ual moment been described by the discoverer himself.

Among the many writings which are available for comparison and contrast
one turns, singularly yet inevitably, to Lescarbot. The singularity of
a comparison between Champlain and Lescarbot is that Lescarbot was not a
geographer. At the same time, he is the only writer of importance whose
trail crosses that of Champlain, and some light is thrown on Champlain's
personality by a juxtaposition of texts. That is to say, both were in
Acadia at the same time, sat together at Poutrincourt's table, gazed
on the same forests and clearings, met the same Indians, and had a like
opportunity of considering the colonial problems which were thrust upon
the French in the reign of Henry IV.

It would be hard to find narratives more dissimilar,--and the contrast
is not wholly to the advantage of Champlain. Or rather, there are times
when his Doric simplicity of style seems jejune beside the flowing
periods and picturesque details of Lescarbot. No better illustration
of this difference in style, arising from fundamental difference in
temperament, can be found than the description which each gives of the
Ordre de Bon Temps. To Champlain belongs the credit of inventing this
pleasant means of promoting health and banishing ennui, but all he tells
of it is this: 'By the rules of the Order a chain was put, with some
little ceremony, on the neck of one of our company, commissioning him
for the day to go a-hunting. The next day it was conferred upon another,
and thus in succession. All exerted themselves to the utmost to see who
would do the best and bring home the finest game. We found this a very
good arrangement, as did also the savages who were with us.'

Such is the limit of the information which we receive from Champlain
regarding the Ordre de Bon Temps, his own invention and the life of the
company. It is reserved for Lescarbot to give us the picture which
no one can forget--the Atoctegic, or ruler of the feast, leading the
procession to dinner 'napkin on shoulder, wand of office in hand, and
around his neck the collar of the Order, which was worth more than four
crowns; after him all the members of the Order, carrying each a dish.'
Around stand the savages, twenty or thirty of them, 'men, women, girls,
and children,' all waiting for scraps of food. At the table with the
French themselves sits the Sagamos Membertou and the other Indian
chiefs, gladdening the company by their presence. A