the journey. As he coasted along the eastern shore of Lake Michigan, his strength gradually failed, and he was at last so weak that he could no longer help himself, but had to be lifted in and out of his canoe when they landed each night. At last, perceiving the mouth of a river, he pointed to an eminence near by, and told his companions that it was the place of his last repose. They wished, however, to pass on, as the weather was fine and the day not far advanced; but a wind soon arose which compelled them to return and enter the river pointed out by the dying missionary. They carried him ashore, erected a little bark cabin, kindled a fire, and made him as comfortable as they could. Having heard the confessions of his companions, and encouraged them to rely with confidence on the protection of God, Marquette now sent them away, to take the repose they so much needed. Two or three hours afterward, he felt his end approaching, and summoned his companions to his side. Taking his crucifix from around his neck, and placing it in their hands, he pronounced, in a firm voice, his profession of faith, and thanked the Almighty for the favor of permitting him to die a Jesuit, a missionary, and alone. Then, his face all radiant with joy, and his eyes raised, as if in ecstasy, above his crucifix, with the words "Jesus" and "Mary" upon his lips, he passed from the scene of his labors to his rest in heaven. After the first outbursts of grief were over, his companions arranged his body for burial, and, to the sound of his little chapel bell, bore it slowly to the spot which he himself had designated, where they committed it to the earth, raising a large cross to mark his last resting-place. This occurred on the 18th day of May, 1675, in the thirty-eighth year of his age. Two years later, and almost on the anniversary of this event, a party of Indians whom Marquette had himself instructed at Lapointe, visited his grave, on their return from their Winter hunting-grounds, and resolved to disinter their good father, and bear his revered bones to the Mission of St. Ignatius, at Mack inac, where they resided. They therefore opened the grave, and, according to custom, dissected the body, washing the bones and drying them in the sun. When this was done, a neat box of birch bark was prepared, into which the bones were placed, and the flotilla, now become a funeral convoy, proceeded on its way. Only the dip of the paddles and the sighs of the Indians broke the silence, as the funeral cortege advanced. When nearing the Mackinac, the missionaries, accompanied by many of the Indians of the place, went to meet them, and there, upon the waters, rose "De Profundis," which continued till the coffined remains of the good father reached the land. With the usual ceremonies, his bones were then borne to the church, where, beneath a pall stretched as if over a coffin, they remained during the day, when they were deposited in a little vault in the middle of the church, "where," says the chronicler, "he still reposes as the guardian angel of our Ottawa Mission." Thus did Marquette accomplish, in death, the voyage which life had not enabled him to terminate. In the life of this humble and unpretending missionary and explorer, there is much to admire. Though an heir to wealth and position in his native land, he voluntarily separated himself from his friends, and chose a life of sacrifice, toil, and death, that he might ameliorate the moral and spiritual condition of nations sunk in paganism and vice. His disposition was cheerful under all circumstances. His rare qualities of mind and heart secured for him the esteem of all who knew him. He was a man of sound sense and close observation, not disposed to exaggerate, not egotistical. His motives were pure, and his efforts earnest. His intellectual abilities must have been of no ordinary type; his letters show him to have been a man of education, and, though but nine years a missionary among the Indians, he spoke six languages with ease, and understood less perfectly many others. With Marquette, religion was the controlling idea. The salvation of a soul was more than the conquest of an empire. He was careful to avoid all appearance of a worldly or national mission among the savages. On many a hill-side and in many a shady vale did he set up the cross, but nowhere did he carve the "Lilies of the Bourbons." His devotion to the "Blessed Virgin" was tender and all-absorbing. From early youth to his latest breath she was the constant object of his adoration; no letter ever came from his hand which did not contain the words "Blessed Virgin Immaculate," and it was with her name upon his lips that he closed his eyes in death, as gently as though sinking into a quiet slumber. Marquette was a Catholic, yet he is not the exclusive property of