of God, come into these remote regions to make Him known
to the wretched idolators."

We hastened to him. I was not wrong. He was one of those zealous and
courageous Christians who devote their energies and their lives to the
instruction and eternal salvation of men born in another hemisphere, of
another colour, uncivilized, but not less our brothers. I had quitted
Europe with the same intention, but Providence had ordered it
otherwise; yet I met with joy one of my Christian brethren, and, unable
to speak from emotion, I silently embraced him. He spoke to me in
English--a language I had fortunately learned myself, and taught to my
children--and his words fell on my soul like the message of the angel to
Abraham, commanding him to spare his son.

"You are the person I am seeking," said he, in a mild and tender tone,
"and I thank Heaven that I have met with you. This youth is Fritz, your
eldest son, I conclude; but where have you left your second
son, Ernest?"

"Reverend man," cried Fritz, seizing his hands, "you have seen my
brother Jack. Perhaps my mother? You know where they are. Oh! are
they living?"

"Yes, they are living, and well taken care of," said the missionary;
"come, and I will lead you to them."

It was, indeed, necessary to lead me; I was so overcome with joy, that I
should have fainted, but the good missionary made me inhale some
volatile salts which he had about him; and supported by him and my son,
I managed to walk. My first words were a thanksgiving to God for his
mercy; then I implored my good friend to tell me if I should indeed see
my wife and children again. He assured me that an hour's walk would
bring me to them; but I suddenly recollected Ernest, and refused to
present myself before the beloved ones while he was still in danger. The
missionary smiled, as he told me he expected this delay, and wished to
know where we had left Ernest. I recounted to him our arrival in the
island, and the purpose for which we had left Ernest; with our intention
of returning to him as soon as we saw the canoe pass, hoping to obtain
some intelligence from the savages.

"But how could you have made yourselves understood?" said he; "are you
acquainted with their language?"

I told him Ernest had studied the vocabulary of the South Sea islanders.

"Doubtless that of Tahiti, or the Friendly Islands," said he; "but the
dialect of these islanders differs much from theirs. I have resided here
more than a year, and