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.
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