hard upon me as to my voyage; but laid it home upon my conscience whether the blessing of saving thirty-seven souls was not worth venturing all I had in the world for.  I was not so sensible of that as he was.  I replied to him thus:  “Why, sir, it is a valuable thing, indeed, to be an instrument in God’s hand to convert thirty-seven heathens to the knowledge of Christ:  but as you are an ecclesiastic, and are given over to the work, so it seems so naturally to fall in the way of your profession; how is it, then, that you do not rather offer yourself to undertake it than to press me to do it?”

Upon this he faced about just before me, as he walked along, and putting me to a full stop, made me a very low bow.  “I most heartily thank God and you, sir,” said he, “for giving me so evident a call to so blessed a work; and if you think yourself discharged from it, and desire me to undertake it, I will most readily do it, and think it a happy reward for all the hazards and difficulties of such a broken, disappointed voyage as I have met with, that I am dropped at last into so glorious a work.”

I discovered a kind of rapture in his face while he spoke this to me; his eyes sparkled like fire; his face glowed, and his colour came and went; in a word, he was fired with the joy of being embarked in such a work.  I paused a considerable while before I could tell what to say to him; for I was really surprised to find a man of such sincerity, and who seemed possessed of a zeal beyond the ordinary rate of men.  But after I had considered it a while, I asked him seriously if he was in earnest, and that he would venture, on the single consideration of an attempt to convert those poor people, to be locked up in an unplanted island for perhaps his life, and at last might not know whether he should be able to do them good or not?  He turned short upon me, and asked me what I called a venture?  “Pray, sir,” said he, “what do you think I consented to go in your ship to the East Indies for?”—­“ay,” said I, “that I know not, unless it was to preach to the Indians.”—­ “Doubtless it was,” said he; “and do you think, if I can convert these thirty-seven men to the faith of Jesus Christ, it is not worth my time, though I should never be fetched off the island again?—­nay, is it not infinitely of more worth to save so many souls than my life is, or the life of twenty more of the same profession?  Yes, sir,” says he, “I would give God thanks all my days if I could be made the happy instrument of saving the souls of those poor men, though I were never to get my foot off this island or see my native country any more.  But since you will honour me with putting me into this work, for which I will pray for you all the days of my life, I have one humble petition to you besides.”—­ “What is that?” said I.—­“Why,” says he, “it is, that you will leave your man Friday with me, to be my interpreter to them, and to assist me; for without some help I cannot speak to them, or they to me.”