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there is one worthy; the Lion of the tribe of Judah has prevailed, and he is worthy." And when John turned round to ook at the Lion it was a slain Lamb. God's Lion is a Lamb slain. It was the weakness of God that overcame the strength of man. Then, in order to success there must be union among Christians. There were three classes of people that ought to sympathize with this movement. Every minister who wanted to crown Christ King ought to be interested in the work; every Sabbath-school superintendent and teacher, every missionary and colporteur ought, at least, to pray for it, and every father and mother ought to join in it. When he was in Liverpool the other day a woman came to him with a photograph of a beautiful boy, who, she said, would now be nineteen years old. She said he had had trouble, and had fled from his home. She did not know what had become of him, and she asked him, if he saw him in London, to try and win him to the Lord, that he might come back to cheer her heart. There were many such boys in London, and he hoped God would bring them to Christ, so that they might go back to be a blessing to their parents and to the Church at large. To all such he would say,

" Your mother still loves you, and wants you to return. Her heart is breaking for you. God wants you; Jesus wants you. There is room in heaven for you.” If there was unity among God's people in this work, no power earthly or infernal could stand against it. When the Church, the pulpit, and the pew were all of one mind, Christianity would be like a red-hot ball rolling over the earth, and all the hosts of death and hell would not be able to resist it. this,” said Christ, “ shall men know that ye are my disciples, if ye love one another.” When General Grant was in front of Richmond, and his army had been repulsed in the Wilderness, he called his commanders together, and asked them what they thought he had better do. They advised him to retreat, but before morning an orderly was sent round, directing an advance in solid column on the enemy at daylight. That was what took Richroond, and broke down the rebellion. The Christians of London, too, must lift bigli the standard, and, in the name of their God, advance in solid columu on the enemy before daylight. Let them work together, shoulder to shoulder, with a single eye to the honour and glory of Christ; let them pray that they might get self out of the way, and that Christ might be all and in all, and then they would have success.

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Let their watchword be, “ Here am I, send me," and the result was certain. At the conclusion of the address Mr. Sankey led the congregation in the hymn, “ Hold the Fort!” and the proceedings were terminated by the benediction, pronounced by the Rev. Dr. Allon, of Union Chapel, Islington.

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The first Sunday services conducted by Messrs. Moody and Sankey at the Agricultural Hall were three in number.

It will complete our account of the opening of this remarkable series of meetings in London if we add a report of the interesting proceedings of the day. The Daily News account is so fair in spirit, and so well written, that we freely avail ourselves of its assistance :

“ The first service, at eight o'clock in the morning, was for Chris. tian worshippers, the second at three o'clock for women only, and the third at seven o'clock in the evening for men. The arca, at the early service, which largely partook of the character of a prayer meeting was covered, but there were many vacant seats in the gallery. In the afternoon the hall, though not crowded in the remoter galleries, was fairly filled, and the sunsbine streaming in from the ample glass of the roof and western end upon the well dressed concourse of women, whose coloured garments it lighted up, rendered the spectacle a remarkably pleasing one. Numbers of gentlemen, many of them evidently from distant parts of London, sought admittance, unaware that any restriction was put upon sex; but the doorkeepers, who perform their onerous duties with as much firmness as ability, were under the necessity of refusing them entrance, although there was room within for two or three thousand more than were present. A few ministers, and the male choristers upon the platform, and the ushers charged with the duty of showing the people to their seats, were accordingly the only exception to the rule confining the congregation to the female sex. Amongst the twelve or thirteen Thousand persons present not one could be seen who, from external appearances, could have been suspected of being in indigent circumstances ; outside, at each entrance, there was quite a string of carriages, ard the majority of the ladies in the body of the hall, if not fashionably attired, boro all the appearances of belonging to the well-to-do classes of society. The galleries, as the service progressed, began to fill with young girls, probably Sunday school teachers and scholars, who had hurried from their classes to attend the service.

“ Mr. Moody was in his usual place on the elevated dais, with Mr. Sankey and his cabinet organ on the left, flanked by the choristers who render such valuable services at all the meetings. The service was opened by what would seem to be one of Messrs. Moody and Sankey's favourite hymns, “The Great Physician now is near.' It is a hymn of seven verses, with a prettily attuned refrain


*Sweetest note in seraph song,
Sweetest name on mortal tongue,
Sweetest carol ever sung,

Jesus, blessed Jesus.'

