IF you look on your map of the United States, you will see in the south-east, a little corner called Georgia. It was to this place that a number of poor people from England had emigrated; people who had been cruelly treated in prison, and on being released had no work to do and nowhere to go. Some kind Christian gentlemen collected money to help them to get to Georgia, where they could have plenty of work and plenty of food. A number of poor Germans, too, who had been persecuted in their own country because of their religion, also went out to this place where they could worship God as they chose, without fear of cruel treatment. When people are driven out of their own country like this, they are called "exiles," and though this little band of exiles found work and food, and freedom to worship God in the new land, they had no minister. So the gentlemen who had raised the money, and who knew what brave, good men Mr. John and Mr. Charles Wesley were, asked them if they would go out and minister to these poor people in Georgia. "You are just the men to comfort and teach them," they said. Then, too, a number of Indians lived in Georgia, and they wanted to be friends with the white strangers, and General Oglethorpe and Dr. Burton, the gentlemen I mentioned, thought it would be a good opportunity to preach the gospel to them. When Mr. John Wesley was first asked, he said: "No, I cannot go, I cannot leave my mother." Then they said: "Will you go if your mother gives her consent?" "Yes," said John, feeling quite sure she would never give it. So he went to Epworth and told his mother all about the matter. Then he waited for her reply. Mrs. Wesley loved her "boy" John very, very dearly, and if he went to America she might never see him again, and yet her answer came: "If I had twenty sons, I would give them all up for such a work." Even after obtaining this unexpected consent, John did not decide to go until he had asked the advice of his brother Samuel and his friend Mr. Law, both of whom advised him to undertake the work. Then both he and his brother sent in their decision to General Oglethorpe, and began making preparations for their long journey across the Atlantic Ocean. Now I want us to imagine ourselves at Gravesend, a place on the river Thames near London. Look at all those ships in the docks! See, there is one that looks just ready to sail! Can you read the name of it? "S-i-m-m-o-n-d-s"--"Simmonds." Yes, that is its name. Let us button up our coats, as it is a sharp October day, and watch the passengers go on board.