they hit upon one of those schemes that have been so much applauded through all Christian Europe, under the name of "happy devices,"—"profound strokes of policy,"—"chefs d'œuvres of statesmanship,"—that is, in plain terms, plans of the most wretched deceit, generally for the compassing of some piece of diabolical butchery or oppression. The "happy device," in this instance, was to profess a desire for peace and alliance, in order to get the most able Indian chiefs into their power before they struck the decisive blow. There was a Jesuit missionary residing amongst the Iroquois—the worthy Lamberville. This good man, like his brethen in the South, whose glorious labours and melancholy fate we have already traced, had won the confidence of the Iroquois by his unaffected piety, his constant kindness, and his skill in healing their differences and their bodily ailments. They looked upon him as a father and a friend. The French, on their part, regarded this as a fortunate circumstance,—not as one might have imagined, because it gave them a powerful means of reconciliation and alliance with this people, but because it gave them a means of effecting their murderous scheme. They assured Lamberville that they were anxious to effect a lasting peace with the Iroquois, for which purpose they begged him to prevail on them to send their principal chiefs to meet them in conference. He found no difficulty in doing this, such was their faith in him. The chiefs appeared, and were immediately clapped in irons, embarked at Quebec, and sent to the galleys!
I suppose there are yet men calling themselves Christians, and priding themselves on the depth of their policy, that will exclaim—"Oh, capital!—what
