lage was the public square, formed by the church, the habitation of the missionaries, the arsenal, the public granary, the House of Refuge, and the inn for strangers. The churches.were handsome and highly ornamented; the walls were covered with pictures separated by festoons of natural foliage. On festivals, perfumed waters were sprinkled in the nave and the sanctuary was strewed with the flowers of lianas.

The cemetery, situated behind the church, formed an oblong square enclosed with walls about breast high. It was bordered all round by an alley of palm-trees and cypresses, and intersected longitudinally by other alleys of lemon and orange-trees. That in the middle led to a chapel where was celebrated every Monday a mass for the dead.

From the end of the streets of the village, avenues of the finest and largest trees led to other chapels in the country, and which could be seen in the distance. These religious monuments served as boundaries to the processions on occasions of extraordinary solemnity.

On Sunday, after the mass, the ceremonies of betrothing and marriage were performed, and in the evening the catechumens and infants were baptized in the same manner as in the primitive church, with three immersions, with singing, and the use of the white costume.

The

The principal festivals were announced by extraordinary parade. On the preceding evening bonfires were kindled, the streets were illuminated, and the children danced in the public square. Next morning, at daybreak, the soldiers appeared under arms. war-cacique who headed them was mounted on a stately charger, and proceeded under a canopy borne by two horsemen at his side. At noon, after divine service, an entertainment was given to such strangers as happened to be at the place, and a small quantity of wine was allowed to be used. In the evening there was the race of the ring, at which the two fathers were present to deliver the prizes to the victors; and as soon as it was dark they gave the signal for retiring, at which all these happy and peaceful families repaired to their homes to enjoy the sweets of repose.

In the midst of these wild forests, and among this ancient people, the celebration of the feast of the Blessed Sacrament presented an extraordinary spectacle. The Jesuits allowed them to

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dance, after the Greek fashion, as they had nothing to fear for 'the morals of Christians who were so remarkable for their innocence. We shall here give the description which Father Charlevoix has left us of this ceremony:—

"I have remarked that there was nothing very valuable to be seen at this celebration. All the beauties of simple nature are brought into requisition, with a variety that presents it in the most favorable light. Nature here, if I may so speak, is all life: for, on the flowers and branches of the trees which form the triumphal arches under which the Blessed Sacrament is carried, birds of every variety of plumage are seen hovering, confined by long cords, which give them the appearance of being perfectly free and of coming of their own accord to mingle their notes with the sacred song of the musicians and the people, and to praise in their own way that God whose providence never fails them. . . .

"At certain distances are seen tigers and lions, securely chained, so as not to disturb the celebration, and beautiful fishes sporting in large basins of water. In a word, every species of living creature is made to assist at the ceremony, as if deputed to render homage to the Man-God in his august sacrament.

"The solemnity of this festival is further enhanced by the introduction of whatever is used by the people in times of great rejoicing. The first-fruits of the harvest are offered to the Lord, and the grain which is to be sown is presented to receive his blessing. The warbling of the birds, the roaring of the lions, the howling of the tigers, all is heard without confusion, and forms a concert unique in its kind. . .

"As soon as the procession returns to the church, all the eatables that were exposed during the ceremony are presented to the missionaries, who send the choicest portion of them to the sick, and distribute the rest among the people of the village. In the evening there is a display of fireworks, which takes place on all the great solemnities and on days of public rejoicing."

Under a government so paternal and so analogous to the simple and pompous nature of the savage, it is not surprising that the new Christians were the purest and the happiest of men. The change which took place in their habits and morals was a miracle in the eyes of the New World. That spirit of cruelty and vengeance, that subjection to the grossest vices which characterize the

Indian tribes, were transformed into a spirit of meekness, patience, and chastity. We may form some idea of their virtues from an expression of the Bishop of Buenos Ayres in a letter to the king of Spain :-"Sire," said he, "among those numerous tribes of Indians, who are naturally prone to all sorts of vice, there prevails so much innocence that I do not think they ever commit a mortal sin."

In these communities of Christian savages there were neither lawsuits nor quarrels. Even the distinctions of mine and thine were unknown; for, as Charlevoix observes, he possesses nothing of his own who is always ready to share the little he has with those who are in want. Abundantly supplied with all the necessaries of life, governed by the same persons who had rescued them from barbarism and whom they justly regarded as a kind of divinities, indulging the best feelings of nature in the bosom of their families and among their countrymen at large, enjoying the advantages of civilized life without having ever quitted the desert, and the pleasures of society without having lost those of solitude, these Indians might boast of a happiness unprecedented in the world. Hospitality, friendship, justice, and the tender virtues, flowed naturally from their hearts under the influence of religion, as the ripe fruit of the olive falls by the action of the winds. Muratori has in one single word portrayed this Christian commonwealth, by entitling the description he has given of it Il Cristianesimo felice.

