not the right time of day, and, besides, I like to come here; and why should I not?’ He was asked again, ‘Do you know that this burning of incense and seeking for oracular information at an idol’s shrine is displeasing to God? It is as unwise, therefore, as it is unreasonable, to apply to this god to tell you what medicine you should use.’ At this point, the Taoist priest came to the defense of his system. ‘You believe in Jesus. We believe in our gods. Religions differ according to place, and every country has its own divinities. We have Kwan-kung, for example, the god of war, and other divinities, holding the same place among us that Jesus does among you.’ He was asked, ‘How can these supposed gods benefit you? They are but the imaginary representatives of men belonging to your nation, who long ago died.’ The Taoist asked in reply, ‘Is it not the same with Jesus? He also is long since dead. What benefit do you expect from him?’ He was then told, ‘We do not make an image of Him, place it in a shrine, and cast lots before it, expecting to learn, by so doing, how a disease is to be cured. The parallel is not accurate. The benefit we expect from Him is that He will help us in becoming virtuous, and in attaining a happy future life. The object of our religious books is to free us from sin, and Jesus, who still lives in Heaven, is able to secure us this.’ The reference to books led him to remark, ‘We have our books, too, to exhort men to virtue.’ He took up a copy of a well-known work, often distributed gratuitously in China. ‘This,’ he said, ‘is the Kan-ying-peen (Book of Retribution); all that it contains is intended to make men better. It promises long life to the good, and all kinds of calamities to the wicked. Our object is the same as yours--to make men good.’ He was reminded that, according to the doctrine of this book, happiness and misery were the rewards of virtue and vice, and that this did not agree with the system of divination on which his temple depended for its support, and was asked why he encouraged those who frequented it to expect good from the throwing of sticks on the floor, and the shaking of lots together in a wooden cup, if good and ill fortune were awarded to men by Heaven only according to character. To this the priest of Tao replied, as he sat surrounded by his boxes of medicines, arranged in pigeon-holes, with his recipe-book on the table before him, from which he selected the appropriate nostrum under the guidance of the oracle, ‘If the person who comes to worship is wicked at heart, he will not be heard; the oracle will fail.’ ‘But,’ it was remarked, ‘if he be only virtuous, he need not come here at all. The great thing is to be good.’” Such are the tenets of Taoism. THE OLD BOY.