let me
have. The man took my note and never did ask for any security.

"At another time, being away from home some 2,000 miles, was at the
house of an uncle; same evening I received a letter from my wife that
the children were very sick and but little hope of recovery. The letter
had been written for over a week. I communicated the contents of the
letter to my aunt; went up in my room and prayed the Lord to be their
physician. I felt so sure that my prayer would be answered that I could
not help singing; when they heard me they thought what a cold-hearted
man I must be to sing if the children were dying at home. _But from,
that day the children did get better, and in a short time were out of
danger_.

"In my younger years I had a good many ifs, but those are all gone; I
know that the Lord has the means at his command to answer all my prayers
if I come believing, asking in the name of Christ."

THE HORSE IS HIS.

"The writer was preaching Sundays at a little country church, about 70
miles by rail from the institution where he attended. He went Saturday,
returning on Monday. One Saturday the train ran off the track. All day
long they worked at the wreck. At last, finding it too late to make
connection with the other railroad, he took the down train back to the
institution. What should be done? A promise to preach forty miles across
the country had been made. There was also an appointment six miles
beyond for an afternoon service. It was now night. To drive across the
country was the only way open, or stay at home. Two disappointed
congregations the result in the latter case. But the roads were heavy
from recent rains. 'Twill be so late that none can direct. Friends said,
'Stay; you can't go forty miles across, to you, an unknown country.' But
the writer felt it duty to go. Hiring a horse noted for endurance, at
nine o'clock at night--dark, threatening--he set out. As he headed the
horse in the direction of the village--for he could find none who could
tell him the exact road--he prayed: 'O God, starting out to preach thy
word to-morrow, direct the way--guide this horse.' The night wore on; as
cross-roads came, dropping the lines over the dashboard, the same prayer
was offered. When the horse chose a road, the driver urged him on. As
day began to break, emerging from some wood in an unfrequented road,
they entered the village they sought. The sermon that morning was from
the text, 'Son, go work to-day in my vineyar