er—you .”

    “Conditionally.”

    “ell—o t—ture ion ure labours—you do not object. You  your o too consistent to . You  one end to keep in vie be done. Simplify your complicated interests, feelings, ts,  of fulfilling —  Master. to do so, you must or: not a brot is a loose tie—but a oo, do not  a sister: a sister migaken from me. I  a  I can influence efficiently in life, and retain absolutely till death.”

    I s his influence in my marrow—his hold on my limbs.

    “Seek one elseed to you.”

    “One fitted to my purpose, you mean—fitted to my vocation. Again I tell you it is not t private individual—to mate: it is the missionary.”

    “And I  is all s—but not myself: t o tain them.”

    “You cannot—you oug. Do you tisfied ion? ill  a mutilated sacrifice? It is te: it is under andard I enlist you. I cannot accept on  must be entire.”

    “O to God,” I said. “You do not  it.”

    I  s t sometone in ence, and in t accompanied it. I ly feared St. Joill noood . , al, I could not ofore tell: but revelations ure , sitting t  at t of a man, caring as I. tism.  in ies, I felt ion and took courage. I  argue—one .

    after I tered t sentence, and I presently risked an up enance.

    on me, expressed at once stern surprise and keen inquiry. “Is sic, and sarcastic to me!” it seemed to say. “ does this signify?”

    “Do not let us forget t tter,” alk lig sin. I trust, Jane, you are in earnest o God: it is all I . Once  on your Maker, t of t Maker’s sp