e young people, the boys and girls of
our Churches, somewhat realize the lack of material wherewith to
stimulate and nourish these young workers. The apiarist studies the
nature of the insect which must yield him its sweets, and discovers
that "the nature of the cell and the food affects the difference" in
the bees. We have long watched our boys and girls, and either we do
not care what they yield, or we are dull not to notice that what
surrounds them and enters into their minds, is surely deciding their
natures. White clover honey can only be made from white clover
blossoms. What they read and what they may be induced to read
concerns us as mission workers. Individual tastes make many by-paths
in the field of literature, but the girls all enjoy the windings of
romance, and the boys delight in the highway of adventure. "But,"
they say or think, "Missions, their history and progress are so
stupid, they have no decent heroes and heroines. We like Robinson
Crusoe, and Little Women, and the Arabian Nights!" But do we not know
that the stories of the lives of some of our missionaries, well told,
may stand side by side, upon the book-shelves and in the hearts of
our young people, with the pages of De Foe and Louise Alcott? Many a
boy and girl, charmed by the life and fortune of some unreal, and
oftentimes unworthy, hero, has attempted to make copy in his or her
own life. Missionary lives are not lacking in the spirit, adventure
and romance which are so fascinating. With these ideals in their
minds, may we not expect followers of the Judsons, the Moffats, the
Fiskes and the Rankins?

The writer, who has humbly undertaken to re-tell an old tale, is
neither a De Foe nor an Alcott. She finds she can borrow neither of
their pens. Her own, conscious of its inexperience, finds its only
relief in the fact that the story is its own strength.

SAMUEL J. MILLS.

CHAPTER I.

ANCESTRY--BIRTH--BOYHOOD--CONVERSION.

Our country is quietly enjoying the benefits of a great activity.
Foreign Missions are still feeling a noble impulse, and the origin of
this force was, under God, in the heart and brain of Samuel J. Mills.

It is a name known to us, but a history almost forgotten. Only upon
the shelves of some antiquarian, or in the undisturbed library of
some old homestead can a volume be found bearing the title "Mills'
Memoirs." Take it down, blow the dust from the leaves yellow with
sixty-seven years, and you will find t