t
work among high-caste Hindus all over India (as among Moslems all over
the world) is very difficult. It is true that open confession of Christ
creates disastrous division in families. It is true there is other work
to be done.

Especially we feel the force of the second objection raised. We fully
recognise that the right thing is for the convert to live among her own
people, and let her light shine in her own home; and we deplore the
terrible wrench involved in what is known as "coming out." To a people
so tenacious of custom as the Indians are, to a nature so affectionate
as the Indian nature is, this cutting across of all home ties is a very
cruel thing.

And now, only that we may not miss your prayer, we set ourselves to try
to answer you. And, first of all, let us grasp this fact: it is not
fair, nor is it wise, to compare work, and success in work, between one
set of people and another, because the conditions under which that work
is carried on are different, and the unseen forces brought to bear
against it differ in character and in power. There is sometimes more
"result" written down in a single column of a religious weekly than is
to be found in the 646 pages of one of the noblest missionary books of
modern days, _On the Threshold of Central Africa_. Or take two typical
opposite lives, Moody's and Gilmour's. Moody saw more soul-winning in a
day than Gilmour in his twenty-one years. It was not that the _men_
differed. Both knew the Baptism of Power, both lived in Christ and
loved. But these are extremes in comparison; take two, both
missionaries, twin brothers in spirit, Brainerd of North America and
Henry Martyn of India. Brainerd saw many coming to Jesus; Martyn hardly
one. Each was a pioneer missionary, each was a flame of fire. "Now let
me burn out for God," wrote Henry Martyn, and he did it. But the
conditions under which each worked varied as widely spiritually as they
varied climatically. Can we compare their work, or measure it by its
visible results? _Did God?_ Let us leave off comparing this with
that--we do not know enough to compare. Let us leave off weighing
eternal things and balancing souls in earthly scales. Only God's scales
are sufficiently sensitive for such delicate work as that.

We take up the objections one by one. First, "_Why do you go where you
are not wanted?_"

We go because we believe our Master told us to go. He said, "all the
world," and "every creature." Our marching orders