uffering, we are sorry to say, is not yet over. For many years to come
the desperate and despotic hand of Rome, which could in the name of
religion invent the horrible inquisition and organize the bloodthirsty
order of Jesuits, has not changed its attitude completely and will
resist desperately to the last the inevitable progress of Protestantism
in Brazil.

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.

The days of the pioneer missionary, with their personal dangers, have
in a measure passed. The yeans of the persecutor in the face of an
increasingly more enlightened civilization are numbered. The
probability of person