ily
associations, to share my lot on the New Hebrides. Her brother had been
an honored Missionary in the Foreign field, and had fallen asleep while
the dew of youth was yet upon him; her sister was the wife of a devoted
Minister of our Church in Adelaide, both she and her husband being
zealous promoters of our work; and her father had left behind him a
fragrant memory through his many Christian works at Edinburgh, Kenneth,
and Alloa, besides being not unknown to fame as the author of those
still popular books, _Whitecross's Anecdotes_, illustrative of the
Shorter Catechism and of the Holy Scriptures. Ere I left Scotland in
1864, I was married to Margaret Whitecross, and God spares us to each
other still (1892); and the family which He has been pleased in His love
to grant unto us we have dedicated to His service, with the prayer and
hope that He may use every one of them in spreading the Gospel
throughout the Heathen World.

Our marriage was celebrated at her sister's house in Edinburgh; and I
may be pardoned for recalling a little event which characterized the
occasion. My youngest brother, then tutor to a gentleman studying at the
University, stepped forth at the close of the ceremony and recited an
Epithalamium composed for the day. For many a month and year the
refrain, a play upon the Bride's name, kept singing itself through my
memory:--

"Long may the _Whitecross_ banner wave,
By the battle blasts unriven;
Long may our Brother and Sister brave
Rejoice in the light of Heaven."

He describes the Bride as hearing a "Voice from the far Pacific Seas";
and turning to us both, he sang of an Angel "beckoning us to the
Tanna-land," to gather a harvest of souls:--

"The warfare is brief, the crown is bright,
The pledge is the souls of men;
Go, may the Lord defend the Right,
And restore you safe again!"

But the verse which my dear wife thought most beautiful for a bridal
day, and which her memory cherishes still, was this:--

"May the ruddy Joys, and the Graces fair,
Wait fondly around you now;
Sweet angel Hopes and young Loves repair
To your home and bless your vow!"

My last scene in Scotland was kneeling at the family altar in the old
Sanctuary Cottage at Torthorwald, while my venerable father, with his
high-priestly locks of snow-white hair streaming over his shoulders,
commenced us once again to "the care and keeping of the Lord God of the
families of Israel." It was the last time that ever on this Earth