ople, no doubt, interested in missions--who know all about
the persecutions in Madagascar. Is it in connection with this that you
have been outlawed?"

"It is. Ranavalona, the blood-stained usurper, our present queen, is
filled with such bitter hatred of Christianity that she has for many
years persecuted the native Christians who have been taught by white
missionaries from your land. Hundreds of men and women have been
murdered by her orders because they refused to forsake Christ; others
have been banished to regions so unhealthy that they have died, and many
have been sold into slavery."

The eyes of the guide gleamed for a moment, and his stern countenance
flushed as he thus referred to the sorrows of his people, but by a
strong effort he controlled his feelings, and his countenance resumed
its habitual quietude.

"My mother and my sister and I," he continued, "were sold into slavery.
My mother was a native lady, high in station, and a member of the court
of King Radama the First, who was very favourable to Missionaries. I
was an infant at that time; my little sister was not born. My father
was an English trader, skilled in many handicrafts, and a great
favourite with the king, who fostered the Christian religion and helped
those who came to teach us. Our teachers learned our language; taught
us the love of God, and, through the power of the Holy Spirit, brought
many of us to the Saviour. But they were persevering and wise as well
as good. Having learned our language--in which my father helped them
much--they taught us to read; translated many parts of the Word of God
into our tongue; sent home for presses and types, and had these printed,
as well as the _Pilgrim's Progress_ and other books.

"Peace, joy, and prosperity were spreading in our land. Idol-worship
and cruel customs were being uprooted, and everything was going well
when the king died--whether a Christian or not, who can tell? for,
although favourable to, he never professed, Christianity. `The Lord
knoweth them that are His!' The rightful heir to the throne, according
to our customs, was Rakotobe--a good young man who had been taught by
the missionaries, and was nephew to the king; but Ranavalona, one of the
king's wives, resolved to seize the opportunity. A bold bad woman, with
a powerful will and no principle, she carried her point by reckless
bloodshed. There were men at court as bad as herself who agreed to aid
her. When she boldly c