uick and delighted ejaculation, "That's so!" "That's
it!" as he recognised the incidents, I fancied it was not without
difficulty some of the people, bending forward, listening with
glistening eye and heightened colour, refrained from clapping their
hands for glee that the faithful Daniel, the unyielding servant of
God, had triumphed over tribulation, and had walked out of prison
to take his place on the right hand of the king.

There was not much exhortation throughout the discourse, not the
slightest reference to any disputed point of doctrine. It was nothing
more than a re-telling of the story of Daniel. But whilst
Nebuchadnezzar, Daniel, Shadrach, Meshach, Abednego, Darius, and even
the hundred and twenty princes, became for the congregation living and
moving beings, all the ends of the narrative were, with probably
unconscious, certainly unbetrayed, art, gathered together to lead up to
the one lesson--that compromise, where truth and religion are concerned,
is never worthy of those who profess to believe God's word.

"I am sick of the shams of the present day," said Mr. Moody, bringing
his discourse to a sudden close. "I am tired of the way men parley
with the world whilst they are holding out their hands to be lifted
into heaven. If we're gwine to be good Christians and God's people let
us be so out-and-out."

"BENDIGO."

Bendigo, the erewhile famous champion of England, I one evening found in
the pulpit at the London Cabman's Mission Hall. After quitting the ring,
Bendigo took to politics; that is to say, he, for a consideration,
directed at Parliamentary elections the proceedings of the "lambs" in
his native town of Nottingham. Now he had given up even that
worldliness, and had taken to preaching. His fame had brought together a
large congregation. The Hall was crowded to overflowing, and the
proceedings were, as one of the speakers described it, conducted "by
shifts," the leaders, including Bendigo, going downstairs to address the
crowd collected in the lower room after having spoken to the
congregation in the regular meeting hall.

The service was opened with prayer by Mr. John Dupee, superintendent of
the Mission, after which the congregation vigorously joined in the
singing of a hymn. A second hymn followed upon the reading of a psalm;
and Mr. Dupee proceeded to say a few words about "our dear and saved
brother, Bendigo." With a frankness that in no wise disconcerted the
veteran prizefighter, Mr. Dup