were addressing themselves to God for the salvation of this poor
soul; they came to see the wretched girl, but her [38] parents
would not permit them to talk to her about our belief, imagining
that Baptism injured the body, whatever it might do for the soul.
"Wait," said they; "when our daughter is completely exhausted, when
we have tried all the remedies of which we can avail ourselves,--if
they do not succeed, we will permit you to instruct her." The
Fathers, upon hearing this, desisted for a while from visiting
the sick girl, negotiating for the recovery of her soul with God.
The mother of the girl felt inclined to have her instructed, her
husband was opposed to this. At last, God, who holds the hearts
of all men in his hands, softened those of these Barbarians, for
the good of their child. Not only were they no longer averse
to the Fathers, but on the contrary they had them invited there,
assuring them that their daughter would listen to them willingly.
The Fathers immediately fly thither; Father Buteux begins to talk,
presenting as well as he can the principal articles of our faith.
The parents, to assist the Father, who is not yet well versed in
the language, and to soothe their child, repeat softly and explain
in clearer terms [39] what was said to this poor soul, which showed
itself as thirsty for this doctrine as the dry earth for the dew
from Heaven; some time was employed in instructing her, the parents
always contented, and the patient still more so. During the night,
she would sometimes say to her mother, "Will it not soon be day?
Will the Father not come early in the morning?" Then addressing
God, she would say to him: _Missi ka khichitaien chaouerimitou_,
"Thou who hast made all, have pity upon me." _Khiranau, oue ka
nipien khita pouetatin khisadkihitin._ "Thou who hast died for us,
I believe in thee, I love thee, help me." When the Father visited
her, she said to him, "Thou givest me joy when thou comest to see
me; I have remembered what thou hast taught me," and thereupon she
explained it to him accurately. The evening before her death, one
of her uncles, having come to see the Fathers and remaining to sup
with them, said, "My niece is very sick, you ought to baptize her."
They replied that they wished to instruct her sufficiently. "If,
however," they said to him, "thou see her perceptibly weakening,
call us, and we will go and see her." At ten or eleven o'clock at
night, this poor Savage came through the snow and the [40] piercing
cold, and cried out in a loud voice when he neared the French
settlement, that they should come quickly and baptize the sick
girl, for she was going to die. The fathers, awakened by these
cries, were indeed astonished that neither the great dogs that
are let loose at night, nor the rigor of the cold, had prevented
this good man from coming to call them. Sieur Nicolet and sieur
de Launay[69] accompanied them; the latter was Godfather and gave
her the name Marie. Her father and mother, although Barbarians,
showed that they were pleased at this act, and thanked the Fathers
and our Frenchmen for having taken the trouble to come out on a
night so bad that sieur Nicolet was made sick by it. The poor
girl had only words enough to accept the baptism which she had so
much desired; for, as soon as she had received it, she entered
into the pangs of death, and soon after went to Paradise, clad in
the robes of innocence with which Heaven had just covered her.
When her uncle saw that she was dead, he had Father Buteux called
and said to him, "You love, not only during life, but even after
death; my niece belongs to you, bury her in your [41] way. Make a
big grave, for my brother, whom grief has stricken dumb, wishes to
place with her her little belongings." They wished to bury with
this girl two dogs, and several other things. As to the dogs, they
were told that the French would not be pleased if such ugly beasts
were placed among them. "Permit us, then," said they, "to bury
them near your Cemetery; for the dead girl loved them, and it is
our custom to give to the dead what they loved or possessed when
they were living." We do all we can to oppose this superstition,
which is every day becoming less general; nevertheless, one
tolerates, in these first beginnings, many things which in time
will disappear of themselves. If these poor ignorant people were
refused the privilege of placing in the graves of their dead their
few belongings, to go with them to the other life, they say, they
would also refuse to allow us to approach their sick; and thus many
souls would be lost which we are gathering in little by little,
until the days of the great harvest come. So they enveloped the
dead body in several robes; they gave her her trinkets, [42] her
ornaments, a quantity of porcelain, which is the diamonds and
pearls of this country;[70] and besides this they put in the grave
two paddles, and two large bags filled with their wealth, and with
different utensils or instruments which the girls and women use.
Finally, the father of this girl, so dearly beloved,--seeing the
honor they were showing his child, and that they had made her a
beautiful coffin, a thing which gives infinite pleasure to these
Barbarians,--threw himself upon Father Buteux's neck and said,
"_Nikanis_, my well-beloved, in truth I recognize that thou lovest
me, and that all of you, who wear this gown, cherish our Nation."
