ead these words: "We have fought a terrible battle. I have been wounded
so awfully that I shall never be able to support you. A friend writes
this for me. I love you more tenderly than ever, but I release you from
your promise. I will not ask you to join your life with the maimed life
of mine:" That letter was never answered. The next train that left, the
young lady was on it. She went to the hospital. She found out the number
of his cot, and she went down the aisle, between the long rows of the
wounded men. At last she saw the number, and, hurrying to his side, she
threw her arms around his neck and said: "I'll not desert you. I'll take
care of you." He did not resist her love. They were married, and there
is no happier couple than this one. We are dependent on one another.
Christ says, "I'll take care of you. I'll take you to this bosom of
mine." That young man could have spurned her love; he could, but he
didn't. Surely you can be saved if you will accept the Saviour's love.
If God loves us, my friends, He loves us unto the end. "For God so loved
the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth
in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life."

How a Young Irishman Opened Moody's Eyes.

I want to tell you how I got my eyes open to the truth that God loves
the sinner. When I went over to Europe I was preaching in Dublin, when a
young fellow came up to the platform and said to me that he wanted to
come to America and preach. He had a boyish appearance; did not seem to
be over seventeen years old. I measured him all over, and he repeated
his request, and asked me when I was going back. I told him I didn't
know; probably I should not have told him if I had known. I thought he
was too young and inexperienced to be able to preach. In course of time
I sailed for America, and hadn't been here long before I got a letter
from him, dated New York, saying that he had arrived there. I wrote him
a note and thought I would hear no more about him, but soon I got
another letter from him, saying that he was coming soon to Chicago, and
would like to preach. I sent him another letter, telling him if he came
to call upon me, and closed with a few common-place remarks. I thought
that would settle him, and I would hear no more from him. But in a very
few days after he made his appearance. I didn't know what to do with
him. I was just going off to Iowa, and I went to a friend and said: "I
have got a young Iris