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With so many thousand female voices joining in this chorus, most of the worshippers having the music as well as the words before them, it is scarcely necessary to say there was produced an exceedingly fine specimen of good congregational psalmody. A clergymen on the platform offered a brief prayer, after which Mr. Moody stepped forward to read the lesson, the 51st Psalm. Till then there had been a good deal of half-suppressed coughing, as no doubt there was in every part of the country visited by the east winds; and before commencing Mr. Moody suggested that the ladies had better, in their own interest and that of the congregation generally, cover their mouths with their handkerchiefs when they felt the infliction coming on. As is bis wont, Mr. Moody's comments were more lengthy than his reading. The point he chiefly insisted upon was that the Psalmist was not asking for mercy for his neighbour, or his neighbour's friend, but for himself. • Me' was the key-note. 'I find sometimes,' Mr. Moody observed, “people at my meetings who are listening, not for themselves, but for other people; there they are looking round to see how what is said strikes somebody else; it never con home to them, but I'll tell

you what it is; it is a good thing sometimes to get right down to ourselves.' Later on he said : You see David asks that his sids may be hidden. Don't you notice that, now? Well, if God hides our sins, the devil can't find 'em ; if I hide 'em, never mind how deep I fancy I bury 'em, they'll sure to have a resurrection. Your sin 'll



you out; make no mistake about that.' After the Psalm Mr. Sankey sang his solo

• There were ninety and nine that safely lay

In the shelter of the fold.'


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This hymn, it may be remembered, was the one he selected for his first production at the Exeter Hall noon-day prayer meetings, and yesterday, after striking a few notes of the symphony, he paused, and told the congregation why he introduced it into his collection. When about to visit the Highlands he felt the need of a new hymn that would be likely to reach those Highland people, and was delighted by accident to see the composition he was about to sing in the columns of a weekly newspaper. He at once adopted it, and three days after he first sany it in public a lady sent to tell him that it was written by a sister who had died. Mr. Sankey often prefaces his solos with a sentence or two of spoken words, and this was probably his longest speech. There having been a little confusion under the galleries, caused by late arrivals, Mr. Moody now requested the congregation to sing another hymn with a chorus to afford the ushers an opportunity of closing all the doors. Then, asking for thirty minutes of attention and prayer for a searching time,' he announced as his text the question put to Adam in the Garden of Eden — Where art thou?' Upon this he based a succession of earnest personal appeals, dividing his hearers into three classes—first, professing Christians ; second, back. sliders ; third, those who know not Jesus.' In the anecdotal portions of his discourse Mr. Moody may be said to have surpassed himself, bis anecdotes being unusually numerous, and most effectively told. They were just such stories as would touch the tenderest feelings, relating as they did chiefly to family bereavements and parental anxieties. He had, he said, expected a young lady upon the platform at that time, but her father had just told him she died on Wednesday morning. Upon this he asked such of his hearers as were mothers whether they had sufficiently cared for their daughters as to feel happy in case the call came, Where art thou ?' In two longer anecdotes the secret of Mr. Moody's power was very apparent: it is the faculty, by a rapid succession of rude touches, of producing a vivid picture of the subject he wishes to convey

Incidents apparently trivial are told, but they are all necessary to a complete covering of the canvas. He narrated the bistory of a lad who, sent by his father to sell a load of grain in Chicago, fell into the bands of gamblers, who cheated him out of both team and produce, so that the youth, in his shame, fled to the Pacific coast. The lad's father arranged his affairs at home, set out in pursuit, and at last found bim. The facts composing this history were poured out with almost breathless rapidity by the preacher, but there must have been few in the ball who were not for the moment actually following the man from place to place, hearing him preach in the towns at which he halted (the man was preacher as well as farmer), and at the conclusion of each sermon describing the prodigal whom he sought. There was quite a sigh of relief amongst the ladies when the result was thus announced: “So at last that father was in San Francisco, and 'way there under the gallery there was that boy he had been looking for so long. He saw him, ran up to bim, and wouldn't let him say a word about that money. Not he; he jest took him in his arms, and asked him to come back to the love of home. I'll tell you what, backslider,' continued Mr. Moody, suddenly pointing down into the crowd, and raising his voice to a high pitch, the Lord's ben looking for you much longer than that father looked for his boy. Ab, and He'll welcome you back with jest as much, and more, love and tenderness.'

Another story given with equally graphic power, was touching the dream of a father who in his sleep saw in a beautiful land beyond a river his lost child beckoning him across with the encouragement, • This way, father ; this way. There were many wearers of mourning in the hall, and the recital of the anecdote caused many white bandkerchie's to be listed under black veils. Concluding his sermon after this illustration abruptly, Mr. Moody called for a moment or two of silent prayer. Presently, while all heads were bowed, the faint notes of the organ, scarce louder than the silence, were heard, and before une could decide for certain whether it was actual music or not, Mr. Sankey, in the softest pianissimo, was singing:

• Come home, come home,

You are weary at heart,
For the way has been dark,

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