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But, in truth, how far do we act on the principle named, that of performing in person the most arduous service, and of leaving the most pleasant work for others? Look over the desolate and secluded parts of the United States; look over the heathen world, and make out an answer. Let facts speak. Is a residence in Arkansas preferred to a residence in New-York, or a voyage to New Guinea before one to Europe?

Our blessed Saviour and his apostles did not feel inclined to shrink from the more self-denying service, and to shift it upon others. If they had felt so, then we should have continued in a state of darkness, and have known full well the import of present wretchedness and eternal woe.

Let us suppose, for a moment, that the apostles had made the discovery of obeying by proxy the Saviour's last command. But I hesitate to make such a supposition, lest the force of such an immense contrast should make it to be regarded as a caricature upon the operations of the present age. In other words, our efforts to convert the world become so clumsy, slow and inefficient, from a lack of the right spirit and enough of it, in ministers and in the churches, that to impute the same kind and degree of effort to the apostles and primitive Christians, might excite a smile, rather than a sigh; and be deemed an attempt to ridicule what is at present done, rather than an earnest, serious, and solemn expostulation. Such a result I should deplore. But if my readers will believe me to be aiming simply, with weeping eyes and an aching heart, to illustrate with force my own defects and their short-comings in duty, by detecting and tracing out a wrong principle of action, I will venture cautiously to make the supposition.

The words of the last command have fallen from the lips of the ascended Saviour, and the apostles assemble to deliberate how they shall carry them into execution. In the first place, Peter delivers an address. It is an able and thrilling discourse. He seems impatient to wing his way to foreign lands. After the discourse, they form themselves into a society. Arrangements being made, and the machinery being complete, they send forth John to solicit funds. He finds the disciples willing to contribute on an average, after much urging, about twenty-four cents each. A pittance of money is obtained, and then they search for a man. They thought Peter would be ready to go, from the speech he delivered, but he wishes to be excused: he has a family to support. They then fall upon various plans: some think of training up young men to go forth, and others exhort parents to infuse a missionary spirit into their children. At length, however, it is found that one of the twelve begins to feel that he has a call to go – but this would be at the rate of one thousand from the twelve thousand ministers in the United States. This one man is sent forth to "go into all the world, and to preach the Gospel to every creature." The rest of the apostles sustain the various offices of the society, and have charge of important posts in Jerusalem, and in the cities and villages round about. They meet yearly, to deliberate upon the missionary enterprise. Some feel much, and humbly pray, and some say eloquent things about the glorious cause, and tell how they have found a fulcrum, where to place the lever of Archimides to elevate the world.

Now I ask most solemnly, and in a spirit of grief and humiliation, how such a course of conduct would have appeared in the apostles? Would it have evinced a spirit of obedience? Believe me, in early times, a readiness to obey supplied a great deal of machinery. Bring back into the ministers of the present day the spirit of the apostles, and into the churches the spirit of the early disciples, and operations at once would be more simple and more efficient. A backwardness in duty – a disposition, if we do anything for the heathen, to do it by proxy, this is it that makes the wheels so ponderous and encumbered. "The letter killeth, but the Spirit giveth life." Give us the spirit, and annihilate the notion of operating so much by proxy, and we shall soon see a multitude of angels flying in the midst of heaven, having the everlasting Gospel to preach to the nations.

There is no cheap or easy way of converting the world. It is to be feared that some fall into the contrary notion, because they do not wish to believe that all they possess is needed in the work of the Lord, and that there is absolute necessity that they themselves go to the heathen. It is to be feared, that it is for this reason that so many are ready to imagine that the work is to be done by a few men, and a small amount of means. It would seem they expect to form lines of these few men, and encircle the globe in various directions; to place them on prominent points, like light-houses, and leave each with his single lamp to dispel the darkness of a wide circumference. They seem to imagine that nations can be elevated from a degradation many ages deep, and thoroughly transformed, religiously, morally, mentally and socially, by the influence of a few missionaries, scattered here and there on some high eminences of the earth: that a single missionary, under a withering atmosphere, is to be preacher, physician, teacher, lawyer, mechanic, and everything that is necessary in raising a whole community from the inconceivable degradation of heathenism, up to the elevation of an industrious, intelligent, and Christian people.

Neither are the expectations formed by many, of mission seminaries, less visionary. A school, with two or three teachers, limited accommodations and small funds, with all its school-books to make, and the whole literature to form, is expected to accomplish all the work of the academy, college, and theological seminary, and speedily to transform untutored savages into able preachers of the Gospel.

