and, while the cool wind wandered over his hair and brow,
and shook overhead the graceful plumes of the cocoa-palm, he would talk
to them in low sweet tones, until the fireflies were twinkling in the
thicket and the stars stole out one after another in their silent
myriads, of One Who came from the highest Heaven to redeem them from
savagery and degradation, and to make them holy as He was holy, and pure
as He was pure. He was eminently successful; but when he had planted in
some islands the first seeds of a fruitful Christianity, he sailed to
other reefs, still carrying the everlasting gospel in his hands. One
evening as the little missionary ship, which Charlie himself had built,
drew near the land, they saw that the natives were drawn up in a
threatening attitude on the beach. Trusting to conciliate them by
kindness and by presents, the young missionary, taking with him a few
glittering trifles to attract their notice, proceeded with a small band
of followers towards the shore. At first the natives seemed inclined to
receive them well, but suddenly, by the wild impulse to which barbarians
are so liable, one of the savages pierced a sailor with his spear.
Evson, by an effort of strength, wrenched the weapon out of his hand and
told his men to take up the wounded sailor and retreat. This they
effected in safety, for the islanders were struck and awed by the young
Englishman's high bearing and firm attitude; and his eye fixed quietly
upon them kept them back. He was himself the last to step into the
boat, and, as he turned to do so, one of the wretches struck him on the
head with his accursed club. He fell stunned and bleeding upon the
beach, and in an instant was dispatched by the spears and clubs of a
hundred savages, while the boat's crew barely escaped with their lives,
and the little mission vessel, spreading all her sails, could with
difficulty elude the pursuit of the canoes, which swarmed out of the
creeks to give her chase. The corpse lay bleeding upon a nameless
strand, and the soft fair hair that a mother's hand had fondled and a
mother's lips had kissed, dangled as a trophy at the girdle of a
cannibal. Thus it was that Charlie died; and a marble tablet in Semlyn
Church, ornamented with the most delicate and exquisite sculpture,
records his tragic fate, and stands as a monument of his parents' tender
love. As a boy he had shown a martyr's dauntless spirit; as a man he
was suffered to win the rare and