ng to the shrieks, and witnessing
the convulsions of their agonized victims at the stake, denounced the
Christian teacher, as the Jews denounced the Son of God, crying out
"Crucify him."

Every day Father Marquette was sinking in languor, which both he and
his companions supposed to be a monition of speedily approaching death.
And yet he was a cheerful and happy man. All incomers at his cabin were
greeted with smiles. Death had no terror. Brighter and brighter grew
the path, as he drew nearer to the celestial city. His log-cabin was
continually crowded with those who sought instruction. The two humble
companions who attended him were devout men, though uneducated, and in
life's lowly station. They joined heartily in the devotions of the
cabin. The voices of the three were joined in matins and vespers, and
floated sweetly over those dreary wastes, where such heavenly strains
had never been heard before.

Louis XIV. was then upon the throne of France. He was one of the
greatest, most powerful, most opulent of all earthly monarchs. The
wealth and the genius of earth could construct nothing more grand than
his palaces at Marly and Versailles. His banqueting-hall was
unsurpassed by any other hall ever reared upon this globe. His
chambers, his saloons, his galleries, are still visited by astonished
and admiring thousands. And yet no one, familiar with his life, will
deny that Father Marquette, in his log-cabin, surrounded by Indian
wigwams, probably passed a happier winter than did Louis XIV., amidst
the most dazzling splendors which ever surrounded a mortal.

Christmas came. It was made by the three a season of special devotion,
that God would so reinvigorate Father Marquette, as to enable him to
fulfil his promise, and visit the Illinois Indians, and teach them the
Gospel. These devotions were called a Novena, which was a nine days'
prayer-meeting. Their prayers were heard. Contrary to all reasonable
expectation, he so far regained his strength as to be able, on the 29th
of March, to resume his journey. The chill winds of departing winter
still swept the plains. Storms of sleet often beat upon them. The
ground, alternately thawing and freezing, was frequently whitened with
snow. And still these heroic men, with chivalry never surpassed in the
annals of knighthood, pressed on. Their journey was slow. Sometimes
they floated upon the stream. Again they followed the Indian trail
through forest and prairie. After traversing a