Then apostrophizing his child: "My daughter, how happy thou art to
be so well lodged!" This man is one of the principal men of his
nation; his wife has become a Christian, as we shall relate in the
proper place. We hope that he will die a Christian as well as his
family. So may it be.
Le vingtiesme du mesme mois Dieu fit paroistre sa bonté en la
conuersion & au Baptesme d'vn Sauuage, dont nos Peres sembloient quasi
auoir desesperé: ce ieune homme estant malade, le Pere Buteux [43]
l'alla visiter: comme il y alloit grand nombre de personnes dans sa
cabane, il l'inuita de venir faire vn tour en nostre maison, si sa
maladie luy permettoit: il s'y transporte incontinent, apres quelques
discours le Pere le iette sur les articles de nostre creance, mais
auec peu de succés: car ayant espousé la fille d'vn des plus grands
Charlatans du païs, il n'estoit pas pour se rendre à la premiere
semonce: comme on le pressoit sur les biens de la vie future, s'il
n'en vouloit pas iouïr, il repartit, qu'il ne pouuoit pas croire
cela; car mon ame, disoit-il, apres ma mort n'aura point d'esprit, &
par consequent ne sera pas capable de ces biens. Comment sçais tu,
luy fit le Pere, que les ames apres leur trespas sont stupides, &
sans connoissance; deux de nos hommes, replique-il, sont retournez
autresfois apres leur mort, & l'ont dit à ceux de nostre nation. Ces
ames qui retournerent auoient-elles de l'esprit? Non, fit-il. Tu te
trompes, dit le Pere, car c'est auoir de l'esprit, de cognoistre qu'on
n'a point d'esprit; mais laissons cette subtilité, est-ce pas auoir
de l'esprit que d'estre bon chasseur? iamais les Sauuages ne nieront
[44] cette proposition, car leur plus grande Philosophie & Theologie
n'est pas en leur teste, mais en leurs pieds. Or est-il, poursuiuit le
Pere, qu'il y a des ames des Sauuages qui chassent brauement aux ames
des Castors & des Eslans, donc elles ont de l'esprit. A cét argument
vn peu trop pressant pour vn Sauuage il ne respondit autre chose, sinõ
que puis que ses gens n'alloient point au Ciel, qu'il n'y vouloit point
aller; Vous autres, disoit-il, vous asseurez que vous allez là haut,
allez y donc à la bonne heure, chacun aime sa nation, pour moy i'iray
trouuer la mienne. Le Pere voyant bien qu'il s'opiniastreroit chãge
de discours, l'interroge sur son mal; C'est, respond-il, vn meschant
Algonquain qui m'a procuré cette maladie qui me tient dans le corps,
pource que m'estant fasché contre luy, la peur qu'il eut que ie ne le
tuasse l'a induit à traitter de ma mort auec le Manitou. Et comment
sçais-tu cela? I'ay faict consulter le Manitou, qui m'a dit que ie me
hastasse de faire des presens aux _Manitousiouekhi_, ce sont leurs
Iongleurs, & qu'il preuiẽ droit mon ennemy, luy ostant la vie, & par
ainsi que ie guerirois: mais [45] mõ malheur est que ie n'ay plus
rien, i'ay donné ma Pourcelaine & mes Castors, & à faute de pouuoir
continuer ces presens il faut que ie meure. Voila l'vnique vtilité de
l'art de ces Iongleurs, c'est qu'ils tirent tout ce qu'ils peuuent des
pauures malades, & quand ils n'ont plus rien ils les abandonnent. Les
Iaponois ont des erreurs toutes semblables, ils croyent que les pauures
ne pouuans rien donner aux Bonzes, ne sçauroient aller en Paradis.
