I returned to my room, and felt quite prepared myself. It would be an easy and a blessed thing to lead such a Congregation into the presence of the Lord! They were there already. On that day every person on Aniwa seemed to be at Church, except the bedridden and the sick. At the close of the Services, the Elders informed me that they had kept up all the Meetings during my absence, and had also conducted the Communicants’ Class, and they presented to me a considerable number of candidates for membership. After careful examination, I set apart nine boys and girls, about twelve or thirteen years of age, and advised them to wait for at least another year or so, that their knowledge and habits might be matured. They had answered every question, indeed, and were eager to be baptized and admitted; but I feared for their youth, lest they should fall away and bring disgrace on the Church. One of them, with very earnest eyes, looked at me and said,— “We have been taught that whosoever believeth is to be baptized. We do most heartily believe in Jesus, and try to please Jesus.” I answered,—“Hold on for another year, and then our way will be clear.” But he persisted,—“Some of us may not be living then; and you may not be here. We long to be baptized by you, our own Missi, and to take our place among the servants of Jesus.” After much conversation I agreed to baptize them, and they agreed to refrain from going to the Lord’s Table for a year; that all the Church might by that time have knowledge and proof of their consistent Christian life, though so young in years. This discipline, I thought, would be good for them; and the Lord might use it as a precedent for guidance in future days. Of other ten adults at this time admitted, one was specially noteworthy. She was about twenty-five, and the Elders objected because her marriage had not been according to the Christian usage on Aniwa. She left us weeping deeply. I was writing late at night in the cool evening air, as was my wont in that oppressive tropical clime, and a knock was heard at my door. I called out,— “_Akai era?_” (= Who is there?) A voice softly answered,—“Missi, it is Lamu. Oh, do speak with me!” This was the rejected candidate, and I at once opened the door. “Oh, Missi,” she began, “I cannot sleep, I cannot eat; my soul is in pain. Am I to be shut out from Jesus? Some of those at the Lord’s Table committed murder. They repented, and have been saved. My heart is very bad; yet I never did any of those crimes of Heathenism; and I know that it is my joy to try and please my Saviour Jesus. How is it that I only am to be shut out from Jesus?” I tried all I could to guide and console her, and she listened to all very eagerly. Then she looked up at me and said,—