distinction, she instinctively avoids. My future duties seem to be assigned me by a kind Providence. The care of such a household as the seminary will involve will demand all my time, and I shall have as little occasion as fitness for other labors. But I shall enjoy all the good that you will do; and, if I can do anything to lighten your labors or cheer your heart, it will constitute both my happiness and duty."

"I have loved my home with such a love, that it has seemed to me I could never endure the idea of being separated from it to return no more. But it is not in any outward circumstances of life to make us really happy. I like that chapter of Butler on moral discipline. It shows us the design and the need of trials and temptations.

"The destination before us is one that should raise and ennoble every thought and feeling. It often comes over me in the midst of trifling conversation, to administer reproof, and make me resolve that I will never be trifling and inconsiderate again. I think I have sought and received guidance from One who guides unerringly. My mind rests with perfect peace in the decision I have made. I can now look at the future without fear or disquietude, - remembering that it is in no combination of circumstances to give happiness, without that keeping of the heart which requires great diligence. I anticipate a higher happiness from missionary life than I could expect from a quiet settlement in my native land. It is the severer discipline which yields us most.

"I feel that nothing, nothing but faith, can ever sustain and make me permanently cheerful and happy. There are moments when I am anxious for the future; but I can oftener cast all my cares upon One who careth for us, believing that He will give all needful preparation and strength for whatever is before me. No one who lives for the cause of Christ, and is faithful in it, can be unhappy."

Henrietta had now attained her true position. Strong in the might of her consecration to the noblest of causes,

she could cheerfully look forward to the trials which, with distinctest vision, she saw in her onward path.

This very consecration had brought her into closer and more endearing relations to her heavenly Father, and by it she was now entering the higher sphere of faith. If a Christian rests outside its hallowed circle, or is content in its lower walks, it is not strange that darkness should gather over his path, especially if he be a thoughtful man.

Through the one great mystery of being, with the gigantic shadow of death deepening it into a problem painfully startling to the brooding mind, and through all those lesser mysteries flowing therefrom, the soul must look up confidingly and perpetually into the face of a reconciled Father, or it will be launched upon a sea of miserable doubts, and perplexed and rent with its own harrowing conflicts. Then is God's omnipotence a fearful attribute, and God himself, to a heart so little believing, a consuming fire, drinking up the spirit. But let the soul behold God in Christ Jesus,-the glories of the divinity softly attempered by the sweetness of a perfect humanity,- let it, with the golden key of faith, unlock the mysteries of godliness, and from the seemingly confused and discordant elements is evolved a system of divinest harmony. Let the tired spirit lay itself in the arms of the infinite and unchanging Father, - let the created, through the Mediator, thus come into union with the great Creator,-and its endless eddies of restlessness will subside into the tranquil waters of perfect peace. The soul has found its Centre, and it is henceforth at rest. Nothing can separate it from the love of Christ. All things shall work together for its good.

To such a trusting spirit there is a providence in the minutest event. It may suffer wrong from the hand of

man, but its serenity cannot long be disturbed. Its refuge in God is unfailing, and its peace is like a river. Towards such a state, as we see from the foregoing extracts, was Henrietta now tending.

"Though faith and hope may oft be tried,
I ask not, need not, aught beside;

How safe, how calm, how satisfied,

The soul that clings to thee!"

THE MISSIONARY BRIDE.

"Lips that have lulled me with your strain,

Eyes that have watched my sleep!
Will earth give love like yours again?"

MRS. HEMANS.

We now approach that period which was to try the heart and test the faith of our friend.

A refined and delicate woman, of the most shrinking sensitiveness and the most unbounded affections, is about to tear herself from the bosom of her family. She is to leave forever the cherished home of her childhood; she is to bid farewell to her trees and her flowers, and to gaze for the last time on those lofty mountains, hallowed by the sympathy which, in her changeful moods, she has received from them. She is for the last time to look into the loving eyes of that mother, who, all her life long, has watched over her with unwearied care; for the last time to be pressed to the heart of that father whom she regards with the most exalted reverence and affection; she is to pass through all this, that she may cross the wide sea, to endure privations and hardships, and, it may be, a thrice desolate widowhood, in a foreign land and among a strange people. It is no wonder that her friends looked forward to this scene with the most anxious solicitude, or that her destined companion should say, "How will Henrietta endure the separations before her? I have sometimes wished her capabilities of

intense emotion were less." But she knew where to obtain strength for the hour of her trial.

On the morning of September 3d,- the day appointed for the marriage ceremony,- as the family assemble for their usual devotions, a chastened solem- . nity pervades every countenance. The prayer of the aged father reveals the hidden depths of his struggling heart. The consecration of his youngest child to the missionary service; his earnest invocation to Heaven for needed strength in behalf of her and her companion in all times of trial and danger; that prayer, closing with the expression of the sweetest and most consolatory Christhin hope of a reünion in heaven, will live forever in the hearts of those who heard it. In the In the preparatory duties of the morning, all were composed and almost cheerful, endeavoring to strengthen one another for the coming hour, all but the young girl in the family, whose faithful and affectionate services were recalled years after, when from a distant land were sent to her dying tokens of a continued kind remembrance. Poor Jane alone gave herself up to uncontrollable weeping. At length a few invited friends from the parish were assembled. Before Henrietta entered the room, a bridal ring was placed upon her finger, upon which was engraved the reference,-" Luke 18:29. 30." "Verily

I

say unto you, there is no one who hath left house, or parents, or brethren, or wife, or children, for the kingdom of God, who shall not receive manifold more in this present time, and in the world to come life everlasting."

Her venerated father officiated at the altar, performing the marriage service with that dignity, yet tenderness, for which he was distinguished. Many a tear was shed by others, but the bride maintained a serene