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.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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