or that I
thought all the broken hearts were to be found among them, but within
the last few years I have found there are as many broken hearts among
the learned as the unlearned, the cultured as the uncultured, the rich
as the poor. If you could but go up one of our avenues and down another
and reach the hearts of the people; and get them to tell their whole
story, you would be astonished at the wonderful history of every family.
I remember a few years ago I had been out of the city for some weeks.
When I returned I started out to make some calls. The first place I went
to I found a mother; her eyes were red with weeping. I tried to find out
what was troubling her, and she reluctantly opened her heart and told me
all. She said: "Last night my only boy came home about midnight, drunk.
I didn't know that he was addicted to drunkenness, but this morning I
found out that he had been drinking for weeks, and," she continued, "I
would rather have seen him laid in the grave than have have had him
brought home in the condition I saw him in last night." I tried to
comfort her as best I could when she told me her sad story. When I went
away from that house I didn't want to go into any other house where
there was family trouble. The very next house I went to, however, where
some of the children who attended my Sunday school resided, I found that
death had been there and laid his hand on one of them. The mother spoke
to me of her afflictions, and brought to me the playthings and the
little shoes of the child, and the tears trickled down that mother's
cheeks as she related to me her sorrow. I got out as soon as possible,
and hoped I would see no more family trouble that day.

The next visit I made was to a home where I found a wife with a bitter
story. Her husband had been neglecting her for a long time; "and now,"
she said, "he has left me, and I don't know where he has gone. Winter is
coming on, and I don't know what is going to become of my family." I
tried to comfort her, and prayed with her, and endeavored to get her to
lay all her sorrows on Christ. The next home I entered I found a woman
crushed and broken-hearted. She told me her boy had forsaken her, and
she had no idea where he had gone. That afternoon I made five calls, and
in every home I found a broken heart. Everyone had a sad tale to tell,
and if you visited every house in Chicago you would find the truth in
the saying that "there is a skeleton in every house." I suppo