a moment; on the contrary,
his countenance was radiant with satisfaction. It was an important
post, and it was believed that a large accession might be made to the
kingdom of Christ by the establishment of a mission there. "Wherever my
overseer and brethren consider our holy cause can most be advantaged by
my presence, there I am ready to go," answered my brother, after the
offer had been made him.

The ground had already been broken by native teachers, who had earnestly
petitioned for an English missionary. Our passage to my brother's
station was somewhat circuitous, as we had to leave several missionaries
at their posts, to carry stores and books to old stations, and to leave
native teachers at new ones. We had brought with us the missionary who
was to succeed John, whom I was directed to carry on to his new station.

We were received on our return to my brother's home with unmistakable
signs of pleasure by the natives, who collected to welcome him. I
expected, however, that when he came to announce to his wife the
proposed change, that it would be a sad damper to her happiness; but she
simply observed: "Wherever you are called to go, dear husband, it will
be my joy to go also. How much better am I off than the wife of a
soldier serving in the army of some earthly monarch. She may not
accompany him to the war; if he falls wounded, she may not be near to
tend him; if he is slain, no reward is of value to him. Where, too, is
her assurance that they will be reunited? Where my husband goes I may
go,--if he is ill, I may watch over him,--if spirits and strength fail,
I may support him. When death separates us, I know that we shall be
reunited; and I know, too, that a glorious crown, the prize of his high
calling, will assuredly be his, and that that crown I shall share with
him, and full draughts of joy unspeakable for ever and ever."

These words were spoken in so low and gentle a voice by my dear
sister-in-law, that a stranger would scarcely have understood the firm
faith and high resolve they indicated. The packing up occupied but
little time. John's household goods were few, nor did his library fill
many boxes.

"But you will sell your cattle and poultry?" I observed.

"I do not consider them mine," he answered. "I look upon them as
belonging to the Society, and as necessary to my successor. A
missionary should have as few worldly incumbrances as possible to draw
him away from his work. He should