The journals of the country were already publishing his
sonnets, odes and songs. His acrostics were sought after to grace the
albums of fair ladies. Even the volunteers of Canada asked him for
war-songs, which are happily more frequently heard in drawing-rooms
than in camps. The young student did not possess himself. He was
already the property of the country, and the Institutes of Justinian
were put aside for the more pleasing task of framing idyllic pictures
of poetic genius. In fact, Cremazie was almost forgotten, and the name
of Frechette was on every tongue. Mr. Taschereau tried to reclaim the
poet to his legal duties, and give him the place of Mr. Faucher de St.
Maurice in his office. Mr. Frechette accepted the sinecure, but no
sooner had he done so than Mr. Faucher returned, anxious, no doubt,
for good and congenial company. Judge of my happiness, with Frechette
and Faucher in my office, and I their humble patron. I thought I would
succeed in converting my friends, but in this I failed, for they led
me on their own paths until I myself began to versify, and, instead of
reading Pothier, read 'proofs' of verses. As it is, Mr. Frechette did
become a lawyer; but Mr. Faucher abandoned the pursuit - he retired
from my office, lost forever to Themis, but safe to the cause of
literature. The departure of my young friends saved me.
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