ly him with money. Purchasers continued coming during that day and
the next, and our friends lacked nothing; but on the third day they
could not sell a single book. Then, however, when the cash from their
sales was just exhausted, the messenger returned with supplies.

It was early in July, after about four months' residence in Swatow, that
I left for Shanghai, intending to return in the course of a few weeks,
bringing with me my medical apparatus, for further work in association
with the Rev. William Burns. A new and promising field seemed to be
opening before us, and it was with much hopeful anticipation that we
looked forward to the future of the work. Marked blessing was indeed in
store for the city and neighbourhood of Swatow; but it was not the
purpose of GOD that either of us should remain to reap the harvest. Mr.
Burns while in the interior was taken up and imprisoned by the Chinese
authorities soon after I left, and was sent to Canton. And though he
returned to Swatow after the war had broken out, he was called away for
other service, which prevented his subsequent return; while my journey
to Shanghai proved to be the first step in a diverging pathway leading
to other spheres.

FOOTNOTE:

[2] For words and music see the end of this chapter.

[Illustration: Music: The Missionary Call]

"THE MISSIONARY CALL"

1. My soul is not at rest.
There comes a strange
and secret whisper to
my. . . .
spirit, like a dream of night,
that tells me
I am on enchanted
ground.

CHORUS FOR FIRST FOUR VERSES.

_Vivace._ The voice of my departed LORD, "Go, teach all nations,"

Comes on the night air and awakes mine ear.

CHORUS FOR LAST VERSE.

Through ages of eternal years,
My spirit never shall repent,
that toil and suff'ring once were mine . . . below.

2. Why live I here? the vows of GOD are | on me; | and I may not stop
to play with shadows or pluck earthly flowers, | till I my work
have done, and | rendered up ac | count.

3. And I will | go! | I may no longer doubt to give up friends,
and idol | hopes, | and every tie that binds my heart to | thee, my |
country.

4. Henceforth, then, it matters not, if storm or sunshine be my |
earthly lot, | bitter or sweet my | cup; | I only pray: "GOD make me
holy, and my spirit nerve for the stern | hour of strife!"

5. And when one for whom Satan hath struggled as he hath for | me, |
has gained at last tha