What pencil's glowing colors know to paint Burst down her cheek; around her beauteous form From humbling infamy. Though no trumpet's sound, Maternal rapture on the lovely name Of Jesus dwelt; pondered each pleasing sign Of future splendor. What an awful change! The rude wind tempests the bright dawn of hope. A list'ning multitude; languid the lips That smiled complacence round, and every grace 25 But though with adverse wind the gray storm lowers, Shall sullen discontent awake the voice Of querulous despair? Thou second Eve, And ye, selected flock, that scattered late But risen, triumphant over sin and death, THE MISSIONARY'S FIRST TRIALS. "For his name's sake they went forth."-3 JOHNn, 7. "WHAT mean ye to weep and to break mine heart?" was the affecting remonstrance of one who was the great leader of missionary exertions, even as he was the devoted follower of Him whose mission was from the realms. of beauty and of glory to the dreary desert of this fallen world. Who could help recalling the words of that most gentle and yet most zealous apostle, on standing, as I did, in the room of the inn of Petersfield, where Henry Martyn, on his way to Portsmouth, to join the ship which was to bear him from his native land for ever, fainted away, overcome with the agony of his feelings. creature. It is good for cold and selfish hearts to hear of the trials of such men; it is good for us all. We do not half estimate as we ought to do the importance of missionary labors—the glorious heroism of those truly noble men, who have gone forth, constrained by the love of Christ, obeying with the spirit of single-minded devotedness the parting injunctions of their Lord: Go ye, and preach the Gospel to every We know little or nothing of those deep conflicts which tear the hearts of missionaries—of men keenly alive to all the tender affections of our human nature; for the men who feel most acutely, who are most alive to all the exquisite sensibilities and endearing associations of a Christian's home, are the best fitted to preach the Gospel of the surpassing love of Christ to their fellow-men- to speak, as a heathen convert beautifully expressed it, "out of their hearts into our hearts." I have it in my power to bring before my readers a few sketches of facts relating to such trials. I could easily give names and dates; but it must be evident to any one that to do so would be almost unjustifiable. I will hope that, as this volume will probably find its way into some circles where prejudice or indifference may exist on the subject of Christian missions, some kind and gentle spirits may be found who will yield to the touching statements that follow, and be led to consider the subject, perhaps with prayer— perhaps with a determination to inquire and to weigh all objections with the spirit of impartial judgment. On a B coach, last January, a cold winter's night, one who is now in India made the following remarks to his friend, wishing to while away the tediousness of a dreary journey. He said: "How often does the work of grace commence in a family with one of the weakest members of it! it was so in our family. One of my sisters was brought to a saving knowledge of her Lord and Saviour, and became herself much concerned about the souls of those connected with her. She married a missionary, and with her husband went to Sierra Leone, that grave of missionaries; and both soon found a resting-place in an African churchyard. On leaving home to embark, her route was through the town where I was then at school; and not wishing to leave England without taking leave of me, she came to the school, though it was at so early an hour that the boys had not yet left their dormitory. The bed-room door was thrown open by the servant, and my name was called out; upon which I raised myself in my bed, and my sister with her husband, approached to say farewell; and wishing to be as short a time as possible in such a place under such circumstances, she gave me her parting kiss, and said, with affectionate earnestness, 'Robert, read your Bible'—and then hurried out of the room. A word spoken in season, how good is it! These words were the last that I was ever to hear from my sister's lips; I could not forget them. I did read my Bible. I saw the way; but, like too many youths, I did not walk in it; and it happened, on one occasion, while standing by the fire in the hall, I uttered some sinful expression; when my bedfellow, whom I had imagined to be asleep when my sister addressed me, immediately exclaimed: 'I think, N, you have forgotten what your sister said to you.' The arrow was fixed in my conscience. I read again; I searched the Scriptures, and found the Saviour; and He has long been precious to my soul. I often thought of His command: 'Go ye into all the world, and preach the Gospel to every creature;' and I can say that, for seven years, my mind has been made up to go forth as a missionary to the heathen, but there have been hindrances in the way. My father would not hear of it. When I was approaching the age of thirty, I told him that I could put off my departure no longer; that if ever I was to be of any use in the heathen world, I felt that it was high time that I should go. One day he took me by the hand, and led me into his study, and earnestly entreated me, with much affection, not to think of going until he was gone, alluding to his own death, he being then an aged man. I replied, I could put it off no longer; that the time was come. My father's countenance fell. He said no more. Since his death, I have learned from my mother, that it had been his fervent prayer that, if it was the will of God, he might be taken to his rest, that the way might be made plain for me to go. He was called hence some few months ago, and I, as you know, embark in about a fortnight's time." When the Rev. Mr. V―, also of the Church Missionary Society, received his instructions before the committee at the Church Missionary House, he manifested such a lovely disposition, and expressed himself in so impressive and affecting a manner, that a gentleman |