I am surprised that I cannot recall whether my desire to become a minister transformed itself into a wish to lead the more militant¹ life of missionary², by a slow process or suddenly.  
It seems to me that the change must have come at a very early period. For a long time I had taken an interest in Protestant missions, especially in those established in Southern Africa, among the Bassoutos. During my childhood we subscribed³ for the “Messenger,” a monthly journal that had for frontispiece an interesting picture which, very early in my life, made a forcible impression upon me.
 
This picture held a higher place in my regard than those of which I have already spoken, but by no means because of its execution, its color or background. It represented an impossible pine tree growing at the edge of a sea, behind which a resplendent sun was setting, and, at the foot of the tree, there was a young savage⁵ who was watching the approach of a ship, from a distant point upon the horizon, that was bringing to him the glad tidings of Salvation⁶.
 
Early in my life, when from the warm depths of my soft and downy nest, I looked out upon a yet formless world, that picture evoked⁷ many dreams; later when I was more capable of appreciating the extreme crudity

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