York or Philadelphia, the difficulty of retaining health and vigour will be understood.
Those who in the course of trade or travel tarry for a short time in India, speak of the "luxuries of the East." These luxuries are often attempts to neutralize this ever-present heat, and to enable the foreigner to live and labour in a climate to which by birth and previous habits he is an entire stranger. To the New Englander, amid the hills of Massachusetts, the punkah, the bath, and the aid of servants might seem mere luxuries; but to the same New Englander in India they are no more luxuries than would be a coal fire or a greatcoat in December amid his native hills. They are means used to counteract or make amends for a debilitating climate.
Yet, though he take as many precautions and use as much prudence as he can consistently with his calling, the missionary cannot avoid the effects of this constant heat. He cannot expect to have that measure of vigour, elasticity, and activity which he might have enjoyed at home. Without this vigour, however, many persons will retain so much health and strength as to labour with effect for twenty, thirty, or forty years. There are now five
