I doing the right thing?' The answer came the
night before the men left for the Front. It had been a record day, every
moment had been crowded, and they had sold out. The majority had
retired for the night, a few remained to tidy up the tents. This task
accomplished, a group of soldiers gathered round the leader, and the
talk soon turned quite naturally to some of the deepest problems of
life. Presently a stalwart young Gordon Highlander told of his home in
far away Scotland, of his farewell to his dear old mother before he went
out to India, and of the promise he made her--the promise he had not
kept--to read his Bible every day, to lead a pure clean life, and to
keep clear of drink. The atmosphere of that crowded Y.M.C.A. tent had
brought it all back to him and, unknown to the staff, he had renewed his
vows to God and his mother. In making this confession he was overcome by
emotion, and throwing his arms round the leader's neck he sobbed out the
story of his repentance. There is no more moving sight than the anguish
of a strong man, probably no sight that gives more joy in Heaven than
the tears that tell of the return of the one that had been lost.

* * * * *

A young Canadian officer who had lost a leg and an arm wrote to me
before sailing to Montreal from Bristol in May 1918, and this is what he
said:--'I would like to tell you how much we have appreciated the
Y.M.C.A. I came over with the first batch of Canadians; we were drafted
to Larkhill, Salisbury Plain. After leaving my home--a godly home--I
fell into the hands of very ungodly people and sank very, very deep in.
I was lying on the roadside much the worse for drink. I was down and
couldn't get up; comrades and every one seemed to have left me. I saw
one of your cars rush by. When it had passed about a hundred yards, out
jumped a Y.M.C.A. man. He came back to me and said, "Come along my
friend, I will take you to your hut." I looked at him and said, "I've
sunk too low for a man like you to touch me." He helped me up, took me
to my hut, and said, "This is my work in the Y.M.C.A., to help the
helpless. Come in and have a cup of tea with me to-morrow." Shamefaced,
I went the next day. He was there to greet me; he talked and prayed with
me, but I saw no light until one night in the trenches, I thought I
heard this man praying, and I heard it again and again, and had no rest
till I laid my sins at the foot of the Cross. Although I am g