"O, no!" said the humbled child; "not more willing than I, if I could only find him. O, if I knew what to do!"

“What does he want of you, my child, but that you should give him your heart, and let him save you?”

“But I must do something myself."

"And what have you been trying to do?-to make yourself better?"

"Yes, I have tried and tried, and I only grow worse."

"This is not what he wants of you, child. You have been trying to do his part of the work. You feel that you are a great sinner, dear Carrie ?"

"O, yes!"

"This grieves you, and you desire to be forgiven, and be made holy?"

"And you believe Jesus is able and willing to do this for you? Now, what have you to do, but to trust him for it? This is all you can do—it is enough. Trust him with your heart, just as it is, to make it what he would have it."

Carrie was silent.

"Since he has shown his love in dying for you,—since he offers to forgive you freely,—cannot you commit your heart to him, and confide in him to do all that is needful for its salvation ?"

"And

The young girl looked up with a beam of hope. may I trust him now? Will he love me as I am?" "Certainly, my darling; every moment's delay grieves him. But you must venture upon his promise and his grace with your whole heart. There must be no mistrust, no doubt, no reserve. He is able to save to the utmost; he makes you the offer; he waits for you to accept it."

"O, how kind! I don't deserve this; but I will accept it.

I will trust him. How can I help it, it seems so easy now? Why did I not see this before?"

Again the two wept together; but they were tears of delicious joy, intermingled with smiles. And then, kneeling together, with Carrie's hand in hers, Mary offered a simple, earnest prayer of consecration to Christ; magnifying the riches of his grace, and beseeching strength to lead a holy life. The scene

was one a painter might have coveted. It had a holier use, joyed over by angels.

"Now," said Mary, "let us go to the study and see Mr. Vernon." But when they actually stood before him, she burst into tears, and could not speak, Carrie had to tell her own story, which she did with a self-possession that surprised him, while her face was radiant with the peace and hope of a believing spirit.

This incident was an eventful one to Mary. It lessened her timidity, and broke in upon her plea that she should do more harm than good, by attempting to direct inquiring souls, It stirred deeper in her heart the fountains of Christian feeling, and sent her to the praying circle with a soul raised above the fear of fellow-worms. It gave a new unction to her appeals in her Sabbath-school class; and, before the season closed, she had the joy of seeing many of them converted to God; a joy deepened by the fact that more than one traced their special seriousness to her faithful application of Bible truth. O, what satisfaction is superior to that of winning souls to the ways of heavenly wisdom! "They that turn many to righteousness, shall shine as the stars for ever and ever,"

CHAPTER XVI.

"A chosen vessel to bear my name among the Gentiles."

"My reward is with me to give to every man as his work shall be."

APRIL, with its suns and showers, apt emblem of life's changing day, brought to the Allison family the long-anticipated departure of the son and brother to his missionary work. Fain would the father, who was thus sparing from underneath him his chief earthly prop-fain would the sister, whose heart had grown from infancy to him the only son of her lost mothergladly would all the household band have indulged their parting tears, and sighed their last adieus, unobserved, around the old hearth-stone. But the event about to separate them was in some sense a public one. William was to go forth as a servant of the Church, and the Church had for him her commission, and her parting counsels and prayers.

There was, moreover, another deeply-interested family circle, who were to welcome him into their group, only to extend the parting hand as he should bear away their best-beloved to an almost returnless distance.

"Surely," said the doctor, "it is not an occasion that leaves us to the luxury of secret grief!"

So he kept down his swelling heart, and went with Edward and Mary to the Eastern City, where many gathered to witness the young missionary's marriage and ordination, and leavetaking.

There was a murmur of disappointment in the gathered audience, when, as the hour of service arrived, and the parties entered the church, it was whispered that the marriage ceremony had just been performed at the house of the bride. Her

mother claimed this as her due, saying, very justly, "Though Emily has given herself to the cause of missions, and belongs in some sense to the Christian public, she is still our child, and we must have the marriage-altar erected at our own fireside."

There was, however, little need of this preliminary service to add interest to the occasion. The "consecration," the "charge," the "fellowship," the parting counsels and benedictions, came from lips that seemed touched with a coal from the heavenly altar.

Some of the spectators watched with curious eye the changing expression of the youthful pair, while thus set apart to a sacred work. Others looked at them, and marvelled at the strength of that compassion for benighted souls, which could lead to the voluntary severance of the ties that bind to home and friends and native land. Others, still-and among them more than one careworn country pastor's wife-shed tears of sympathy, and in their humility took a low place before these devoted servants of Christ, who were forsaking all things for his kingdom's sake. To these the young missionary might have responded, "Weep not for me, but weep for yourselves and your children." He had only given himself to the service of his Lord. What had he done more than they? They were toiling obscurely on, wearing out by trials locked up in their own bosoms; he was starting for the field, mid the sound of the trumpet and the loud acclaim of many a banded host of God's elect. A far-off field, truly; yet for that reason more conspicuous, where his prowess would be noted from the watch-towers of Zion, and heralded to a multitude of sympa thizing hearts. But what need of this comparison? The record of all God's servants is on high, and their reward is sure. We stop not over the embarkation scene. After the farewell hymn was sung, and the last adieus spoken, and the silent

embrace taken, and the vision strained to catch the last faint outline of receding forms and waving handkerchiefs, Dr. Allison folded his daughter to his heart, and Mary returned to her happy home with a feeling almost of self-reproach, at the thought of her privileged allotment. In blessed ignorance of the future, she wrote to her father:

"My heart covets for dear William a home like mine, in our own beautiful New England, mid the circle of our kindred ; in a quiet village parsonage, with a church to be his co-workers in the gospel, and a christianized congregation looking up to him with esteem and affection; surrounded by all the nameless desirable influences that attend the ministration of the word in our well-ordered communities. True, we have some trials even here, but they seem to me light compared with his on missionary ground. It seems almost selfish in me to be so happy, when I think of his lot."

Ah, tender-hearted sister! thou foreseest not the time when his heart shall yearn toward thee, across the blue waters, with unspeakable pity, and a juster commiseration.

CHAPTER XVII.

""T'is over soon the cause, not soon

The sad effects pass by."

"No matter where the storm has driven,
A saving anchor lives in prayer."

THE summer months found Mr. Vernon again in a state of physical prostration and mental depression. The early summer brought him a visit from his old chum, Frederick Morton, who was glad to take up his abode for two or three weeks at the parsonage, and pursue his acquaintance with our young friend, Bessie Crampton.

Morton's visit was not productive of good to his classmate.