The Skeptical Lady.

When Mr. Sankey and I were in the north of England, I was preaching one evening, and before me sat a lady who was a skeptic. When I had finished, I asked all who were anxious, to remain. Nearly all remained, herself among the number. I asked her if she was a Christian, and she said she was not, nor did she care to be. I prayed for her there. On inquiry, I learned that she was a lady of good social position, but very worldly. She continued to attend the meetings, and in a week after I saw her in tears. After the sermon, I went to her and asked if she was of the same mind as before. She replied that Christ had come to her and she was happy. Last Autumn I had a note from her husband saying she was dead, that her love for the Master had continually increased. When I read that note, I felt paid for crossing the Atlantic. She worked sweetly after her conversion, and was the means of winning many of her fashionable friends to Christ. O, may you seek the Lord while He may be found, and may you call upon Him while He is near.



GOLD.

— I would rather go into the kingdom of heaven through the poor house than go down to hell in a golden chariot.

— I believe there are more young men who come to Boston who are lost because they cannot say no, than for any other reason.

— It ain't necessary to leave the things of this life when you follow Him. It is not necessary to give up your business, if it's a legitimate one, in order to accept Christ. But you mustn't set your heart on the old nets by a good deal.

— A great many people want to bring their faith, their works, their good deeds to Him for salvation. Bring your sins, and He will bear them away into the wilderness of forgetfulness, and you will never see them again.

— Do you believe that He would send those men out to preach the gospel to every creature unless he wanted every creature to be saved? Do you believe He would tell them to preach it to people without giving people the power to accept it? Do you believe the God of heaven is mocking men by offering them his gospel and not giving them the power to take hold of it? Do you believe He will not give men power to accept this salvation as a gift? Man might do that, but God never mocks men. And when he says "Preach the gospel to every creature," every creature can be saved if he will.

— Lift your eyes from off these puny Christians—from off these human ministers, and look to Christ. He is the Saviour of the world. He came from the throne to this earth: He came from the very bosom of the Father. God gave Him up freely for us, and all we have to do is to accept him as our Saviour. Look at Him at Gethsemane, sweating as it were great drops of blood; look at Him on the cross, crucified between two thieves; hear that piercing cry, "Father, Father, forgive them, they know not what they do." And as you look into that face, as you look into those wounds on His feet or His hands, will you say He has not the power to save you? Will you say He has not the power to redeem you?



SONG STORIES.

"Hold the fort, For I am Coming."

I am told that when General Sherman went through Atlanta towards the sea—through the Southern States—he left in the fort in the Kennesaw Mountains a little handful of men to guard some rations that he brought there. And General Hood got into the outer rear and attacked the fort, drove the men in from the outer works into the inner works, and for a long time the battle raged fearfully. Half of the men were either killed or wounded; the general who was in command was wounded seven different times; and when they were about ready to run up the white flag and surrender the fort, Sherman got within fifteen miles, and through the signal corps on the mountain he sent the message: "Hold the fort; I am coming. W. T. Sherman." That message fired up their hearts, and they held the fort till reinforcements came, and the fort did not go into the hands of their enemies. Our friend, Mr. Bliss, has written a hymn entitled "Hold the fort for I am coming," and I'm going to ask Mr. Sankey to sing that hymn. I hope there will be a thousand young converts coming into our ranks to help hold the fort. Our Saviour is in command, and He is coming. Let us take up the chorus.

Ho! my comrades, see the signal Waving in the sky! Reinforcements now appearing, Victory is nigh!

CHO.— "Hold the fort, for I am coming," Jesus signals still. Wave the answer back to heaven, "By Thy grace we will."

See the mighty hosts advancing, Satan leading on; Mighty men around us falling, Courage almost gone.—Cho

See the glorious banner waving Hear the bugle blow. In our Leader's name we'll triumph Over every foe.—Cho.

Fierce and long the battle rages, But our Help is near; Onward comes our Great Commander, Cheer, my comrades, cheer!—Cho.

P. P. Bliss.



"Let the Lower Lights be Burning."

