We turn from the humble Marquette, thanking God with his last breath that
he died for his Order and his faith; and by our side stands the masculine
form of Cavelier de la Salle. Prodigious was the contrast between the two
discoverers: the one, with clasped hands and upturned eyes, seems a figure
evoked from some dim legend of mediaeval saintship; the other, with feet
firm planted on the hard earth, breathes the self-relying energies of
modern practical enterprise. Nevertheless, La Salle was a man wedded to
ideas, and urged by the steady and considerate enthusiasm, which is the
life-spring of heroic natures. Three thoughts, rapidly developing in his
mind, were mastering him, and engendering an invincible purpose. First, he
would achieve that which Champlain had vainly attempted, and of which our
own generation has but now seen the accomplishment,--the opening of a
passage to India and China across the American continent. Next, he would
occupy the Great West, develop its commercial resources, and anticipate
the Spaniards and the English in the possession of it. Thirdly,--for he
soon became convinced that the Mississippi discharged itself into the Gulf
of Mexico,--he would establish a fortified post at its mouth, thus
securing an outlet for the trade of the interior, checking the progress of
the Spaniards, and forming a base, whence, in time of war, their northern
provinces could be invaded and conquered.

Here were vast projects, projects perhaps beyond the scope of private
enterprise, conceived and nursed in the brain of a penniless young man.
Two conditions were indispensable to their achievement. The first was the
countenance of the Canadian authorities, and the second was money. There
was but one mode of securing either, to appeal to the love of gain of
those who could aid the enterprise. Count Frontenac had no money to give;
but he had what was no less to the purpose, the resources of an arbitrary