ith a wife is
fettered; he cannot be absent from home twenty-four consecutive hours.
She is afraid of the dark, afraid of dogs and lions, of robbers and
murderers, afraid the children will get sick, or that 'something or
other will be sure to happen, as always does if he is away.' He too is
as uneasy as herself, meditates all sorts of mishaps, imagines the house
on fire, Johnny in the well, Fanny with a bean in her throat or a corn
in her ear, and is on thorns and briers until his own house circles him
around again. This is all right and natural for the ordinary domestic
man; but, as I understand it, the missionary undertakes God's work; he
renounces the world, its joys, comforts, friendships; he is no longer
his own; but his will, love, obedience, and work is all for God, his
Master, and for the heathen who know Him not. The truth is, the man who
considers himself called to missionary labors should leave his wife
behind him; that is, he should have no wife."

The Doctor, who was now a man of sixty, had been thrice married, and was
now entertaining thoughts of a fourth wife, took his pipe from his lips
and said emphatically:

"You are an extremist, Mr. Chase, you speak thus perhaps because it has
been your lot to lead a single life; but, let me tell you, I think our
missionaries sacrifice enough, without being obliged to come wifeless
among negroes, Hindoos, South-sea islanders, and Cannibals. A dreary
life at best--unendurable without companionship. You wouldn't get a man
to sail under the conditions you propose."

"Did the Apostles have wives and children pulling after them?" continued
Mr. Chase. "Imprisoned, stoned, beaten, and scoffed, was their life less
dreary than should be the missionary's of to-day? What says St.
Paul--'thrice was I stoned, thrice was I beaten with rods, thrice I
suffered shipwreck, a night and a day have I been in the deep.' Do you
suppose it ever occurred to that mighty, God-like spirit, even in the
lowest depth of his worldly misery, that it would be a comfort to have a
wife come to weep with him, to hand him fresh gown and sandals? Never so
far fell that grand soul from its exalted repose upon the bosom of the
infinite! From that source whence he drew courage sublimer, faith
diviner, and strength irresistible, which no woman's heart or hand could
aid in evoking! Ah, that was a glorious St. Paul."

"You are eloquent, sir, as all of us might well be over such a subject,"
said the Doctor;