Let me hasten, however, to say that it is very easy to get the wrong impression of what the heroism of the missionary consists. It is easy for us to think it consists in his willingness to face personal danger. If such an idea should obtain amongst us permanently and alas, it has persisted altogether too long; it will rob the story of missions of its true interest and hazard appreciation of the enterprise upon the ability of the historian to find thrilling tales of adventure to gratify the appetite of the sensation-loving public. The most trying thing to the missionary is not the imminence of personal danger, but the ever-present chilling, benumbing indifference of the people to the gospel. Even though here and there we find large numbers of people who are ready to accept the gospel, let us not deceive ourselves into the belief that all Brazil is eagerly seeking to enter the Kingdom of God. The Macedonian call to Paul did not come from a whole nation which was ready to accept his teaching, but from one man in a nation. Most all Macedonian calls are like that. The few, comparatively speaking, rise to utter such calls and these few are the keys of opportunity which may be used to unlock whole Empires. The great body of the people in Brazil (and this is especially true of the educated classes) are as indifferent to the gospel as people are most anywhere else. It is the weight of this stolid indifference which tries the endurance of the missionary. It fills the very atmosphere he breathes and hangs a dark cloud over his horizon, which only his faith in God and the winning of occasional converts graciously tinge with a silver lining. It is indifference, slowly yielding indifference that tests the temper of the missionary character. There are times when a bit of physical persecution would afford a positive relief to the fatigue of his exacting career.