A few years ago at the mouth of Cleveland harbor there were two lights, one at each side of the bay, called the upper and lower lights; and to enter the harbor safely by night, vessels must sight both of the lights. These western lakes are more dangerous sometimes than the great ocean. One wild, stormy night, a steamer was trying to make her way into the harbor. The Captain and pilot were anxiously watching for the lights. By and by the pilot was heard to say, "Do you see the lower lights?" "No," was the reply; "I fear we have passed them." "Ah, there are the lights," said the pilot; "and they must be from the bluff on which they stand, the upper lights. We have passed the lower lights; and have lost our chance of getting into the harbor;" What was to be done? They looked back, and saw the dim outline of the lower lighthouse against the sky. The lights had gone out. "Can't you turn your head around?" "No; the night is too wild for that. She won't answer to her helm." The storm was so fearful that they could do nothing. They tried again to make for the harbor, but they went crash against the rocks, and sank to the bottom. Very few escaped; the great majority found a watery grave. Why? Simply because the lower lights had gone out. Now with us the upper lights are all right. Christ himself is the upper light, and we are the lower lights, and the cry to us is, Keep the lower lights burning; that is what we have to do. He will lead us safe to the sunlit shore of Canaan, where there is no more night.

Brightly beams our Father's mercy From His lighthouse ever more. But to us He gives the keeping Of the lights along the shore.

CHO.— Let the lower lights be burning! Send a gleam across the wave! Some poor fainting struggling seaman You may rescue, you may save.

Dark the night of sin has settled, Loud and angry billows roar; Eager eye's are watching, longing, For the lights along the shore.—Cho.

Trim your feeble lamp, my brother; Some poor seaman tempest-tost, Trying now to make the harbor, In the darkness may be lost.—Cho.

P. P. BLISS.



"More to Follow."

Rowland Hill tells a good story of a rich man and a poor man in his congregation. The rich man desired to do an act of benevolence, and so he sent a sum of money to a friend to be given to this poor man as he thought best. The friend, just sent him five pounds, and said in the note: "This is thine; use it wisely; there is more to follow." After a while he sent another five pounds and said, "more to follow." Again and again, he sent the money to the poor man, always with the cheering words, "more to follow." So it is with the wonderful grace of God. There is always "more to follow."

Have you on the Lord believed? Still there's more to follow; Of His grace have you received? Still there's more to follow; Oh, the grace the Father shows! Still there's more to follow, Freely He His grace bestows, Still there's more to follow.

CHO.— More and more, more and more, Always more to follow, Oh, his boundless matchless love! Still there's more to follow.

Have you felt the Saviour near? Still there's more to follow; Does His blessed presence, cheer? Still there's more to follow; Oh, the love that Jesus shows! Still there's more to follow, Freely He His love bestows, Still there's more to follow.—Cho.

Have you felt the spirit's power? Still there's more to follow; Falling like the gentle shower? Still there's more to follow; Oh, the power the spirit shows! Still there's more to follow, Freely He His power bestows, Still there's more to follow.—Cho.

P. P. Bliss.



"Pull for the Shore, Sailor."

A vessel was wrecked off the shore. Eager eyes were watching and strong arms manned the life-boat. For hours they tried to reach that vessel through the great breakers that raged and foamed on the sand-bank but it seemed impossible. The boat appeared to be leaving the crew to perish. But after a while the Captain and sixteen men were taken off, and the vessel went down. "When the life-boat came to you," said a friend, "did you expect it had brought some tools to repair your old ship?" "Oh, no," was the response; "she was a total wreck. Two of her masts were gone, and if we had stayed mending her, only a few minutes, we must have gone down, sir." "When once off the old wreck and safe in the life-boat, what remained for you to do?" "Nothing, sir, but just to pull for the shore."

Light in the darkness, sailor, day is at hand! See o'er the foaming billows fair Haven's land, Drear was the voyage, sailor, now almost o'er Safe within the life-boat, sailor, pull for the shore.

CHO.— Pull for the shore, sailor, pull for the shore! Heed not the rolling waves, but bend to the oar; Safe in the life-boat, sailor, cling to self no more! Leave the poor old stranded wreck, and pull for the shore.

Trust in the life-boat, sailor, all else will fail, Stronger the surges dash and fiercer the gale, Heed not the stormy winds, though loudly they roar; Watch the "bright morning star," and pull for the shore.-Cho.

