and storms of the troubled sea of East London society at its very
worst, and from a myriad wrecks of manhood and womanhood, snatching
the stragglers not yet past all hope, and, in a holy enthusiasm of
love, parting with not a little of her own life in order that those
dead might live.

The outer part of the story alone can be told: the inner part only
God and the patient toiler on this field can know. Yet the inner work
is by far the greater. The thought, the cares, the fears, the
prayers, the tears, the anguish, the heart-breaking disappointments,
and the fiery ordeals of spirit by which alone the motive is kept
pure and the flame of a true zeal is fed,--in short, all the lavish
expenditure of soul that cannot be spoken, or written, or known,
until the Omniscient Recorder, who forgets nothing and repays even
the good purpose of the heart, will reveal it at the final award, is
by far the most important service as it is ever the most toilsome and
painful.

In the work of the kingdom of God on earth the true worker is in
point of importance first. Apart from the wise, holy, beneficent
soul, even the truth of the Gospel is but a dead letter. It is in the
intelligence, loveliness, magnanimity and sweetness of a human
spirit, touched finely by His own grace, that the Holy Ghost finds
His chief instrumentality. Preparation for a good work is usually
begun in early life, and the worker, whose story is to fill the
following pages, unconsciously learnt her first lessons for this
service in her father's house. There was, indeed, seemingly little to
be learned of any rare sort in the quiet village of Campsie, where
life passed as peacefully as the clouds sailing along the peaceful
heavens. Almost the only break in the even tenor of those days was an