The young man we picked up two days ago is better. He takes more to me than to any one else, yet he is reserved even to me. His name is, he says, Joseph Bent, and the brig was the _Wanderer_. I suspect that he is one of those castaways who have fled from the restraints of parents, or pastors and masters, and that he has been reaping the fruits of his folly, and found them bitter. The brig undoubtedly visited the island of which we have heard, and her crew were the men who committed those black deeds of which I have spoken, but do not here again describe. How soon are they all sent to their dread accounts except this youth! Great is his astonishment when I speak to him of what was done, and of the poor natives so barbarously carried away. "The vengeance of a pure and just God quickly finds out the doers of such deeds," I remark. "And, Joseph, my friend, where would you now have been had you not been rescued by the hand of mercy from the jaws of death?" "In torment--in torment!" he shrieks out; "in everlasting torments! Rightly condemned--rightly condemned!" "But, think you not, that the same loving hand which saved your life from destruction will preserve your far more precious soul from death eternal if you will but believe in His power and will to save you? Do not have any doubts on the subject. The most guilty are entreated to repent and to come to Jesus--the loving Saviour--the Friend of sinners." "These are strange words you speak, mate," said the young man sitting up and looking earnestly at me. "Not strange, friend," say I. "Thousands and thousands of times have they been spoken before to the saving of many a perishing soul. Let them not be spoken to you in vain." Thus do I continue for some time, till I see tears starting into the eyes of the young man. The knowledge of a Saviour's love softens his heart, while his sins still make him afraid. "I remember to have heard words like those you have been speaking, mate, long, long ago," he observes. "I forgot them till now. They sound sweetly to my ears." "Never forget them again, friend," I answered, having now to go on deck to keep my watch.