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 open. This was followed by a general discharge of guns, in honor of the birth of the Infant Saviour, and three hundred voices rose spontaneously from the midst of the forest, and entoned in the language of the Pends d'Oreilles, the beautiful canticle: “Du Dieu puissant tout annonce la gloire.”—“The Almighty’s glory all things proclaim.” In a moment a multitude of adorers were seen wending their way to the humble temple of the Lord—resembling indeed, the manger in which the Messiah was born. On that night, which all at once became bright as day, they experienced, I know not what, that which made them exclaim aloud, “Oh God! I give Thee my heart.” Oh! I trust that the happy impression which this unwonted spectacle made upon their hearts, will never be effaced. Of {255} what was our little church of the wilderness constructed? I have already told you—of posts fresh cut in the woods, covered over with mats and bark; these were its only materials. On the eve, the church was embellished with garlands and wreaths of green boughs; forming, as it were, a frame for the images which represent the affecting mysteries of Christmas night. The interior was ornamented with pine branches. The altar was neatly decorated, bespangled with stars of various brightness, and covered with a profusion of ribbons—things exceedingly attractive to the eye of an Indian. At midnight I celebrated a solemn Mass, the Indians sang several canticles suitable to the occasion. That peace announced in the first verse of the Angelic hymn—“The Gloria,—Peace on earth to men of good will,” was, I venture to say, literally fulfilled to the Indians of the forest. A grand banquet, according to Indian custom, followed the first Mass. Some choice pieces of the animals slain in the chase had been set apart for the occasion. I ordered half a sack of flour, and a large boiler of sweetened coffee