Les Chrestiens sont obligez d'adorer & de recognoistre la bonté de
leur Dieu. Que la foy a de clarté pour estre vn flambeau obscur, &
que nostre creance pour estre releuée par dessus les forces de la
nature, s'accorde bien auec la raison! Les Theologiens disent bien à
propos, qu'il faut auoir _piam motionem_, pour donner consentement
aux propositions de nostre foy; il faut que la volonté s'amolisse, &
qu'elle quitte sa dureté naturelle; ce qui se fait par vn doux soufle
ou mouuement du S. Esprit, lequel nous induit à croire. Ie voy tous
les iours des hommes conuaincus sur cette verité, que nostre creance
est bonne, qu'elle est saincte, qu'elle est conforme à la raison, &
apres [46] tout cela, ne voyant aucune conclusion de ces premices, ie
m'escrie, Qu'auons nous faict à Dieu pour nous auoir donné la Foy, qui
a tant de peine d'entrer en l'ame de ces pauures Sauuages! Mais pour
retourner à nostre ieune homme, les Peres auoient comme desesperé de
son salut; neantmoins comme la conuersion d'vne ame depend de celuy qui
est tout-puissant, ils ne laissoient pas de le visiter, pour luy donner
de fois à autre quelque crainte de l'enfer, ou quelque esperance de la
vie eternelle. En fin ce pauure ieune homme fut touché tout à coup, cet
entendement plein de tenebres commence à voir le iour, & sa volonté
deuient soupple & obeyssante aux volontez de Dieu, comme vn enfant
bien né aux desirs de ses parens. Les Peres entrans certain iour en sa
Cabane il leur fait present d'vn morceau d'Eslan qu'on luy auoit donné:
le Pere Buteux luy dit, Nous ne venons pas icy pour receuoir, mais pour
te donner; nous ne cherchons pas tes biens, mais nous te voulons donner
ceux du Ciel; si tu voulois croire en Dieu que tu serois heureux! Oüy,
dit-il i'y veux croire, & ie veux aller auec luy; il disoit [47] cela
les mains iointes, les yeux esleuez au Ciel, d'vn accent si deuot, auec
vne posture si composée, que les Peres resterent tous remplis de ioye &
d'estonnement, voyant que Dieu en fait plus en vn moment que tous les
hommes en cent ans; aussi est-il le Dieu des cœurs. Voila ce cœur de
pierre changé en vn cœur de chair, il escoute auidemẽt ce qu'il croioit
déja, il est tout plein de regrets de ses resistances, il ne peut
assez admirer la bonté de celuy qui l'a si doucement vaincu. Les Peres
l'ayant veu si bien disposé, offrent pour luy le sacré sainct sacrifice
de la Messe, & apres vne bonne instruction luy changerent en fin le nom
sauuage d'_Amiskoueroui_ au nom de Nicolas, qui luy fut donné au sainct
Baptesme. Dieu sçait prẽdre son temps quand il luy plaist. A l'heure
qu'il fut touché, qu'il fut baptisé, & qu'il mourut, certains gauffeurs
& badins qui demeuroient en sa Cabane, & qui auroiẽt faict leur
possible pour le détourner du Christianisme estoient allez a la chasse,
ils retournerent iustement deux heures apres sa mort, bien estonnez de
ce qui c'estoit passé: mais _quis vt Deus_? Qui pourra détourner la
bonté de Dieu, [48] non plus que ses foudres? _Non est qui se abscondat
à calore eius._ Il n'y a cœur de bronze qui ne se liquefie, quand Dieu
le veut brusler.
On the twentieth of the same month, God showed his goodness in
the conversion and Baptism of a Savage, of whom our Fathers had
almost despaired. This young man was sick, and Father Buteux [43]
went to visit him. As a great many people were going into his
cabin, he invited him to make a visit to our house, provided his
illness would permit it; he went there immediately. After some
conversation, the Father reverted to the articles of our belief,
but with little success; for, having married the daughter of one
of the greatest Charlatans of the country, he would not surrender
at the first summons. When the blessings of the future life were
urged upon him, and he was asked if he did not wish to enjoy them,
he answered that he could not believe those things. "For," said
he, "after my death my soul will have no intelligence, and hence
will not be capable of enjoying these blessings." "How dost thou
know," replied the Father, "that souls, after their departure from
this life, are without sensibility and knowledge?" "Two of our
men," he answered, "once returned, after their death, and told
this to the people of our nation." "Did those souls that returned
have any intelligence?" "No," he replied. "Thou art mistaken,"
said the Father, "for it is intelligence to know that one has not
intelligence; but let us leave these subtleties. Does it require
intelligence to be a good hunter?" The Savages will never deny
[44] this proposition, for their greatest Philosophy and Theology
is not in their heads, but in their feet. "Now is it true,"
continued the Father, "that there are souls of Savages that are
bravely hunting the souls of Beavers and of Elks? Then they must
have intelligence." To this argument, a little too forcible for a
Savage, he answered nothing, except, that as his people were not
going to Heaven, he did not wish to go there. "You people," said
he, "are sure of going up yonder. Well and good, go there, then;
each one loves his own people; for my part, I shall go and find
mine." The Father, seeing clearly that he would be obstinate,
changed the subject and asked him about his disease. "It is," he
replied, "a wicked Algonquain who has given me this disease which
sticks in my body, because I was angry at him; and his fear that
I would kill him induced him to bargain for my death with the
Manitou." "And how dost thou know that?" "I have had the Manitou
consulted, and he told me I should make haste and give presents
to the _Manitousiouekhi_,"--these are their Jugglers,--"and that
he would forestall my enemy, taking his life, and that thus I
would be cured; but [45] my misfortune is that I have nothing
more,--I have given my Porcelain and my Beavers; and, because I
cannot continue these presents, I must die." So the only use to
which these Jugglers put their art is to draw what they can from
poor sick people; and, when they have nothing more, they abandon
them. The Japanese have similar errors. They believe that, as the
poor can give nothing to the Bonzes, they cannot go to Paradise.
