The man from Honolulu--miserable, leering creature--communicated the tale to a rude knot of beach-combing drinkers in a public-house, where (I will so far agree with your temperance opinions) man is not always at his noblest; and the man from Honolulu had himself been drinking--drinking, we may charitably fancy, to excess.

It was to your 'Dear Brother, the Reverend H.B.Gage,' that you chose to communicate the sickening story; and the blue ribbon which adorns your portly bosom forbids me to allow you the extenuating plea that you were drunk when it was done.

Your 'dear brother'-- a brother indeed--made haste to deliver up your letter (as a means of grace, perhaps) to the religious papers; where, after many months, I found and read and wondered at it; and whence I have now reproduced it for the wonder of others.

And you and your dear brother have, by this cycle of operations, built up a contrast very edifying to examine in detail.

The man whom you would not care to have to dinner, on the one side; on the other, the Reverend Dr.
Hyde and the Reverend H.B.Gage: the Apia bar-room, the Honolulu manse.
But I fear you scarce appreciate how you appear to your fellow-men; and to bring it home to you, I will suppose your story to be true.