though the wounds were still tender. Her trunks
were mostly packed, and many tokens of love placed there by beloved
friends.

When with her brother's family the young missionary always wore a
cheerful smile; but there were hours when she wept at the thought of
parting from those who were so dear. Yet not for one instant did she
regret the choice of her life. She was going to tell the poor benighted
heathen of the love of Jesus,--to try and persuade them to throw away
their idols, and worship the living and true God.

As she thought of all this, and realized what a privilege it was to save
souls from eternal death, her whole heart glowed with a desire to be
among those for whom she was to labor.

Mr. and Mrs. Matthews had been travelling for some weeks, but had now
returned to be in season for the wedding.

On the Sabbath night previous, the family were seated in the library,
when mamma noticed that Josey was not present. She could not account for
this, because, when out of school, he was scarcely a moment away from
his aunt's side. She went through several rooms in search of him, and
at last found him in a closet by himself, sobbing as if his heart would
break.

"Why must Aunt Fanny go?" he sobbed, "I can't bear it,--I can't bear not
to see her any longer!"

"My darling," said mamma, taking his hand, and leading him to her own
chamber, "do you know what Aunt Fanny is going for?"

"Yes, mamma, but couldn't somebody else do it?" She stopped a moment
and then said,--

"Josey, there was a time, thousands of years ago, when man had sinned,
and there was no hope nor joy for him in the world; there was only the
certainty that his soul must be miserable forever. Then our blessed
Saviour said, 'I pity these poor people and shall try to save them.' He
left his glorious throne, by the side of his Father, and came here to
give himself to death.

"The love and pity of God the Father was so great, that he sent his
beloved Son, that whosoever believeth on him shall have everlasting
life.

"The poor Hindoos know nothing of the true God. They have not the
precious Bible, as we have, to tell them that they need not throw their
babies to the crocodiles,--they need not tear and wound their own flesh,
nor throw themselves under the wheels of the cruel Juggernaut. Your aunt
Fanny and uncle James are going to tell them, they need do nothing of
all this. They desire to say to those poor, ignorant men and women and
children, that