The Jesuit Relations and Allied Documents
—————
Travels and Explorations
of the Jesuit Missionaries
in New France
1610—1791
THE ORIGINAL FRENCH, LATIN, AND ITALI-
IAN TEXTS, WITH ENGLISH TRANSLA-
TIONS AND NOTES; ILLUSTRATED BY
PORTRAITS, MAPS, AND FACSIMILES
EDITED BY
Reuben Gold Thwaites
Secretary of the State historical Society of Wisconsin
COMPUTERIZED TRANSCRIPTION BY
Tomasz Mentrak
Vol. XXX.
Hurons, Lower Canada:
1667—1669
CLEVELAND: The Burrows Brothers
Company, PUBLISHERS, M DCCC XCIX
THE JESUIT RELATIONS
AND
ALLIED DOCUMENTS
Vol. XXX
[Page iii]
The edition consists of sev-
en hundred and fifty sets
all numbered.
No.________
The Burrows Brothers Co.
[Page iv]
EDITORIAL STAFF
Editor
Reuben Gold Thwaites
| Finlow Alexander
| Percy Favor Bicknell
Translators.
| William Frederic Giese
| Crawford Lindsay
| William Price
| Hiram Allen Sober
Assistant Editor
Emma Helen Blair
Bibliographical Adviser
Victor Hugo Paltsits
Electronic Transcription
Tomasz Mentrak
[Page v]
Copyright, 1899
by
The Burrows Company
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all rights reserved
The Imperial Press, Cleveland
[Page ]
CONTENTS OF VOL. XXX.
Preface To Volume XXX
9
Documents:—
LX.
Relation de ce qvi s’est passé . . . . en la Novvelle France, és années 1645. & 1646. [Chaps. iv.-viii., Part II., completing the document,] Paul Ragueneau, Des Hurons, May 1, 1646; [Jacques de la Place?] undated
17
LXI.
Epistola ad R. P. Vincentium Caraffa, Præpositum Generalem Societatis Jesu, Romæ. Carolus Garnier; Divæ Mariæ apud Hurones, May 3, 1647
146
LXII.
Journal des PP. Jésuites. Hierosme Lalemant; Quebek, January-December, 1647
152
LXIII.
Relation de ce qvi s’est passé . . . . en la Novvelle France, svr le Grand Flevve de S. Lavrens en l’année 1647. [Chaps. i.-iii., first installment of document.] Hierosme Lalemant, Quebek, October 20, 1647
205
Bibliographical Data; Volume XXX
299
Notes
303
[Page vii]
[INSERT GRAPHIC HERE]
ILLUSTRATIONS TO VOL. XXX.
I.
Photographic facsimile of title-page, Relation of 1647.
208
[Page viii]
PREFACE TO VOL. XXX
Following is a synopsis of the documents contained in the present volume:
LX. The Relation of 1645-46, as stated in the Preface to Vol. XXVIII., is in two parts — Part I. (dated at Quebec, October 28,1646) being by the new superior of the Canadian missions, Jerome Lalemant; Part II. (dated in the Huron country, May 1, 1646) being the annual report on the condition of the Huron mission, by Ragueneau; but, at the close of Ragueneau’s seven chapters, Lalemant, without explanation, added an eighth, on the Miscou mission, which of course was not written by Ragueneau, but from internal evidence seems to be the work of Father Jacques de la Place. In Vol. XXVIII., we published the opening chapters of Part I., — this part being concluded in Vol. XXIX., which also contained the first three chapters of Part II. In the present volume, we give Chaps. iv.-viii. of Part II., concluding the document, — Chap. viii. being the account of the Miscou mission.
Continuing his narrative, Ragueneau relates many instances showing “the constancy and courage of the Huron church, amid the opposition of the infidels.” The native Christians cannot be moved by threats, so the pagans resort to lies and slanders, “with which they fill the whole country;” and they strive to corrupt the morals of the converts. A few of [Page 9] these relapse, in consequence; but most remain true to their profession. One man, assailed by sensual temptations, rolls his naked body in the snow until “those infernal dames are entirely quenched;” others, “in order to stifle that same fire of hell,” apply burning coals to their bodies, asking themselves, “How couldst thou, wretched man, bear an eternal fire, if thou canst not accustom thyself to this?” They find in prayer their chief support in these trials; one utters an ejaculatory prayer two hundred times in a single night, while others “travel alone and by unfrequented routes, in order to converse with God.” “These good people imagine that, in France, every one breathes nothing but holiness; that the conversation of companies is only of God; that vice keeps itself concealed there and would not dare to appear.” The Christians hold debates with the infidels, and often make sharp retorts to the latter; indeed, the pagans are “astonished to see that many who previously seemed to them quite ordinary minds, appear wholly changed when they have become Christians.”
Father Bressani at last reaches Huronia, having been captured by the Iroquois when on his way thither in 1644, but afterward escaping and being sent back to Europe by the Dutch. He soon returns, however, to resume his missionary labors; and his mutilated hands bear eloquent testimony to the truths that he preaches.
Ragueneau recounts many expressions of devotion, resignation, and penitence, uttered by these so recently savage neophytes. He says: “Tears are so rare in these countries, with respect to what concerns men, that I do not remember, in almost nine Years that I have lived among the Savages, to have [Page 10] seen one of them weep, except in sentiments of piety, and in keen contrition;” but they often shed tears upon realizing their sins, or obtaining new visions of God’s love. The missionaries are also consoled by the knowledge that they have secured, by baptism, the entrance of various Iroquois captives into heaven; and have converted some strangers from remote tribes, who retain and practice the instructions they have received. A sick man is miraculously cured at the chapel of Ste. Marie; another, on his death-bed, has a vision of an angel.
The mission of the Holy Ghost has been conducted by Pijart and Garreau, who spent most of the year with the Algonkins under their care; in this pastorate, they suffer many hardships but are rewarded by some visible results of their work. By the conversion of two Achirigouan Indians, encountered here, a step is gained toward the evangelization of those remote tribes about the Great Lakes. One of these men is baptized “at the end of six weeks, although we expect, in the case of most, probations of one and two years.” The Nipissirinien Christians, like their Huron brethren, meet with much opposition and scoffing from the pagans; but their courage is wonderfully sustained by the direct aid of the Holy Ghost. Father Garreau returns from this expedition so ill that, supposing him at the point of death, his coffin is made; but he is restored to health by a vow offered to the Virgin.
The Relation ends (Chap. viii., Part II.) with an account of the Miscou mission, probably by Father Jacques de la Place — certainly not by Ragueneau. Two Indian families have become sedentary there, and others promise to follow their example. [Page 11] details of several baptisms arc recounted. One of these is that of an Eskimo, a slave of Gaspé since his childhood; abandoned by his masters, in a grievous illness, he is restored to health by the Fathers. As a result, several other persons, aged or crippled, are cast by their tribesmen upon the charity of the mission, which thus has a little hospital to support. treaty of peace is negotiated at Isle Percée between hostile tribes — the Betsiamites north of the St. Lawrence, and the Micmacs of Gaspé and Acadia,” who bore each other a mortal hatred.” The proceedings at this conference are described at length. This peace will aid the missionaries; for they all find among the savages an increasing willingness to receive baptism.
LXI. Gamier writes from the Huron country (May 3, 1647), a letter (in Latin) to Caraffa, the new father general of the Jesuits, congratulating him on his election, and thanking him for a fatherly and encouraging letter which he had written to the Huron mission. He, further, advises the general that Ragueneau is doing admirable work as superior therein, and deprecates any change in that office. Gamier mentions the slow and difficult nature of their work for the Hurons, and makes an earnest appeal for more laborers in this field.
LXII. The Journal des Jésuites is continued, giving the record for 1647. As before, Lalemant recounts the New-Year’s gifts made and received by the Fathers. More than forty Indians from Three Rivers join their tribesmen at Sillery, which increases the population of that colony to over zoo. A Frenchman, named Chastillon, urgently desires to marry an Indian girl who has been educated by the Ursulines; [Page 12] but she refuses to accept him and prefers a husband from her own people. A ballet is danced at the warehouse, February 27; no one is present from any of the religious houses, ’ ‘ except the little Marsolet.” Early in March, beer is brewed “for the first time” at Sillery.
