common
sailors. And what thousands rushed to California, from different parts
of America, on the discovery of the gold! How many husbands left their
wives and families! How many Christian men tore themselves away from all
home endearments to suffer, and toil, and perish by cold and starvation
on the overland route! How many sank from fever and exhaustion on the
banks of Sacramento! Yet no word of sacrifices there. And why should we
so regard all we give and do for the Well-beloved of our souls? Our talk
of sacrifices is ungenerous and heathenish....

It is something to be a missionary. He is sometimes inclined, in seasons
of despondency and trouble, to feel as if forgotten. But for whom do
more prayers ascend?--prayers from the secret place, and from those only
who are known to God. Mr. Moffat met those in England who had made his
mission the subject of special prayer for more than twenty years, though
they had no personal knowledge of the missionary. Through the long
fifteen years of no success, of toil and sorrow, these secret ones were
holding up his hands. And who can tell how often his soul may have been
refreshed through their intercessions?...

It is something to be a missionary. The heart is expanded and filled
with generous sympathies; sectarian bigotry is eroded, and the spirit of
reclusion which makes it doubtful if some denominations have yet made up
their minds to meet those who differ with them in heaven loses much of
its fire....

There are many puzzles and entanglements, temptations, trials, and
perplexities, which tend to inure the missionary's virtue. The
difficulties encountered prevent his faith from growing languid. He must
walk by faith, and though the horizon be all dark and lowering, he must
lean on Him whom, having not seen, he loves. The future--a glorious
future--is that for which he labors. It lies before him as we have seen
the lofty coast of Brazil. No chink in the tree-covered rocks appears to
the seaman; but he glides right on. He works toward the coast, and when
he enters the gateway by the sugar-loaf hill, there opens to the view
in the Bay of Rio a scene of luxuriance and beauty unequaled in the
world beside.

The missionary's head will lie low, and others will have entered into
his labors, before his ideal is realized. The Future for which he works
is one which, though sure, has never yet been seen. The earth shall be
filled with the knowledge of the glory of the Lord. The mission