[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":4},["ShallowReactive",2],{"reading-1114":3},"NOVEMBER 14\r\nExcept a grain of wheat fall into the ground and die, it remains a single grain, but if it dies away in the ground, the grain is freed    to spring up in a plant bearing many grains (John 12:24).\r\n\r\nGo to the old burying ground of Northampton, Mass., and look upon the early grave of David Brainerd, beside that of the fair Jerusha\r\nEdwards, whom he loved but did not live to wed.\r\nWhat hopes, what expectations for Christ's cause went down to the grave with the wasted form of that young missionary of whose work nothing now remained but the dear memory, and a few score of\r\nswarthy Indian converts! But that majestic old Puritan saint,\r\nJonathan Edwards, who had hoped to call him his son, gathered up the memorials of his life in a little book, and the little book\r\ntook wings and flew beyond the sea, and alighted on the table of a Cambridge student, Henry Martyn.\r\nPoor Martyn! Why should he throw himself away, with all his scholarship, his genius, his opportunities! What had he\r\naccomplished when he turned homeward from \"India's coral strand,\" broken in health, and dragged himself northward as far as that\r\ndreary khan at Tocat by the Black Sea, where he crouched under the piled-up saddles, to cool his burning fever against the earth, and\r\nthere died alone?\r\nTo what purpose was this waste? Out of that early grave of\r\nBrainerd, and the lonely grave of Martyn far away by the splashing\r\nof the Euxine Sea, has sprung the noble army of modem missionaries. --Leonard Woolsey Bacon.\r\nIs there some desert, or some boundless sea,\r\nWhere Thou, great God of angels, wilt send me?\r\nSome oak for me to rend,   Some sod for me to break,\r\nSome handful of Thy corn to take And scatter far afield,\r\nTill it in turn shall yield Its hundredfold Of grains of gold To feed the happy children of my God?\r\nShow me the desert, Father, or the sea;\r\nIs it Thine enterprise? Great God, send me!  And though this body lies where ocean rolls, Father, count me among all faithful souls.",1783499794033]