and romance.

The Indians themselves are full of poetry. Their legends embody poetic
fancy of the highest and most adventurous flight; their religious
ceremonies refer to things unseen with a directness which shows how bold
and vivid are their conceptions of the imaginative. The war-song--the
death-song--the song of victory--the cradle-chant--the lament for the
slain--these are the overflowings of the essential poetry of their
untaught souls. Their eloquence is proverbially soaring and figurative;
and in spite of all that renders gross and mechanical their ordinary
mode of marrying and giving in marriage, instances are not rare among
them of love as true, as fiery, and as fatal, as that of the most
exalted hero of romance. They, indeed, live poetry; it should be ours to
write it out for them.

Mrs. Eastman's aim has been to preserve from destruction such legends
and traits of Indian character as had come to her knowledge during long
familiarity; with the Dahcotahs, and nothing can be fresher or more
authentic than her records, taken down from the very lips of the red
people as they sat around her fire and opened their hearts to her
kindness. She has even caught their tone, and her language will be found
to have something of an Ossianic simplicity and abruptness, well suited
to the theme. Sympathy,--feminine and religious,--breathes through these
pages, and the unaffected desire of the writer to awaken a kindly
interest in the poor souls who have so twined themselves about her own
best feelings, may be said to consecrate the work. In its character of
aesthetic material for another age, it appeals to our nationality;
while, as the effort of a reflecting and Christian mind to call public
attention to the needs of an unhappy race, we may ask for it the
approbation of all who acknowledge the duty to "teach all nations."