Bright gleams the morning, sailor, lift up thy eye; Clouds and darkness disappearing, glory is nigh! Safe in the life-boat, sailor, sing evermore; "Glory, glory, hallelujah!" pull for the shore.—Cho.

P. P. BLISS.



TRUST.

"I Am Trusting Jesus"—A Young Lady's Trust.

The other Sunday, when I was speaking on "Trust," a person came to me next day and said, "I want to tell you how I was saved. You remember you told about that lady who sought Christ three years and could not find Him, and when you told that, it was I. I was in that same condition and through your story I got light." I don't think I have ever told it but what somebody got light and life. I will tell it again, for I would go up and down the world telling it if I could get a convert. One night I was preaching, and happening to cast my eyes down during the sermon, I saw two eyes just riveted upon me. Every word that fell from my lips she just seemed to catch with her own lips, and I was very anxious to go down where she was. After the Sermon I went to the pew and said, "My friend, are you a Christian?" "Oh, no," said she, "I wish I was. I have been seeking Christ three years and I cannot find Him." Said I; "Oh, there is a great mistake about that." Says she, "'Do you think I am not in earnest? Do you think, sir, I have not been seeking Christ?" Said I, "I suppose you think you have, but Christ has been seeking you these twenty years, and it would not take an anxious sinner and an anxious Saviour three years to meet, and if you had been really seeking Him you would have found Him long before this." "What would you do, then?" Said I, "Do nothing, only believe on the Lord Jesus Christ and thou shalt be saved." "Oh," said she, "I have heard that till my head swims. Everybody says, believe! believe! believe! and I am none the wiser. I don't know what you mean by it." "Very well," said I, "I will drop the word; but just trust the Lord Jesus Christ to save." "If I say I trust Him, will He save me?" "No, you may do a thousand things; but if you really trust Him, He will save you." "Well," said she, "I trust Him, but I don't feel any different." "Ah," said I, "I have found your difficulty. You have been hunting for feeling all these three years. You have not been looking for Christ." Says she, "Christians tell how much joy they have got." "But," said I, "you want Christian experience before you get one. Instead of trusting God, you are looking for Christian experience." Then I said: "Right here in this pew, just commit yourself to the Lord Jesus Christ, and trust Him, and you will be saved," and I held her right to that word "trust," which is the same as the word "believe" in the Old Testament. "You know what it is to trust a friend. Cannot you trust God as a friend?" She looked at me for five minutes, it seemed, and then said slowly: "Mr. Moody, I trust the Lord Jesus Christ this night to save my soul." Turning to the pastor of the church she took him by the hand and repeated the declaration. Turning to an elder in the church she said again the solemn words, and near the door, meeting another officer of the church, she repeated for the fourth time, "I am trusting Jesus," and went off home. The next night when I was preaching I saw her right in front of me, "Eternity" written in her eyes, her face lighted up, and when I asked inquirers to go into the other room she was the first to go in. I wondered at it, for I could see by her face that she was in the joy of the Lord. But when I got in I found her with her arms around a young lady's neck, and I heard her say, "It is only just trusting. I stumbled over it three years and found it all in trusting;" and the three weeks I was there she led more souls to Christ than anybody else. If I got a difficult case I would send it to her. Oh, my friends, won't you trust Him? Let us put our trust in Him.



Mrs. Moody Teaching her Child.

There was a time when our little boy did not like to go to church, and would get up in the morning and say to his mother, "What day is to-morrow?" "Tuesday." "Next day?" "Wednesday." "Next day?" "Thursday;" and so on, till he came to the answer, "Sunday." "Dear me," he said. I said to the mother, "We cannot have our boy grow up to hate Sunday in this way; that will never do. That is the way I used to feel when I was a boy. I used to look upon Sunday with a certain amount of dread. Very few kind words were associated with the day. I don't know that the minister ever put his hand on my head. I don't know that the minister even noticed me, unless it was when I was asleep in the gallery, and he woke me up. This kind of thing won't do; we must make the Sunday the most attractive day of the week; not a day to be dreaded; but a day of pleasure." Well the mother took the work up with this boy. Bless those mothers in their work with the children. Sometimes I feel as if I would rather be the mother of John Wesley or Martin Luther or John Knox than have all the glories in the world. Those mothers who are faithful with the children God has given them will not go unrewarded. My wife went to work and took those Bible stories and put those blessed truths in a light that the child could comprehend, and soon the feeling of dread for the Sabbath with the boy was the other way, "What day's to-morrow?" he would ask, "Sunday." "I am glad." And if we make those Bible truths interesting—break them up in some shape so that these children can get at them, then they will begin to enjoy them.