Christians are obliged to adore and to acknowledge the goodness
of their God. What light there is in faith, though it be a dark
lantern; and how well our belief, though it may be elevated above
the forces of nature, conforms to reason! Theologians say very
truly that it is necessary to have the _piam motionem_ in order
to consent to the propositions of our faith; the will must be
softened and must give up its natural hardness. This is done by the
gentle breathing or stirring of the Holy Spirit, which leads us
to believe. I daily see men who are convinced of this truth, that
our belief is good, that it is holy, that it conforms to reason;
and, after [46] all that, seeing no conclusions drawn from these
premises, I exclaim, "What have we done to God that he gives us
this Faith, which enters with so much difficulty into the souls of
these poor Savages!" But to return to our young man. The Fathers
had, as it were, despaired of his salvation; nevertheless, as the
conversion of a soul depends upon him who is all-powerful, they
did not cease to visit him, to impart to him, from time to time,
some fear of hell, or some hope of eternal life. At last, this
poor young map was touched all at once; this understanding full
of darkness began to see the day; and his will became supple and
obedient to the will of God, like a dutiful child to the desires of
its parents. One day, when the Fathers entered his Cabin, he made
them a present of a piece of Elk-meat which had been given him;
Father Buteux said to him, "We do not come here to receive, but to
give to thee; we are not seeking thy goods, but wish to give thee
those of Heaven; if thou wouldst believe in God, how happy thou
wouldst be!" "Yes," said he, "I wish to believe, and I wish to go
to him." He said [47] this with his hands clasped, his eyes raised
to Heaven, with an accent so devout and a manner so composed, that
the Fathers were filled with joy and astonishment, seeing that God
does more in a moment than all men can do in a hundred years; he is
indeed the God of hearts. Behold this heart of stone changed into a
heart of flesh. He listens eagerly to what he already believes; he
is full of regret at his former opposition; he cannot sufficiently
admire the goodness of him who has so gently vanquished him. The
Fathers, seeing him so well disposed, offered for him the holy
sacrifice of the Mass; and, after thorough instruction, finally
changed the savage name _Amiskoueroui_ to the name Nicolas, which
was given to him in holy Baptism. God knows how to take his time
when he pleases. At the time he was converted, when he was baptized
and when he died, certain scoffers and triflers who lived in his
Cabin, and who would have done all they could to divert him from
Christianity, had gone to the chase; they returned exactly two
hours after he died, very much astonished at what had taken place;
but _quis ut Deus_? Who can turn away the goodness of God, [48]
any more than his thunderbolts? _Non est qui se abscondat à calore
ejus._ There is no heart of bronze that will not melt when God
wishes to heat it.
Le vingt-cinquiesme, iour de la Conuersion de sainct Paul, vn ieune
Sauuage fut nommé Paul, son pere luy procura dans sa maladie, ce
qu'il ne prenoit pas pour soy dans la santé: tant s'en faut qu'il se
monstrast fasché qu'on instruisist son fils, âgé de quinze à seize ans,
qu'au contraire il l'exhortoit à prester l'oreille aux Peres, & par
fois les venant visiter luy-mesme, & les ayant ouy parler des choses de
l'autre vie, il racontoit par apres à ses enfans ce qu'il auoit apris,
n'ayant pas assez de courage d'embrasser & professer les veritez qu'il
aprouuoit en son cœur. Les respects humains font bien du mal par tout.
