Jee Gam has a little group of pupils in our Central school so eager to study the Bible that they often remain an extra hour (from 9:30 to 10:30 P.M.) for instruction from him. One in this group, as deeply interested and as intelligent and constant as any, is a brother to two of our Chinese brethren, but has never himself confessed Christ. Jee Gam wondered at this, and began to inquire into it closely. The young man replied, “My brothers are both Christians. I am the only one left to worship my mother when she dies. It would break her heart if she thought she had not even _one_ son left to worship her.” I confess that as I “took in the situation” I felt the tears starting. What shall we say to such a soul? This led to an item in the experience of Jee Gam himself. “When I left home the last time,” he said, “my father, knowing that I had not joined him in the worship of ancestors, and knowing _why_ I had not, walked with me outside the village, urging me to promise to worship him when he should die.” He appealed not only to Jee Gam’s affection but to his fears. “‘If you do not worship me,’ he said, ‘my ghost shall pursue you and punish you.’ I could not so pain him as to say that I would not worship him, and I could not say that I would worship him, and so, I said over and over again, ‘I will do what is right.’ And these were the last words I ever said to my father: ‘Father, I will do what is right.’” A few days ago Rev. D. D. Jones, formerly laboring as a missionary in South China, was speaking to me of one of the members of our Church who succumbed to the pressure brought to bear upon him at his marriage in China, and bowed to the idols. Immediately afterwards, deeply penitent, he went to the chapel in some neighboring village, where Mr. Jones was just then preaching, and confessed his fault. “I was not afraid of what they threatened to do to me, but when they began to persecute my mother I could not bear it.”