The expedition made its way directly | title," came in state to visit the stranand without special adventures (except gers. Standing up in his canoe, he adthe encountering some bad weather) to dressed the captain in " une prédication the coast of Labrador. Here, apparently et preschement," with gestures "d'une at Mingan (Cartier called it St. Nicolas), merveilleuse sorte," expressive of confithey set up a great wooden cross, the dence and friendship, and was easily perposition of which is carefully described suaded to taste the bread and wine prefor the benefit of future voyagers. Leav-sented to him. ing this place, they met with a terrible storm, from which they thankfully took refuge in a beautiful bay full of islands. To this place, and not to "the great river of Canada," Cartier gave the name of St. Laurent. It seems to have been at the mouth of the River St. John, Labrador; but it is impossible to say when or why the name, originally attached to this har bor of refuge, was applied to the whole magnificent stream and gulf which now bear it. " Carefully exploring the coasts as he went on, the captain, always anxiously mindful of that "perfection the passage to Cathay - which more than all else would reward his toils, led his little fleet along the northern shores of the gulf, past the dangerous island of Anticosti, and the innumerable smaller ones lying higher up, until he reached "the country of Saguenay" and the great river which still bears that name. Here he was not only pleased with the beauty of richly wooded and watered lands, and with the report of the Indians that copper was found in the neighborhood, but also saw some creatures not more wonderful to his eyes than his description of them is to our ears. "Here we saw," he says, "some fishes such as no man had seen or heard of. They were the size of porpoises, with heads like greyhounds, well made and white as snow, without spot. The Indians called them 'adhothings,' and said they were good to eat." Sailing on past Ile aux Cendres (which still retains the name he gave it), and other small islands, he anchored at last, one fair September evening, near the north shore at the lower end of the Ile d'Orléans. "Here," he says, "began the land and province of Canada," and here he allowed his men to go ashore, and to accept freely the presents of fruit, maize and fish brought to them by the Indians. The boys, Taignoagny and Domagaya, who had been in France, were received with the greatest joy by their countrymen, and there seems to have been a tremendous uproar of welcome about the ships all that evening and night. Next day "the lord of Canada, who was called Donacona by name, and Agouhanna as his The difference between the conventional Indian of romance, and the real and perfectly unsophisticated Indians of this true narrative, is very wonderful. Not only Donacona and his people, but all the other tribes whom Cartier met with, seem to have been simple, almost childish sauvages, wild men, friendly, hospitable, confiding; and cunning only in the clumsiest and most transparent fashion. Like children, they show themselves sometimes wilful and unreasonable; but the worst complaint Cartier makes of them is that they were "marvellous thieves," while they certainly seem to have been quite as ready to give as to take. After a little delay the ships left their anchorage and, passing below the beautiful Fall of Montmorenci with its veil of silver mist, coasted the green north shore, drawing near with wonder to the grand cliffs that rose majestically, towering above the broad waters, as if nature had made her citadel there and bade the strangers stand back from her impregnable ramparts. At the foot of the rock fortress they again dropped their anchors; sheltering themselves at the mouth of a stream which flowed quietly into the great river from the north. To this smaller stream they gave the name of Ste. Croix, which it retained for less than a hundred years, till in 1617 the Recollet Fathers of Quebec rechristened it the St. Charles. In the whole of Cartier's story there is no trace of any origin for the name by which the place he had now reached is known to us. He calls it simply Stadacona, and it is evident that he never attempted to give it any other appellation. The story of his sailors crying out "Quel bec!" and their exclamation being repeated until it came be used as the name of the cliffs which caused it, is never hinted at. Indeed, after many attempts to find a Canadian origin for the name of Quebec, one is obliged to confess that the question remains as much unanswered as ever. Charlevoix says that the word is Algonquin. "Les Abenaquis, dont la langue est une dialecte Algonquine, le nomment Quelibec, qui veut dire ce qui est fermé, parceque de l'entré de la petite rivière de la Chaudière par où ces sau- stronghold of European power and civilivages venaient à Quebec, le port de Que-zation in the midst of the primitive rebec ne paroit qu'une grande barge." But, gion. Beyond the ships a grassy and on the other hand, when we remember that Quebec is an old form of the word Caudebec, it seems probable that the French did really give the name, though after the time of Cartier. The Earl of Suffolk of Henry VI.'s reign bore the titles of Domine de Hamburg et de Quebec. He was a powerful seigneur in Normandy, and the same place may easily have given him his title and the gem of La Nouvelle France its name. In the time of Cartier, however, the Quebec of to-day was certainly called Stadacona, and was a populous and prosperous Indian town. No sooner were his ships safely