The ice begins to thaw on March 11, at the end of “a winterless winter,” the past cold season having been unusually mild. Ten days later, news comes of a treacherous attack by the Iroquois, who capture a hundred Algonkins. At St. Joseph’s feast, the usual bonfire is omitted — partly through Lalemant’s opposition; he “hardly relished this Ceremony, which had no devotion attending it.” During this month, all the timbers for the Jesuits’ new house are hauled to its site; the foundations of this building are begun on June 12.
Early in April, the Hurons at Quebec decide, against Montmagny’s advice, to attack the Iroquois; and, soon after, comes news that the latter have made raids upon Montreal, capturing two Frenchmen and four Hurons. In consequence, Montmagny gives the aid of a half-dozen Frenchmen to an expedition that leaves Sillery, May 4, to attack the Iroquois.
On May 10, the first fish are taken. The news is brought, on June 5, that Father Jogues and his companion Lalande have been murdered by the Iroquois, and that Montreal is in danger from these implacable enemies. The Indians at Sillery are terrified at this, and obtain permission to retire behind the palisades of the Jesuit residence there, which they also fortify more thoroughly.
Father Bailloquet arrives from France on the first vessel of the season (June 25); “that same vessel [Page 13] brought the 1st Horse, of which the habitans made a present to Monsieur the governor. ‘* A few days later, that official is requested to permit the election of a procurer syndic by the habitants; they are “referred to the general assembly.” Toward the end of the month, the cannon are brought back from Fort Richelieu, which is now abandoned. The priest of the Ursulines attempts to set his own price on some beaver skins; but these are confiscated. and taken from his room.
Early in July, the Abenakis ask that Father Dreuillettes may return to them; but this is refused, because the Capuchin fathers ask that this field of labor be left to them, On the 19th, a consultation is held by the Jesuits, concerning “the Beaver trade carried on at Sillery.” The matter is thus decided: “That, if the warehouse were reasonable, we were obliged in conscience not to divert the trade elsewhere. If it were not reasonable, we might with conscience dissimulate — the habitans having the right, by nature and from the king, to trade. That, whether the warehouse were reasonable or not, we were not compelled to trade.” July 21, the habitants elect Jean Bourdon as their procurer syndic, and set aside their former directors. Some men, while drinking and smoking, set fire to the building where they sleep, and one Bastien, a servant of the Jesuits, and a dissipated fellow, is burned to death while drunken; consequently, his body is not buried in consecrated ground.
This year, a change takes place in the government Of the Canadian colonies, by which is formed a council of three persons, one of whom is to be the superior of the Jesuits. Several new missionaries arrive [Page 14] this year — Fathers Bailloquet, Grelon, and Bonin, and some lay brethren.
Early in September, the Sillery Indians return from the war-path, bringing one Iroquois captive, who is burned at Sillery. “He lived in the torments only one hour; his body was thrown into the water; he was baptized, and died piously. “This year, the Hurons do not come down, largely through fear of the Iroquois. In November, news comes that the Abenakis, with whom Dreuillettes is wintering, are perishing with hunger. Christmas is celebrated, as usual, with many religious ceremonies. Montmagny and Bourdon make several presents to the Jesuits , — game, fish, and Spanish wine. Their house, begun in June, is ready for occupation before New-Years.
LXIII. The Relation of 1647 consists of but one part, — written by Jerome Lalemant, as superior, and dated at Quebec, October 20, 1647. In a prefatory note, Lalemant mentions the renewed incursions of the treacherous Iroquois, especially their murder of Father Jogues and his companion, and their successes against the Algonkins, which enable them to block the upper rivers against access in either direction. Consequently, the report for the Huron mission has not reached Quebec; but other letters received there, by way of the northern tribes, indicate that the Huron church is flourishing and even increasing. New missionaries are demanded there, whom Lalemant consents to send, although hesitating to risk so many precious lives.
He begins the Relation proper (of which we have space in this volume for but the three opening chapters) by describing the treachery of the Iroquois — [Page 15] the Mohawks, who had made peace with the French a year before, being the first to break it, and persuading the other Iroquois tribes to attack the French. Jogues goes on a third expedition to these savages, to open a mission among them. Hardly has he reached them, ere he dies by their hands (October 18, 1646). Lalemant proceeds to describe the subsequent incursions of the Iroquois into Canada, and their cruel treatment of their captives; on one of these raids, the Christian chief Pieskaret is perfidiously slain. He also narrates the trial and hardships endured by several Algonkin women who escaped their hands, and succeeded in reaching Quebec. Some Algonkins also succeed, on one occasion, in surprising and killing a party of Iroquois.
The Editor has, of late, received valuable assistance in investigations in French archives, from Pere Camille de Rochemonteix, S. J., of the Versailles house of the order; Dr. Charles H. Haskins, of the University of Wisconsin; and M. A. Vidier, of the Bibliothèque Nationale, Paris.
R. G. T.
Madison, Wis., September, 1898.
LX(concluded)
Relation of 1645-46
Paris: SEBASTIEN ET GABRIEL CRAMOISY, 1647
—————
This document was commenced in Volume XXVIII.; it occupied all of Volume XXIX., and is herewith completed.
[37] CHAPTER IV,
TRIAL OF THE CONSTANCY AND COURAGE OF THIS
CHURCH AMID THE OPPOSITION OF
THE INFIDELS.
0
neof the first Christians of this country, speaking some time ago to a new Catechumen who was asking of him some advice before receiving Baptism, answered him: “My brother, I have only two things to say to thee. The first is, that thou wilt never be a good Christian if thou dost not suffer many insults and calumnies for thy faith: when thou shalt see thyself hated by the infidels, even by those who now have most love for thee, then rejoice, and think that truly thou art beginning to be a Christian. The second, that thou take care not to be indignant at those who shall make thee suffer; pray to God for them, and tell him in thy heart that he shall show mercy to them, and enable them to understand the wretched condition in which they live.”
Indeed, this good Christian was right: [38] for it is true that the surest mark that we have, in these countries, of the faith of a Christian, is to see him straightway greeted with calumny. And if the faith of some seems doubtful to us, if some become apostates after receiving Holy Baptism, — they are precisely those who were living most in repose, and as it were, sheltered from the storm.
Ignace Oiiakonchiaronk, — one of the richest and [Page 19] most popular men in the Village of St. Ignace, before he had received the faith, — no sooner embraced it than he saw the affections of his whole Village changed toward him. Opportunities were sought for beating him to death, and, — these, attacks not being successful, — that they might get rid of him with more impunity, he was vigorously accused of being in the number of those secret Sorcerers whom every one is permitted to slay as a public victim, and as the cause of diseases which become protracted, and for which a cure cannot be obtained.
This good Christian was not astonished, seeing himself so closely attacked at a point so sensitive; he braced himself against that storm, and the temptation has served only to give more luster to his faith and his courage. [39] “I begin to know,” he said openly in public, “that my heart does not deceive. me, and that my faith is genuine, since it is an object of hatred. If they have formed the design of making me lose either life or the faith, let them hasten to slay me as soon as possible. My soul does not cling to my body, and I will not attempt to parry my death; I will lower my head before the man who, shall choose to kill me as a Christian. Let them not seek pretexts, and let them have as little fear to deal the first blow at my person, as I have to receive it; they will see that the Christians do not pale at death, and that their faith is proof against that which is considered most frightful in this world.”
The good thing is, that his zeal did not stop there. He has converted his family, — his wife, his children, and his nephews; and since that time, he does not cease to publish to the infidels the excellence of the faith, which all admire in him, but which those who [Page 21] have not his courage cannot resolve to buy at the cost of the calumnies with which they see him persecuted.
