370 SAINTE MARIE. ^1649. 



It was a scene that might recall a remote half 

 feudal, half patriarchal age, when, under the 

 smoky rafteis of his antique hall, some warlike 

 thane sat, with kinsmen and dependants ranged 

 down the long board, each in his degree. Here, 

 doubtless, Ragueneau, the Father Superior, held 

 the place of honor ; and, for chieftains scarred with 

 Danish battle-axes, was seen a band of thoughtful 

 men, clad in a threadbare garb of black, their brows 

 swarthy from exposure, yet marked with the lines 

 of intellect and a fixed enthusiasm of purpose. 

 Here was Bressani, scarred with firebrand and 

 knife ; Chabanel, once a professor of rhetoric in 

 France, now a missionary, bound by a self-imposed 

 vow to a life from which his nature recoiled ; the 

 fanatical Chaumonot, whose character savored of 

 his peasant bhth, — for the grossest fungus of su- 

 perstition that ever grew under the shadow of 

 Rome was not too much for his omnivorous credu- 

 lity, and miracles and mysteries were his daily 

 food ; yet, such as his faith was, he was ready to 

 die for it. Garnier, beardless like a woman, was 

 of a far finer nature. His religion was of the 

 aff'ections and the sentiments ; and his imagination, 

 warmed with the ardor of his faith, shaped the 

 ideal forms of his worship into visible realities. 

 Brebeuf sat conspicuous among his brethren, portly 

 and tall, his short moustache and beard grizzled 

 with time, — for he was fifty-six years old. If he 

 seemed impassive, it was because one overmaster- 

 ing principle had merged and absorbed all the 

 impulses of his nature and all the faculties of his 