On the twenty-fifth, the day of saint Paul's Conversion, a young
Savage was named Paul. His father secured for him in his sickness
what he did not take for himself in health. So far was he from
showing anger at the instruction given his son, a boy of fifteen
or sixteen, that on the contrary, he urged him to listen to the
Fathers; and having sometimes visited them himself, and having
heard them speak of the realities of the other life, he related
afterwards to his children what he had learned, not having enough
courage to embrace and profess the truths that he approved in his
heart. Fear of the world does a great deal of harm everywhere.
Le vingt-huictiesme & vingt-neufiesme, deux sœurs ont esté enrollées
au Catalogue des enfans de Dieu. La plus petite, âgée de deux ans,
chante maintenant ses grandeurs parmy les Chœurs des Anges. L'aisnée
l'a suiuie quelque temps apres, elle auoit enuiron seize ans, quand
elle prit vne nouuelle naissance en Iesus-Christ, [49] estant tombée
malade, il ne fut pas difficile de luy persuader qu'elle se fist
Chrestienne. Il semble qu'elle auoit déja la foy deuant que les Peres
luy parlassent; son frere frequentoit en nostre Maison, instruisant nos
Peres en sa langue, & comme on luy parloit souuent de nos Mysteres,
il racontoit à sa sœur ce qu'il auoit appris. Il estoit plus heureux
iettãt cette semence sacrée, que les Peres mesmes: car on n'a point
remarqué qu'elle ait encore germé en son ame, & elle a porté des
fleurs & des fruicts dans le cœur de sa sœur: laquelle interrogée en
sa maladie, si elle ne vouloit pas estre baptisée, répondit, qu'elle
en auoit vn grand desir. Les Peres la voulans instruire, trouuerent
qu'elle en sçauoit assez pour receuoir le sainct Baptesme, ce qui les
étonna & consola: Elle fut donc nommée Ieanne, receuant auec ce nom si
grande abondance de grace, qu'il sembloit que le Fils de Dieu prist
vn plaisir particulier en cette nouuelle Espouse. Le Pere Buteux la
voyant sur son depart pour s'en aller dans les bois auec sa mere, & les
autres Sauuages, luy dit, Adieu ma fille, souuenez vous que vous estes
maintenant [50] amie de Dieu, & que si vous mourez, il vous menera dans
sa maison, remplie de tout bon-heur. Adieu mon Pere, repartit-elle, ie
ne vous verray plus; mais il importe peu que ie meure, puisque ie dois
aller en si bon lieu. Elle dit cela auec vn tel sentiment de pieté,
que les larmes en vindrent aux yeux des deux Peres, rauis de voir vne
petite Barbare, parler en Ange de Paradis. Mais que vous pourrions
nous donner, Ieanne, puis que vous nous quittez pour vn si long-temps?
luy dirent-ils. Si vous auez du raisin donnez m'en vn peu, ce sera la
derniere fois que vous me soulagerez en ma maladie, car ie m'en vais
mourir dans les bois: mais ie croy que i'iray au Ciel; à vostre auis,
mon Pere? Oüy ma fille, vous y irez, si vous perseuerez en la foy.
Asseurez vouz, dit-elle, que ie croy en Dieu, & que i'y croiray toute
ma vie. Ils luy donnerent tout le raisin qu'ils auoient de reste, qui
n'estoit pas grande chose, le peu qu'on leur auoit enuoyé, ayant déja
esté distribué à beaucoup d'autres malades. Quand on vint à lier cette
pauure fille auec sa petite sœur, toutes deux nouuellement baptisées,
sur leurs longues traisnes, pour les mener [51] dans ces grandes
forests, il sembloit aux Peres qu'on leur arrachast le cœur: car ces
pauures gens n'auoient autres viures qu'vn peu de pain qu'ils leur
donnerent; leur disner & leur souper estoit en la prouidence de Dieu,
leurs hostelleries la neige & les arbres, & vn peu d'écorce. Vn grand
Nordoüest, qui est le vent le plus froid de ces Contrées, souffloit sur
ces pauures malades, & cependant ils s'en alloient tous aussi contens,
comme s'ils eussent deu entrer dans vne terre de promission. O que
ie me voulois de mal, m'écrit le Pere qui m'a enuoyé ces memoires,
voyant ce beau spectacle! ces gens me condamnoient de pusillanimité,
ne iettant pas si fortement ma confiance en Dieu, qu'ils la iettent
en leurs arcs & en leurs fleches, & ne faisant par vertu, ce que ces
Barbares font par nature.