WISDOM.

— I remember a gentleman of Boston, a man high in life, a Congressman, who was accustomed to carry with him little cards and distribute them wherever he went, and on some of these cards were words like these: "I expect to pass through this world but once, and therefore if there be any kindness I can show, if there is anything I can do to make men happy, I shall do it, for I may not pass this way again."

— A man was asked what his persuasion was. He said it was the same as Paul's. I don't know what Paul's persuasion was. All persuasions claim him. Sankey says he is a Methodist. Listen: "I am not ashamed, for I know whom I believe, and am persuaded that He is able to keep that which I have committed to Him." That is Paul's persuasion. You may call it what you have a mind to, it is a good persuasion.

— If we are going to be successful, we have got to take our stand for God, and let the world and everyone know we are on the Lord's side. I have great respect for the woman that started out during the war with a poker. She heard the enemy were coming and went to resist them. When some one asked her what she could do with the poker, she said she would at least let them know what side she was on. And that is what we want.

— Let us do all the work we can. If we can't be a lighthouse, let us be a tallow candle. There used to be a period when people came to meeting bringing their candles with them. The first one, perhaps, wouldn't make a great illumination, but when two or three got there, there would be more light. If the people of Boston should do that now, if each one should come here in this Tabernacle, with a candle, don't you think there would be a little light.

— When I was a little boy I used to try and catch my own shadow. I don't know whether any of you have ever been so foolish as that or not. I could not see why the shadow always kept ahead of me. Once I happened to be racing with my face to the sun and I looked over my head and saw my shadow coming back of me, and it kept behind me all the way. It is the same with the Sun of Righteousness. Peace and joy will go with you while you go with your face toward Him.

— There are nine different qualities—peace, gentleness, long-suffering, hope, patience, charity, etc., but you can sum them all into one, and you have love. I saw something in writing the other day bearing upon the subject which I just took a copy of: "The fruit of the Spirit is in just one word—love. Joy is love exalted; peace is love in repose, long-suffering is love enduring, gentleness is love in society, goodness is love in action, faith is love on the battle field, meekness is love in school, and temperance is love in training. And so you can say that the fruit is all expressed by one word—love."

— I believe there is a great deal more hope for a drunkard or a murderer or a gambler than there is for a lazy man. I never heard of a lazy man being converted yet, though I remember talking once with a minister in the back woods of Iowa about lazy men. He was all discouraged in his efforts to convert lazy men, and I said to him, "Did you ever know of a lazy man being converted?" "Yes," said he; "I knew of one, but he was so lazy that he didn't stay converted but about six weeks." And that is as near as I ever heard of a lazy man being converted.

— I remember, I was talking with a man one day and an acquaintance of his came in, and he jumped up at once and shook him by the hand—why I thought he was going to shake his hand out of joint, he shook so hard—and he seemed to be so glad to see him and wanted him to stay, but the man was in a great hurry and could not stay, and he coaxed and urged him to stay, but the man said no, he would come another time; and after that man went out my companion turned to me and said, "Well, he is an awful bore, and I am glad he's gone." Well I began to feel that I was a bore too, and I got out as quickly as I could. That is not real love.



WORD PICTURES.

The Prodigal Son.

The boy got his money, and away he went. He feels very independent; he can take care of himself; he can work his own way. I don't know where he went to. Perhaps he went away down to Memphis, and perhaps he went to Egypt—got as far away from home as he could. When he went away he soon commenced to go down to ruin. When he gets down to that part of the country he suddenly becomes very popular with a certain class of men. Perhaps he was very popular with the men who hung around the opera house, or the theatre, or the billiard halls. A great many courted his company. Perhaps he was a good talker, perhaps he was a good singer and could sing a comic song; perhaps he was a literary man, and entertained them with his wit, and all were delighted with him. But as we would say, he got to the end of his rope, and when his money went his friends disappeared: The poor fellow was in a blaze of glory while his money lasted, but when it had gone he woke up to find himself without friends. A man in New England said while his money lasted he had friends, but when he was ruined and in prison he found out who his real friends were. Not one of his old friends came near him, but the Christian people came and spoke to him words of kindness and comfort, and it was then he made the discovery who his true friends were. So this young prodigal didn't get his eyes open till his money was all gone. No one in that foreign country loved him then, no one in that land cared for him; but away off over those green hills there was one who loved him still. It was his father, and that father received him back.



