Pendant qu'on appliquoit ces beaux remedes, les Peres s'addressoient à Dieu pour le salut de cette pauure ame: ils venoient voir cette pauure fille; mais les [38] parens ne vouloient pas permettre qu'on luy parlast de nostre creance, s'imaginant que le Baptesme nuisoit au corps, quoy qu'il en fust de l'ame. Attendez, disoient-ils, quand nostre fille n'en pourra plus, quand nous aurons cherché tous les remedes, dont nous nous seruons, s'ils ne reüssissent, nous vous permettrons de l'instruire. Les Peres voyans cela desisterent pour vn temps de visiter la malade, traictant de la guerison de son ame auec Dieu. La mere de la fille se sentit portée à desirer qu'on la vinst instruire, son mary y contrarioit. Enfin, Dieu qui tient les cœurs de tous les hommes entre ses mains, amolit ceux de ces Barbares, pour le bien de leur enfant; non seulement ils n'ont plus d'auersion des Peres, mais au contraire ils les font inuiter, leur donnant asseurance que leur fille les écouteroit volontiers. Les Peres y [264] volent aussi tost, le Pere Buteux prend la parole, déduit le mieux qu'il peut les principaux articles de nostre foy. Les parens, pour ayder le Pere qui n'a pas encore la perfection de la langue, & pour soulager leur enfant, reïteroient doucement, & expliquoient en termes plus significatifs [39] ce qu'on disoit à cette pauure ame, qui se montroit alterée de cette doctrine, comme vne terre seiche de la rosée du Ciel: on employe quelque temps à l'enseigner, tousiours auec le contentement des parens, & beaucoup plus de la malade. Pendant la nuict elle disoit par fois à sa mere, Ne sera-il pas bien tost iour, le Pere ne viendra-il pas de bon matin, puis s'addressant à Dieu, luy disoit. Mißi ka, khichitaien chaouerimitou, toy qui as tout fait, fais moy misericorde. Khiranau, oue ka nipien khita pouetatin khisadkihitin. Toy qui est mort pour nous, ie crois en toy, ie t'ayme, secours moy. Le Pere la visitant, elle luy disoit, Tu me réioüis quand tu me viens voir, i'ay retenu ce que tu m'as enseigné, & là dessus luy expliquoit fidelement. Le soir auant sa mort, vn sien oncle estant venu voir les Peres, & soupant auec eux, leur dit, Ma niepce est bien malade, vous la deuriez baptiser: on luy replique, qu'on la veut plainement instruire; Si toutesfois, luy dit-on, tu la voyois notablement baisser, appelle nous, & nous l'irons voir. Sur les dix ou onze heures de nuict, ce pauure Sauuage s'en vint au trauers de la neige, & d'vn [40] froid tres piquant, crier à pleine teste proche de l'habitation de nos François, qu'ils vinssent viste baptiser la malade, & qu'elle s'en alloit mourant. Les peres s'éueillent à ces cris bien étonnez, que ny les grands chiens qu'on détache la nuict, ny la rigueur du froid n'auoient point empesché ce bon homme de les venir appeller. Le sieur Nicolet, [266] & le sieur de Launay les accompagnerent, celuy cy fut le Parrain, & la nomma Marie, son pere & sa mere, quoy que Barbares, témoignerent receuoir du contentement de cette action, & remercierent les Peres & nos François, d'auoir pris la peine de sortir pendant vne nuict si fascheuse, que le sieur Nicolet s'en trouua mal. La pauure fille n'eut qu'autant de paroles, qu'il en falloit pour accepter le baptesme, qu'elle auoit tant desiré: car si tost qu'elle l'eut receu elle entre en l'agonie, & bien tost apres s'en alla en Paradis, auec l'étolle d'innocence, dont le Ciel la venoit de couurir. Son oncle la voyant morte, fit appeller le Pere Buteux, & luy dit, Vous n'aymez pas seulement pendant la vie, mais encore apres la mort, ma niepce est à vous, enterrez la à vostre [41] mode. Faites vne grande fosse; car mon frere à qui la tristesse a dérobé la parole, veut loger auec elle son petit bagage: ils vouloient enterrer auec cette fille deux chiens, & plusieurs autres choses: pour les chiens, on leur dit que les François ne seroient pas bien aises qu'on logeast auec eux de si laides bestes; Permets nous donc, dirent-ils, de les enterrer prés de vostre Cimetiere; car la defuncte les aymoit, & c'est nostre coustume de donner aux morts, ce qu'ils ont aymé ou possedé pendant leur vie. On combat tant qu'on peut cette superstition, qui se va abolissant tous les iours; neantmoins on tolere en ces premiers commencemens beaucoup de choses, qui se détruiront d'elles mesmes auec le temps. Si on refusoit à ces pauures ignorans, de mettre dans la fosse de leurs trespassez leur petit equipage, pour aller en l'autre vie, disent-ils, ils nous refuseroient aussi l'abord de leurs malades, & ainsi plusieurs ames se perdroient, qu'on va petit à petit recueillant, [268] iusques à ce que les iours de la grande moisson viennent. Ils enueloperent donc le corps mort de plusieurs robes, ils luy donnerent ses affiquets, ses [42] braueries, quãtité