questions that all the world is asking. What is the true answer; where
may we find it? Whose holy book holds the key that will open wide
the door?

All have a hunger of the soul for something beside life's meat and
drink; all want a remedy for the sorrows of the world. The Buddhists
believe that it can be found in the destruction of desire, by renouncing
the world and following the noble path of peace until death shall open
the portals of the unknowable, everlasting stillness from which there is
no return. The Confucianists say the remedy is found within the world
by fulfilling all its duties and leaving to a greater Justice the future and
its rewards. The Christians give a whispered message of hope to the
lonely soul beating against the bars of the world about him, and say
that a life of love and joy and peace is the gift of their great
Messenger, and when the years have passed that He stands within
an archway to welcome those, His chosen, to a land of bliss where
we shall meet all who have loved us and whom we have loved in life,
and gaze upon His face.

Which is the Way, which path to God is broad enough for all the
world?

Kwei-li.

16
My Dear Mother,
I received thy letter which was full of reproaches most unjust. I have
not broken my word, given to thee so long ago. I opened the home for
friendless children, not because it belonged to a mission of a foreign
religion, but because I think it a most worthy cause. There are many
homeless little ones in this great city, and these people give them
food and clothing and loving care, and because it is given in the name
of a God not found within our temples, is that a reason for withholding
our encouragement?

Thou hast made my heart most heavy. Twenty-five years ago, when
my first-born son was taken from me, I turned from Gods who gave no
comfort in my time of need: all alone with hungry winds of bitterness
gnawing the lute strings of my desolate mother-heart, I stood upon my
terrace, and fought despair. My days were without hope and my
nights were long hours filled with sorrow, when sleep went trailing
softly by and left me to the old dull pain of memory. I called in anguish
upon Kwan-yin, and she did not hear my prayer. The painted smile
upon her lips but mocked me, and in despair I said, "There are no
Gods," and in my lonely court of silent dreams I lost the thread of
worldly care until my tiny bark of life was nearly drifting out upon the
unknown sea.

Tho