son could join them, he never forgot the grand object of his
voluntary exile, or ceased to pray that the Lord would be pleased to
open 'a great door and effectual,' before him, and enable him to bring
many of the savage and ignorant natives into the fold of Christ. In
all these plans he was warmly seconded by Edward Winslow, but hitherto
no such opening had appeared and the sickness and distress which
prevailed in the settlement gave full occupation to them and to their
brother elders. During all the period of Henrich's tedious illness, not
a day passed in which Brewster did not visit the suffering boy to
cheer him, to soothe him, and, above all, to prepare him for that
better world to which he then believed he was surely hastening. To
these visits Henrich looked forward with delight; and often, when
domestic business called away his mother and Janet, the minister would
remain with him for hours, seated on a low stool by of his bed, and
read to him, or talk to him, in a strain so holy and yet so cheerful,
that Edith would leave her work and softly seat herself on Henrich's
couch, that she might catch his every word, while little Ludovico would
cease from his noisy sports, and creep up on the good man's knee, and
fix his large soft eyes on his sweet and noble countenance.

These hours were not unimproved by Henrich. His character was formed,
and his principles were fixed, and his mind and spirit grew strong and
ripe beyond his years. Never were these hours of peaceful happiness
forgotten; and often amid the strange and stirring scenes which it was
his lot in after-life to witness and to share, did he bless the over-
ruling providence of God, which had laid him on a bed of pain and
weakness, that he might learn lessons of piety and of usefulness, which
otherwise he would never have acquired.

It was while they were thus happily engaged one afternoon, when Henrich
was slowly recovering his strength, that the elder and his young
audience were startled by wild and discordant sounds, mingled with
cries of fear, which proceeded from the outskirts of the straggling
village, and seemed to be approaching. Henrich raised himself on his
bed, and a look of terror overspread his countenance, as he exclaimed:
'It is the war cry of the savages! O! I know it well! Go, Mr.
Brewster, fly! save my mother. I will follow you.'

And the brave boy tried to leap from the couch, and reach his father's
sword, which hung against the wooden w