anchored than the captain went on shore to return the visit he had received from the Indian chief. "Near the river," he says, "there is a people of whom Donacona is chief, and their dwelling is called Stadacona, which is as beautiful a place as it is possible to see, and very fertile - full of fine trees the same as in France, such as oaks, elms, ashes, walnuts, maples, vines, whitethorns which bear fruit as large as damsons, and other trees; under which grows fine hemp as good as that of France, without any cultivation." Kindly received by the Indians, and guided up steep pathways to the rugged heights where the citadel now stands, Cartier, first of Europeans, looked down upon one of the most magnificent landscapes in the world. That grand panorama is nature's own, and must have been in its outlines the same to his eyes as it is to ours. At his feet the cliffs, sharply cut by some long-past convulsion, formed a precipitous wall two hundred feet high, at whose base clung the narrow strip of beach, then green and fertile, but now covered by Champlain Street, and the wharves and warehouses of the Lower Town. Beyond this line of beach stretched the glorious waters of "the great river," cradling the green Ile d'Orléans, with its abundant foliage, where perhaps the golden touches of autumn had already given their first splendor to the vines. On his right, parted from him by the broad current, rose the broken Point Levi shore, a wild, wooded solitude, "very fair," but seemingly undisturbed by man. On his left the shallower stream of the Ste. Croix flowed peacefully out from a channel already far too wide for its waters, and there his ships, with the royal arms of France displayed, lay safely-a little level shore extended, until, rising gradually, it grew into those steep cliffs fringed with clinging bushes, over which, six miles off, the Montmorenci flung itself, marking its descent by a cloud of glimmering whiteness. Further on and further back from the river the land still rose, richly wooded and beautiful, but all solitary, where in later days Wolfe's little army was to have its encampment, and where now scattered villages lie, stretching mile after mile past the place where the white houses and glittering spire of Les Anges Gardiens nestle among the green slopes of the hills. It must have been a day never to be forgotten when Cartier- surely for a moment unconscious that his voyage needed any other perfecting-climbed the heights of Stadacona, and looked down upon this picture. He was to grow familiar with it, to see it daily through times of diffi culty, danger, and almost despair; but for all the suffering that might come to be associated with it, it would keep its place in his memory as something to be recalled in the peaceful years to come with all a lover's admiration and a discoverer's pride. A short time was spent in exploring the neighborhood of Stadacona and the Ile d'Orléans (on which, from its abundant vines, the name of Ile de Bacchus was bestowed) and in taking measures for the safety of the ships; but the captain's mind was now resolutely bent on a voyage up "the great river," to visit an important Indian settlement of which reports had reached him. The chief and people of Stadacona were for some reason opposed to this expedition, and not only contrived causes of delay, but finally managed so that the French were obliged to do without the guides and interpreters on whose help they had counted. Cartier, however, was not to be discouraged; and on September 19 started up the river with the "Emerillon," the smallest of his three small vessels, and two boats. They stopped at a place called Ochelay, which seems to have been at or near Richelieu, and were hospitably received by the Indians there. When they reached Lake St. Peter their journey began to be troublesome and dangerous, and they were obliged to leave the "Emerillon" in charge of a small party, and only take on the boats, manned by twenty sailors, four gentlemen volunteers, and the two masters Marc Jalobert and Guillaume le Breton. They had and a cross, which he was instructed to kiss and to hang round his neck. Then the party went on through the fields, passing among the tall stems of Indian corn, with their graceful leaves and long tassels of golden-tinted floss, until they reached the gate of the town and entered it, much amazed at what they saw; for The news of their approach had gone they found themselves within a circle of before them, and there was an excited large extent, formed by wooden ramparts crowd waiting as their boats drew up to and broken by only a single entrance. the beach. More than a thousand per- These ramparts were triple, and most sons, Cartier says, were assembled, danc- strongly and ingeniously built - very ing and singing tumultuously, and throw- thick at the bottom and diminishing toing cakes made of maize into their boats, wards the top, the beams extremely well in such abundance "that you would have joined, and each rampart two spears' thought they were rained down from length in height. The gateway, the only heaven." As soon as the strangers land-passage through them, could be closed ed, they found a great feast prepared for them, the whole town apparently constituting themselves their entertainers; but that day there was no state reception, nor did they visit the town itself, contenting themselves with making friends of the crowd, and especially of the women, who seem to have been everywhere most prominent in public demonstrations. Next morning the captain and his coming one large hall with a fireplace, and several