The Indian compounded words, are generally pretty long; but those that are radical, or simple, are mostly short: very few, if any of them, exceed three or four syllables. And, as their dialects are guttural, every word contains some consonants; and these are the essential characteristics of language. Where they deviate from this rule, it is by religious emblems; which obviously proceeds from the great regard they paid to the names of the Deity; especially, to the four-lettered, divine, essential name, by using the letters it contains, and the vowels it was originally pronounced with, to convey a virtuous idea; or, by doubling, or transposing them, to signify the contrary. In this they all agree. And, as this general custom must proceed from one primary cause, it seems to assure us, they were not in a {68} savage state, when they first separated, and variegated their dialects, with so much religious care, and exact art. Blind chance could not direct so great a number of remote and warring savage nations to fix on, and unite in so nice a religious standard of speech. Vowels are inexpressive of things, they only typify them; as _Oo-E-A_, “to ascend, or remove:”—_O E A_, a most sacred affirmation of the truth. Similar to these are many words, containing only one consonant: as _To-e-u_, “it is very true;” _O-se-u_, “very good;” _Y-O-U_, “evil, or very bad;” _Y-â-a_, “he moves by the divine bounty;” _Nan-ne Y-a_, “the divine hill, or the mount of God,” &c. If language was not originally a divine gift, which some of our very curious modern philosophers deny, and have taken great pains to set aside; yet human beings are possessed of the faculties of thinking and speaking, and, in proportion to their ideas, they easily invented, and learned words mixed with consonants and vowels, to express them. Natural laws are common and general. The situation of the Indian Americans, has probably been the means of sinking them into that state of barbarism we now behold—Yet, though in great measure they may have lost their primitive language, not one of them expresses himself by the natural cries of brute-animals, any farther than to describe some of the animals by the cries they make; which we ourselves sometimes imitate, as _Choo-qua-lê-qua-lôô_, the name they give that merry night-singing bird, which we call “Whip her will my poor wife,” (much like our cuckoo) so termed from its musical monotony. No language is exempt from the like simple copyings. The nervous, polite, and copious Greek tongue had the loud-sounding _Böô Böao_, which the Romans imitated, by their bellowing _Boves Böum_; and the Indians say _Pa-a_, signifying the loud noise of every kind of animals, and their own loud-sounding war _Whoô Whoóp_. Where they do not use divine emblems, their words have much articulation of consonants. Their radicals have not the inseparable property of three consonants, though frequently they have; and their words are not so