And it is expected, by not a few, of the wife of the missionary – though living under a burning sun, in a house of poor accommodations, with unfaithful domestics, or none at all; that notwithstanding, she will not only attend to the arduous duties of the household and educate her own children, but teach a school among the people, and superintend the female portion of the congregation – a task which a minister's wife in a Christian land, and under a bracing air, does not often attempt.

Now, would it be really a benefit to the church thus to flatter her indolence and her avarice, and convert the heathen with a fraction of wealth and a handful of men? Be assured, God loves the church too well thus to pamper a luxurious and self-indulgent spirit: he will allow no cheap and easy way of accomplishing the work. The object is worth more: worthy not only of the combined wealth of Christendom, but worthy also of the energies, the toil, and the blood if necessary, of the greatest and holiest men. It will not be in consistence with God's usual providence that a victory so noble should be achieved, till the treasures of the church shall be literally emptied in the contest, and the precious blood of thousands and tens of thousands of her ablest and best men poured out on the field. The work has already cost the blood of God's only Son; and the prosecution and finishing of it shall be through toil, self-denial, entire devotement, and obedience even unto death.

Some rules that may be of use in agitating the question of becoming missionaries.

1. Guard against an excuse-making spirit. This is an age of excuses. There is no need of seeking for them; they are already at hand, and of every variety, size and shape. They are kept ready for every occasion. If one will not suit, another may be tried. Be admonished then, that a disposition to be excused is not much different from a disposition to disobey.

2. Guard against antinomianism on the subject of missions. There is a great tendency in these days to say and do not. The thrill of the missionary theme, like an exhilarating gas, is pleasant to many; but the sober and humble business of engaging in the work is not so welcome. A disposition to say much and do little is a feature of the most alarming kind. It shows an obtuseness of conscience.

3. Remember that Divine direction is better than human wisdom. We are very much inclined to argue the question, "Where can I do the most good?" Be assured we can do the most good by obeying the Saviour: by carrying out the spirit of his last command. Let us keep close to that command: it is safer than to determine by our own dark and biased reasoning, and by our very limited foresight, where we can be the most useful.

4. The nearer you live to Jesus, the more hope will there be of your coming to a right decision. There is a process of conviction and conversion before a man becomes a missionary – a serious conflict. Nothing but nearness to the Saviour will prepare a man to pass through such a conflict, and keep safely on the side of truth and duty.

5. If, after examining thoroughly and prayerfully the question of becoming a missionary, the mind waver between conflicting reasons, it will be safest to lean to the side of the greatest self-denial.

6. In selecting the place of the greatest usefulness in the wide field of the world, the best rule is, to fly to the post most likely to be deserted.

7. A kindred principle is, to do in person the more difficult and unpleasant work, and to commit the more easy and delightful to proxy.

8. Remember the time is short. A few days more, and we shall meet our Saviour in the presence of a world of souls.

9. Keep in mind the conduct of our blessed Saviour, and be imbued with his spirit. Feel as he felt, and do as he did, when he beheld us in misery and in sin.

CHAPTER VIII.
TRIALS TO BE MET

Common trials need not be named: we allude only to a few of those that are most severe. Take then first, the trial of leaving friends. The Saviour says, "He that loveth father or mother more than me is not worthy of me, and he that loveth son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me." The plain meaning is, to be Christians, our love to Christ must be supreme. Now, if it is supreme, it will show itself to be so in our conduct. There is full room, even at the present day, for a practical test of this condition of discipleship. Not only is the spirit of this passage required, but in many cases, a literal compliance with the identical things named in it. This saying of our Saviour has been too much forgotten. Like some other important sayings of our Lord, it has been virtually expunged. It has been regarded as applying only to apostolic times – to times of persecution. This is a wide mistake. If all nations are to be enlightened by the use of means, there must be a practical exhibition among Christians at the present time, and in all time to come, of a love to Christ superior to the love which we owe to father, mother, son or daughter. And this love is not spoken of as a high attainment in piety, but as an indispensable condition of discipleship. The missionary enterprise presents many instances of stern necessity to test and exhibit this principle.

The occasion most familiar to the general reader, and the one best appreciated by him, is the time when missionaries go forth to the heathen. They are compelled to break away from almost every tie. The strength of attachment to all that is dear on earth, is a feeling that may be experienced, and can be imagined too, in part, but can never be described. There are a thousand ties, and tender ties too, that must be sundered. The loved scenes of childhood and youth, and scenes of sacred peace and pleasure that cluster about the sanctuary, the conference-room and the praying circle, must all receive a parting thought. Friends – dear friends and connections, must receive a last adieu and a lingering look. But O how keen the sensation when the last sigh, the last tear, and the last embrace is to be exchanged with father and mother, brother and sister – when all the touching associations of kindred and home are for once revived to be dismissed forever!

