it was decided that he should be delivered to an old Huron chief, to replace, if he chose, one of his own nephews, whom he had lost in the war, or to deal with him in any other mode he might think proper. As soon as Brebeuf was informed of what was going on, he went to the Iroquois, in order to afford him every consolation, and to extend to him the benefit of religious instruction, and the rites of the church. He was permitted to communicate freely with the captive, whom he found dressed and ornamented in a superior manner, and perfectly tranquil and composed. Upon approaching him, however, Brebeuf observed that one of his hands had been crushed between two stones, and a finger pulled off; and that they had likewise cut off two fingers of the other hand with a hatchet: the joints of his arms were also dreadfully burnt, and a deep wound appeared in one of them. These injuries had been inflicted while led in triumph to the place where the sachems held their council to determine upon the ultimate fate of their prisoner. After he was brought to the village where the council was assembled, the captive was treated with the utmost kindness and attention, though well guarded to prevent his escape. The missionaries were permitted to attend him; and Brebeuf states that he received religious instruction with satisfaction, and was thereupon baptized.

The prisoner was now marched from village to

village, till they at length reached the residence of the Huron chief to whom he was to be presented, and who, as yet, had given no decision as to his future fate. When a captive was thus presented to an Indian, the latter sometimes adopted him, and sometimes doomed him to suffer death. No other person had the slightest authority with respect to him, this right being deemed sacred and inviolable. The Iroquois prisoner appeared before the Huron with the countenance and demeanour of a man equally indifferent to life or death. He was not long kept in suspense. My nephew," said the old Huron chief, "you cannot know the pleasure which I received, when I heard you were to belong to me. I imagined that he whom I had lost had again risen in you, and that you would occupy his place. I had already spread a mat for you in my cabin, and looked forward in the hope of passing the rest of my days with you in tranquillity and peace; but the state in which I find you compels me to change my resolution. The pains and inconveniences you suffer would only make life a burden to you, and in shortening your days you cannot but think I do you a service it is they who have thus mutilated you that have caused this determination. Have courage, therefore, my nephew; prepare for death this night. Shew that you are a man; and be not cast down by the dread of torments."

The prisoner heard this sentence with the utmost composure, and answered with a firm voice, "It is well."-The sister of the warrior whom he was to have replaced then approached him, presented him with food, and attended him with all the appearance of most sincere friendship. The old chief also caressed him with tenderness, put his pipe into his mouth, and displayed towards him the marks of the most unfeigned affection.

At mid-day, a feast was given by the uncle, where every one was assembled. "My brethren," said the captive, “I am going to die; deal with me as it pleases you: know that I am a man. I neither fear death, nor the torments that you can make me suffer." After the feast was concluded, he was led to the spot fixed upon for his execution. About eight o'clock in the evening, the fires were lighted, and the spectators collected. The elders addressed the younger part of the assembly, exhorting them to act properly in the important ceremony which was to take place: the address was received with the most dreadful yells and howling. The captive was now brought forth in the midst of the assembly, between two of the missionaries: his hands were then bound, and at this sight the hideous shouts of his expectant tormentors were redoubled. He then made a circuit, dancing, and singing the death-song. A chief took off the prisoner's robe, and exposed him naked to the assembly. The scene of horror now com

menced; and Charlevoix states the description given of it by Père Brebeuf, who was present during the whole of the dreadful ceremony, to be such as to make human nature shudder. The missionaries obtained for him a respite, from time to time, in which Brebeuf persevered in his religious exhortations. During these, the greatest silence prevailed, Brebeuf being listened to with profound attention. The captive continued to answer him with most perfect composure, conversing sometimes about the affairs of his own nation, as if he had been surrounded by his family and friends. His sufferings were prolonged during the whole night, because the elders had declared it was important that the rising sun should find him yet alive: his torments were therefore protracted till the dawn of day, when at length he was put to death.*

The reports transmitted from the French missions in the interior contain but too many accounts of barbarities similar to what was thus witnessed by Père Brebeuf. While resident While resident among the Indians, the missionaries were themselves in constant danger; and, indeed, they appear to have held their lives by a very slender tenure. On many occasions, we On find that their persevering attempts to civilize the natives, or to convert them to Christianity, were repaid by the severest torture and the cruelest deaths.

* Charlevoix, Hist. de la Nouvelle France, liv. v.

Brebeuf himself, after twenty years of zeal and labour in his vocation, having been taken prisoner by the Iroquois, in 1649, was put to death amidst the most cruel torments. Père Gabriel Lallemant, another Jesuit missionary, made captive at the same time, was also burnt alive. Père Daniel, who had accompanied Brebeuf in his first mission into the interior, was likewise taken prisoner and killed by them. Jogues, Charles Garnier, Buteux, La Ribourde, Goupil, Constantin, Garreau, Liegeouis, together with many of their European companions and attendants, were also put to death, chiefly by the Iroquois. A similar fate befell many other missionaries who resided among the tribes inhabiting Louisiana and the countries of New France, situated upon the rivers which run into the Missisippi from the east. Numbers also who escaped from death were cruelly maimed and mutilated; others entirely disappeared, whose fate was not ascertained, and who were never afterwards heard of.

Upon the subject of these and numerous other instances of barbarity, the French writers naturally expatiated with the greatest horror. The military officers, also, who were employed in opposing the savages in the field, and who felt themselves surrounded by the extreme dangers attendant upon such sanguinary campaigns, confirmed, and every where circulated, the accounts of these barbarities. In war, nothing can exceed Indian ferocity: every