tect me. When I found myself so unexpectedly preserved, I
remembered the prayer I had uttered, and resolved to give myself to the
service of God in any way He might open out for me. You now know my
brief history, Miss Liddiard. I felt bound to give it you, but I am
unwilling to trouble you with more than I have already told you about
myself. My name is Charles Norton."

"You can have no difficulty in finding opportunities of serving God, Mr
Norton," I exclaimed. "When we see thousands and tens of thousands of
human beings scattered about this broad Pacific ignorant of Him, and
given over to abominable heathen practices, all requiring to be fed with
the bread of life. Why should you not prepare yourself to go forth as a
missionary among them?"

"I feel that I am too unworthy and sinful to undertake so serious an
office," he said humbly.

"No human being could be qualified to go forth as a missionary of the
gospel trusting alone to his own merits, and no one would be found to
undertake the office were all influenced by the opinion you express," I
observed. "All must feel their unworthiness and we must take God at His
word, and believe that the blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth from all sin,
and then go forth and declare what great things He has done for us. I
repeat what I have heard my father say:--We must not trust to our
feelings, but we must believe that God is a rewarder of those who
diligently serve Him, not only of those who have all along done so."

"You have given me new life and hope," exclaimed the young man.
"Henceforth, if my life is spared, after having prepared myself for the
task, I will devote it to making known the gospel to the poor heathens
of these regions."

CHAPTER EIGHT.

WHILE ON OUR PASSAGE IN THE CANOE A STORM ARISES.--WE ARE DRIVEN FAR
AWAY TO LEEWARD OF THE ISLAND.--ABELA INSTRUCTS TOFA IN THE TRUTH.--
SCARCITY OF FOOD AND WATER.--OUR SUFFERINGS BECOME INTENSE.--THE NATIVE
CREW GIVE WAY TO DESPAIR.

Although the sea was rough the canoe had made good progress towards our
destination when night came on. The wind had been increasing, and I saw
the natives looking anxiously at the sky, which had become overcast.
The darkness was intense, and we had no compass in the canoe by which to
direct our course. The native boatmen, however, continued steering on,
trusting to the wind, which had remained steadily blowing from one
quarter. Still, as the waves rose, and our frail canoe pit