But these sentiments should not come in brief flashes, but burn as a steady flame; then there would be more women worthy to inspire them.

This power is good for nothing, unless the woman be wise to use it aright.

Has the Indian, has the white woman, as noble a feeling of life and its uses, as religious a self-respect, as worthy a field of thought and action, as man?
If not, the white woman, the Indian woman, occupies a position inferior to that of man.
It is not so much a question of power, as of privilege.
The men of these subjugated tribes, now accustomed to drunkenness and every way degraded, bear but a faint impress of the lost grandeur of the race.

They are no longer strong, tall, or finely proportioned.
Yet, as you see them stealing along a height, or striding boldly forward, they remind you of what _was_ majestic in the red man.
On the shores of Lake Superior, it is said, if you visit them at home, you may still see a remnant of the noble blood.

The Pillagers (Pilleurs), a band celebrated by the old travellers, are still existent there.
"Still some, 'the eagles of their tribe,' may rush." I have spoken of the hatred felt by the white man for the Indian: with white women it seems to amount to disgust, to loathing.