that people he belongs alike to all. His name is written in the hearts of the good of every class. he will live in the annals of the American people forever. As an explorer, "He died young, but there are silvered heads The history of the Mission of St. Ignace, after its founder embarked on that voyage which immortalized his name, may be told in few words. Marquette was succeeded by Father Pierson, who, in 1674, found it necessary to erect a new and more commodious church, as a large band of Ottawas had settled near. In the Spring of 1677, prior to the transfer of Marquette's remains to the mission, Father Nouvel arrived, and took charge of the Ottawa portion of the mission, leaving the Hurons to Father Pierson. In the following year, the mission was again consolidated, and Father Enjalran appointed missionary. This father continued at the mission for several years, but after him we know little of its history. In 1706, the missionaries, becoming disheartened, burned down their college and chapel, and returned to Quebec. CHAPTER II. PRIOR RIOR to 1679, little had been done toward exploring and colonizing the great North-west, save by the humble disciples of Ignatius Loyola; but at that date commercial enterprise entered the field, and the missionary spirit took a subordinate place in the onward march of civilization. When Joliet returned from his voyage down the Mississippi, the young, energetic and adventurous Robert Cavalier de la Salle, then Lord of Fort Frontenac, had already planned an expedition across the Great Lakes to the shores of the Pacific, hoping thereby to find a short passage to China. The news of the brilliant discoveries made by Marquette and Joliet kindled the sanguinary mind of this young enthusiast, and induced him to redouble his exertions to carry out his design. With plans for the colonization of the South-west, and commerce between Europe and the Mississippi, La Salle now visited M. de Frontenac, Governor-General of Canada, and laid before him the dim but gigantic outlines of his project. He aimed at the extension of French power by the construction of a chain of fortifications at the most prominent points along the lakes and rivers of the West. Frontenac entered warmly into La Salle's plans, and advised him to apply directly to the King of France. This he accordingly did; and, meeting with favor at the French Court, he obtained a commission for perfecting the discovery of the "Great River," dated May 12, 1678, and signed by Colbert, and also the monopoly of the traffic in buffalo skins. He was, however, forbidden to carry on trade with the Ottawas and other tribes of the lakes, who were accustomed to carry their furs to Montreal. On his return to Quebec, he found Father Louis Hennepin, a friar of the Franciscan order, "daring, vain, and determined," says Lahnman, says Lahnman, "ambitious to reap the glory of discovery, and not too scrupulous as to the means," who had been appointed by his superiors as acting missionary to accompany the expedition. Though beset by difficulties on every hand, which would have appeared formidable to any man of moderate soul, La Salle now pushed forward with the utmost dispatch. Late in November, he left Fort Frontenac, navigated Ontario in a little vessel of ten tons, and, having pushed as near to the Falls as could be done with safety, disembarked. Here the provisions, anchors, chains, merchandise, etc., must be carried beyond the cataract to the calm water above, a distance of at least twelve miles. Impeded by deep snows, gloomy forests, and rugged heights, this task was not finished until the 22d day of January. During the remainder of the Winter and the early part of the succeeding Summer, a vessel of sixty tons burden, called the Griffin, was constructed, and other preparations perfected, for the prosecution of the enterprise. On the 7th day of August, 1679, amid the firing of cannon and the chanting of the Te Deum, the sails were unfurled, and the little vessel ventured out upon Lake Erie. In all, there were thirty-four men on board, mostly fur-traders for the valley of the Mississippi. Among them was Hennepin, the journalist of the expedition, and two other monks, who had joined them at the mouth of the Cayuga, where the Griffin was built. For three days she boldly held her course over these unknown waters, where sail had never been seen before, and then turned to the northward, "between the verdant isles of the majestic Detroit." Here, on either hand, was spread out the finest scenery that had ever delighted the Frenchman's eye. Verdant prairies, dotted with groves and bordered with lofty forests of walnut, chestnut, wild-plum, and oak, festooned with grape-vines, stretched away as far as the eye could reach. Hennepin wondered that nature, without the help of art, could have |