the great ceremonies of prayer and thanksgiving to the making of clothing, ornaments, and the objects of daily use. In reality, there is no break in the continuity of the Indian's thought and art when he goes from the sand-painting before his altar to the decoration of a cooking bowl. The "curio" from the Southwest which gives an exotic note to many a room is not, like its neighbor there, the old French helmet, a thing whose reason for existence has long since passed; still less it is like the batik hanging now so much in favor where designs are used of whose meaning the decorator knows little and believes less.
No one having even a slight familiarity with the work of the Indians ever has to trouble in distinguishing the things they make according to their own ideas and those they make for the tourist trade. The loss of beauty which the commercialized work exhibits is of course due to the loss of idea. For instance, in the band of decoration the Indian paints around his bowl there must always be a small opening; this means to him the place where spirits pass from the lower to the upper world. But as the white man has no interest in that, or thinks the break in the design an imperfection, the Indian ceases to follow the idea that was alive for him when he worked for his own people. The Hopi potter will never make a vessel of perfect roundness, for the perfect thing is to him the symbol of a life that is finished.
The life of these Southwestern Indians is not yet finished. But how long can it continue? At first the answer would seem so obvious as to make the question an affront if men were not taking measures to-day to consummate our last great wrong against the Indians. It must be our last, for if we "civilize" the Indians of the Southwest, there will be no more tribes possessing an ancient life of which we might deprive them. It is not a matter of preserving the artistic talent of the Americans who have given the best proof that they possess that quality. This is a precious thing, but I have so far discussed their art merely as the exponent of their life, as indeed art is always the thing that tells one most truly the life of a people. Neither is it the tourist who threatens to rob these Southwestern people of their old ideas. If they could stand three centuries of intercourse with the Spaniards, they need not fear the effect of occasional sight-seers from other parts of this country, even with the increasing facility of travel.
