d listen, and to see the tears trickling down their cheeks when
the Saviour was preached. It seemed as if nobody else in that meeting
drank in the truth as eagerly as those little ones.

One-night when an invitation had been extended to all to go into the
inquiry room, one of these little children said: "Mamma, why can't I go
in too?" The mother allowed them to come into the room, and some friend
spoke to them, and to all appearances they seemed to understand the plan
of salvation as well as their elders. When that memorable night came
that mother went down and came up without her two children. Upon reading
the news I said: "It will kill her," and I quitted my post in
Edinburgh--the only time I left my post on the other side--and went down
to Liverpool to try and comfort her. But when I got there I found that
the Son of God had been there before me, and instead of me comforting
her, she comforted me. She told me she could not think of those children
as being in the sea; it seemed as if Christ had permitted her to take
those children on that vessel only that they might be wafted to Him, and
had saved her life only that she might come back and work a little
longer for Him. When she got up the other day at a mothers' meeting in
Farwell Hall, and told her story, I thought I would tell the mothers of
it the first chance I got.

So if any of you have had some great affliction, if any of you have lost
a loving father, mother, brother, husband, or wife, come to Christ,
because God has sent Him to heal the broken-hearted.

"Father, Father, Come This Way."

I remember a number of years ago I went out of Chicago to try to preach.
I went down to a little town where was being held a Sunday-school
convention. I was a perfect stranger in the place, and when I arrived a
man stepped up to me and asked me if my name was Moody. I told him it
was, and he invited me to his house. When I got there he said he had to
go to the convention, and asked me to excuse his wife, as she, not
having a servant, had to attend to her household duties. He put me into
the parlor, and told me to amuse myself as best I could till he came
back. I sat there, but the room was dark and I could not read, and I got
tired. So I thought I would try and get the children and play with them.
I listened for some sound of childhood in the house, but could not hear
a single evidence of the presence of little ones. When my friend came
back I said: "Haven't you any chi