of his days in just such a fashion; but I know not what obscure feeling had gradually taken hold of him that his life was too lazy, too contented. I think he was always a religious man, and perhaps some early belief, instilled into him in childhood and long forgotten, of a jealous God who hated his creatures to be happy on earth, rankled in the depths of his heart; I think, because he was so well satisfied with his life, he began to think it was sinful, A restless anxiety seized him. Whatever he thought with his intelligence, his instincts began to tremble with the dread of eternal punishment. I do not know what put the idea of China into his head, but at first he must have thrust it aside with violent repulsion; and perhaps the very violence of his repulsion impressed the idea on him, for he found it haunting him. I think he said that he would not go, but I think he felt that he would have to. God was pursuing him, and wherever he hid himself, God followed. With his reason he struggled, hut with his heart he was caught* He could not help himself. At last he gave in.
I knew I should never see him again, and I had not the time to wait before a reasonable familiarity would permit me to talk of more intimate matters. "Tell me," I said, "do you believe God will condemn the Chinese to eternal punishment if they don't accept Christianity?"
I am sure my question was crude and tactless, for the old man in him tightened his lips. But he answered. "The whole teaching of the gospel forces one to that conclusion. There is not a single argument that people have adduced to the contrary which has the force of the plain words of Jesus Christ."
