ssionary meeting was to be held forthwith, and
that the native missionary, the Rev. William Habakkuk, from--(the
colony from which I had started on my adventures), would be
introduced, and make a short address. After some little difficulty I
obtained admission, and heard two or three speeches, which were
prefatory to the introduction of Mr. Habakkuk. One of these struck me
as perhaps the most presumptuous that I had ever heard. The speaker
said that the races of whom Mr. Habakkuk was a specimen, were in all
probability the lost ten tribes of Israel. I dared not contradict him
then, but I felt angry and injured at hearing the speaker jump to so
preposterous a conclusion upon such insufficient grounds. The
discovery of the ten tribes was mine, and mine only. I was still in
the very height of indignation, when there was a murmur of expectation
in the hall, and Mr. Habakkuk was brought forward. The reader may
judge of my surprise at finding that he was none other than my old
friend Chowbok!

My jaw dropped, and my eyes almost started out of my head with
astonishment. The poor fellow was dreadfully frightened, and the storm
of applause which greeted his introduction seemed only to add to his
confusion. I dare not trust myself to report his speech--indeed I could
hardly listen to it, for I was nearly choked with trying to suppress my
feelings. I am sure that I caught the words "Adelaide, the Queen
Dowager," and I thought that I heard "Mary Magdalene" shortly afterwards,
but I had then to leave the hall for fear of being turned out. While on
the staircase, I heard another burst of prolonged and rapturous applause,
so I suppose the audience were satisfied.

The feelings that came uppermost in my mind were hardly of a very solemn
character, but I thought of my first acquaintance with Chowbok, of the
scene in the woodshed, of the innumerable lies he had told me, of his
repeated attempts upon the brandy, and of many an incident which I have
not thought it worth while to dwell upon; and I could not but derive some
satisfaction from the hope that my own efforts might have contributed to
the change which had been doubtless wrought upon him, and that the rite
which I had performed, however unprofessionally, on that wild upland
river-bed, had not been wholly without effect. I trust that what I have
written about him in the earlier part of my book may not be libellous,
and that i