Imagine not that the sensibilities of missionaries are less exquisite than those of other persons. The pangs they endure are indeed alleviated by soothing considerations drawn from the Gospel; but they are, notwithstanding, deep – deeper than the looker-on may at first suppose.

There may be some persons – I have heard of such – who misrepresent the feelings and motives of missionaries in leaving their friends; who impute to them cold hearts and a bluntness of sensibility; who say that they are wanting in filial devotion, and can therefore leave aged parents to droop and die: that they have a small share of fraternal affection, and that it is therefore they can break away from the embrace of brothers and sisters, and leave them in anguish and in tears. All these remarks are sometimes made, and perhaps oftener secretly indulged, than openly expressed. It is often that the missionary is not allowed to take his leave merely with a bleeding heart and a soul gushing with emotion, but is compelled to endure a keener anguish: that of knowing that the course he is taking, agonizing as it is, is imputed by some to a want of sensibility; to a destitution of the finer, tenderer, and more delicate feelings, that adorn society, and that make families lovely and happy. Here then are trials: such, however, as he must cheerfully meet for Christ's sake.

But the separation from home, with its numerous and nameless endearments, and at the risk of misrepresentation, is but the first lesson of obedience. That person whose love to Christ is so weak as to fail here on the threshold, would give but poor evidence of being prepared for similar and severer trials in prospect. The main occasion for exemplifying the spirit of the Saviour's words to which we have alluded, is on heathen ground, when stern necessity calls upon parents to make the best disposition in their power in regard to their own children. This is an occasion not so well understood by the Christian community as the one I have noticed. The difficulties in the way of properly training children on heathen ground are not clearly seen; neither are all the objections appreciated which attend the usual alternative, that of sending them to a Christian land. These are the occasions of trial, compared with which all other sufferings of the missionary are scarcely worthy of being named. They are trials, however, that must be met, not evaded; for the Saviour says, "He that loveth son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me." They must be cheerfully met, and counted "all joy," or we cannot claim the spirit of the first disciples.

There are those, I know, who would relieve this subject at once by proposing the celibacy of missionaries; but the argument of such persons can hardly be deemed worth considering, till they shall know a little more "what they say, and whereof they affirm." Celibacy for ministers at home would be a much more proper and expedient arrangement, than for missionaries in most foreign fields. And one would think that the experience of the church, from the days of the apostles till now, had taught us enough to silence at once any such proposition, and to place it forever at rest. Were it in place for me, I could give reasons here to the heart's content: but I deem it more prudent to forbear.

The difficulties in the way of training children on heathen ground, cannot all be named; and fewer still can be justly appreciated by those who have never made the attempt. What I shall say will apply particularly to barbarous and degraded nations, such as the Sandwich Islanders once were; for it is to such nations that the missionary's eye should be specially directed.

I shall mention first, the difficulty of keeping children from the pollutions and vices of the heathen. Children have eyes, and among the heathen what do they see? I need only refer you to the knowledge you already possess of the naked condition, vile habits, and gross vices of a barbarous people. There is much in heathen society which cannot be described, but which children must more or less witness. The state of things, in this respect, is very much improved at the Sandwich Islands; but I refer to that condition in which they once were – to that condition in which all barbarous nations are, without the light of the Gospel. Imagine then to yourself this feature of heathen society, and then repeat the inquiry, What do children see?

Again, children have ears, and they cannot be so effectually closed as to be kept from learning in some measure the language of the heathen. And if they become acquainted with the language of the heathen, what do they hear day after day? In many a pagan country they are liable to hear disputes, contentions, revilings, execration and blasphemy; but what is more, they are liable to hear in familiar, unblushing and open conversation, words and phrases which are not so much as to be named. The heathen have no forbidden words in their language. Every term is liable to be brought into public and frequent use without the least sense of impropriety.

