The young Jesuit, whom the King now denominates Prince James Stuart, remained but a short time in England. He was despatched on a secret mission to Rome in the middle of November.

'Now comes the more romantic part of the story. On the 30th of March, 1669, Kent, the English minister at Rome, wrote to Sir Joseph Williamson: "You will read in the advices from Naples of an extravagant person arrived there, who falling in love with the hoasts daughter where hee laye, married her, but being observed to live as well as to talke high of his great birth, the Viceking haveing account of it, sent an officer to seaze upon his goods and coffers, where they write from thence was found many jewells of vallue, some quantity of pistolls and some papers or letters directed to him with the title of highness, for it seems hee vaunted to be the King of England's sonn, borne at Gersey, which circumstances invited the Vice-king's curiosity or suspition of his quality to imprison him in the Castle of St. Erarno, to bee the better informed of him; being there hee sent for the English consull, Mr. Browne, to assist him for his delivery out of the castle; but it seemes hee could not speake a word of English nor give any account of the birth he pretended unto. Since the Vice-king hath taken him out of that castle and removed him to the fortresse at Gaetta, and shutt his wife (with child) into a monastery, and this is all the light I can pick out of the nation, and others of this extravagant story, which, whether will end in prince or cheate I shall endeavour to informe you hereafter."

:

On the 6th of April following, Kent writes: "Noe further news from Naples of the English prince now prisoner in the castle of Gaetta." Kent's next letter to Williamson relative to this subject is on the 16th of June. He writes 66 The gentleman who would have been his Majesties bastard at Naples, upon the receipt of his Majesties letters to that Vice-king, was immediately taken out of the castle of Gaetta, brought to Naples, and cast into the grand prison called the Vicaria, where being thought amongst the most vile and infamous rascalls, the Vice-king intended to have caused him to bee whipt about the citty, but means were made by his wife's kindred (who was likewise taken out of the nunery she was put into till the discovery of this pretended prince,) to the Vice-queene, who in compassion to her and her kindred prevailed with Don Pedro to deliver him from that shame, and soe ends the story of this fourb who speaks no languadge but French.”

'On the 31st of August following Kent thus announces the death of the young pretender: "That certaine fellow or what hee was, who pretended to bee his Majesties naturall sonn at Naples, is dead, and having made his will they write mee from thence wee shall with the next poast know of the truth of his quality." According to his promise Kent communicated to Williamson on the 7th of September the chief heads in the will of the pseudo prince, "That certaine person at Naples who in his lifetyme who would needes be his Majesties naturall sonn is dead in the same confidence and princely humour; for haveing left his Lady Teresa Corona, an ordinary person, seven months gone with child, he made his testament, and left his most Christian Majesty (whom hee called cousin) executor of it. He had beene absent from Naples some tyme, pretending to have made a journey into France to visit his mother, Doña Maria Stuarta, of his Majesty's royall family, which neerness and greatness of blood was the cause saies hee that his Majestie would never acknowledge him for his soun; his mother Doña Maria Stuarta was it seemes dead before hee came to France. For his will he desires the present King of England, Carlo 2a, to

Catholique vous en soyes exclus. Croyez que nous vous avons toujours eu une affection particulière, non seulement à cause que vous nous este ne dans nostre plus tendre jeunesse lorsque nous n'avions guères plus de 16 ou 17 ans, que particulièrement à cause de l'excellent naturel que nous avons toujours remarque

en vous.'

allowe his prince Hans in Kelder, eighty thousand duckatts per annum, which is his mother's estate: he leaves likewise to his child and mother Teresa 291 thousand duckatts, which hee calls legacies. He was buried in the Church of St. Francisco de Paolo out of the porta Capuana (for he dyed of this religion); he left 400 francs for a lapide to have his name and quality engraven upon it, for he called himself Don Jacopo Stuarto; and this is the end of that princely cheate or whatever he was."