smaller rooms for the use of different members of the family. An upper story served as the granary and storehouse; the supplies which it held consisted of Indian corn (which was beaten into flour with wooden mallets), pease, large cucumbers, and fruits, with abundance of dried fish. Cartier tells us nothing as to the furnishing of these substantial dwellings, though their comfortable aspect seems to have much impressed him, except as to the beds, which were made of bark with plenty of furs for coverings. with bars against an enemy, and all round the town inside the ramparts ran galleries, where piles of stones were stored ready to be thrown on the heads of a besieging army. Within all these fortifications were about fifty houses arranged round a central square or place. Each house was about fifty feet long, cleverly roofed with sheets of bark, and contain pany started, with a certain state and for- When the preschement ended, Cartier presented to the chief gifts suitable to his rank - two hatchets, a pair of knives, The French were led by the chief, their conductor, into the great central square of the town, being joined by a crowd of the inhabitants, women as well as men. All these came round them without the least sign of fear or shyness, caressing them, the former bringing babies, whom they begged them to touch, as if they thought their doing so would procure the children some good fortune. At last, after the women had gratified their curiosity, they were all dismissed by the men, who seated themselves on the ground. Presently, however, some of the women came back bringing mats, which they invited the captain and his party to take their places upon them. They had no sooner obeyed than the Agouhanna, the great chief, made his appearance, carried by nine or ten men, and placed himself | a Book of Hours, and read distinctly on a deerskin beside that assigned to from it, word for word, the passion of Cartier. He was a man of about fifty, our Lord. While he thus read words no better dressed than his subjects, ex- which, though in an unknown tongue, cept that he wore as a crown a fillet of they must have guessed to be in some hedgehog's skin, dyed red; he was, how-way divine, the people stood around him ever, a most pitiable object, being so pal- silent, looking up to heaven, and imitatsied that all his limbs shook. ing reverently the devout gestures of the French. The scene that follows is so singular and so touching that one stops to ask oneself what it was in the aspect of the strangers which thus inspired in a people, not altogether barbarous, a faith equally sudden and unclaimed? They had seen no proofs of their power. Even the firearms which had awed the people of Stadacona had not been used here to obtain for the French a prestige born of fear. They knew still less, one would think, of the disposition of the newcomers whether they would show themselves gentle or cruel. Yet they evidently believed at once in their will, as well as in their capacity, to help. Was it one of those intuitions which we see sometimes in children, by which they comprehend character as it affects themselves with an almost unerring certainty? Did any miracle of healing follow? We know nothing more. Cartier's narrative goes back to common things, and tells us briefly of the rest of his hurried visit to Hochelaga. Yet it is hard to believe that such an hour left no trace. Even those who refuse belief, absolutely and without exception, to all modern miracles, may allow that among a people highly imaginative and full of faith, cures of nervous diseases were, under such circumstances, very possible; to those less sceptical it may be permitted to hope that even more than such cures took place. One thing can hardly be doubted. The recollection of that appeal and response-the cry of human misery answered by the message of divine love must have left an undying impression on the minds of those who The chief of Hochelaga only waited saw and heard; and probably the recital until the usual ceremonies of greeting of this scene was one of the first induceand welcome were ended, and then imme-ments to pious men and women in France diately showed his disabled limbs to the to undertake the long and difficult task captain, begging him to touch them. He of evangelizing the people of Canada. did so, rubbing them gently with his hands, and the chief, apparently satisfied, took off the red fillet and presented it to him. As if this gift had been a signal expected and waited for, a strange stir instantly began, and there was carried into the square from all sides a crowd of sick, helpless, blind and deformed persons, who were laid down round Cartier, their friends praying him only to touch them" tellement qu'il sembloit que Dieu feust là descendu pour les guérir." Never, surely, since the days when the lame, the halt, and the blind were brought to our Lord, was there a similar throng assembled, and it was well for the man who stood there with so many imploring eyes turned to him that he could feel, above his human weakness, the certainty of a divine power and compassion. Deeply moved, he took, as it were, these ignorant prayers of the people and offered them to God. Standing in the midst, he recited the beginning of St. John's Gospel, and making the sign of the cross upon the sick, prayed that God would make himself known to them, and give them grace to receive Christianity and the holy rite of baptism. Then he took Cartier and his party explored the environs of Hochelaga, and climbed "the mountain" to which later travellers gave the name of Mont Royal; but