ble self-sacrifice and disinterested philanthropy.

By good fortune, however, Captain Fitzroy was spared this part of the
expense. The survey of Tierra del Fuego and adjacent coasts had not
been completed, and another expedition was sent out by the British
Admiralty, and the command of it entrusted to him. So proceeding
thither in his old ship, the _Beagle_, once more in commission, he
carried his Fuegian _proteges_ along with him.

There went with him, also, a man then little known, but now of
world-wide and universal fame, a young naturalist named Darwin--Charles
Darwin--he who for the last quarter of a century and till his death has
held highest rank among men of science, and has truly deserved the
distinction.

York Minster, Jemmy Button, and Fuegia Basket (in their own country
respectively called Eleparu, Orundelico, and Ocushlu) were the three
odd-looking individuals that Ned and Henry had rescued from the
wharf-rats of Portsmouth; while the officer who appeared on the scene
was Fitzroy himself, then on the way to Plymouth, where the _Beagle_,
fitted out and ready to put to sea, was awaiting him.

In due time, arriving in Tierra del Fuego, the three natives were left
there, with every provision made for their future subsistence. They had
all the means and appliances to assist them in carrying out Captain
Fitzroy's humane scheme: carpentering tools, agricultural implements,
and a supply of seeds, with which to make a beginning. [Note 1.]

Since then nearly four years have elapsed, and lo!--the result. Perhaps
never were good intentions more thoroughly brought to nought, nor
clearer proofs given of their frustration, than these that Henry Chester
and Ned Gancy have now before their eyes. Though unacquainted with most
of the above details, they see a man, all but naked, his hair in matted
tangle, his skin besmeared with dirt and blubber, in everything and to
all appearances as rude a savage as any Fuegian around him, who is yet
the same whom they had once seen wearing the garb and having the manners
of civilisation! They see a girl, too,--now woman-grown--in whom the
change, though less extreme, is still strikingly sadly for the worse.
In both, the transformation is so complete, so retrograde, so contrary
to all experience, that they can scarcely realise it. It is difficult
to believe that any nature, however savage, after such pains had been
taken to civilise it, could so return to itself! It seems a ve