There in the long beautiful living-room of the Hostel sat a little audience, two black women-the cooks-several women in neat aprons and caps as if they had come in from their work, a soldier who had been reading the morning paper and who quietly laid it aside when the Bible reading began, a sailor who tiptoed up the two low steps from the café beyond the living-room where he had been having his morning coffee and doughnuts—the young clerk from behind the office desk. They all sat quiet, respectful, as if accorded a sudden, unexpected privilege. [Illustration: Thomas Estill Commissioner of the Western Forces] [Illustration: The hut at Camp Lewis] The reading was a few well-chosen verses about Moses in the mount of vision and somehow seemed to have a strange quieting influence and carried a weight of reality read thus in the beginning of a busy day’s work. The reader closed the book and quite familiarly, not at all pompously, he said with a pleasant smile that this was a lesson for all of them. Each one should have his vision for the day. The cook should have a vision as she made the doughnuts—and he called her by her name—to make them just as well as they could be made; and the women who made the beds should have a vision of how they could make the beds smooth and soft and fine to rest weary comers; and those who cleaned must have a vision to make the house quite pure and sweet so that it would be a home for the boys who came there; the clerk at the desk should have a vision to make the boys comfortable and give them a welcome; and everyone should have a vision of how to do his work in the best way, so that all who came there for a day or a night or longer should have a vision when they left that God was ruling in that place and that everything was being done for His praise. Just a few simple words bringing the little family of workers into touch with the Divine and giving them a glimpse of the great plan of laboring with God where no work is menial, and nothing too small to be worth doing for the love of Christ. Then the little company dropped upon their knees, and the earnest voice took up a prayer which was more an intimate word with a trusted beloved Companion; and they all arose to go about that work of theirs with new zest and—a vision! In her alcove out of sight the visitor found refreshment for her own soul, and a vision also. This is the secret of this wonderful work that these people do in France, in the cities, everywhere; they have a vision! They have been upon the Mountain with God and they have not forgotten the injunction: “See that thou do all things according to the pattern given thee in the Mount” But the stories multiply and my space is drawing to a close. I am minded to say reverently in words of old: