the see-saw will be always
one way? A revolution in this world, or justice in the next! Which would
you rather face?"

Deyes bowed slightly.

"You have given me an answer, sir, for which I thank you," he answered.
"But you must allow me to remind you of the great stream of gold which
flows all the while from the West to the East. Hospitals, mission
houses, orphanages, colonial farms--are we to have no credit for these?"

"Very little," Macheson answered, "for you give of your superfluity.
Charity has little to do with the cheque-book. Besides, you must
remember this. I am not here to-day to plead the cause of the East. I am
here to talk to you of your own lives. I represent, if you are pleased
to have it so, the Sandow of your spiritual body. I ask you to submit
your souls to my treatment, as the professor of physical culture would
ask for your bodies. This is not a matter of religion at all. It is a
matter, if you choose to call it so, of philosophy. Your souls need
exercise. You need a course of thinking and working for the good of some
one else--not for your own benefit. Give up one sin in your life, and
replace it with a whole-hearted effort to rescue one unfortunate person
from sin and despair, and you will gain what I understand to be the
desire of all of you--a new pleasure. Briefly, for your own sakes, from
your own point of view, it is a personal charity which I am advocating,
as distinguished from the charity of the cheque-book."

"One more question, Mr. Macheson," Deyes continued quietly. "Where do we
find the lost souls--I mean upon what principle of selection do we
work?"

"There are many excellent institutions through which you can come into
touch with them," Macheson answered. "You can hear of these through the
clergyman of your own parish, or the Bishop of London."

Deyes thanked him and sat down. The lecture was over, and the people
slowly dispersed. Macheson passed into the room at the back of the
platform. Drayton, who was waiting for him there, pushed over a box of
cigarettes. He knew that Macheson loved to smoke directly he had
finished talking.

"Macheson," he said solemnly, "you're a marvel. Why, in my country, I
guess they'd come and scratch your eyes out before they'd stand plain
speaking like that."

Macheson was looking away into vacancy.

"I wonder," he said softly, "if it does any good--any real good?"

Drayton, who was looking through a cash-book with gleaming eyes, opened
his