“There I agree with you; in the present high state of civilization there will be found little or no difference in the manners and customs of people; in the courts, none; very little in the best society, in which you will of course mix; and not so very much as people may imagine among the mass of population; but the scenery of the countries and the remains of ancient times are still interesting, and will afford pleasure; it must be your own reflections and comments upon what you see which must make it profitable; most people, however, travel from the love of change added to the love of excitement.”

“I grant it, sir, and I do not mean to say but that I should receive much pleasure from a continental tour; perhaps I may add that I should derive more profit if I were to delay it till I am a little older and a little wiser; do you not think so?”

“I certainly do, Alexander.  What then? do you propose remaining in England for the present?—­if so, I am sure it is on my account, and I am very grateful to you for your sacrifice.”

“If you wish it, sir, I will undoubtedly remain in England; at all events, if I do not go elsewhere.  I have abandoned my continental tour for the present; but I have another proposal to make, which I hope will meet with your approbation.”

“Why, my dear Alexander, on what expedition would you now proceed?  Do you wish to visit the United States or South America?”

“No, sir; I wish to make a voyage of still more interest—­I wish to go to Africa,—­that is, to embark for the Cape of Good Hope, and from thence proceed to the northward, to ascertain, if possible, what now is a source of sad disquiet to you, the actual fate of those who were wrecked in the Grosvenor, and have not since been heard of with any degree of certainty.”

Sir Charles was for a time silent.  He pressed his hands to his forehead; at last he removed them, and said,—­“I can not, much as I wish it, no,—­I can not consent, my dear boy; the danger will be too great.  You must not risk your life.  It is very kind of you—­very kind; but no, it must not be.”

“Indeed, sir, I think, on reflection, you will alter your mind.  As for danger—­what danger can there be when missionaries are permitted to form their stations, and reside uninjured among the very savages who were so hostile when the Grosvenor was lost?  The country, which was then a desert, is now inhabited by Europeans, within 200 miles of the very spot where the Grosvenor was wrecked.  The continual emigration since the Cape has fallen under British government, and the zeal of those who have braved all dangers to make known the Word of God to the heathen and idolater, have in forty years made such an alteration, that I see no more danger in the mission which I propose than I do in a visit to Naples; and as for time, I have every reason to expect that I shall be back sooner than in the two years which you have proposed for my stay on the continent.”