The highway furrows stock;
Drop it where thorns and thistles grow;
Scatter it on the rock.

"Thou canst not toil in vain;
Cold, heat, and moist and dry,
Shall foster and mature the grain
For garners in the sky."




Fruits of Toil
IN THE
LONDON MISSIONARY SOCIETY.


When our fathers established this Society they were met by a
formidable array of difficulties of which we know nothing. Gathered
in fellowship when the infidel principles of the French Revolution
were doing deadly work, and soon involved in the national struggle
of the great war, they found little to encourage them in the outward
aspects of their position. Christian men were few; Christian
churches were small and scattered; money was scarce; Christian
benevolence was little understood. The wide world of Christian
effort opened to us was almost wholly closed against them. They could
enter the South Seas; though their islands were almost unknown. But
the West Indies were close shut. "If you preach to the slaves," said
the Governor of Demerara to a missionary, "I cannot let you stay
here." They were excluded from South Africa and from India. China