' (Winter Reflections)
had this quality, but 'La Derniere Iroquoise' (The Last Iroquois) rose
above it, and like much of 'Les Fleurs Boreales' (Boreal Flowers) and
his latest work, it is powerful in spirit, yet retains the greatest
chastity of form.

M. Frechette translated several of Shakespeare's plays for the Theatre
Francais. After 'Les Fleurs Boreales' was crowned by the Academy,
there appeared 'Les Oiseaux de Neige' (The Snow-Birds), 'Feuilles
Volantes' (Leaves in the Wind), and 'La Foret Vierge' (The Virgin
Forest). The volume which shows the genius of Frechette at its highest
is undoubtedly 'La Legende d'un Peuple' (The Legend of a Race), which
has an admirable preface by Jules Claretie.

[Signature: Maurice Francis Egan]

OUR HISTORY

Fragments from 'La Legende d'un Peuple': translated by Maurice Francis
Egan

O history of my country,--set with pearls unknown,--
With love I kiss thy pages venerated.

O register immortal, poem of dazzling light
Written by France in purest of her blood!
Drama ever acting, records full of pictures
Of high facts heroic, stories of romance,
Annals of the giants, archives where we follow,
As each leaf we turn, a life resplendent,
And find a name respected or a name beloved,
Of men and women of the antique time!

Where the hero of the past and the hero of the future
Give the hand of friendship and the kiss of love;
Where the crucifix and sword, the plowshare and the volume,--
Everything that builds and everything that saves,--
Shine, united, living glories of past time
And of time that is to be.

The glories of past time, serene and pure before you,
O virtues of our day!
Hail first to thee, O Cartier, brave and hardy sailor,
Whose footstep sounded on the unexplored shores
Of our immense St. Lawrence. Hail, Champlain,
Maisonneuve, illustrious founders of two cities,
Who show above our waves their rival beauties.
There was at first only a group of Bretons
Brandishing the sword-blade and the woodman's axe,
Sea-wolves bronzed by sea-winds at the port of St. Malo;
Cradled since their childhood beneath the sky and water.
Men of iron and high of heart and stature,
They, under eye of God, set sail for what might come.
Seeking, in the secrets of the foggy ocean,
Not the famous El Dorados, but a soil where they might plant,
As symbols of their saving, beside the cross of Ch