The faith finds no distinction between the sexes. A woman of that same [40] Village, named Lute Andotraaon, having become a Christian, had given up a certain dance , — the most celebrated in the country, because it is believed the most powerful over the Demons to procure, by their means, the healing of certain diseases. Be this as it may, that dance is only for chosen people, who are admitted to it with ceremony, with great gifts, and after a declaration which they make to the grand masters of this Brotherhood, to keep secret the mysteries that are intrusted to them, as things holy and sacred.[i]
A Captain of high standing among the chief officers of these mysterious ceremonies, came to find that Christian woman who had renounced their dance; having taken her aside, he told her in confidence, that he came to give her warning of the design which they had against her. He said that, in a secret council which the leaders of that dance had held, they had resolved to surprise her the next Summer in her field, to split her head, and remove her scalp, — by that means concealing the murder that would be committed, the suspicion of it being likely to fall on the Iroquois enemies. He told her that the only means of averting this blow was [41] to abandon the faith, and come back into the dance from which she had gone forth.
This woman made manifest, on this occasion, that her faith was stronger than death. “They will oblige me,” she said to him, “by making me die for so good a cause; and thou obligest me by warning me of it as a friend: for now I shall think, with more [Page 23] truth than ever, that I am dead to the world, and that I must live to God alone.”
We shall see this Summer what will be the effects of that threat. However, the grand masters of that dance have not long deferred the revelation of the designs which they have of opposing themselves to the progress of the faith. They have solicited many Christians to renounce Christianity, and to array themselves on their side; their importunate pursuit, their promises, their threats, and the gifts which they have not spared, have carried away some of the weakest of these. But, after all, the small number, notwithstanding all these great efforts, of those who have allowed themselves to fall away, has caused us to recognize the lively faith of the majority, and has served to animate the good Christians [42] in the expectation of a ruder war, and of a combat which may proceed even to blood, and which may make for us Martyrs; these, they plainly see, cannot fail them if they continue to be true to their faith,
But it seems that the infidels themselves distrust their forces; or, rather, they well judge that the faith so lifts a soul above all the misfortunes of the earth, that it can have no dread of an evil which is not, eternal. In order, then, to sap the foundations of our faith, they have tried to shake them by falsehoods which they invent, and with which they fill the whole country.
At one time they circulate the rumor that some Algonquins have recently returned from a very distant journey, — in which, having gone astray in countries till then unknown, they have found very populous cities, inhabited only by the souls which formerly had lived a life similar to ours. They say that [Page 25] there they have heard wonders, — that they have been assured that these things which are said of Paradise and of Hell are fables; [43] that it is true that souls are immortal, but that, upon exit from the first bodies which they had, they see themselves at liberty, and gain entirely new bodies, more vigorous than the first, and a more blissful country; and that thus our souls, at death, leave their bodies in the manner of those who abandon a cabin and an exhausted soil, in order to seek one newer and more productive.
At other times there have come, it is said, certain news that there has appeared in the woods a phantom of prodigious size, who bears in one hand ears of Indian corn, and, in the other, a great abundance of fish; who says that it is he alone who has created men, who has taught them to till the earth, and who has stocked all the lakes and the seas with fish, so that nothing might fail for the livelihood of men. These he recognized as children, although they did not yet recognize him as their father, — just like an infant in the cradle, who has not firm enough judgment to recognize those to whom he owes all that he [44] is, and all the support of his life. But this phantom added, they said, that our souls, being separated from our bodies, would then have a greater knowledge; that they would see that it is from him that they hold life; and that then, upon rendering him the honors which he deserves, he would increase both his love and his cares for them, — that he would do good to them all. He also said that to believe that any one of them was destined to a place of torments and to the fires, which are not beneath the earth, were false notions, — with which, nevertheless, we treacherously strive to terrify them. [Page 27]
Finally, — since it is true that lying disguises itself in a thousand ways, and that often the more impudence there is, the more it finds entrance into men’s minds , — without seeking so far away for forged news, some was made to come from our very house; and this it is which has found most credit, which has most awed the simple, and which has constituted the most powerful rhetoric of the enemies of our faith. It was said that a Huron Christian woman, of those [45] who are buried in our cemetery, had risen again; that she had said that the French were impostors; that her soul, having left the body, had actually been taken to Heaven; that the French had welcomed it there, but in the manner in which an Iroquois captive is received at the entrance to their Villages, — with firebrands and burning torches, with cruelties and torments inconceivable. She had related that all Heaven is nothing but fire, and that there the satisfaction of the French is to burn now some, now others; and that, in order to possess many of these captive souls, which are the object of their pleasures, they cross the seas, and come into these regions as into a land of conquest, just as a Huron exposes himself with joy to the fatigues and all the dangers of war, in the hope of bringing back some captive. It was further said that those who are thus burned in Heaven, as captives of war, are the Huron, Algonquin, and Montagnais Christians, and that those who have not been willing in this world to render themselves slaves of the French, or to receive [46] their laws, go after this life into a place of delights, where everything good abounds, and whence all evil is banished.
This risen woman added, they said, that, after [Page 29] having been thus tormented in Heaven a whole day, — which seemed to her longer than our years, — the night having come, she had felt herself roused, near the beginning of her sleep; that a certain person, moved with compassion for her, had broken her bonds and chains, and had shown her, at one side, a deep valley which descended into the earth, and which led into that place of delights whither the souls of the infidel Hurons go; that from afar she had seen their villages and their fields, and had heard their voices, as of people who dance and who are feasting. But she had chosen to return into her body, as long as was necessary to warn those who were there present of such terrible news, and of that great misfortune which awaited them at death, if they continued to believe in the impostures of the French.
This news was soon spread [47] everywhere: it was believed in the country without gainsaying. At saint Joseph, it was made to come from the Christians of la Conception; in the Village of la Conception, it was said to come from St. Jean Baptiste; and there it was reported that the Christians of saint Michel had discovered this secret, but that we had corrupted, by many presents, those who had seen it with their own eyes, and that they had not dared to tell it except to some of their intimates. In a word, it was an article of faith for all the infidels, and even some of the Christians almost half believed it.
Thereupon, wonders were told; and, in order to confirm this truth more substantially, they said that in reality the place of the fire is not the center of the earth, but rather the Sky, to which we see fires and flames ascend. They added that the Sun was a fire, [Page 31] and that — if he makes himself felt from so far, if he warms or burns according as he approaches us — one cannot doubt that he makes a powerful conflagration in the Sky, and that he furnishes flames more than are required in order to burn [48] all the Hurons whom the French try to send thither.
These falsehoods and similar discourses are so many clouds, with which untruth incessantly strives to obscure the light of our faith, which, after all, renders itself ever victorious over them, but yet never stays without an enemy, — one fog being no sooner scattered than another rises from the earth, sometimes thicker and more difficult to clear away than the one which preceded it.
The infidels, having seen all these resources and so many batteries result with little success for them, have had recourse to what they have judged most powerful in nature, and to arms, the blows of which r they did not suppose the faith could parry. They have incited, even publicly and in the midst of their feasts, lewd girls to win the hearts of the Christians — hoping that, having lost their chastity, their faith would no longer be so vigorous, and would perish in debauchery. But if some one has made it appear, on that side, that his faith had not altogether detached him from the body, and had left him in the number of men, [49] the courage of most has given those firebrands of hell to understand that their fires and their flames have no hold on a heart which is possessed of a more holy ardor. And what has appeared to us more delightful in most of these victories is, that several in such encounters, after having imitated the purity of the most chaste Joseph, judged [Page 33] themselves criminal even to have been the object of an infamous pursuit,
“It must be,” said one of them with tears in his eyes, “that latterly the devil has perceived that my faith has become weakened, since he so little conceals the designs which he has on me; our enemies do not openly attack a Village which they know to be well defended.” And, having related, to that one of our Fathers to whom he had recourse, the violent means that he had just employed in order to withdraw himself from the hands of some shameless women, he added: “Five years ago, I was taken captive by the Iroquois; but even then, when the enemies threw themselves on me, I had less terror than I felt at the approach of these wretched creatures. “
Here follows, in this connection, a conversion which seems to me quite remarkable. One of those dissolute girls, having perceived that all [50] her endeavors had no power over the mind of a young Christian, returned to herself, and decided that our faith must needs be something excellent, since, even at an age which values only pleasures, it gave aversion and horror for them to those who had embraced it. She made inquiry of a young Christian girl, and asked her if she really believed that there was a Hell; and how she could be sure that the French, who came to instruct them, did not tell them lies. “I believe it firmly,” answered the Christian girl; “but even though that should be a doubtful thing, the very thought that perhaps there is a Hell for those who remain infidels, ought to make you dread a misfortune so terrible. Otherwise, we are mistaken, when we go into our fields throughout the Summer, in [Page 35] fearing the hidden ambushes of the Iroquois; since perhaps, at the very height of our fears, the enemies do not think of us.”
