their prayers that that same gracious touch may be felt by others
wherever these talks may go.




The Lone Man Who Went Before



A Call to Friendship.


One day I watched two young men, a Japanese and an American, pacing the
deck of a Japanese liner bound for San Francisco. Their heads were close
together and bent down, and they were talking earnestly. The Japanese was
saying, "Oh, yes, I believe all that as a theory, but is there _power_ to
make a man _live_ it?"

He was an officer of the ship, one of the finest boats on the Pacific. The
American was a young fellow who had gone out to Japan as a government
teacher, and when his earnest sort of Christianity led to his dismissal he
remained, and still remains, as a volunteer missionary. With his rare gift
in personal touch he had won the young officer's confidence, and was
explaining what Christianity stood for, when the Japanese politely
interrupted him with his question about power. The tense eagerness of his
manner and voice let one see the hunger of his heart. He had high ideals
of life, but confessed that every time he was in port, the shore
temptations proved too much, and he always came back on board with a
feeling of bitter defeat. He had read about Christianity and believed it