the season was advancing and they could make no long stay. Taking a warm and friendly farewell of their Indian hosts, they went on board their boats, and soon rejoining the "Emerillon," returned to Stadacona by the middle of the month. Much had to be done before winter set in, and strange must have been the feelings of the little colony when, shut up in the enclosure with which they had surrounded their ships, they saw the great river change into a plain of ice, and the green and fertile country shroud itself in its deep mantle of snow. They knew that for six months they must remain prisoners, but they did not know all the suffering those winter months were to bring. The captain's journal through the winter is a story of simple heroism full of interest, but for which we have no space here. A terrible illness broke out among the party, which proved fatal to twenty of them, and was so universal that at one time there were but three men well out of the three crews. At the same time the friendship of Donacona and his | vain, and when autumn approached the people had so far cooled that Cartier felt patience of the adventurers seems to have it most imperative to conceal the helpless been worn out. They left the great river condition of his men, and was driven to for the last time, met De Roberval at St. all sorts of expedients for this purpose, John, but would not turn back, and before while his heart was torn by the misery the end of October had been received about him, and often, as De Joinville says with great rejoicings and honors in their of St. Louis, "he had nothing but cour-own town. Only the first part of this age to maintain life.” voyage is related by the captain himself; his journal breaks off abruptly at a moment when, just at the closing in of winter, he was putting his little fort in order to withstand an anticipated attack. If he finished it (which is almost certain), the last portion was entirely lost within a few years of his death, and Hakluyt, who tried anxiously, but in vain, to recover it, was able to pick up only the most fragmentary information as to later events. At last the time of suffering was over. A decoction of a plant called anneda perhaps the wild barberry-proved so efficacious that the sick began quickly to recover. One of the ships must indeed be abandoned, but the others were brought out of their enclosure and made ready for sea. Early in May all was prepared, but Cartier seems to have feared that Donacona and his people meant to hinder his departure. They had shown great For ten years "the Captain" seems to distrust of the French for some time, and have enjoyed quiet and modest ease in this is the only excuse for what certainly his seaside Manoir of Lemoïlou. The was a line of conduct entirely at variance king gave him letters of nobility, but apwith the captain's general character.parently little or nothing else; and after Donacona was suddenly seized and, with several of his attendants, forcibly invited to pay a visit to the king of France. He was allowed to see and speak with his people, and to appoint a regent, but nevertheless there is no doubt that he was carried off against his will. On May 6, 1536, the two ships left their anchorage, and moved down the river, and on June 6 they came safely into the harbor of St. Malo, the joy of their prosperous home-coming clouded by the memory of twenty comrades who would never return. Four years later. Cartier once more sailed for La Nouvelle France. The interval had been filled by public events of such importance as to distract King Francis's thoughts entirely from his newlyclaimed territory, and had been marked also by the downfall of Admiral de Chabot, Cartier's friend and patron. At last, however, a fresh commission was issued (and this time expressly for purposes of colonization), in which unfortunately Cartier was hampered by the partnership of the Sieur de Roberval. De Roberval made so many delays that Cartier was at last ordered off alone and ill provided. He reached his old anchorage at the Ste. Croix August 23, 1540, and though he had not brought Donacona or any of his attendants back, he was again well received by the Indians. He afterwards began preparations for a settlement at Charlebourg Royal (Cap Rouge) and built a fort, where he must have spent the winter and part of the following summer. All this time De Roberval was expected in De Roberval's return to France there was even a question raised as to the expenditure of the sum granted to them jointly from the royal treasury. It was proved, however, that Cartier had spent more than he had received, and the court gave sentence in his favor in June, 1544. This is the latest public record of his life. In 1554 he died, at the age of sixty, leaving no children and no wealth-nothing at all, indeed, except his well-deserved reputation as a skilful sailor, an excellent commander, and an honest man. ANNIE WALKER. I HAD a long time to wait before Mrs. Harwood came. The morning sun was shining into the room, making everything more dingy. No doubt it had been dusted that morning as well as the little maid could dust it; but nothing looked pure or fresh in the brightness of the light, which was full of motes, and seemed to find out dust in every corner. The dingy cover on the table, the old-fashioned "Books of Beauty," the black horsehair chairs, stood out remorselessly shabby in the sunshine. I wondered what kind of house Ellen would have when she furnished one for herself. Would John and she show any "taste" between them-would they "pick up" pretty things at sales and old furni |