In perusing this history, we seem to have but one desirenamely, to cross the ocean, and, far distant from troubles and revolutions, to seek an obscure life in the huts of these savages and a peaceful grave under the palm-trees of the cemeteries. But no deserts are so solitary nor seas so vast as to secure man from the afflictions which pursue him. Whenever we delineate the felicity of a nation, we must at last come to the catastrophe; amid the most pleasing pictures, the heart of the writer is harrowed by this melancholy reflection, which is incessantly recurring-All this is no more. The missions of Paraguay are destroyed; the savages, assembled together with so much trouble, are again wandering in the woods or buried alive in the bowels of the earth; and this destruction of one of the fairest works ever produced by the hand of man has been applauded. It was a

creation of Christianity, a field fertilized by the blood of apostles; this was enough to make it an object of hatred and contempt. Nevertheless, at the very moment when infidelity triumphed at the sight of Indians consigned in the New World to an execrable servitude, all Europe re-echoed its pretended philanthropy and love of liberty! These disgraceful variations of human nature, according as it is actuated by contrary passions, stupefy the soul, and would be sufficient to excite a hatred of our species were we to keep our eyes too long fixed upon them. Let us then rather say that we are weak creatures, that the ways of the Almighty are inscrutable, and that he is pleased to try his servants. While we here indulge our grief, the simple Christians of Paraguay, now buried in the mines of Potosi, are doubtless adoring the hand which has smitten them, and, by their patient endurance of affliction, are acquiring a place in that republic of the saints which is beyond the reach of the persecutions of men.

CHAPTER VI.

MISSIONS OF GUIANA.

Ir these missions astonish by their grandeur, there are others which, though less known, are not less worthy of admiration. It is often in the obscure cottage and on the grave of the indigent that the King of kings loves to display the riches of his grace and of his miracles. In proceeding northward from Paraguay to the extremity of Canada, you formerly met with a great number of small missions, where the convert had not become civilized to attach himself to the apostle, but where the apostle had turned savage to accompany the convert. The French religious were at the head of these wandering churches, whose perils and perpetual change of place seemed exactly calculated for our courage and genius.

Father Creuilli, a Jesuit, founded the missions of Cayenne. What he accomplished for the comfort of the negroes and savages seems to surpass the powers of human nature. Lombard and

Ramette, treading in the steps of this holy man, penetrated into the morasses of Guiana. Here they gained the affections of the Galibis, by devoting themselves to the relief of their sufferings, and prevailed on those Indians to intrust them with some of their children, whom they instructed in the Christian religion. On returning to their native forests these civilized youths preached the gospel to their aged and savage parents, who were easily convinced by the eloquence of the new missionaries. The converts assembled at a place called Kourou, where Father Lombard, with two negroes, had erected a hut. Their settlement daily increasing, they resolved to have a church. But how were they to pay the builder, a carpenter of Cayenne, who demanded fifteen hundred francs for the work? The missionary and his disciples, though rich in virtues, were in other respects the poorest of men. Faith and charity are ingenious; the Galibis engaged to hollow out seven canoes, for which the carpenter agreed to allow two hundred francs a piece. To make up the rest of the sum, the women spun as much cotton as would suffice for eight hammocks. Twenty others of the savages labored as voluntary slaves for a planter the whole time that his two negroes, whom he consented to lend for the purpose, were employed in sawing boards for the roof of the edifice. Thus the whole business was accomplished, and a temple of God arose in the desert.

He who from all eternity has marked out the course of things, has recently unfolded in those regions one of those designs whose first principles escape the sagacity of men, and whose depths we cannot penetrate till the very instant of their fulfilment. When Father Lombard, upward of a century ago, laid the foundations of his mission among the Galibis, little did he imagine that he was only disposing the savages to receive at some future period the martyrs of the faith, and that he was preparing the deserts of a new Thebais for persecuted religion. What a fertile subject for reflection! Billaud de Varennes and Pichegru, the one the tyrant, the other the victim, met in the same cabin at Synnamary !-hearts which the extremity of misery itself had proved incapable of uniting1. Irreconcilable animosities raged among

Pichegru was a French general of distinguished abilities during the Revolution, but opposed to the excesses of the times. He was banished under the Directory to Cayenne, whence he afterward escaped. He had been preceded