manity.

What I am about to say may seem more like sermon than lecture, but I
believe it will be the best thing I have said when the lecture closes.
In the formula of human touch, laid down in the life of Jesus of
Nazareth, there is more saving influence for national endurance than
in all the wealth of our country's treasury.

From the time His beautiful mother wrapped Him in coarse linen, and
cradled Him on cattle straw in that Bethlehem barn, on up to His death
on the cross, He was ever touching the masses, healing their diseases,
soothing their sorrows and teaching the lesson, "the more humanity you
place at the bottom the better citizenship you will have at the top."
In the golden rule of this human touch lies the hope of this home of
the free.

A little boy boarded a car in New York City. A few feet from him sat a
finely-dressed lady and as the boy stared at her, he moved nearer and
nearer until he was close beside her.

"What do you mean by getting so close to me? Don't you see you have
put mud on my dress from your shoes? Move away," said the lady.

The little urchin replied: "I'm so sorry I got mud on your dress; I
didn't mean to do it."

"Where are you going, all by your little self, anyway?"

"I'm going to my aunt's where I live."

"Have you no mother?"

"No mam; she died four weeks ago. I ain't got any mother now, and
that's why I was settin' up close to you to make believe you wuz my
mother. I'm sorry 'bout the mud, you'll 'scuse me, won't you, good
lady?"

The woman extending her hand said: "Yes I will; come here," and soon
her arm was about him, and tears in her eyes, and the boy could have
wiped his feet on any dress in that car without rebuke. We want more
of human touch in national and individual life.

A tramp called at a fine home for his supper. The owner said: "You can
have something to eat provided you do some work beforehand."

"What can I do," asked the "hobo."

A set of harness was given him to clean. The gentleman went to his
supper, and soon after a blue-eyed, golden-haired girl of four years
came out, and approaching the tramp, said: "Good evening, sir. Is you
got a little girl like me?"

"No, I am all alone in the world."

"Ain't you got no mama and papa?"

"No, they died a long time ago," and the tramp wiped away a tear as
memory came rolling up from out the hallowed past.

"Oh! I'm so sorry for you, 'cause I have a home and papa and mama."

The man of the house came