his
father's feet. It was the most touching and home-like thing we had
ever seen in family life in China. But, if the shadows rested over
that united and loving home, the Sun of Righteousness was shining also.

Everybody seemed to choose bright hymns about the Heavenly Home and the
coming again of our Lord in glory. Mr. Lue was lying there with a happy
smile on his face, and the last hymn he asked for was "Oh, thou my
soul, bless God the Lord." As we sang our praise to God our souls were
lifted above the sufferings and trials of this life, and seemed to
realize already something of the glory which was to be revealed. One
of our fellow-workers had sent a card for Mr. and Mrs. Lue with Romans
viii. 28 on it, and as we read it, it seemed as if we already saw
beyond the veil, beyond the "workings" to the blessed result--"The joy
unspeakable and full of glory." Mrs. Lue said after a while, "The
longer I sing, the happier I get. My sorrow has quite departed, and is
no more." Oh, how little does the world know what real joy means!
What are all the pleasures this world can offer, yea, even the choicest
ones, compared to one hour's real joy in fellowship and communion with
Him who is the Fount of every Blessing, and in whose presence there is
fulness of joy? Would that the poor souls hungering for rest and
happiness, dissatisfied with the worldly pleasures, tired of their
empty show, might turn to Him who is the source of all true and lasting
joy. How abundantly they would be satisfied with the fatness of His
house, for He would make them drink of the rivers of His pleasure. How
much richer their lives would be already here, to say nothing of the
life hereafter.

Take the world, but give me Jesus,
Other joys are but a name,
But His love abideth ever,
To eternal years the same.
Oh, the height and depth of mercy,
Oh, the length and breadth of love,
Oh, the fulness of salvation,
Pledge of endless life above.

CHAPTER XXII

ENTERING THE VALLEY

The following morning there seemed to be a change in Mr. Lue, and
thinking that the end would come that day we stayed on until the
afternoon, for which he was very grateful. Several times he would say,
"I know quite well why you are staying here, it is only for my sake. I
shall never be able to repay you for what you have done for me, but God
will." And yet it seemed so little that one had been able to do for
him, and he had been such a he