The infidel girl was so touched by this answer that, from that time, this thought could not leave her mind, that at least it might well be the case that there was in [51] Hell a fire prepared for the infidels; and that, in such case, she would be eternally wretched. Finally, at the end of two months, she comes to find one of our Fathers, in order to ask him for Baptism. “Thou art a corrupt girl,” he said to her. “I desire to be so no longer,” she answered; “the fire of Hell has confounded me. Before coming to thee, I wished to prove myself; and I set myself to practice what I will have to do as a Christian. I know not whence can come this change, but I have found myself quite different in what gave me the most apprehension for my weakness. Why can I not continue all my life what I have practiced for two months? When a young man now accosts me, I tell him that I have a desire to be a Christian, and that he must expect nothing from me. If that serves me for defense, Baptism will increase my strength.” To be brief, this new penitent having continued five or six months in her endeavors, with an extraordinary fervor, one could not put her off longer in so just a request: she received, with Baptism, the name of Magdelaine.
[52] A young Huron, greatly fearing God, who for several years has maintained himself in the Christian faith with an innocence altogether delightful, was solicited by his relatives to marry. Being asked whether he was acquainted with a certain girl whom there was talk of giving him for wife, “I look at none [Page 37] of them,” he answered an uncle of his; “for I know that God has forbidden it; I turn away my glances when any one appears to me in a chance encounter. Let them give me, since thus it is, whomsoever they will; provided they assure me that she has a desire to die in the faith, and that she has a horror of sin, our affections will soon be united; and I hope that it will not be for the purpose of breaking them lightly, and in the manner of the infidels, — since living, both alike, in the desire of pleasing God, we shall try to render them immortal.”
To finish this Chapter, I will say that our Huron snows have been whitened, this winter, by the chastity of a young Christian, who — feeling in his body a fire, of which he had more horror than of that of Hell, and temptations so powerful that it seemed to him that all the Demons [53] of impurity possessed him — no longer knew what remedy to apply to an evil which he could not shun, being unable to forsake himself. Finally, transported with a holy despair, he ran into a neighboring wood, stripped himself quite naked, threw himself into the snows, and rolled in them a long time, — bathing them with his tears, and uttering his prayers to Heaven with so much fervor that, having lost nearly all feeling, those infernal flames became entirely quenched, and left his soul as vigorous, after this victory, as he found his body dejected; there scarcely remained to him enough strength to return to the place whence he had started. Even after that, this good young Christian did not deem that he had had sufficient horror of that temptation, and accused himself of cowardice for not having soon enough had recourse to this remedy.
I know more than one of them who have applied [Page 39] upon their bodies coals and burning brands, in order to stifle that same fire of hell, — saying to themselves, to overcome the temptation: “And how couldst thou, wretched man, bear an eternal fire, if thou canst not accustom thyself to this one, which is but a feeble painting of that?” [Page 41]
[54] CHAPTER V.
GOOD SENTIMENTS OF SOME CHRISTIANS.
S
ometime ago, the principal Christians of our Huron Churches, happening to be together, asked one another whence they felt themselves most powerfully fortified in their faith; and what, in their opinion, was the most efficacious means which God had given them in order to resist temptations, avoid sin, and live truly as Christians. Some said that on leaving the Communion they saw themselves quite different, and felt indeed that Jesus Christ was the master of their hearts, possessed their minds, and rendered them robust. Others said that after Confession they were wholly renewed, and similar to a traveler who, having discharged a very heavy burden, felt his strength come back, and even ran in a road from which previously he could not have extricated himself. But most were agreed, that [55] prayer was their most powerful support; that thence they drew their vigor and their strength; that they felt themselves animated by it with quite another mind; and that it seemed to them that, if they came to lose the use of it, they would soon lose the dread of sin, and consequently, the faith.
However this may be, we see that most of them esteem prayer as the life of their being and the soul of their faith. Their use of it is so frequent and so sacred that they accuse themselves for having undertaken anything without having commended themselves [Page 43] to God; for having begun labor without having offered to him the first-fruits of it; and for not having soon enough directed their thoughts to him on suffering some pain, receiving some injury, being seized with a sadness, assailed by a sickness, or attacked by any trouble.
“No,” said in this connection a Huron who was very poor, but very rich in his faith; “the Christians would be the most unhappy on the earth unless they knew that God sees them, that he is witness of their miseries, and that he listens to their prayers. But when we think that all our sorrows will be changed into joy, that God loves us [56] in our greatest afflictions, and that we shall derive an eternal happiness from all our sufferings, provided that we endure them patiently, — the recourse that we then have to prayer consoles us throughout this life, and makes us love as a great benefit that which is considered a great evil; or, at least, in the view that we have of Paradise and Hell we endure with meekness the afflictions of this life, in this true thought, that, as they are not to be eternal, they can be but a small evil. “
A poor Christian woman, being asked if she offered to God her pains, answered: “Alas! that is my only consolation. Could it indeed happen, that a Christian — who firmly believes that the little which he endures can procure for him an eternity of happiness, if he suffer for the love of God — should be willing to lose so rich a reward, and suffer only in the manner of the infidels and of wild beasts, which have not the knowledge of a true God?”
There are some who use their Rosaries, in order to mark how many times they have uplifted their [Page 45] hearts to God , — striving [57] to continue Perfecting themselves from day to day in an exercise so holy, and one which appears to them so lovable; and one man will be found who, in the space of one night, will have uttered two hundred times some ejaculatory prayer. Some, being in their fields of Indian corn, in order to renew more frequently the offering which they make to God of their work, will take, as a sign which is to refresh their memory of this, some trees before which they pass very often; and will mark there, either on the bark or else upon the ground, a cross, which they adore every time when they pass it. Others will content themselves to be faithful to God as many times as he shall draw them to himself in the depths of their souls: and it will sometimes happen that certain ones among them will have been almost constantly in prayer, without intending so to be,
“I have no sense,” said some time ago an excellent Christian of the Village of la Conception, named Joseph Taondechoren; “if I would always pray to God, I would be with him without ceasing, for I certainly feel that he is always drawing my heart to himself. I give it to him at the same moment, and content myself with that; but [58] he is not content with it. I feel that he tells me again, in the depth of my soul, that he wishes that I be altogether his; I answer him that he knows well that I only desire to be his alone; that he shall do his will upon me, and that he shall dispose of my life. The more I give myself to him, the more he urges me not to refuse him what he asks. Any man who should treat me in that way would be annoying to me, and his persistencies would render him insufferable to [Page 47] me: and yet I cannot, and would not dare to, complain of the rigor with which God treats me. I see well that it is only love and goodness; and that there is not in this world a pleasure similar to that which I feel when he leaves me least in repose, and constrains me a thousand times to tell him that I am altogether his.”
Another, named Andre Ochiendarenouan, told us that the one thing in this world which gave him a most lively idea of the great happiness of Paradise, was the thought that if in this life, on saying these two words, Jesus taitenr, — “Jesus, have pity on me,”— he felt so much contentment in his heart, that it surpassed all the pleasures together which ever he [59] had felt within the seventy years since he was in the world, — it must indeed be that in Heaven there were ineffable satisfactions, since God awaits that opportunity to make us enjoy his mercies; and since the pleasures which we taste in telling Our Lord to have pity on us are only while we await that great blessing which we shall possess in Heaven, the hope of which alone so sweetly fills our whole hearts throughout this life.