On account of this pernicious example and vile conversation, many missionaries, where it is practicable, make walls about their houses, and endeavor by strict inclosures to prevent their children from having intercourse with the natives. This can be done in some places, and to some degree, while children are young; but when they are somewhat grown up, it is preposterous to think of keeping them within inclosures. And as soon as they are out of their inclosures, there are a thousand pitfalls ready for their feet, on the right hand and on the left. How much solicitude was felt by Abraham and Isaac for their children, on account of the heathen population which surrounded them. This pernicious influence, better imagined than described, and still better seen than imagined, is one of the reasons which lead missionaries to undergo the agony of separation, and to send their children to a Christian land. This evil at the Sandwich Islands is much diminished, but not so much so as may at first glance be supposed from the progress in Christianity which has been made, and from the powerful revivals which have here been experienced.

Again it must be remarked, that children trained up on heathen shores are in danger of contracting habits of indolence. The heathen, as a general remark, exert themselves no oftener and no longer than they feel the pressure of present want. They are far from being industrious, and farther still from anything like enterprise. Those nations that are partly civilized exhibit more or less industry, and are acquainted with some of the arts; but barbarous nations are acquainted with none of the improvements that elevate society, and exhibit a state of lounging indolence and torpid inactivity. If there be noise, it is not the rattle and whirl of business, or the hum of industry; but the noise of giddy mirth, boisterous and unmeaning laughter, or fierce and angry contention. If there be stillness, it is not the peace and quiet of well-ordered society, but the gloomy and deathlike stillness of indolence, sensuality, and beastly degradation. Now, who does not know that children are likely to be much influenced by the aspect and character of the society by which they are surrounded? Who does not know that they are likely to imbibe the spirit of the nation in which they live, whether on the one hand it be that of industry and enterprise, or on the other, that of sensual ease and torpid indolence? Let a youth be trained up in a village of intelligence, active industry and stirring enterprise; let his ears be filled with the noise of business from morning till night; let him travel in stages, in steamboats and on railroads, and it will be next to impossible for him to be indolent and sluggish. But in heathen society, the whole atmosphere is entirely different; it is a choke-damp to all activity, and it falls on the senses with a benumbing and deadening influence.

But more than this, missionaries have no business in which to employ their children; and if it were possible to devise business in which to employ them, there is no one to superintend their labor. Missionaries have no time for the purpose, and no other persons, among most pagan nations, can be found who are trusty and competent. This is a stubborn fact, and stands in the way as a very great obstacle. Neither, in most cases, can the children of missionaries be kept industrious in the acquisition of knowledge. Their fathers and mothers cannot devote so much of their time to their children, as to keep their minds industriously employed in the pursuit of knowledge; and as to schools, most missions are not thus favored. Missionaries then, if they keep their children on heathen ground, run the risk of seeing them grow up in habits of inactivity and indolence. This, if a risk, is a fearful one; for missionaries ardently wish their children to be useful when they themselves shall be dead. But indolence and usefulness are the opposites of each other; whereas indolence and vice are closely allied. To prevent then this deadly evil, of having their children grow up in indolent habits, is one of the strong reasons why missionaries resort to the heart-rending alternative of parting with their children, with but little probability of seeing them again this side the grave.

Again, as the state of things now is, the children of missionaries, if kept on heathen ground, can possess but very limited advantages for mental improvement. Their mothers cannot be depended upon to instruct them much in literature and the sciences. Under the influence of a withering atmosphere, often sick, with no help in many countries in their domestic affairs but untrusty domestics, and often with none at all, and obliged to attend to many calls from the people, or run the risk of giving offence, how can they be expected to find much time and strength for disciplining the minds of their children, and storing them with useful knowledge? They may succeed in giving them an acquaintance with the branches of common education, but to carry them into the higher branches is, as a general remark, entirely out of the question. Such a task is by no means expected of a minister's wife at home, much less can it be expected of the wife of a missionary.

Neither can their fathers be depended upon to give a thorough education. Ministers at home would find it a great encroachment upon their time to spend several hours each day in instructing their own children; but they have vastly more leisure to do so than the foreign missionary. To instruct a class of three or four requires the same apparatus, the same preparation in the teacher, and the same number of hours each day, as would be required for a class of thirty or forty. But should a missionary devote such an amount of time and means to his own family, it must be to the neglect of other labor. The most economical, and the most efficient course by far, evidently is, to collect together a sufficient number of missionaries' children to form a school, and devote a competent number of teachers entirely to that work.

But even where such schools can be enjoyed, they must be attended with many risks and privations, and be only preparatory in their nature. Those scholars, who may need a thorough education, must be still under the necessity of visiting a Christian land. It is too of great, and perhaps indispensable importance, that youth who are trained for active life should see the industry, enterprise, and intelligence of a Christian land, and so far, at least, partake of its character and imbibe its spirit.