'On the 14th September Kent writes to Williamson, "Enclosed you have the will of Pee Dr. Jacopo Stuart, sent me from Naples."

"The before-mentioned facts are all that are at present come to light respecting this mysterious story, which, to say the least of it, certainly staggers credulity; but this is neither the place nor the occasion to enter into a criticism upon the subject. One fact, however, may be noticed which appears to me to throw discredit upon it. The King in one of his letters says that the young man's title was better than that of the Duke of Monmouth, and he had a right of precedence over him " par toutes raisons et à cause de la qualité de une mere," yet in spite of this he grants him an insignificant pension of 5007. per annum, clogged with certain conditions, while he had already granted a pension to the Duke of Monmouth of 6,000l. for life without any condition whatever, and had likewise given him a dukedom,'

We will conclude this article by drawing our reader's attention to the wonderfully interesting volume of Venetian Despatches lately issued by Mr. Rawdon Brown, in the series of Calendars published under the superintendence of the Master of the Rolls. Perhaps at a future time we may offer them some remarks upon it. Meanwhile we are glad to be able to inform them that Mr. Hardy's suggestion that there should be an annual allowance made for copying and transmitting to England such Venetian documents as it may appear desirable to have transcribed, has already been carried into effect, and that the first instalment has already reached the Record Office, and will probably ere long be open to the inspection of those who may be interested in English history.

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ART. II.-The Jesuits in North America in the Seventeenth Century. By FRANCIS PARKMAN. Boston: Little, Brown and Co. 1867.

THE contrast between English and French colonization is striking. The English settler applies himself to toil with a consciousness that it is the lot of Adam's sons to eat their bread in the sweat of their brow, and with a love of the toil which is his heritage. He has no liking for idleness, no passion for pleasure; his object in life is subsistence, and, if he can fill his mouth, and support a family, he cares not what labour it may cost him. He applies himself at once to till the ground; agriculture is at once his labour and his delight. The never ungrateful earth becomes more productive the longer it is tilled. The settler's cabin is replaced by a substantial farm, round which cluster cottages, and stores are opened for trade. The hamlet becomes a village, and the village grows into a town. From each small centre fresh germs of civilization are cast forth, and the work of advance progresses neither slowly nor insecurely. It is like the march of a disciplined army through a hostile country. It has its basis of operations; it sends out skirmishers, it levels obstacles, cuts down forests, fills ravines which may harbour foes, then throws forward a wing to occupy some advantageous point, without breaking the chain of inter-connexion with the centre of the force. Presently the whole body is brought up in line with the wing, again to throw out feelers, and grasp vantage grounds, and again, having cleared the area before it, to move bodily forward.

It was thus that England colonized North America. There was no one directing genius to regulate and systematize the movement, but Englishmen learn by experience, and are guided by their apprehension of what is reasonable.

The French settler is a man of different calibre; he is not fond of toil: if he labours, it is that he may enjoy himself afterwards; he does not resolve to make his home in the new land which he treads, but regards himself as an exile, and sighs over his toil for the charms of la belle France. His tastes are not for tillage; the chase and war are more congenial pursuits. Careless and thriftless, he lives happy in the midst of a poverty which would urge the English settler on to redoubled labour, and is content if he can have his Sunday dance, and his nightly carouse. The French colonist in Canada presented a sharp contrast to the stern Puritan settler in New England. The latter bent over his

spade and plough, with gloomy brow and dogged determination. England was no land for which he could sigh; the wilderness was to be his home, and he resolved to cut and trim the wilderness to suit his quaker tastes. The Canadian, on the other hand, cared little for the soil. He roved the forests after game; consorting with Indians, learning their arts, forgetting his own; acquiring their barbarism, shaking off his own civilization; darting with them in canoes over the milky foam of the rapid; stalking the moose with them on mocassined feet amongst the snows of winter, trapping the wolverine; spreading his bearskin in a lodge of an Indian village; flinging himself into the habits, pursuits, superstitions and licence of his savage companions. Thus the Frenchman failed to establish himself on the continent of America, whilst the English Puritan was rooting himself ineradicably in the new soil.