A good Christian woman, in a similar frame of mind, profoundly astonished one of her infidel kinswomen, who was exhorting her to renounce Christianity, and was assuring her that it was beyond doubt that all that we preached to them of Paradise was nothing but fables. “Suffer me, I beg thee, to die peacefully in my error,” this good Christian answered her; “even though I should be deceived, — which is not the case, — it would be a very agreeable deception. Why do you wish to rob me of a real benefit, which is not alone’ in expectation, but of [Page 49] which I am in possession from now on ? for it is true that the ,hope of Paradise consoles me throughout this life, and sweetens for me everything, which without that in it would be [60] unendurable to us.”
One of our Fathers, seeing a good man — very simple, but an excellent Christian — who usually spent a very long time in his prayers, asked him the reason of it. This good man answered him, very artlessly, that the reason for this slowness proceeded from the fact that he did not yet know how to pray well to God; that he was often filled with distractions; and that, — in order that the devil should gain nothing upon him, and should weary of interrupting him, — he began his prayers over again, whenever he found that he had been distracted. “Very rarely,” added this good man, “my spirit makes its way even to God; and then I do not perceive the time that I spend in my prayer, for my heart is so transported beyond itself, that I feel neither heat, nor cold, nor pain, nor weariness. I have not even a thought of the things of the earth; but only that God is good, and that it is good to be with him.”
The Father continued to ask him what this great pleasure was like, which he felt at those times. “I have nothing like it,” he answered; “all the satisfactions ‘which I have conceived in this world are [61] nothing in comparison with a single moment of these delights which God causes me to taste, — neither the feasts, nor the riches, nor the pleasures, of which I now have a horror, and which formerly I esteemed the greatest in the world. If, however,” he added, “I am constrained to make some answer, I see nothing which seems to me so near to these [Page 51] pleasures of Heaven, as was that which I formerly felt when most eager for the chase, — when I found some stag caught in my traps, or had slain some bear which I had long pursued with many fatigues.”
The same man, — taking a journey with his son, and seeing that this young man beguiled the weariness of his way by singing some indifferent airs, said to him: “My son, I see well that God is not the supreme master of thy heart; thy thoughts would all be his, and, of a time in which no one can interrupt thee, thou wouldst make profit for Heaven. The winds have carried away thy song, and have at the same time dissipated thy pleasures; if thy conversation had been with God, the grace which thou hadst acquired by thy prayers would have remained with thee [62] for an eternity.”
In this same spirit of prayer, some, upon taking the road, will avoid company and will take sequestered routes, in order to converse with God, and not to be interrupted; for they say: “It is not here as in France, where those whom we might meet would speak to us only of God.” These good people imagine that in France every one breathes nothing but holiness; that the conversation of companies is only of God; that vice keeps itself concealed there, and would not dare to appear; and that it is just as difficult to find there a corrupt person, — every one there being a Christian, — as it is here, in an infidel world, to meet companies who have their affections only for the good. Be that as it may, their virtue does not lack trial in that direction; and those who wish to appear always what they are have need of courage.
A Christian having found himself, while making a journey, in a cabin of infidels, where there chanced [Page 43] to be made scoffing remarks about our faith, was strongly tempted to pray to God only in secret, when the time for the repast had come; but having [63] perceived the temptation, and desiring to overcome it, .he began to pronounce his Benedicite so loudly that all the company were surprised. “Cease to be astonished,” he said to them; “you must know that I have been assailed by two very different kinds of shame. The first was on account of you, whose railleries I feared; the second was on account of myself and of God, who looks at me, and before whom I was ashamed not to dare to appear a Christian, The latter has been the stronger, and because the first inclined me to pray to God only in secret, the second has impelled me to pray to God so loudly that every one should know that I am, and will die, a Christian; that what you mock is my glory, and the greatest happiness that I esteem in this world.”
A Christian woman named Marthe Aatio, having chanced to be on a journey with a number of infidels, never omitted to pray to God morning and evening, before and after the meal, and to make the sign of the cross on two little twins that she was nursing, each time when she gave them the breast, although the infidels pointed their fingers at her, and made sport of her. Her husband, who was not a Christian, placed himself [64] also on the side of her opponents, saying that she was famished to pray to God; and that when in their Village, she ran as quickly to the Mass, at the first sound of the Bell, as if one had invited her to, a feast, — leaving everything as it was, whatever work she had in hand.
“Do not suppose that I ought to blush for that reproach, “answered this good Christian; “you could [Page 55] say, in order better to deal your blow, not only that I go to prayers, as if I had been invited to a feast, but that I run to them still faster: for, in truth, the feasts make almost no impression on me, since I know that we have souls more precious than our bodies. If you infidels leave everything for a good morsel, know that a good Christian will never be ashamed to leave everything for prayer; you think of nothing but the earth, and our thoughts are for Heaven. “
The same woman, kindling a fire one morning when it was very cold, thanked God because he had created the forests and woods, wherewith men might warm themselves. Her husband wished to mock at her. “Thy father,” he said to her, “for whom thou lightest this [65] fire, does not thank thee, although he sees thee; why are thou so simple as to thank God, whom thou hast never seen?” “I am under obligation to my father,” answered the wife, “and the little that I do for him in that is not considerable; but the favors which God does for us are continual, and he can have received nothing from us which obliges him to do us so much good. It is enough that we know that he hears us, and that he sees us, although we do not see him, to oblige us to render him our thanks.”
In this connection, I remember an answer as full of wit as of faith, which a Christian, named Charles Ondaaiondiont, made some time ago to the blasphemy of an infidel. This infidel was taunting the Christians, saying that, if God were omnipotent and so jealous of his honor, he ought to have rendered himself visible, so as to be recognized for what he is; and that he ought to have opened to our view, on one [Page 57] side his Paradise, and, on the other, Hell. Then, indeed, one might have dreaded his threats and desired his rewards, — which then would have appeared veritable to us, and would not have [66] left our minds in doubt. But, he said, as God had kept himself concealed, either he was wanting in love for us, and was not seeking to be honored by men; or, rather, one must thence conclude that there was no God in the world, and that our faith was founded only in error.
“Oh, wretched man!” answered him this good Christian, “if thou wert blind, thou wouldst then say that there is no Sun in the Sky. But shouldst thou not rather believe those who see it, and try to recover sight, that thou mayst enjoy a like blessing? Leave your vices and the corruption of your morals; then you will cease to be infidels, and you will avow with us that truly there is a God. You will love him more than his rewards; and you will judge it reasonable that whoever is so presumptuous as to offend him deserves eternal pains.”
“What then?” replied to him this infidel, “have you then the sight of this God whom you adore?” “No,” answered him the Christian, “but we see all the things of this world which he has created; and [67] we can just as little doubt that there is a God, as a wise man could doubt that the Sun is in the Sky when it is covered with clouds, and that it lights this world below, though we see it not. We shall see him revealed when the clouds shall be scattered, when our souls shall be divested of their bodies,”
“But why has he not rendered himself visible from now on?” “So that,” answered the Christian, “corrupt persons, like you, could not see him.” [Page 59]
The elders of the country were assembled this winter for the election of a very celebrated Captain. They are accustomed, on such occasions, to relate the stories which they have learned regarding their ancestors, even those most remote, — so that the young people, who are present and hear them, may preserve the memory thereof, and relate them in their turn, when they shall have become old. They do this in order thus to transmit to posterity the history and the annals of the country, — striving, by this means, to supply the lack of writing and of [68] books, which they have not. They offer, to the person from whom they desire to hear something, a little bundle of straws a foot long, which serve them as counters for calculating the numbers, and for aiding the memory of those present, — distributing in various lots these same straws, according to the diversity of the things which they relate.
