He had been
to college in Toronto, in Princeton, and away over in Edinburgh,
in the old homeland where his father and mother were born. And
all through his life that call to go and do great deeds for the
King had come again and again. He had determined to obey it when
he was but a little lad at school. He had encountered many big
stones in his way, which he had to break, before he could go on.
But the biggest stone of all lay across his path when college was
over, and he was ready and anxious to go away as a missionary.
The Presbyterian Church of Canada had never yet sent out a
missionary to a foreign land, and some of the good old men bade
George Mackay stay at home and preach the gospel there. But as
usual he conquered. Every one saw he would be a great missionary
if he were only given a chance. At last the General Assembly gave
its consent, and now, in spite of all stones in the way, here he
was, bound for China, and ready to do anything the King
commanded. Land was beginning to fade away into a gray mist, the
November wind was damp and chill, he turned and went down to his
stateroom.
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