  Consecrated to a lonely life of celibacy, Seeing only a vain delusion and a fallacy In terrestrial unions—man’s uncertainty of bliss, Suspended in the balance o’er an infinite abyss— Appalled by sin and its delusive elements everywhere: The cry of a lost world—an intonation of despair Rising up from the depths of impenetrability; The infinite to the finite, out from dread eternity, Breathing subtly to the spiritual, the list’ning soul Answereth “deep unto deep.” And responsive to the irresistible communion (Wond’rous affinity! mysterious, inscrutable union!) To the cause of Christ, and by held and flood a world to save. Moved by pity for man’s fallen and suffering state, O’erwhelm’d in the vortex of a direful, impending fate, Man must be lifted up and placed upon the narrow way, More in the divine radiance and pure celestial ray Of God’s own light. And thus the Jesuit is impelled; By an undying enthusiasm of religious zeal He goes forth to the rescue, to alleviate and heal. And deeply learned and skilled in every earthly lore, He gleans the gems of thought from the deep mines of every shore; Searches for knowledge down the long vistas of the past, Surmounting all impediments, winning the field at last. Thus equipped, a diplomat, he is found near thrones of kings, In palaces and parliaments; his subtle influence brings Nations to the Church’s imperious, predominant feet: In her insatiable interest all things must bend and meet. With black cassock, the cross and rosary at his girdled side, He goes forth, the Church’s consecrated champion and her pride. No distance is too great to stay his eager, tireless feet; Nor heat, nor biting cold, nor raging tempest, rain and sleet, Can deter him from his purpose. On his devoted head The elements beat in vain. Unsheltered and unfed, He is found in the lonely wilds of every land and zone, Fearless of every danger, oft suffering and alone. Braving disease, pestilence, and the martyr’s tragic death; Having no home, no wife, no country, only heaven in view, And the redemption of the heathen, a weary work to do; Sustained through hard years of toil by heaven’s quenchless flame. Such was Jean de BrÉboeuf, the Ajax of the Huron tribe, A martyred hero, who all impediments, e’en death, defied In the pursuit of duty, the lost lonely wilds to save, Winning a crown of victory, and at last a martyr’s grave. Over the far ocean the impassioned zealot came, Hot in the pursuit of duty, with heart and soul aflame; Stemming swift rivers along the rough and tortuous way, Pressing forward through the dense lone wilderness day by day, With soiled and tattered garments, and naked, bleeding feet, Bearing a weary burden, his necessities to meet. He sought, and found by Lake Huron’s vast and majestic side, The pagan Huron nation in all its savagery and pride— A vast tract stretching from Lake Simcoe to the Georgian Bay, A scene of rustic loveliness in that strange time far away. Thirty thousand Hurons, in palisaded towns by scores, Built within the shadowy forest and along the shores; A strange people, the red Hurons, of some far, forgotten age; An unsolved mystery, a blank on history’s page! Boldly entering the towns and wigwams, undismayed By barbaric savagery in threatening form arrayed; Through lines of spears and warclubs, tomahawks and flashing knives, Stained by the blood of foemen, red with a thousand lives! Aye, he went with but the cross of the Saviour at his side, Raised a prayer to the Father, and to the red men cried, “Peace! our mission’s peace; we come in the Great Manitou’s name, To bid our red brothers war no more, but to enkindle a flame Of peace and friendship; for ’tis the Great Spirit’s loving will That his red children should war no more, that hate no more should fill Their hearts, and as brothers to abide in a lasting peace— In seeking the ‘happy hunting grounds’ strife and war must cease.” With PÈre Daniel, Lalemant, Raguenean, Gamier, and Davost, He built a mission house and chapel, watched by friend and foe, Thus raising a Christian altar where pagan orgies reigned, Upheld by a lofty purpose, by power divine sustained. Unwonted sounds and echoes woke the lonely forest aisles, The chant of ancient litanies down the weird, dim defiles; The pleading passionate prayer rose, swelled, and died away Down the vast corridors of the wilderness weird and gray. Thus besought were savage tribes to espouse the sacred cause, To abandon their pagan usages and barbaric laws. The story of the Cross and God’s infinite love was told By the fearless Jesuits, and passionately unrolled. But it fell on stolid ears, and the dark, benighted mind Of the Huron nation. A stoic heathenism, all blind, Repelled the Cross, and in derision turned away With muttered imprecations; and threatenings day by day Counting all suffering but gain, and even life no loss, If the cause of Christ with the Huron nation should prevail. Then let evil, every danger, e’en hell itself assail, They would lay their lives, their all, at the Saviour’s sacred feet: For their red brothers’ redemption they would all torture meet. For years they met with but discouragement, grief, and care, Scowls and menaces, distrust, and pe |
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