e's families?

Lecturing for philanthropies, only another word for the means to help
along the Kingdom of God on earth, is in England usually carried on
through the ordinary missionary meetings; and in my previous
experience they were not generally much credit to the splendid objects
in view. The lectures were often patronized by small audiences largely
composed of women and children.

That particular winter in England I had the privilege of addressing
all sorts of workmen's clubs and city lecture-course audiences, people
who would have "the shivers" almost if one had asked them to attend a
"missionary" lecture. The collection, or even the final monetary
outcome, is far from being the test of the value of the address. To
commend Christ's religion by minimizing in any way the prerogative He
gave men of carrying on the work of His kingdom in their human efforts
is to sap the very appeal that attracts manhood to Him. I never wanted
to sing, "Oh! to be nothing, nothing." I always wished to sing, "Oh!
make me something, something"--that shall leave some footprints on the
sands of time, and have some record of talents gained to offer a
Master whom we believe to be righteous.

When spring came and the lectures were over, a new idea suddenly
dawned upon me. If I were going to America to festive gatherings and
to have some honours conferred, why leave the mother behind?
Seventy-eight years is not old. She was born in India, had lived in
England, and suppose anything did happen, why not sleep in
America?--she would be just as near God there. The splendid Mauretania
not only took us safely over, but gave me also that gift which I
firmly believe God designed for me--a real partner to share in my joys
and sorrows, to encourage and support in trouble and failures, to
inspire and advise in a thousand ways, and in addition to bring into
my distant field of work a personal comrade with the culture, wisdom,
and enthusiasm of the American life and the training of one of the
very best of its Universities.

We met on board the second day out. She was travelling with a Scotch
banker of Chicago and his wife, Mr. W.R. Stirling, whose daughter was
her best friend. They were returning from a motor tour through Europe
and Algeria. The Mauretania takes only four and a half days in
crossing, and never before did I realize the drawbacks of "hustle,"
and yet the extreme need of it on my part. The degrees of longitude
slipped by so quickly that I