I wish to tell how my heart was changed through the power of Jesus Christ. But first of all I must make an explanation. When I was a child my parents were poor and I attended school for only two years. Since that time, which is more than thirty years ago, I have scarcely had a pen in my hand, until I take it up now to write this story of my life. It is impossible for an ignorant fellow like myself to write in any but the simplest way; so I shall only attempt to set down simply and truthfully the things that happened to me from my childhood up to the present time, and to tell how I came to believe in the great unmeasureable power and deep mercy of Christ, after I got into prison. In order to do this, I shall have to expose my shame and confess without reserve all my wickedness. But I shall be content if in the future some villain like myself shall be helped by the story of how I was saved through God's leading and the efforts of Miss West and Miss Macdonald, the two ladies who visited me in prison.
A GENTLEMAN IN PRISON II.
MY FAMILY AND UPBRINGING.
At one time my father was purveyor to the feudal lord of Hikone, but he was a very heavy drinker, and often drank more than two quarts of sake a day. He finally failed in business, left Hikone and moved with his family to Nagoya. My mother was the daughter of a Shinto priest at the Atsuta shrine at Nagoya.* I was the youngest of three children, but the other two died when I was quite young.
We lived very comfortably until I was four or five years old, but by that time my father had squandered everything on drink, and my mother was greatly distressed over household matters. She was devoted to me and often went without the necessities of life herself in order to provide for me, her only child.
When I was ten years of age I left school and my mother told me of her troubles. "I do not know what to do about your father," she said, "and I want you to help me. When he leaves home in the morning you must follow him wherever he goes and keep him from drinking." I did as she told me. Little ten-year-old child that I was, I followed my father about, and would pluck at his sleeve when he was passing a saloon. "Do come home with me," I would beg, "Mother is so worried about you." My efforts were usually in vain, and he was often picked out of the gutter and brought home by the neighbors long after midnight. My mother was very proud and felt keenly the family disgrace. Things went from bad to worse and for more than a year we were in very great distress.
