To them the dark child of the
forests, savage in nature, untamed in habit, was still a brother who
must be lifted to a higher life. And to do this they lived among them
as teachers and advisers rather than as conquerors.

In these pages all the heroes of the French occupation appear before
us as in their daily life with the Indians: Marquette, La Salle,
Tonti, Frontenac, Du Gorgues--whose visit of vengeance is so well
described that he is forever remembered by the Indians as an avenger
of their race--and the men of lesser note. We have also a picture of
the Hurons, the Iroquois, and other tribes as they appeared to the
early French settlers; and in fact Parkman has left no phase or detail
of the movement untouched. It was a vast undertaking, and carried out
in the midst of many difficulties, and its completion placed Parkman's
name among the greatest historians of all time.

Parkman suffered from ill-health from his earliest years throughout
his life, and to this was added partial blindness, which made his
literary work as great a task as that of Prescott. Very often he was
interrupted for months and years by illness, and in the main he had
to depend upon the help of others in collecting his material; but his
purpose never faltered, and the end was brilliant with success.

CHAPTER XVII

OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES

1809-1894

Among the boys most familiar with the scenes described in Lowell's
recollections of his youth was Oliver Wendell Holmes, the son of the
pastor of the First Congregational Church at Cambridge. Holmes was
ten years older than Lowell, but Cambridge altered little between the
birthtimes of the two poets, and in the writings of both are embalmed
many loving memories of the old village.

In his reminiscence of the famous Commencement week, so faithfully
described by Lowell, Holmes says, "I remember that week well, for
something happened to me once at that time, namely, I was born." Many
after-touches show us how the great week possessed for Holmes the same
magic charm it held for Lowell. The wonders of the menagerie where he
beheld for the first time a live tiger, the side-show where he enjoyed
the delights of Punch and Judy, and gazed with awe at the biggest live
fat boy known to showmen, and the marvels of the toy-counter, over
which hung the inscription,

"Look, but handle not,"

shared honors with the Governor's parade, and Commencement exercises,
and in fact far out-ranked them with