an Amerind village hungry, if that village had a supply of food. And “the hungry Indian,” says Powell, “had but to ask to receive, and this no matter how small the supply or how dark the future prospect. It was not only his privilege to ask, it was his right to demand.” The Amerind distribution of food was based on long custom, on tribal laws; food was regarded like air and water, as a necessity that should in distress be without money and without price. Hospitality was a law, and was everywhere observed faithfully till intercourse with the methods of our race demolished it. Among isolated tribes it is still observed. Among the Mokis a hungry man of any colour is cheerfully fed. [Illustration: TLINKIT MAN AND WOMAN, 30 YEARS AGO, OR ABOUT 1870 “The labret, a small cylinder of silver with a broad head, is the modern style of lip ornament, differing materially from the large ones worn until a few years ago.”—Niblack Many tribes wore lip, nose, and ear ornaments ] We cannot seriously condemn the Amerind for not jumping at the opportunity to tie himself to the plough, or to the ledger, or the grindstone. He was, as a rule, close to Nature, and like all men who live thus he imbibed some of her grandeur. He lived in independence; and when he died, he died as the sun sets at evening, expiring in glory, without a tear, without lamentations. In the hands of the enemy at the stake, his passing away was sublime, like the summer cloud that sails steadily out into the infinite blue and dissolves. The most painful tortures failed to bring a moan to his lips, or a tear to his defiant eye, and his proud spirit departed in silence. An offer of liberty was frequently refused. Charnay tells of a Tlaxcaltec chief, of great fame as a warrior, who was captured and who, on being recognised, was offered his freedom. He refused to accept it and desired to be devoted to the gods, as was the custom. He was tied to the gladiatorial stone, where he killed eight warriors and wounded twenty others before being overpowered and offered up to the war-god. The habit of mind and body of dense commercial populations tends toward degeneration because it is a concentration in one line. The Western mountaineer exhibits the effect of removal from trade considerations in a repose of manner and a tranquillity of nerves which strongly suggest the Amerind. “There are incommensurable differences,” says Balzac, “between the man who mingles with others and him who dwells with Nature. Once captured, Toussaint Louverture died without uttering a word, while Napoleon on his rock chattered like a magpie.”