de porcelaine, qui sont les diamans & les perles du païs, & de plus on mit dans la fosse deux auirons, & deux grands sacs remplis de leurs richesses, & de diuers outils ou instrumens, dont se seruent les filles & les femmes. Pour conclusion le pere de cette fille tant aymée, voyant l'honneur qu'on rendoit à son enfant, & comme on luy auoit fait faire vn beau cercueil, ce qui plaist infiniment à ces Barbares, il se ietta sur le col du Pere Buteux, & luy dit Nikanis, mon bien-aymé, en verité ie cognois que tu m'ayme, & tous vous autres qui portez cét habit, vous cherissez nostre Nation. Puis apostrophant son enfant; Ma fille que tu es heureuse d'estre si bien logée: cét homme est l'vn des principaux de sa nation, sa femme s'est fait Chrestienne, comme nous dirons en son lieu, nous esperons qu'il mourra Chrestien, aussi bien que ses plus proches. Ainsi soit-il.
While they were making use of these fine remedies, the Fathers 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 [270] 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 [272] 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 [274] 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 [276] 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 [278] 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 [280] 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.
On the twenty-eighth and twenty-ninth, two sisters were enrolled in the Catalogue of the children of God. The smaller, about two years old, now sings his greatness among the Choirs of the Angels. The elder followed her, a short time afterward. She was about sixteen years old when she received a new birth in Jesus Christ; [49] having fallen sick, it was not hard to persuade her to become a Christian. It seems that she had already possessed the faith, before the Fathers talked with her; her brother was in the habit of visiting our House to instruct our Fathers in his language; and, as they often spoke to him of our Mysteries, he related to his sister what he had learned. He was happier than the Fathers themselves in scattering this sacred seed; although it has not been observed to have as yet germinated in his soul, it has borne flowers and fruit in the heart of his sister. When she was asked during her sickness if she did not wish to be baptized, she answered that she greatly desired it. The Fathers, intending to instruct her, found that she knew enough to receive holy Baptism, which surprised and consoled them. So she was called Jeanne, receiving with this name so great an abundance of grace, that it seemed as if the Son of God took particular pleasure in this new Spouse. Father Buteux, seeing her at her departure to go into the woods with her mother and the other Savages, said to her, "Farewell, my daughter; remember that you are now [50] a friend of God, and that if you die he will take you to his house, filled with all blessings." "Farewell, my Father," she replied, "I shall see you no more; but it matters little if I die, since I am to go to such a good place." She said this with so deep a sense of piety, that tears came to the eyes of the two Fathers, who were carried away at seeing a little Barbarian speak like an Angel of Paradise. "But what can we give you, Jeanne, since you are going to leave us for so long a time?" they said to her. "If you have any raisins, give me a few; this will be the last time you will relieve me in my sickness, for I am going to die in the woods. But I believe that I will go to Heaven. Do you think so, my Father?" "Yes, my daughter, you will go there, if you continue in the faith." "Be assured," she said, "that I believe in God, and that I will believe in him all my life." They gave her all the raisins they had left, which were not many,—the few that had been sent them having already been distributed to many other invalids. When they came to tie this poor girl with her little sister, both newly baptized, upon the long sledges, to take them [51] into these great forests, it seemed to the Fathers like tearing out their hearts; for these poor people had no other food than a little bread that they gave them; their dinner and supper depended upon the providence of God, their hostelries were the snow and trees, and a little bark. A strong Northwester, the coldest wind of these Countries, blew upon these poor invalids, and yet they went away as contented as if they were about to enter a promised land. "Oh, how disgusted I was with myself," writes the Father who sent me these memoirs, "when I saw this beautiful sight! These people condemned me of cowardice, for not placing my confidence in God as strongly as they do theirs in their bows and arrows, and in not doing from virtue what these Barbarians do from nature."