Canada was the true child of France and the Church. The Cross of Christ and the lilies of the Bourbon were planted there side by side. The priest and the soldier, the settler and the nun went forth together to the wilderness. Feebly rooted in the 'soil, she thrust out branches which overshadowed half America; a magnificent object to the eye, but one which the first whirlwind would prostrate in the dust.' Canada offered no inducement to French colonists of energy. The Huguenots would gladly have hurried there to exercise their religion in freedom, but the ports were closed to them. It was only offered to the Catholic and the Royalist, and for such there was many an opening in the mother country. Consequently, those who went forth to the new world, were those who had wasted their substance in the old land, thriftless and improvident, and most unlikely to effect a permanent settlement in another, or they were soldiers sent to guard the forts, and priests to convert the heathen.

So thoroughly had the task of colonization failed, that it would probably have been abandoned, had not the hope of dispelling the darkness of heathendom in those trackless forests, by the pure light of the Faith, taken possession of the imaginatin and religious enthusiasm of France.

6

Champlain, the founder of Quebec, a brave soldier, a statesman, and a devout Christian, had said: The saving of one soul is worth more than the conquest of an empire;' and, to forward the work of conversion, he brought with him from France four monks of the order of St. Francis.

It was with the Jesuits that the glory of the conversion of the Indians of Canada rests. The history of their mission is strange, instructive, and interesting. It presents to us a picture of the wondrous power of faith, impelling men to endure all, renounce all, in the ardour of their devotion to a cause. But above all is

it marvellous, as exhibiting an instance of the mysterious ways of Providence, which are past man's finding out. The Jesuit scheme, had it succeeded, would have rescued the North American Indian from annihilation. It aimed at distributing communities of Christianized natives through the valleys of the Great Lakes and the Mississippi, ruled by priests in the interest of Catholicity and of France; it desired to break them of their nomadic habits and their instincts of mutual slaughter, and to develop their habits of agriculture and trade. The decline of Indian population would have been arrested; undecimated by internecine war it would have put forth a vigorous growth, and Canada would have been the seat of a great native Christian people in close alliance with France, whilst as yet the colonies of England were but a weak and broken line along the shore of the Atlantic. Great and noble as was this scheme, not from a Christian point of view alone, but from a philanthropic point as well, it was destined to failure, and that from an unforeseen

cause.

In 1632, Paul Le Jeune, a Jesuit father, received the command to embark for the New World. He was in his convent at Dieppe when the order reached him, and he started, filled, as he assures us, with inexpressible joy at the prospect of a living or a dying martyrdom. At Rouen he was joined by De Noue and by a lay brother, and they sailed together on the 18th of April. The vessel encountered many storms, and the missionaries were very sea-sick. At length they came in sight of that miserable country,' as Le Jeune calls the scene of his future labours. It was in the harbour of Tadoussac that he first saw the objects of his apostolic cares; for, as he sat in the ship's cabin with the master, it was suddenly invaded by a dozen Indians, whom he compares to maskers at the Carnival. Some had their cheeks painted black, their noses blue, and the rest of their faces red. Others were decorated with a broad band of black across the eyes; and others, again, with diverging rays of black, blue, and red on both cheeks.

On the 5th of July, Le Jeune reached Quebec, and settled himself and his companions in two hovels on the S. Charles. The Jesuit at once set himself to learn the Indian language. Winter closed in. The S. Lawrence was hard frozen. Rivers, forests, and rocks were mantled alike in dazzling sheets of snow. The humble mission-house of Notre-Dame des Anges was half buried in the drifts, which rose two feet above the low eaves. The priests, sitting by night before the blazing logs of their widethroated chimney, heard the trees in the neighbouring forest cracking with frost, with a sound like the report of a pistol. Le Jeune's ink froze, and his fingers were benumbed, as he toiled at