le
of his friends? The tears shed might be excused if he were going to
Norfolk Island at the Government expense. But sometimes the missionary
note is pitched on the same key. The white cliffs of Dover become
immensely dear to those who never cared for masses of chalk before.
Pathetic plaints are penned about laying their bones on a foreign shore,
by those who never thought of making aught of their bones at home.
(Bone-dust is dear nowhere, we think.) And then there is the
never-ending talk and wringing of hands over missionary "sacrifices."
The man is surely going to be hanged, instead of going to serve in
Christ's holy Gospel! Is this such service as He deserves who, though
rich, for our sakes became poor? There is so much in the _manner_ of
giving; some bestow their favors so gracefully, their value to the
recipient is doubled. From others, a gift is as good as a blow in the
face. Are we not guilty of treating our Lord somewhat more scurvily than
we would treat our indigent fellow-men? We stereotype the word "charity"
in our language, as applicable to a contribution to his cause. "So many
charities,--we cannot afford them." Is not the word ungraciously applied
to the Lord Jesus, as if He were a poor beggar, and an unworthy one too?
His are the cattle on a thousand hills, the silver and the gold; and
worthy is the Lamb that was slain. We treat Him ill. Bipeds of the
masculine gender assume the piping phraseology of poor old women in
presence of Him before whom the Eastern Magi fell down and
worshiped,--ay, and opened their treasures, and presented unto Him
gifts: gold, frankincense, and myrrh. They will give their "mites" as if
what they do give were their "all." It is utterly unfair to magnify the
little we do for Him by calling it a sacrifice, or pretend we are doing
all we can by assuming the tones of poor widows. He asks a willing mind,
cheerful obedience; and can we not give that to Him who made his
Father's will in our salvation as his meat and his drink, till He bowed
his head and gave up the ghost?

Hundreds of young men annually leave our shores as cadets. All their
friends rejoice when they think of them bearing the commissions of our
Queen. When any dangerous expedition is planned by Government, more
volunteers apply than are necessary to man it. On the proposal to send a
band of brave men in search of Sir John Franklin, a full complement for
the ships could have been procured of officers alone, without any