The turn having come to a Christian old man, to tell what he knew, he begins to narrate the creation of the world, of the Angels, of the Demons, of Heaven and earth, with a most sagacious reservation, which kept all those present in a state of expectancy; for he was far along in the matter, and still had not yet given the name of the one who had made this great masterpiece. When he came to name him, and to say that God, whom the Christians adore, was the Creator of the world, the eldest Captain of those present seizes the straws from his hands, imposes silence upon him, and tells him that he does wrong to relate the stories of the French, and not those of the Hurons. But, he says, he is going to relate the pure truth, and how [69] it has happened that the earth, which was submerged [Page 61] in the waters, has been pushed out of them by a certain Tortoise of prodigious size, which sustains it and which serves it for support, — without which the weight of this earth would again engulf it in the waters, and would cause in this world below a general desolation of all the human race.[ii]
This good Christian upon whom they had imposed silence, and who had waited expressly to manifest his zeal, having for some time given audience to the fable of that infidel Captain, also in his turn seizes the straws from his hand. “Be silent thyself,” he said to him; “I consented to listen to thee, and became silent without resistance, — believing that thou wouldst teach us something better, and as true as what I was saying. But seeing that thou tellest only fables, which have no foundation but lies, I have more right to speak than thou. Where are the writings which give us faith in what thou sayest? If each one is permitted to invent what he will, is it [70] strange that we know nothing true, since we must acknowledge that the Hurons have been liars from all time ? But the French do not speak by heart; they preserve from all antiquity the Sacred books, wherein the word of God himself is written, without permission to any one to alter it the least in the world, — unless he would expose himself to the confusion of seeing himself belied by all the nations of the earth, who cherish this truth more than they have love for life.”
A Magician, among the most famous in this country, after having vomited a thousand blasphemies against God, was insolently boasting that it was in his power to procure the rains in time of drouth; to stop them when they should be too copious; to prevent the frosts which might injure their Indian corn, [Page 63] In a word, he made himself the umpire of the seasons of the year, — provided that the people had recourse to him, and rendered homage to the Demon whom he invokes. This arrogant one, seeing that a Christian there present did not, like the others, betoken any sign of astonishment [71] at the recital of so many marvels, took him aside, and told him, very rudely, that he was without sense, not to admire his power; and that it was a mark of his madness, that he had become a Christian.
“In truth,” gently answered him the Christian, “I have had only compassion for thee, hearing thy discourse; I am not obstinate, however, and am ready to admire thy wonders, provided that I see them. Cause a mountain to rise here, in the sight of every one who hears us; then I will acknowledge that truly thy power is great. But if thou canst not do it, allow me to adore him alone who has made all the mountains. Teach us here the principles of thy wisdom; we shall see whether it is more adorable than his. At least, if thou knowest his commandments, thou wilt admit that they are more equitable than thine.” This poor Magician was constrained to withdraw, to his own confusion, and since then has not returned.
But what most astonishes the infidels, on such occasions, is [72] that they see that many, who previously seemed to them quite ordinary minds, appear wholly changed when they have become Christians. And, in fact, the faith greatly enlightens a mind; the support of a good cause furnishes excellence of argument; and our Savages quite easily acquire a very blessed liberty when, having become Christians, they think that they have no more fear in this world but God and sin. [Page 65]
Here is a trait of faith which has pleased me. We had notified certain persons here of an eclipse of the Moon, which occurred the thirtieth of January, and the beginning of which appeared to us at ten o’clock and forty-six minutes. I was then in the Village of la Conception. They did not fail to leave the cabins, to see if the eclipse would really be such as we had predicted it. A good Christian set himself to pray to God during all that time. The next day, the others asking him why he had not gone out to see so remarkable an eclipse, he answered: “Because it then came to my thought that [73] God had not invited us to go to see eclipses, but that indeed he had promised us that he would have more love for us, the more time we should give to prayer. To which another Christian replied, that, for his part, he had gone to see it on purpose to confirm himself in the belief which he had, that what we taught them of the future resurrection will one day prove just as true as what we had predicted to them of this eclipse before it appeared. “And as for myself,” answered the first, “I believe so firmly all that God has revealed, and what is taught us of the things of the faith, that I have no need to go begging in the Moon any motive for my belief. If we believe all that they tell us of the cities and of the riches of France, without ever having seen aught of them, why shall I not believe what God has revealed of Paradise, and that one day we shall rise again? It must be that those who come to teach us are more certain of this than of the things which they have seen in France; since it is only with a view to Paradise that they have abandoned their relatives, [74] their native land, and whatever there can be most agreeable in [Page 67] the world, in order to come here to drag out a wretched life with us.”
Father François Joseph Bressany,[iii] whom we had been expecting for four years, finally arrived here among the Hurons at the beginning of last Autumn. If he had not been taken captive by the Iroquois on his first voyage, he would already know the Huron language, and would be a trained workman. But it must be acknowledged that the providences of God are gracious. The cruelties which some Hurons who escaped saw him suffer among the Iroquois, and his mutilated hands , — the fingers having been cut off, — have rendered him a better Preacher than we, since the time of his arrival, and have served more’ than all our tongues to give a better conception than ever to our Huron Christians, of the truths of our faith.
“It must be,” said some, “that God is very gracious, and truly deserves that he alone should be obeyed, — since the sight of a thousand deaths, and. of tortures a thousand times more frightful than death, [75] cannot stop those who come to announce to us his word.” “If there were not a Paradise,” said others, “could there be found men who would traverse the fires and flames of the Iroquois, in order to withdraw us from Hell, and to lead us with them to Heaven ? ““No,” exclaimed several; “I can no longer be tempted regarding the truths of the faith. I can neither read nor write, but those fingers which I see cut off are the answer to all my doubts; for I cannot question that that man is well assured of what he comes to teach us, who, having experienced such horrible cruelties, has exposed himself to them for the second time, as cheerfully as if he had found. [Page 69] in his first voyage only delights along his way. Show us only thy wounds, “they add to the Father; “they tell us — more efficiently than thou wilt be able to do when thou shalt thoroughly know how to speak our language — that we are bound to serve and adore him of whom thou expectest one day that he will restore to thee both the life which thou hast so freely exposed for him, and the fingers which they burned for thee so cruelly, [76] while journeying here for his service.” It is thus that the providence of God draws his glory from our losses, and that the faith of these good Neophytes continues to grow stronger, spontaneously, finding from day to day new motives for believing the truths which we come to announce to them.
René Tsondihouanne, speaking one day of the most blessed Sacrament in an assembly of Christians, said to them: “Yes, my brothers; let us believe without any doubt that Jesus Christ is in the Host, — that he is near us, and within us, when we receive Communion. He has chosen to conceal himself, like a child newly conceived in the womb of its mother. If the mother did not believe that her child had life when it is concealed from her eyes, and if she had too much curiosity to see it before its term, never could she see it except dead, and she would cause her own death. Thus, whosoever shall refuse to believe, unless he see him, that Jesus Christ is in the Host, never will deserve to see him. Let us wait till he himself is willing to reveal himself; and then we shall behold him with as much joy as a mother sees her child whose time she has patiently awaited without precipitating it.”
[77] This thought much surprised me, hearing it [Page 71] from the lips of this good Christian; but what astonishes me most, and what would be incredible to me if I did not see it with my own eyes, is that I can assert, with truth, that such thoughts come for the most part spontaneously to these good people, without their ever having heard them from others. This makes me acknowledge that truly their faith is a work of God alone, and that his hand is not shortened in this new world, any more than in the rest of the earth.
In passing, I will say that our Christians find no difficulty in believing the mystery of the most blessed Sacrament. Doubts come to them almost exclusively concerning the truths of Paradise, of Hell, and of the Resurrection. “Since I believed that I shall rise again,” most of them say to us, “I have no difficulty in believing the remaining truths of our faith; he who can gather up the scattered portions of a body reduced to ashes, has nothing left that is impossible for him.”
