prosperous voyage.

A finer sight can scarcely be imagined than Mackinac, from the water. As
we steamed away from the shore, the view came full upon us--the sloping
beach with the scattered wigwams, and canoes drawn up here and
there--the irregular, quaint-looking houses--the white walls of the
fort, and, beyond, one eminence still more lofty crowned with the
remains of old Fort Holmes. The whole picture completed, showed the
perfect outline that had given the island its original Indian name,
_Mich-i-li-mack-i-nac_, the Big Turtle.

Then those pure, living waters, in whose depths the fish might be seen
gliding and darting to and fro; whose clearness is such that an object
dropped to the bottom may be discerned at the depth of fifty or sixty
feet, a dollar lying far down on its green bed, looking no larger than a
half dime! I could hardly wonder at the enthusiastic lady who exclaimed:
"Oh! I could wish to be drowned in these pure, beautiful waters!"

As we passed the extreme western point of the island, my husband pointed
out to me, far away to the northwest, a promontory which he told me was
Point St. Ignace. It possessed great historic interest, as one of the
earliest white settlements on this continent. The Jesuit missionaries
had established here a church and school as early as 1607, the same year
in which a white settlement was made at St. Augustine, in Florida, and
one year before the founding of Jamestown, Virginia.

All that remains of the enterprises of these devoted men, is the
remembrance of their labors, perpetuated, in most instances, only by the
names of the spots which witnessed their efforts of love in behalf of
their savage brethren. The little French church at Sandwich, opposite