The Cross and Crown.

At last He cried, with a loud voice: "It is finished!" Perhaps not many on earth heard it, or cared about it when they did hear it; but I can imagine there were not many in heaven who did not hear it, and if they have bells in heaven how they must have rung out that day; "It is finished! It is finished!" The Son of God had died that poor sinful man might have life eternal. I can imagine the angels walking through the streets of heaven crying: "It is finished!" and the mansions of that world ringing with the glad tidings: "It is finished!" It was the shout of victory. All you have got to do is to look and be saved. You have seen the waves of the sea come dashing up against a rocky shore. They come up and beat against the rock, and, breaking into pieces, go back to gather fresh strength, and again they come up and beat against the rock only to be again broken into pieces. And so it would seem as if the dark waves of hell had gathered all their strength together and had come beating up against the bosom of the Son of God; but he drives them all back again with that shout of a conqueror: "It is finished." And with that shout He snapped the fetters of sin, and broke the power of Satan.

While I was at a convention in Illinois an old man past 70 years, got up, and said he remembered but one thing about his father, and that one thing followed him all through life. He could not remember his death, he had no recollection of his funeral, but he recollected his father one winter night, taking a little chip, and with his pocket knife whittling out a little cross, and with the tears in his eyes he held up that cross telling how God in His infinite love sent His Son down here to redeem us, how He had died on the cross for us. The story of the cross followed him through life.



AFFECTING INCIDENT AT SEA.

Moody's Love and Prayer for 700 "Quaking Souls."

"I remember clearly lying in my berth early that Saturday morning (Nov. 26th, 1892, on the steamer Spree when she was one thousand miles out from Southampton on her way to New York), congratulating myself that I had gotten passage in so swift a ship, when my thoughts were stopped by a great crash that shook the vessel from stem to stern.

"My son, William Revell Moody, jumped from his berth and rushed on deck. He was back again in an instant, crying that the shaft was broken and the ship sinking. Then ensued a scene the like of which I hope never to witness again. There was no panic, but the passengers, who had scrambled on deck at the first warning, looked at each other in an appealing way that was, if anything, more terrible than demonstrative fear. The captain told us there was no danger, and some of the second cabin passengers returned to their berths only to tumble back pellmell a moment later. The rising water had driven them out. Some of them lost all their clothes and valuables.

"At this point the officers buckled on their revolvers, but there was no need to use them. The people, though terribly frightened, did not seem to realize what had happened. The women didn't scream, but stood around trembling and with blanched faces. Nobody said a word, but each waited for his neighbor to speak. We felt that we might be looking on our graves.

"The captain told us at noon that he thought he had the water under control and was in hopes of drifting in the way of some passing vessel. The ship's bow was now high in the air, while the stern seemed to settle more and more. There was no storm, but the sea, was very rough, and the ship rolled from side to side with fearful lurches. I think that if she had pitched at all the overstrained, bulkheads would have burst and we should have gone to the bottom. The captain cheered us by telling us that he thought we should run in with a ship by 3 o'clock that Saturday afternoon, but the night drew on and no sail appeared to lighten our gloom.

"We knew the ship was sinking when we came on deck, but there was no panic. The big engines of the ship were all working at the pumps, but the water was steadily gaining in spite of them. With each roll of the ship it could be heard like the roar of the surf. All the day was passed in anxiously watching for a sail. We could not talk of religion, for the first word brought forth a hundred exclamations, 'Are we sinking?' Then in that first night one woman went insane. It seemed an age until the Sabbath morning came, When the vigil on the deck was resumed.

