Mary Liddiard | Page 2

It was the mission chapel erected by the native Christians. At a
short distance from it was Mr Liddiard's residence, a neat cottage with
a broad verandah in front, partaking more of the European style than
any of the other edifices.
Under the shade of the trees were numerous huts, inhabited by the
converts, who had left their former homes and gathered round their
pastor. Among them was a hut somewhat larger than the rest, which
had been built by the zealous native teacher Nanari, who had come
from a distant island to bring the glad tidings of salvation to the people;
and undaunted by the opposition of the heathens, had long laboured
alone, until the arrival of Mr Liddiard, under whom he now acted as
catechist and assistant.
Notwithstanding the unceasing exertions and prayers of Nanari, aided
by his faithful wife, and of Mr and Mrs Liddiard, comparatively few of
the natives had as yet been gathered into Christ's fold. The greater part
of the island was inhabited by fierce heathens, who still carried on
frequent wars against each other; and angry with their countrymen for
having abandoned the faith of their forefathers, constantly threatened
them and the missionaries with destruction.
In spite of the dangers which surrounded him, Mr Liddiard continued
dauntlessly to labour to win souls to Christ, knowing well in whom he
trusted; and that although it might not be allowed to him while on earth
to see the fruit of his toils, yet that a rich harvest would some day be
reaped.
The missionary's life was not an idle one. When not engaged in
preaching the gospel or in giving instruction to his converts, he was
compelled to work with his hands to obtain his daily food, and he and
Nanari, with the young men who had become Christians, were engaged
in the taro grounds or in their gardens, attending to the cultivation of
the bread-fruit tree, yams, casavas, sweet potatoes, and other vegetables.
He had also built his own house, and manufactured his furniture, and
had every day some manual work to perform besides being engaged in
studying the language and translating the Bible and other works, for the
instruction of the natives. Thus, from morning till night, he and his wife

were actively employed. Although Mary and little Maud could now
give them some assistance in household matters, the young girls
themselves required instruction, which also occupied a portion of their
time. Maud was not their own child, though they had educated her, for
she was friendless and destitute, and they loved her as a daughter.
To return to the school-house I have described. I should say that I was
the Mary I have mentioned, the missionary's daughter. I will tell more
about little Maud by-and-by. We used to act as assistant teachers to my
mother. As soon as the address she had given was over we went among
the girls to answer any questions they might put to us, or to help in their
tasks.
"Malay," said a girl at the further end of the room, near whom I had
seated myself (`Malay' was the name the natives always called me). "I
wish to know if your God always sees you."
"Yes, indeed, He does," I answered. "He sees and knows everything I
think and say and do."
"Then I would rather not lotu," she said. "Because I don't think that the
gods of my people know what they do, or what they think or say, and I
am very sure that I shall wish to do many things which might displease
them. Not long ago I laughed and jeered at them, and I am sure that
they did not find me out."
The term "lotu," I should explain, is used by the natives to signify
changing their religion, or becoming Christians.
"But our God, Jehovah, is above all gods. He made the world and all
the human race, and He therefore knows everything that you and all
heathen people do and say and think. The darkness is no darkness with
Him, and the day and night to Him are both alike," I answered. "But
come to mother, Lisele, and she will explain the matter to you more
clearly than I can do."
Lisele was the daughter of a heathen chief, who was very well disposed
towards the Christians; and although he would not lotu himself, he

allowed Lisele, who was very intelligent, and possessed an inquiring
mind, to attend the school. She was about two years older than I was,
and I think any one who had seen her dressed in her costume of native
cloth of the finest texture, with a wreath of white flowers in her raven
hair, would have thought her very pretty. She was as yet imperfectly
instructed in