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The one hundred percent Americans have flung another insult in the face of the alien. In solemn council the descendants of the ferocious Iroquois Indians of New York and Canada have decided to institute a movement to cast off the white man's God and the white man's civilization. When theatre crowds are bustling along the noisy streets of Buffalo and Montreal, the forests will look upon familiar scenes from the past. While sacred fires shed an eery glow upon the pines, red men will dance as of old, with mystic rite and stately tread, chanting their hymns to the Great Spirit.
One can not entirely condemn the decision of the Iroquois. There have been worse religions than the Iroquois axiom that all men have one body, one brain, one heart. Certain bold Aryan spirits, among them Rousseau, have had the temerity to hint forcibly that the white man's civilization has come far from converting the world into an earthly happy hunting ground. The Indians may go too far in their reaction, but some degree of reaction will be a blessing. Nothing is more disillusioning than to see the descendants of roving warriors, who dangled from their waists the dripping scalps of whole colonies, clad in uncomfortable modern pants and tight modern shirts as they sit in the parlors of their cheap frame houses reading the society news in the "New York Times".
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