heard so much, and whom I had so much admired, was the little boy I had met in the gypsy camp. Truly God has granted my wish of fifteen years before, and has made a mighty preacher of the gypsy boy.

During our meetings in Her Majesty's Theater at Pall Mall a Mr. Studd, who had a great many fast horses and fox-hounds, gave them all up and became a follower of Christ. Mr. Studd's son was attending Eton College, at Windsor, near the Queen's castle. He and Mr. Graham, of Glasgow, a member of Parliament, invited us to go to Windsor and hold meetings for the young Lords in the college. When it was rumored that we would accept the invitation, the subject was taken up and discussed in Parliament.

Although we were accustomed to devote Saturdays to rest, we decided to give one Saturday to Eton College. When we arrived at Windsor Station we were met by Mr. Studd and Mr. Graham, and taken to the home of a merchant. As there was so much excitement in the town because of our coming, it was decided that it would be best to hold the meetings in this gentleman's garden. Mr. Graham gathered about fifty of the students under a large apple tree in the garden. There Mr. Moody gave a short address on John 3: 16, and I sang a number of solos, including "Pass me not, O gentle Saviour." We also distrib

uted copies of "Sacred Songs and Solos" among the students, who took an enthusiastic part in the singing. Mr. Studd's son, who afterward became known as one of the chief cricketers of England, was converted at this meeting.

On one of our subsequent visits to Great Britain this young man got up a large petition, inviting us to Cambridge. The invitation to Cambridge we gladly accepted, and arrived there on Guy Fawkes night. When we entered the Corn Exchange, which was the largest meeting room in town, we found it filled with students. It was the largest religious meeting that had ever been held in Cambridge. On reaching the platform we found Mr. George E. Morgan, of “The Christian," London, who was then a Cambridge student, conducting the singing. Mr. Moody asked one of the Dons to lead in prayer, after which he called upon me to sing "The Ninety and Nine." The students listened to the first verse in perfect silence, but at its conclusion they vigorously beat the floor with canes and umbrellas, and cried, "Hear, hear!" This demonstration followed each verse to the end. Mr. Moody's address for half an hour held the undivided attention of his congregation. At the conclusion some of the students attempted to stampede the meeting, but a large majority remained and gathered around us, saying: "These men must have fair play

while they are in Cambridge." Thus began a great revival in that town. Hundreds of young men dated their conversion from that time.

The news of the religious work at Cambridge naturally spread to Oxford, and we were invited to hold meetings there. We had hoped that the success of our meetings at Cambridge would make the way easier at Oxford. But a similar process had to be gone through there. We stopped at the Bull's Head Hotel, and held meetings for two weeks in a large hall connected with that building, and eventually a large number of students took their stand on the Lord's side.

One day as I was making some purchases in a bookstore in London, a sailor came rushing in, saying: "Give me a dozen little Sankey's, quick!" The hymn book" Sacred Songs and Solos" was usually called "Sankey's."

While holding meetings at Campbeltown, on a subsequent visit to Scotland, a drunken man staggered into the meeting one evening, while Mr. Moody was preaching. He had not been seated long before he arose and said: "Mr. Moody, will you please stop a bit, I want to hear Mr. Sankey sing 'The Ninety and Nine.' Moody, with his marvelous tact, said: All right; sit down, my friend, I will ask Mr. Sankey to sing for you." Those sitting near him said

he was visibly affected by the song. Later on when the invitation was given to retire to the inquiry room the man sitting next to this drunkard brought him in. I sat down beside him and talked and prayed with him. He said he was the black, as well as the lost sheep of his family, and that he wanted to sign a pledge to stop drinking. We did not use the pledge in those days, but to please this man we hunted up a copy, under which he signed his name, John McNeil. He declared his intention to give up drink forever. For many evenings he came to our services, and always went into the inquiry meetings. He told me that to get away from temptation he used to take his mother's Bible and his lunch, and for many days go into the hills in the country. I corresponded with him for over a year. He was said to have been one of the most wicked men of his town, and had given the police more trouble than any other man there, but he became a humble follower of Christ.

On the 3d of August, 1875, a great farewell meeting was held for us in Liverpool. Several addresses were made, one of some length by Mr. Moody. As we took our departure on the "Spain" we left with the most enthusiastic applause and evidences of good will, the great crowd on the shore singing several of our hymns as the vessel moved out of sight.

After our return to America, the first meeting

held was at Northfield, on the 9th of September, 1875. There, among many others, Mr. Moody's mother, who was a Unitarian, stood up for prayer. At this meeting I first sang The Ninety and Nine" in this

country.

One day while crossing the Connecticut River on a ferry, which was pulled across by a line stretched over the river, Mr. Bliss and I were singing, "Pull for the shore, sailor, pull for the shore," when we noticed that the boat pulled unusually heavy, and on investigating, found that Mr. Moody, who was sitting in the rear, was pulling back on the line with all his might, so as to delay the trip, and give him a chance to listen to the singing. This illustrates Mr. Moody's fondness for singing. Although himself not a singer, he used the service of praise more extensively and successfully than any other man in the nineteenth century.

Brooklyn was our next place to visit. Although the first meeting, held in Clermont Avenue Rink, Oc-, tober 24, was at half past eight in the morning, the hall, which had chairs for five thousand persons, was packed full, and thousands were turned away for want of room. I was assisted in the singing here by a choir of two hundred and fifty voices. My first solo was, "Rejoice and be glad! the Redeemer has come!" At the second meeting, in the afternoon, fifteen thousand