which at once establish a sense of kinship between all who possess them. Witness his description of his desperate attempt to rejoin his wife and children when a sudden dash of General Miles's soldiers had cut the Indian camp in two: "About seventy men, myself among them, were cut off. ... I thought of my wife and children, who were now surrounded by soldiers, and I resolved to go to them. With a prayer in my mouth to the Great Spirit Chief who rules above, I dashed unarmed through the line of soldiers. . . . My clothes were cut to pieces, my horse was wounded, but I was not hurt." And again, when he speaks of his father's death: "I saw he was dying. I took his hand in mine. He said: 'My son, my body is returning to my mother Earth, and my spirit is going very soon to see the Great Spirit Chief. . . A few more years and the white men will be all around you. They have their eyes on this land. My son, never forget my dying words. This country holds your father's body-never sell the bones of your father and your mother.' I pressed my father's hand, and told him I would protect his grave with my life. My father smiled, and passed away to the spirit-land. I buried him in that beautiful valley of Winding Waters. I love that land more than all the rest of the world. A man who would not love his father's grave is worse than a wild animal."

...

His appeals to the natural rights of man are surprisingly fine, and, however some may despise them as the utterances of an Indian, they are just those which, in our Declaration of Independence, have been most admired. "We are all sprung from a woman," he says, "although we are unlike in many things. You are as you were made, and, as you were made, you can remain.

We are just as we were made by the Great Spirit, and you can not change us then, why should children of one mother quarrel? Why should one try to cheat another? I do not believe that the Great Spirit Chief gave one kind of men the right to tell another kind of men what they must do."

But I will not detain the readers of the "Review" from the pleasure of perusing for themselves Chief Joseph's statement longer than is necessary to express the hope that those who have time for no more will at least read its closing paragraph, and to remark that the narrative brings clearly out these facts which ought to be regarded as well-recognized principles in dealing with the red-man :

1. The folly of any mode of treatment of the Indian which is not based upon a cordial and operative acknowledgment of his rights as our fellow man.

2. The danger of riding rough-shod over a people who are capable of high enthusiasm, who know and value their national rights, and are brave enough to defend them.

3. The liability to want of harmony between different departments and different officials of our complex Government, from which it results that, while many promises are made to the Indians, few of them are kept. It is a home-thrust when Chief Joseph says: "The white people have too many chiefs. They do not understand each other. . . . I can not understand how the Government sends a man out to fight us, as it did General Miles, and then break his word. Such a Government has something wrong about it."

4. The unwisdom, in most cases in dealing with Indians, of what may be termed military short-cuts, instead of patient discussion, explanations, persuasion, and reasonable concessions.

5. The absence in an Indian tribe of any truly representative body competent to make a treaty which shall be binding upon all the bands. The failure to recognize this fact has been the source of endless difficulties. Chief Joseph, in this case, did not consider a treaty binding which his band had not agreed to, no matter how many other bands had signed it; and so it has been in many other

cases.

6. Indian chiefs, however able and influential, are really without power, and for this reason, as well as others, the Indians, when by the march of events they are brought into intimate relations with the whites, should at the earliest practicable moment be given the support and protection of our Government and of our law; not

local law, however, which is apt to be the result of special legislation, adopted solely in the interest of the stronger race.

WILLIAM H. HARE, Missionary Bishop of Niobrara.

My friends, I have been asked to show you my heart. I am glad to have a chance to do so. I want the white people to understand my people. Some of you think an Indian is like a wild animal. This is a great mistake. I will tell you all about our people, and then you can judge whether an Indian is a man or not. I believe much trouble and blood would be saved if we opened our hearts more. I will tell you in my way how the Indian sees things. The white man has more words to tell you how they look to him, but it does not require many words to speak the truth. What I have to say will come from my heart, and I will speak with a straight tongue. Ah-cum-kin-i-ma-me-hut (the Great Spirit) is looking at me, and will hear me.

My name is In-mut-too-yah-lat-lat (Thunder traveling over the Mountains). I am chief of the Wal-lam-wat-kin band of Chutepa-lu, or Nez Percés (nose-pierced Indians). I was born in eastern Oregon, thirty-eight winters ago. My father was chief before me. When a young man, he was called Joseph by Mr. Spaulding, a missionary. He died a few years ago. There was no stain on his hands of the blood of a white man. He left a good name on the earth. He advised me well for my people.

Our fathers gave us many laws, which they had learned from their fathers. These laws were good. They told us to treat all men as they treated us; that we should never be the first to break a bargain; that it was a disgrace to tell a lie; that we should speak only the truth; that it was a shame for one man to take from another his wife, or his property without paying for it. We were taught to believe that the Great Spirit sees and hears everything, and that he never forgets; that hereafter he will give every man a spirit-home according to his deserts: if he has been a good man, he will have a good home; if he has been a bad man, he will have a bad home. This I believe, and all my people believe the same.

We did not know there were other people besides the Indian until about one hundred winters ago, when some men with white faces came to our country. They brought many things with them to trade for furs and skins. They brought tobacco, which was new to us. They brought guns with flint stones on them, which fright