treated him with sorrow and tears. His seniors reasoned with him, and were offended because he would not yield to them. Others were hindering him, and were talking behind his back and saying, 'Why does he run into danger amongst enemies who know not God?' They objected that one rustic in his manners and without proper education was unfit for the work. They even went so far as to bring against him an indiscretion of his boyhood, and to urge that by it he was for ever rendered unfit for the office of a Christian missionary. 'It was on account of the anxiety which it occasioned me,' he says, 'and with a sorrowful mind that I unbosomed myself to my dearest friend, telling him what I had done in my youth in one day, nay, rather, in one hour, because I was not yet able to overcome.' His 'dearest friend' on this occasion betrayed his confidence, hoping by this means to dissuade him from what seemed to be a most hazardous enterprise. So persistent was the opposition with which he was met that many refused to the last to recognise his work. He obtained in the end an abundant reward for his labour—'beautiful and beloved children,' as he puts it, 'brought forth in Christ in such multitudes.' Thus it was shown that his work was the work of God. But not even then did his friends regard his mission with favour. 'Mine own people,' he says regretfully, 'do not acknowledge me: a prophet has no honour in his own country.'
It is not to be wondered at that under such circumstances Patrick hesitated long before taking the decisive step. It was a grief to him in after years that he was so slow in obeying the heavenly call. 'I ought to give thanks to God without ceasing,' he says, 'who often pardoned my uncalled-
