e in an angry drunken
mob, and had quelled their rage by singing to them "Anywhere with
Jesus"; how, finally, he had fallen ill, and had hoped in his extreme
weariness for the great release, but had come back from the gates of
death with a new hope for the success of his work; and as he spoke,
that light which fell upon the face of the dying Stephen rested also on
his face; for he also saw, and made me see, the heavens opened, and
Jesus standing at the right hand of the throne of God. He was only a
lumber-jack, but to these men he was a Christ. He was poor, so poor,
that I marvelled how he lived; but he had adopted into his home the
forsaken child of a drunken lumberman, whose wife was dead. His life
was full of hardship, but never have I met a happier man. For he had
found the one secret of all noble and tranquil living, the life of
service; and as I grasped his hand at parting and remembered how often
it had rested in healing sympathy upon the evil and the weary, I
thought of the words of the blessed Master, "He laid His hands upon
her, and the fever left her, and she rose and ministered unto Him."

Another man of the same order I have talked with as these concluding
lines were written. He had begun life with brilliant prospects as a
lawyer, had been wrecked by drink, and one night while drunk had fallen
overboard into deep water, and had with difficulty been brought back to
life. From that hour his life was changed. He went to a Western city
and became a missionary to drunkards and harlots. He told me of a
youth of nineteen he had recently visited in prison. The youth was a
murderer, and the woman he had loved had committed suicide. He was
utterly impervious to reproof, did not want to live, and said that if
his mistress had gone to hell he wanted to go there too, for she was
the only human creature who had ever loved him. "God loves you," said
my friend; "yes, and I love you too. I know how you feel. You want
just to be loved. Come, my poor boy, let me love you." And at that
appeal this youth, with triple murder on his conscience, melted, and
flung his arms round the neck of his visitor, and sobbed out all the
story of his sin and shame. O exquisite moment when the heart melts at
the touch of love--could all the heaped-up gains of a life of pleasure
or ambition yield such felicity as this? For this man's face, rough
and plain as it was, glowed as he spoke with the same light that
beatified the featu