The true missionary keeps at it. It is his central thought day after day as he teaches these dirty, careless ones about him to become cleanly and do their work properly, how he can lead them on to desire a clean life and seek for it. His last thought and prayer at night, as he lays his head on the pillow, is for guidance as to how to win these precious souls, and sometimes he is led, like his Master, to spend much of the night in prayer. Some people, looking on from a distance, think there is a great deal of romance connected with mission work; that it is full of striking incidents and delightful adventures, and that it is a grand opportunity to see something of the world. On my first furlough home, ten years ago, a little niece gave a glowing account of a friend of her mother, and of the countries that friend had visited. In conclusion the child naively added, "She has traveled almost as much as a missionary." This child unwittingly voiced the opinion of many a grownup; for to some would-be missionaries the prospect of foreign travel occupies a large space in their field of vision, but to the genuine missionary foreign travel is but incidental to mission life; it is the bridge over which he passes to some obscure corner of the earth where he is hid away from the world's gaze and surrounded by an entirely different class of people, of strange language and uncouth ways, often repulsive to the natural eye and to refined tastes. For months he may never see a white face, save those of his colleagues. He does not go with the expectation of finding a house already made to order and everything else he needs, but he is ready to go into the wilds, if needs be, and make a home for himself. He does not go just because he is willing to do certain things in the mission field; but he is willing and ready to do whatever he finds to do, and to go wherever the Lord tells him to go, and to stay as long as the Lord bids him stay. There is, however, a fascination about mission work, as every one who is in the field will testify. Furloughs are taken because it is an absolute necessity for the missionary to go away for a time from the unhealthy climate and from the absorbing labors which sap the very vitality. But, when he is in his native land, the missionary feels that he is out of his element. He is out of touch with the business and interests which seem to engross the heart and soul of every one about him; and he is homesick to be back again to his field of labor and to see those dear dark faces. He feels that there is only one thing worth living for, and that is to lift up Christ among the heathen so that He may draw all men unto Himself. He feels that the time is short and that the "King's business requires haste," and that our Lord's return is imminent.