"If they are really qualified for the task, will not their own

hearts be the first to inform them of it?"

I felt as if an awful charm was framing round and gathering over me:

I trembled to hear some fatal word spoken which would at once

declare and rivet the spell.

"And what does YOUR heart say?" demanded St. John.

"My heart is mute,--my heart is mute," I answered, struck and

thrilled.

"Then I must speak for it," continued the deep, relentless voice.

"Jane, come with me to India: come as my helpmeet and fellow-

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labourer."

The glen and sky spun round: the hills heaved! It was as if I had

heard a summons from Heaven--as if a visionary messenger, like him

of Macedonia, had enounced, "Come over and help us!" But I was no

apostle,--I could not behold the herald,--I could not receive his

call.

"Oh, St. John!" I cried, "have some mercy!"

I appealed to one who, in the discharge of what he believed his

duty, knew neither mercy nor remorse. He continued "God and nature intended you for a missionary's wife. It is not

personal, but mental endowments they have given you: you are formed

for labour, not for love. A missionary's wife you must--shall be.

You shall be mine: I claim you--not for my pleasure, but for my

Sovereign's service."

"I am not fit for it: I have no vocation," I said.

He had calculated on these first objections: he was not irritated

by them. Indeed, as he leaned back against the crag behind him,

folded his arms on his chest, and fixed his countenance, I saw he

was prepared for a long and trying opposition, and had taken in a

stock of patience to last him to its close--resolved, however, that

that close should be conquest for him.

"Humility, Jane," said he, "is the groundwork of Christian virtues:

you say right that you are not fit for the work. Who is fit for it?

Or who, that ever was truly called, believed himself worthy of the

summons? I, for instance, am but dust and ashes. With St. Paul, I

acknowledge myself the chiefest of sinners; but I do not suffer this

sense of my personal vileness to daunt me. I know my Leader: that

He is just as well as mighty; and while He has chosen a feeble

instrument to perform a great task, He will, from the boundless

stores of His providence, supply the inadequacy of the means to the

end. Think like me, Jane--trust like me. It is the Rock of Ages I

ask you to lean on: do not doubt but it will bear the weight of

your human weakness."




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