moral qualifications; how much does he need that simplicity and godly sincerity, that spirituality of affection, that entire devotedness to the service of God, which none, but he who commissioned the first Christian missionaries, and made the promise contained in the text, can impart. How could he hope to possess an ardor of piety, a strength of faith, a spirit of selfdenial, a crucifixion to the world, indispensable to the labors and trials and exigencies of his future course, did he not hear the Lord of missions say, "My grace is sufficient for thee;-my strength shall be made perfect in thy weakness; and as thy day is so shall thy strength be."

Whatever be the talents or attainments of the Christian missionary, he will feel that his intellectual and moral qualifications are below the dignity and magnitude and sacredness of his work, not only when he devotes himself to it, but when he enters upon it, and prosecutes it with all the ardor of his soul. But his encouragement is, that the Saviour will be always present with him to invigorate his mind, to succeed him in his studies, to defend him from "the pestilence that walketh in darkness, and from the destruction that wasteth at noon day," as long as his work is unfinished, to strengthen his faith and animate his zeal and increase his graces, and to furnish him continually with higher endowments for his sacred office.

The promise in the text will be seen to be of great importance to the Christian missionary, II. As it respects his CIRCUMSTANCES.

And here I can consider only his trials, his temptations, and his discouragements.

His trials commence as soon as he seriously turns his attention to the subject of missions. As he contemplates the obligations of the Christian world to cause the gospel to be preached to all nations, he perceives that some must become missionaries, or this can not be done. He perceives, that if it be the duty of the churches to send the gospel into all the world, it must be the duty of some to go forth, and proclaim it. The question arises, "Is it not my duty to go far hence, and bear the unsearchable riches of Christ to the heathen?" This is a question of great importance, both to himself and to the cause of missions; and as it comes home to his own bosom, and presses upon his conscience, its importance rises in his view, until he is ready to sink under the pressure. To decide this question satisfactorily in the fear of God, he must examine his own qualifications; he must consider for what sphere of labor he is best fitted, where he is most needed, and can probably accomplish the most for his Lord and Master. He must watch the indications of providence, and inquire diligently at a throne of grace, "Lord, what wilt thou have me to do?" And after he has done all this, in coming to the final decision he may have perplexing doubts, great inward conflicts, and severe trials. And these trials are unknown to the world, and little considered even by Christians.

Having taken up the resolution to devote himself to the service of God among the heathen, he may find it painfully difficult to satisfy his friends, or be con

strained to act in opposition to the feelings of those, whom he esteems and loves. Going forth to his work, he must tear himself from his choicest earthly connexions, from all the endearments of the domestic circle, and "sacred home;" he must sunder the thousand tender ties, which bind him to the place of his nativity, the scenes and companions of his youth; he must abandon the seats of science, the circles for prayer, the institutions of Christian benevolence, and the church, the beloved church, in the bosom of which he has vowed unto the Lord, and in all the tenderness of Christian sympathy has commemorated his dying love.

And while this final parting seems so much like the separation of death, the missionary does not, like the dying saint, tear himself away to enter immediately into the joy of his Lord, where all his trials are ended, where all is fruition, all is bliss! No;-he passes through these painful scenes, that he may enter upon others, if possible, still more painful. Leaving the land of his fathers, with all its ten thousand blessings, he plants himself amidst idolaters, ignorant, degraded, barbarous. Here he must take up his abode amidst crime, and misery, and wretchedness, beyond the power of language to describe.

Thus situated, he must not only sustain the privation of almost every thing he held dear in his native land, and in the bosom of earthly friends;-but he may at some seasons be destitute of the conveniencies, and even of the comforts of life, and suffer from hunger and want, and have not where to lay his head.— His life may be endangered from the ferocity of wild beasts, or from more ferocious man. He may suffer

from an insalubrious climate. He may be severely tried with the ignorance, the obstinacy, the cruelty, the abominations of the heathen around him, and be "grieved at the transgressors, and his righteous soul may be vexed from day to day with their ungodly deeds." He may be tried with the darkness of the prospect before him, and with the apparent inefficiency of his labors.

He may be tried, and severely tried, with the languor and covetousness of the churches at home; and while he has forsaken all, and, without any prospect or desire of earthly remuneration, is wearing out his life as their messenger to the heathen, he may cast his / eye back upon the churches he has left, and see them hoarding up their treasures, living in luxury and splendor, sharing all the supposed innocent enjoyments of earth, and neglecting to furnish him with the means of spreading out his labors most extensively and usefully, or delaying to send out to his relief more laborers. And O how trying must it be to the missionary, sent forth by the churches, with their sacred pledge, that they will furnish him all necessary and possible assistance by their charities and prayers, to feel himself, amidst all his toils and privations and sorrows in a land of pagan darkness, in any measure forgotten or neglected by the churches, which sent him forth? If he is ever constrained to feel this, surely he has no other hope from earth, and can find support only in the promised presence and grace of the Lord Jesus Christ.-But of these churches we are persuaded better things, though we thus speak. This cruel, this almost insupportable trial they will not impose on these.

nor any of the beloved missionaries, they have sent forth to the heathen. While they forsake all that is flattering in this world, that they may minister in spiritual things to the wretched and the perishing, the churches at home will think it a small matter to minister to them in temporal things.

The Christian missionary may be severely tried by the loss of friends. All indeed are exposed to this trial. But those in a Christian land, if called to sustain bereavements, are still in the midst of surviving friends; and those who remain, may do much to repair the loss of those, who are removed. The Christian missionary on the contrary, if deprived of his bosom companion, has no parents, no brethren and sisters, and often no sympathising friend to assuage his griefs, and into whose bosom he can pour his sorrows. He is among strangers and heathen, who have no consolation to communicate to his bleeding heart. Like the much lamented Fisk, when Parsons sunk into the arms of death, he may be left solitary and alone; and in the midst of the greatest multitude of human beings, he may feel himself in the deepest solitúde and loneliness. Without proceeding to mention the many more multiplied trials of the Christian missionary,-how could all these be sustained without the promised presence and support and consolation of the Great Head of the Church? Would it not be presumption and temerity for a missionary to go forth, expecting to endure to the end, under all these complicated and heavy trials, without confiding in the promise of Jesus Christ, "Lo, I am with you alway, even to the end