In the Report of one of the missionary Boards, I have recently read the
following stirring words. They refer to the work of missionaries in the
far north, one of whom has lately travelled a thousand miles over the
snow in a dog-sled: "He who follows that mining crowd must be more than
the minister, who would do well for towns in the west or elsewhere in
Alaska. He must be a man who, when night overtakes him, will be thankful
if he can find a bunk and a plate in a miner's cabin; he must travel
much, and therefore cannot be cumbered with extra trappings--must dress
as the miners do, and accept their food and fare. He must be no less in
earnest in his search for souls than they in search for gold. He must be
so 'furnished' that, without recourse to books or study-table, he can
minister acceptably to men who under the guise of a miner's garb hide
the social and mental culture of life in Eastern colleges and
professional days."

It is far from that land of frost and snow to the beautiful island of
Porto Rico, washed by tropical seas, through the streets of whose
capital there passes every day the carriage of the Governor, with its
white-covered upholstery and its livery of white. But I add this word:
The missionary sent to Porto Rico, be he Catholic or Protestant, must be
a man who can stand among statesmen and society men and women, as well
as one who can live and work among the humblest folk who lodge in
leaf-thatched huts along the roadside or far on lonely hills.
Representative men of ability, health, culture, and courage are being
chosen to carry on governmental work: it is idle to send provincial men
to the Church. What is locally true of the Church in Porto Rico is
fundamentally true all over the world, at home and abroad. Each
ministerial post to-day requires an imperial man. Not every post
requires the same sort of man, either in regard to general heredity or