As results of a faith so lively, one could not believe, without seeing it, how great is the innocence of most of these good Neophytes, [78] and the horror which they have for sin, — even to the extent that several often ask us whether it is a possible thing to believe a Paradise and a Hell, and withal to sin mortally. So, when having seen some Christian commit any notable fault, on coming to make us the report of it, instead of telling us that they have seen his sin, they say to us, “Alas! such a one has to-day lost the sight of Paradise and of Hell; he has forgotten his faith, and that there is a God; we have seen him reduced to the rank of the infidels, who believe that our faith is nothing but fables.” [Page 73]
It is about three years since a Captain, one of the most influential in all the country, named Maurice Hotiaouitaentonk, of the Village of la Conception, became a Christian. The whole country is astonished to see the courage and the constancy of this man in his faith, and still more, his innocence, which is preserved intact, in the midst of the continual opportunities which invite him to sin. Some Christians were asking him one day, how he could live in the midst of so many dangers, with so great innocence. “My brothers,” he said to them, “the river which goes down from here to Quebek is [79] nothing but rapids; and yet we make few shipwrecks on it, because we are always on our guard, and at each turn we fear to lose both our goods and our lives. The more a canoe is laden with precious wares, the more watchful one is to elude the rocks and the whirlpools which are there encountered. Since I have received holy Baptism, all my treasure is in my heart, and my faith is my most precious wealth. I dread sin more than we fear the shipwrecks; at each step I think that I have much to lose, and that I guide a feeble vessel, — but one, nevertheless, laden with the riches which come from Heaven. I foresee the dangers; I pray God that he assist me; I distrust myself, and confide in his goodness; and never shall I believe myself in safety, till I have arrived in Heaven. He who should have nothing or little to lose would fall quite easily.”
We began this year, during Lent, to expound to our Christians the Gospel for each day, and the fruits of it have appeared to us very noticeable. A good old man, having heard the Gospel about the adulterous woman, could repress neither [80] his cries nor [Page 75] his tears. Those present were moved thereat with a holy awe; but this good man, thinking of nothing but God, was giving himself up to his grief with as much freedom as if he had been alone. Having returned to himself, they asked him what thing had touched him. “The remembrance,” he answered, “of the sins which I committed before knowing God! Oh, why did I not know then that he saw me? never would I have had the heart to offend him. I have felt in the depth of my soul that he was saying the same to me as to the adulterous woman, — that he would not condemn me for what pertains to my past life; and how can one contain one’s tears, to see, after so many sins, that nevertheless, he is pleased to love me, and to show me mercy, as much as if I had employed all my life in his love?”
Another, having allowed himself to lapse inadvertently into some fault, came to find, as early as day- break, that ,one of our Fathers who was instructing him. “I beg thee to have pity on me,” he said to him, “and to efface my sin as soon as possible. I have spent the whole night in prayers and in tears, without having taken a moment of sleep. Those of my cabin who saw my sin have been witnesses of my [81] tears; but God, whom I have offended, has known those of my heart, which have been the most bitter; I hope that he will show me mercy.”
Having received absolution, he made a feast the same day, to which he invited the infidel Captains, his relatives, and all those who had been either the cause or witnesses of his fall. “I have assembled you,” he said to them,” in order to let you know the regrets which I feel for my fault; and that, if I have sinned, I have learned that a Christian can have no [Page 77] more rest, when he has offended God in order to please men. Know that during my life I will no longer obey you in aught that you or any one whosoever shall ask me, that is contrary to God’s law.”
Tears are so rare in these countries, with respect to what concerns men, that I do not remember, in almost nine years that I have lived among the Savages, to have seen one of them weep, — except in sentiments of piety, and with a contrition so keen, that it must be acknowledged that grace is *more powerful than all nature over a heart animated by God.
With reference to this spirit of contrition, I remember an admonition given to us by a good Christian, named Pierre Ahandation, [82] which has appeared to me worth consideration. We often recommend to them a prayer in which is included an act of contrition.” If you knew us in the depth of our souls, “said to us this good Christian, “you would not tell us that, in order to hate more perfectly our sins, it is necessary to use one prayer rather than another. It is not here as in France, where you make scruples of lying, even to &en; but here we are from all time accustomed to lies. Consequently, you ought to fear lest we lie to God himself, — telling him falsely that we detest our sins because they offend only his lovable goodness, although in fact our heart still has its attachment to sin; or, at least, we have more dread for the fire of Hell than we have genuine love for God. But, rather, without giving us any form of prayer, tell us that we must detest our sins with all our hearts and with all our strength; and that God does not look upon our lips, but that he penetrates into the depths of our souls, insomuch [Page 79] that none can deceive him. [83] Then, not contenting ourselves with a prayer which would issue from our lips, but employing all the efforts of our heart in hating, without dissimulation, the enormity of our sins, God, I believe, will show us mercy; and, compelling us to love him, he will give us the grace to love him in good earnest.”
Let us end this Chapter with the feelings of a mother on the death of a child who was her only treasure. “My God,” she said to him, “I cannot complain of you. A thousand times, I have offered you both my life and that of this my child, whom I love more than myself; if you took both the one and the other, I would see the end of my troubles, and death would be as sweet to me as it now seems to me bitter. But if you please to content yourself with the half of my offering, what can I say in my grief, save that you are the master, and that it is for us to obey ? It is enough for me that I live in the hope that one day you will show me mercy in Heaven, — that I may believe, from now on, that everything which can happen to me in this world, coming from you, can be only through love and for my good.”
“No,” said at other times this poor [84) afflicted mother, “I believe that God chooses to try me in this manner, so as to constrain me to have recourse to his goodness. Before the affliction, I was, as it were, drowsy, and often I forgot him; since then, I think only of him, because in him alone I find solace for my pains.” At other times, she said to herself at the height of her grief: “Since God foresaw that my daughter was to die before the age of discretion, why had he rendered her so lovable? Why did he not take her to himself as soon as she appeared in [Page 81] the world and had received Baptism? My grief would have been more tolerable, and my child would have been sooner in Heaven. But no doubt he preferred that my love should grow with her, so that, when she was taken away from me, it should be a blow that I would feel more keenly. After all, “’ she said, “may his blessed will be done; I desire that it be mine, and submit to it with all my heart.”
The sentiment of Joseph Taondechoren, the uncle of this poor afflicted mother, appeared to me no less excellent — when, after the death of two of his little children, he was asked in what state [85] was his heart. He answered that, since he had been a Christian, he had never felt the death of any of his relatives, — though, indeed, he felt their griefs and maladies, for which he could but have compassion; but that, as soon as he had seen them dead, his grief had entirely ceased, in the thought that they were going to be happy in Heaven; that they were getting the start in a journey which he hoped to make himself; and that, in the day of the Resurrection, God would unite them all together, that they might never more see themselves separated. [Page 83]
CHAPTER VI.
PROVIDENCE OF GOD OVER CERTAIN INDIVIDUALS.
Itbelongs only to God to make the choice of his elect, and we see in these countries, as much as in any place in the world, that his providence is so strong in its guidance, and so gentle in its execution, that none will perish of those whom he has. chosen to be the objects of his mercies, — even though they were alone in the midst of darkness, and in a [86] place destitute of all assistance.
A number of Iroquois captives, whom we baptized at the moment of their death, give us faith in this, when in the midst of the flames they have found life, and have seen themselves children of God, — happy in their misfortune, into which this divine providence had lovingly involved them, in order to draw their salvation from their destruction.
Seven or eight years ago, we had here baptized an Andastoëronnon (these are tribes of the Huron language, who live in Virginia, where the English have their trade).[iv] After that time, this man having returned to his own country, we supposed that his faith must have been stifled in the midst of the impiety which prevails there, since he had no longer any support in the midst of a nation wholly infidel, and so remote from us that not even have we been able, for five or six years, to learn any news of it. ’
This winter we have learned, from a Huron who has returned thence, that the faith of this man from [Page 85] a strange land is as vigorous as ever, — that he makes public profession of it, and continues in his duty as much as if he [87] lived among a people quite Christian. We gave him in his Baptism the name of Estienne; his surname is Arenhouta.
