is place and sell the duds and have a
good time. I'll help you. I'll be your friend." He's sly, but I put him
behind me that time.

It was easy enough for this man to talk about God giving me a chance,
but he didn't know me--a hard, wicked sinner, who if half the crimes I
had committed were known I'd be put in prison for life. Would God help
such a one? I knew I was clean and had a good suit of clothes on, but,
oh! how I wished God would give me another chance! But I felt as if He
had no use for me.

The man put his hand on my shoulder and said, "I want to be your friend;
will you let me?" I said I'd be proud of such a friend. "Now, Dave," he
said, "there's One better than I who will stick to you closer than a
brother; will you let Him be your friend?" I said I would, though I
doubted if He wanted any part of me, but I was going to make a try; and
the young man and myself knelt down in the Tabernacle, corner of Broome
Street and Centre Market Place, on the 16th of September, 1892, and I
asked God to have mercy on me, cut the drink out of my life, and make a
man of me, if such a thing could be done, for Christ's sake. I kept
praying that over and over again, the man still kneeling with me, when
all of a sudden I heard a voice say, "I will, Dave; only trust Me and
have faith." I heard those words just as sure as I am living, and
writing this book. None but a Christian can understand this voice;
others would say we are crazy who say such things; but it's true: only
have faith, and all things are yours. I've proved it!

A NEW MAN IN CHRIST JESUS

I rose from my knees a changed man. I can't explain it, but I felt as I
hadn't felt in years--lighter, happier, with a peace that was great in
my heart. I thought of mother and only wished she could see me then, but
she did all right.

"What will your friends say?" there was the old Devil saying. "Get out
of this place, and don't be a fool; be a man."

I stood there listening to the tempter, when the young fellow said,
"Dave, what are you going to do now that you have taken Jesus?"

I said, "I've knelt here and asked God for Christ's sake to make me a
sober man, and I fully believe that He will. Drink has brought me down,
and I'll die before I'll take another drink." And at this writing I'm
over seventeen years off the stuff.

I asked the young fellow what his name was, and found that he was
Alexander Irvine, lodging-house missionary to the Bowery under the New
York Cit