s in 1632, Richelieu attacked the Emperor Ferdinand II
in great force, thereby conquering Alsace.

{137}

CHAPTER VI

CHAMPLAIN'S WRITINGS AND CHARACTER

There are some things that speak for themselves. In attempting to
understand Champlain's character, we are first met by the fact that he
pursued unflinchingly his appointed task. For thirty-two years he
persevered, amid every kind of hardship, danger, and discouragement, in
the effort to build up New France. He had personal ambitions as an
explorer, which were kept in strict subordination to his duty to the
king. He possessed concentration of aim without fanaticism. His
signal unselfishness was adorned by a patience which equalled that of
Marlborough. Inspired by large ideals, he did not scorn imperfect
means.

Thus there are certain large aspects of Champlain's character that
stand forth in the high light of deed, and do not depend for their
effect either upon his own words or those of others. But when once we
have paid tribute {138} to the fine, positive qualities which are
implied by his accomplishment, we must hasten to recognize the
extraordinary value of his writings as an index to his mind and soul.
His narrative is not an epic of disaster. It is a plain and even
statement of great dangers calmly met and treated as a matter of
course. Largely it is a record of achievement. At points where it is
a record of failure Champlain accepts the inevitable gracefully and
conforms his emotions to the will of God. The _Voyages_ reveal a
strong man 'well four-squared to the blows of fortune.' They also
illustrate the virtue of muscular Christianity.

At a time which, like ours, is becoming sated with cleverness, it is a
delight to read the unvarnished story of Champlain. In saying that the
adjective is ever the enemy of the noun, Voltaire could not have
levelled the shaft at him, for few writers have been more sparing in
their use of adjectives or other glowing words. His love of the sea
and of the forest was profound, but he is never emotional in his
expressions. Yet with all his soberness and steadiness he possessed
imagination. In its strength and depth his enthusiasm for colonization
proves this, even if we omit his picture of the fancied Ludovica. But
{139} as a man of action rather than of letters he instinctively omits
verbiage. In some respects we suffer from Champlain's directness of
mind, for on much that he saw he could have lingere