"I think that was the darkest night in all our lives. None of us thought to live to see the light of another day. Nobody slept. We were all huddled in the saloon of the first cabin—Americans and Germans, Jews, Protestants, Catholics and skeptics—although at that time I doubt if there were many skeptics among us. For forty-eight hours we were in this mortal fear.

"Sabbath morning dawned upon as wretched a ship's company as ever sailed the sea. There was at that time no talk of religious services. I think that if this had been suggested then there would have been a panic. To talk of religion to those poor people would have been to suggest the most terrible things to them. Everybody was waiting for his neighbor to say: 'Are we, then, doomed to die?'

"But as night approached I gathered those 700 quaking souls together and we held a prayer meeting. I think everybody prayed. There were no skeptics present. I have been under fire in the war, I have stood by deathbeds during the cholera epidemic in Chicago, but I never was so sorely tried. I could with difficulty command my voice as I read the ninety-first Psalm. I read without comment, and then I prayed that God would still the anger of the deep and bring us safely to our desired heaven. The people were weeping all around me. I also read from the 107th Psalm.

"We tried to sing. I gave out the first verse of 'Jesus, Lover of My Soul,' and General Howard started the tune. He sang the hymn through in a strong voice, but very few joined him. Instead, the melody was punctuated by broken sobs and exclamation of grief. That night I went to bed and slept, I felt that everything would be all right.

"Never was a more earnest meeting held than this. All prayed together, and I did not hear much talk of skepticism, I can tell you. At 2:30 o'clock in the morning a ship's light was sighted, and in a few hours we were comparatively safe, although our danger was not over. The strain on our minds was almost as great, and minds gave way under it. Two women became violently insane and it was necessary to confine them. A young man from Vienna threw himself overboard and was drowned.

"When we were finally safe in port we had a thanksgiving service, and then such singing as there was—such praises that went up.

"We prayed that the ship be brought to a haven, and relief came on the night after our prayer meeting. I am a firm believer in prayer. I always have been. I believe and I know that God saved the Spree in response to our prayers."



PUBLISHED BY RHODES & McCLURE PUBLISHING CO., CHICAGO.

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ABRAHAM LINCOLN'S STORIES AND SPEECHES; in one volume, complete New (1897) edition, handsomely illustrated; containing the many witty, pointed and unequaled stories as told by Mr. Lincoln, including Early life stories, Professional life stories, White House and War stories; also presenting the full text of the popular Speeches of Mr. Lincoln on the great questions of the age, including his "First Political Speech," "Rail-Splitting Speech," "Great Debate with Douglas," and his Wonderful Speech at Gettysburg, etc., etc.; and including his two great Inaugurals, with many grand illustrations. An instructive and valuable book; 477 pages.



MOODY'S ANECDOTES; 210 pages exclusive of engravings. Containing several hundred interesting stories, told by the great evangelist, D. L. Moody, in his wonderful work in Europe and America. Hundreds of thousands of copies have been sold. Illustrated with excellent engravings of Messrs. Moody, Sankey, Whittle and Bliss, and thirty-two full-page engravings from Gustave Dore, making and artistic and handsome volume. "A book of anecdotes which have thrilled hundreds of thousands,"—Pittsburg Banner.



MOODY'S GOSPEL SERMONS. As delivered by the great Evangelist, Dwight Lyman Moody, in his revival work in Great Britain and America, Together with a biography of Mr. Moody and his co-laborer, Ira David Sanke. Including, also, a short history of the Great Revival. Each sermon is illustrated with a handsome, full page engraving from Gustave Dore. The book also contains an engraving of D. L. Moody, Ira D. Sankey, Mr. Moody preaching in the Royal Opera House, Haymarket, London, Chicago Tabernacle (erected for Mr. Moody's Services) and "I Am the Way." A handsome and attractive volume of 443 pages.



MOODY'S LATEST SERMONS. As delivered by the great Evangelist, Dwight Lyman Moody. Handsomely illustrated with twenty-four full-page engravings from Gustave Dore. 335 pages.



MOODY'S CHILD STORIES. As related by Dwight Lyman Moody in his revival work. Handsomely illustrated with sixteen full-page engravings from Gustave Dore and 106 illustrations from J. Stuart Littlejohn. A book adapted to children, but interesting to adults. A handsome volume. Should be in every family 237 pages.

THE END