When at one time the Christianized Iroquois had remained at peace for the unusual period of six months, they almost forgot the neighborhood of deadly and implacable enemies; the missionaries could not prevail upon their careless disciples to take the necessary precautions for defense; they therefore redoubled their endeavors to sanctify, and prepare for the worst fate, those whom they could not preserve from it. In this respect the Indian proved perfectly docile, and became readily imbued with the sentiments suitable to his perilous position: he was, in consequence, soon reduced to a degree of indolence and indifference which has perhaps no parallel in history. Enthusiasts in the cause, the Jesuits, Charlevoix says, regarded "every simple Indian who perished as an additional intercessor above for them and their labor of charity."
Almost the only civilization, and permanent religious faith and practice, was established among the Indians by the labors of Protestant missionaries. They, from the beginning, sought to cherish habits of industry and forethought, and to give their converts a taste for the comforts of life. In every instance of successful effort in the cause of civilization, from the earliest time to the present day, the native population has increased in numbers, and become gradually exempt from that mysterious curse of decay which seems to cling to all the rest of their savage brethren.[157]
The descendants of the now neglected Jesuit converts are in no wise distinguishable from other savages. By the labors of the brotherhood no permanent impression was stamped upon the Indians; they yielded themselves up in a great measure to the guidance of their missionary, who, in return, taught them the outward form and ceremony of his faith, but nothing more. He was the mind and the soul of the community; he alone exercised forethought, guarded against danger, and measured out enjoyment; to a certain extent he improved the temporary circumstances of his disciples, but he robbed them of their native energy, and crushed all freedom of thought and of individual action: he being removed, the body remained deprived of all directing intellect: the condition of the Christianized but uninstructed savage soon became almost the lowest of human existence, till weakness, hardship, and famine swept him away from the scene of earthly suffering.
A very able writer on colonization ascribes the rapid decay in numbers of all Jesuit congregations, whether in the snows of Canada, or the burning sunshine of Paraguay, to the unnatural restraint in which they live. No vigilant superintendence, moral instruction, and physical well-being can compensate for the loss of freedom of action and the habit of self-guidance. The necessity of taking thought for himself, and living by the sweat of his brow, seems indispensable to the healthy action of man's nature. It can not be denied that many of these communities have held together for generations free from the corroding cares and corrupting vices of civilization; amply supplied (superstition apart) with religious instruction, and free from crime and punishment; and many may be tempted favorably to contrast the feeble innocence of this theocracy with the turbulent passions and vices which deform more advanced societies, and to forget that the man whose mind is thus enslaved is sunk below the level of his kind: his contentment and simplicity are apathy and ignorance, and his obedience is degradation.
Although the evident aim of the brotherhood is to paralyze intellectual life in others, nothing is left undone to give vitality to their own. The Jesuit regards his society as the soul or citadel of Catholic theocracy, and sacrifices to it every social tie, his free will, and his life: fired with its gigantic ambition and its pride, they become his faith and morals; his constant idea is the hope of his order's universal sway; in darkness and secrecy, with patience and invincible perseverance, he works on at the labor of centuries, devoted to the one great purpose, the fulfillment of which his dilating eye sees through the vista of unborn generations. Yet this wonderful organization holds the eternal passion of its deep heart riveted upon an object ever unattainable; for the Jesuit seeks not to rear the supremacy of his Church upon the firm foundations of virtue, truth, and reason; his earnest toil is wasted on the shifting quicksands of ignorance and superstition; the loftier the building, the more complete and extensive must be the ruin. Nevertheless, through failure and success alike, his faith's somber fire burns unceasingly upon the inward altar of his soul.
The merchants of Canada were chiefly of French, the retail dealers of native birth. From the nature of the colonial system, trade conferred neither wealth nor respect, except to the favored few enjoying monopolies. Every one in business was deeply involved by the depreciated bills of exchange upon the home government, and their only hope of ultimate payment rested upon the maintenance of the connection with the parent state. The trading classes may therefore be counted as generally hostile to the British power, but their importance was very small; like all the French race, they were more inclined to small trading transactions than those on a larger scale, and preferred enterprise to industry. It has been seen that one of the leading objects in the establishment of the colony was the trade in fur, especially that of the beaver; but the very abundance of this commodity ultimately proved of great detriment: the long and frequent journeys for the purpose of obtaining it gave the Canadians idle and wandering habits, which they could not shake off even when the low value of the now over-plentiful fur rendered their enterprises almost unprofitable.
The Canadian peasantry, or "habitans," were generally a healthy, simple, and virtuous race, but they were also extremely ignorant; indeed, the jealousy of their rulers would never suffer a printing-press to be erected in the country; few could read or write, and they were remarkably credulous of even the grossest fabrications which emanated from their superiors. Chiefly of Norman origin, they inherit many ancestral characteristics: litigious, yet impetuous and thoughtless; brave and adventurous, but with little constancy of purpose. The resemblance of the interior of a peasant's dwelling in Normandy, and on the banks of the St. Lawrence, was remarkable to a practiced eye: with the exception of the flooring—which in Canada is always of wood, and in France of stone—every thing is nearly the same; the chimney always in the center of the building, and the partitions shutting off the sleeping apartments at each end of the large room where the inhabitants dwell by day.
The French minister, Colbert,[158] in his instructions to M. de Talon and the Sieur de Courcelles, dwelt much on the dangerous practice of the early Canadian colonists building their residences without rule or order, wherever convenience suited, and neglecting the important point of settling near together for mutual assistance and defense. This system being obviously a serious obstacle to successful colonization, an edict was issued by the king that henceforth there should be no clearing of lands except in close neighborhood, and that the dwellings should all be built according to rule: this ordinance proved useless, as it would have been necessary for the habitans to commence the toilsome task of new clearing, and to abandon the lands where their fathers had dwelt. In 1685, however, the French government again renewed the attempt to alter this pernicious system, but Charlevoix says that "every one agreed that their neighbor was in danger, but no one could be got to fear for himself in particular." Even those who had been the victims of this imprudence were not rendered wiser by experience;[159] any losses that could be repaired were repaired as soon as possible, and those that were irreparable were speedily forgotten. The sight of a little present advantage blinded all the habitans to the future. This is the true savage instinct, and it appears to be inspired by the air of the country. In the present day an evil of exactly the opposite description exists; as population became denser, the settlements became continuous, and the holdings smaller. The habitans, who are social to a vice, can not be induced to separate and clear new lands on a fresher but remoter soil.
In 1689 the King of France was urgently entreated by Comte de Frontenac to make a great effort against the English at New York. His answer was that he could spare no forces from Europe for America, and that the Canadians, by settling in closer neighborhood, would be fully capable of defending themselves. Thus, while the king could not understand the difficulty of the habitans giving up their old and cherished homes to seek others closer together, on the other hand they could not be convinced of his inability to send supplies; and, indeed, the system advocated by the crown would have been more costly in property than the most vigorous aggressive campaign could have proved.
Before the continuous wars with the English colonies, and internal corruption, had exhausted the sap of Canada, no people in the world enjoyed a happier lot than the simple habitans; they were blessed in a healthy climate, in the absence of all endemic diseases, in a fertile soil and an unlimited domain. These advantages might at least have retained in the colony those to whom it gave birth, and who could not be ignorant of its advantages; but love of change, hatred of steady labor, and impatience of restraint, have always urged many of the young and energetic, the life-blood of the population, to seek the irresistible allurements of the distant prairie and of the forest.