Missionaries, then, must either suffer their children to grow up with a very limited education, or submit to the alternative sooner or later of sending them to a Christian land. But missionaries see the want of laborers in the great field of the world, and ardently desire that their children may be qualified to take part in the work. They choose therefore the present anguish of separation, bitter as it may be, that there may exist a reasonable prospect that their children, at some future day, may be eminently useful in the vineyard of the Lord.

One other difficulty I must name, and that is, that missionaries' children, if kept on heathen ground, will have no prospect of suitable employment when old enough to settle in life. They will have no trades. To be merchants they will not have means. They will not be acquainted with agriculture, and in many countries will not be able to obtain land to cultivate. Some, who are fit for the work, may become preachers and teachers, but will not command the influence that they would if they were educated in a Christian land. Thus the prospect of suitable employment is very dark, and is a fact in the case of much weight.

These reasons and others that might be named, possess in the minds of missionaries immense force – force enough, in many instances, to induce them to tear from their embrace the dear objects of their love, and to send them over a wide ocean to the care of friends, and often to the care of strangers. They do not lead all parents to this result; for on the other hand, there are strong, very strong objections to such a course. The trial in either case is great; but it is one that must be met, not evaded. It is wise to count the cost, but it is treason to be faint-hearted; for the trial, after all, cannot weigh much in the balance against the eternal interests of the dying heathen. How much worse is the condition of millions upon millions of heathen children!

The first objection in the minds of missionaries against sending their children home, is, that such a measure seems unnatural. That it is a violation of nature, all parents not only admit, but most deeply feel. God has implanted feelings in the breast of natural parents, which peculiarly fit them to take care of their own children. No other persons can precisely take their place, and feel the same interest, the same unwearied concern – the same unprovoked temper and unchangeable love through good report and through evil report. In a word, no other persons, however good and worthy, can be natural parents. Guardians can be found, who will feel a warm interest in those children who are bright, interesting, well-behaved and pious. But to feel properly for children that are dull, uninteresting and wayward, requires a parent's heart.

That this is the state of the case, is too true to be denied. For parents, then, to violate this provision of nature, is causing a sword to pierce through their own bosoms, and the bosoms of their children: to do it without sufficient reasons, is to act at variance with the God who made them. In the feelings implanted in the breasts of parents towards their children, God has established a general rule: has made known his will, his law, and indelibly inscribed it on the parent's heart. Missionaries must be able to plead an exception to this general law, or they will be found to be opposing the will of their Maker. That the very strong reasons they can urge really justify an exception, is plain to the minds of many, but not to the minds of all.

Another objection arises from the command binding upon parents to train up their children in the nurture and admonition of the Lord. It is clear to the minds of some missionaries, that the spirit of this and similar commands is complied with when they make provision, according to the best of their judgment, for the religious education of their children. By others it is thought, that these explicit commands of God cannot be obeyed by any arrangement which commits the work to proxy; that there is risk in committing the work to others; that fully to obey God, parents, if not removed by death, must in person pray with their children and instruct them in the truths of the Gospel; and that they must do this, not only through the period of childhood, but also through the season of youth, or till their children are old enough to think and act for themselves. It is admitted by all, that it is desirable that parents should do this interesting and responsible work in person. No one else can do it with the feeling and unction natural to parents. All not only admit this to be true, but feel it, too, to the very centre of their souls. But some think that it is not only very desirable, but altogether indispensable – that any other course is an unwarrantable substitution of human wisdom for the explicit direction of the all-wise God. The reader must judge whether this position is tenable or not.

There is another objection: If missionaries' children are sent home, then one very important influence of a missionary's family upon the heathen is in a great measure lost. Among the heathen, the family constitution is in ruins. The state of society is almost a perfect chaos. It is of immense importance, therefore, not only to inculcate the principles of domestic peace, but actually to bring before their eyes living examples of well-ordered and happy families. They need to see, not only young children well governed, but also the mutual interchanges of love, affection and duty, between young people and their aged parents. But this they cannot see if children are sent home. A missionary's family, who sends his older children home, and keeps with him only those that are quite young, is not like a tree adorned with its natural and well-proportioned branches, but presents the aspect of a tree closely trimmed, and with only a few twigs left at the very top. And when all his children are sent away, his family presents the aspect of a trunk without branch, shoot, twig or foliage, standing alone in an open field. This is unnatural, blighting to much of the comfort and cheerfulness of the parental abode, and is not the example which it is desirable to hold up before the eyes of the heathen. One important reason, then, why a missionary should have a family, is lost in sending his children home.