Father Jean de Brébeuf went, toward the end of Autumn, to a place named Tangouaen, where dwell some Algonquins, and where some cabins of Hurons have taken refuge, in order to live there more sheltered from incursions by the Iroquois; for it is a retired country, and surrounded on all sides by lakes, ponds, and rivers, which make this place inaccessible to the enemy. It was a journey extremely difficult for the Father, and for a young Frenchman who accompanied him thither : but their consolation much surpassed their hardships, when they found in the midst of those profound forests and those vast solitudes a little Church which they had gone to visit. By this, I mean a whole family of Christians, who find God in those woods, who live there in innocence, and who received these two guests as though sent from Heaven. The head of the family, his wife, and their children could not moderate their joy, to see that their cabin was becoming the house of God. All devoutly performed the duties [88] of Christians, received the Sacraments there, and esteemed as sacred all the moments of so blessed a visit. Moreover, that they might occupy those moments profitably, all their discourses were of nothing but Heaven; they propose their doubts to the Father, they torment him with love both by day and by night, they importune him piously; and, however fatigued he may be from a journey of five or six days, hardly will they allow him two or three hours of repose. [Page 87] “Echon,” they say to him (this is the name which the Hurons give the Father), “thou hast come here for our sake. We are famished; it is for thee to satisfy us, and to make us a feast. Thy sayings give us life; God speaks with thee, and he tells us in the heart what issues from thy lips.”
The Father, having spent some days in that solitude, was in haste to accelerate his return, fearing to be surprised by the ice and the winter which was beginning, and which in fact stopped him on the way, and placed him in danger of dying from both hunger and cold, and of perishing in the lakes and rivers which they had to cross. It was not without profound emotion, on both sides, that this parting took place; but the [89] Pastor who has a scattered flock is obliged not to stop in one place, — he owes his care equally to all his sheep. But in such encounters we have the consolation to know, and to see by actions, that God, who alone is the great master of the flock, supplies them in our absence; and that his graces and his illumination fail not to those who hear his voice, who have followed it, and who choose to be faithful to him.
I must report here among the providences of God that one which has appeared to us in calling to the faith two of the Athistaëronnon, — a nation of the Algonquin language, extremely populous, which we call the Nation of fire, who have never seen any European, and where the name of God has never penetrated. But it must needs be that this tribe should render homage to Jesus Christ, and offer him some first-fruits of what we hope that it will be one day, — wholly Christian. God alone knows the moments thereof, and we shall await them with patience, since [Page 89] it is his affair more than ours. Meanwhile, he has chosen for us, among a thousand, two young men of that nation, whom he has drawn from their country, and [90] whom he has called to the faith by ways all full of love. We have given to the one the name of Louys; the second is called Michel, from the name of the Mission of Saint Michel, in which he dwells. His surname is Exouaendaen.
They are both captives of war, who, having been taken when quite young, have been preserved alive, and have found in this country the blessing of the faith , — which makes them cherish their captivity more than they have ever felt love for their native land. Above all, the guidance of God over the second one has appeared to us lovable. He was touched to the heart from the first time that he heard mention of God; but, as those who had adopted him as a son were all infidels, we made no haste to speak to him so soon of Baptism, for fear that he were not devoutly enough inclined for it. He, besides, did not dare to ask it, esteeming himself unworthy of it, — or, at least, not realizing that, being a poor, forsaken one, we might wish to cast our eyes on him for a grace for which he saw that we showed so much esteem. Thereupon he falls sick with a languor that continued to consume him, and with a species [91] of paralysis, which obliged us to speak to him as to a man who must be prepared as soon as possible for Heaven. “These are,” he answered, “the desires of my heart: and if you wait until I die, to baptize me, gladly will I face death to-day, in order to see myself as soon as possible a Christian.”
His thoughts after his Baptism were no longer of [Page 91] aught but Heaven; he enjoyed only our mysteries, and no longer loved other conversations than those about God. His sickness kept continually increasing; and — in order to snatch from him, at the height of his miseries, the sole consolation which was left to him on earth — God permitted that the Father who had charge of that Mission was obliged to absent himself from it very long, without our being able to supply it by other means, — several of our Fathers having at the same time fallen sick, and the others being needed elsewhere. During all that time, this poor languishing man was so forsaken by the very parents who had adopted him, that very often he passed whole days without having anything to eat, sometimes not even water to quench his thirst during the [92] most excessive heats of the Summer. Even God, who often hides himself from those whom he loves the most, seemed to withdraw from him; or, at least, he did not choose that at that time his favors should be so perceptible to him.
In this desolation so extreme, a sadness seized him, which reduced him almost to despair, — having not even one man to whom he could complain of his trouble. Then he cast his eyes toward Heaven, and, remembering God, he said to him in a plaintive voice : “And you, too, my God, will you then abandon me?” At that same moment, he heard as it were a voice within, which said to him in answer: “Michel, do not let thyself be distressed on account of the miseries of thy body; remember that thy eternal dwelling is not here, but in Heaven.” At these words he felt himself all at once consoled, and all his cares dispelled; and he said afterward, to the Father who returned to visit him, that then indeed God had [Page 93] taken possession of his heart, that then he had begun truly to know him; and that, ever since, he faced his miseries only with joy, — remembering that indeed he would be happy in Heaven.
Especially he had conceived a very tender affection [93] toward the Blessed Virgin, and missed not a day in reciting his Rosary, even at the crisis of his disease.
Among the discourses that had been addressed to him, he had been greatly touched by the miraculous cures which occur at Nostre Dame de Laurette;[v] and he had been told that, in our house at Sainte Marie, we kept a very beautiful image of that Blessed Virgin. In consequence of that, he conceived a lively hope that, if he could drag himself thither, or be brought thither, he would there experience the mercies of God. He chooses his time one Summer day, and ventures to do what he had not undertaken for two years. He leaves his Village, and drags himself as best he can, now on all fours, anon with a staff; but strength soon fails him. He addresses himself to the Blessed Virgin; and, according as he continues to increase his prayers, he feels his strength come back, with an increase of constancy and courage. Finally, he arrives at our abode, having employed more than fifteen hours to accomplish three leagues of road.
Coming into our Chapel, his heart is all filled with joy. “Here,” [94] thinks he, “is the house of God: it is here that he will show me mercy.” But, nevertheless, he dares not ask for health. “My God,” he said, “you are all-powerful; do your will, and have no regard for mine. But I believe, and doubt not that you can cure me.” That was all his prayer, which he repeated without growing weary, [Page 95] with a fervor and respect which was imparted to all those who were watching him.
Be this as it may, the effect of his prayer made manifest to us that it had been heard, — he found himself perfectly cured; and — what he himself esteemed more than his cure — he was then so enlightened and so filled with God that never had he seen the faith so glorious, never had he seen so clearly the vanity of this life, never had he so highly esteemed the blessing which he possessed in being a Christian. Accordingly, it was for these inward graces that he rejoiced with us, and for these he thanked God more than for his health.
He returned to his own Village as early as the next day, without a stick and without aid, with a step and gait as firm as if he had never had any ailment; and since then his constancy, his zeal, his devotion, and the love [95] which he has for those who teach him, and who have taught him, he says, to know his God, — in a word, his exemplary life, truly worthy of a Christian, at an age during which nature has no inclination except for excess, — all that causes us to hope that he will not stop there, and that he will be able one day to be an Apostle for his own country, and carry a more divine fire into the nation of fire.
Some take their stand for the faith almost of themselves; others yield themselves up only after long resistance. Some long seek the entrance thereto, and with many pains; others will see themselves in Heaven by an unexpected encounter, and as if by chance. The providence of God is alike for all; but it appears to us more gracious in the case of the latter, because we see in it something inexpressibly more divine. [Page 97]
The conversion of an old man aged eighty years, of the Village of saint Joseph, is of this number. One of our Fathers, being in a cabin of infidels, hears the bell ring which was calling the Christians to Mass. “It is necessary,” he said, “that I go to prayers;” and adds, smiling, [96] “as for such a one” (naming this old man), “he has no desire to come thither.” “Why not?” answers the infidel: “come, now, let me go with thee!” The Father is surprised to see this man following him and presenting himself to enter with the Christians; but as he supposes that it is only a piece of merriment, he sends him away for another time. The old man patiently waits at the door, and, Mass ended, asks that they have pity on him, and that at least they teach him some word of prayer. At evening, he presents himself again, and continues without growing weary of the delays which were imposed upon him. Finally, his constancy enables him to find admission to the place intended for the Catechumens. The feast of Christmas having come, this man urges that he be baptized; the Father, wishing to try his faith still further, and to postpone his Baptism longer, sends him awa
