at the door told him he couldn't come in, as it was a woman's meeting. He turned from it and strolled on; came back to his hotel and had dinner. At night he walked up the street until he reached the Hippodrome again, and this time he saw a lot of men going in. When inside, he listened to the singing, and heard the text, "Where art thou ?" and he thought he would go out. He rose to go, and the text came upon his ears again, "Where art thou ?" This was too personal, he thought; it was disagreeable, and he made for the door, but as he got to the third row from the entrance, the words came to him again, "Where art thou?" He stood still, for the question had come to him with irresistible force, and God had found him right there. He went to his hotel and prayed all that night, and now he is a bright and shining light. And this young man, who was a commercial traveller, went back to the village in which he had been reared, and in which he had been one of the fastest young men -went back there, and went around among his friends and acquaintances and testified for Christ, as earnestly and beneficially for Him as his conduct had been against Him. I hope the text will find out some young man here who has strayed away from God, and come upon him with such force personally as will turn him from his present course to take the offers of salvation. Won't you believe we are here for you, won't you believe we are preaching for you, won't you believe that this enterprise has been carried out for you, and that this assembly has been drawn together for you, and may you ask your heart solemnly and candidly this question, "Where art

thou ?"

I am going to divide this audience into three classes. Don't let this startle you, I am not going to make three divisions among you. The first class is the class who profess to be Christians. I don't know who you are, or whether you are sincere. It rests between you and God. The other class are the backslidersthose who have been good children, but who have turned their backs upon Him, and have gone into the regions of sin. And the other class is that one that has never been saved, who have never been born of the Spirit, who have never sought to reach Christ.

And now, my friends, as to you who profess to be Christians. We who profess to be Christians, are we living up to what we preach? God forgive me, I feel I am not doing as much as I should for Him. I don't except myself. You who profess to be Christians, this question is personal to you: "Where art thou ?" Do you believe what you are preaching; do you live the life you ought to be living as professed Christians? If you were doing this tens of thousands of people would be converted in Chicago

within thirty days. By your neglect to practice what you preach, men have got sick of you, the world has become tired of you. They say if we really feel what we talk about and profess we would be more earnest about their salvation. And I say they are right. If Christians felt as they should, every church in Chicago, every church in the Northwest, would be on fire for the salvation of souls. They are lukewarm. Is the church to-day in its right position; is it true to its teachings; are we not mingling with the world in our professed Christian lives, so that the world has become tired of our shamming professions? If the world does not see us act according to our professions they say Christianity is not real. Why, a young man some time ago, a professed Christian, spoke to another young man upon the subject, and the Christian was answered with the words: "I don't believe a word of your Christianity; I don't believe a word of what you talk about; I don't believe your Bible." "You don't mean that?" asked the Christian. "Yes I do," said the young man, "It's all a sham; you are all hypocrites." The Christian said to him, knowing he had a mother who was a professed Christian, “you don't mean to say that your mother is a hypocrite ?" "Well, no," said the young fellow, not willing to admit his mother was one, "she is not exactly a hypocrite, but she don't believe what she professes. If she did she would have talked to me about my soul long ago." That young man, my friend, had the best of it. And this is the condition of nine-tenths of us--we don't practice what we profess to believe. We have not really taken the cross of Christ, we have not put off the old man and taken on the new; we are not living truly in Christ Jesus, and the world is sick of us, and goes stumbling over us. If we don't practice in every particular the professions we make, and try to influence the lives of others, and lead the lives of Christians according to Christian precept, the world will go on stumbling over us. A few years ago, in a town somewhere in this State, a merchant died, and while he was lying a corpse I was told a story I will never forget. When the physician that attended him saw that there was no chance for him here, he thought it would be time to talk about Christ to the dying man. And there are a great many Christians just like this physician. They wait till a man is just entering the other world, just till he is about nearing the throne, till the sands of life are about run out, till the death rattle is in his throat, before they commence to speak of Christ. The physician stepped up to the dying merchant and began to speak of Jesus, the beauties of Christianity, and the salvation He had offered to all the world. The merchant listened quietly to him, and then asked him, "How long have you known of these things ?" "I have been a Christian since

I came from the East," he replied. "You have been a Christian so long and have known all this, and have been in my store every day. You have been in my home; have associated with me; you knew all these things, and why didn't you tell me before?" The doctor went home and retired to rest, but could not sleep. The question of the dying man rang in his ears. He could not explain why he had not spoken before, but he saw he had neglected his duty to his principles. He went back to his dying friend, intending to urge upon him acceptance of Christ's salvation, but when he began to speak to him the merchant only replied in a sad whisper, "Oh, why didn't you tell me before?" Oh, my friends, how many of us act like this physician. You must go to your neighbor and tell him who does not know Christ, of what He has done for us. If you do not tell the glad tidings they are listening to the promptings of the devil, and we make people believe that Christianity is hypocrisy, and that Christ is not the Saviour of the world. If we believe it shall we not publish it, and speak out the glorious truth to all for Christ -that He is the Redeemer of the world. Some time ago I read a little account that went through the press, and it burned into my soul. A father took his little child into the fields one day. He lay down while the child was amusing itself picking up little blades of grass and flowers. While the child was thus engaged the father fell asleep, and when he awoke the first thought that occurred to him was, "Where is my child?" He looked around everywhere, but nowhere could he see the child. He looked all around the fields, over the mountains, but could not see her, and finally he came to a precipice and looked down among the stones and rocks, and there he saw his little child lying down at the bottom, and ran down, took the child up, and kissed it tenderly, but it was dead. He was filled with remorse, and accused himself of being the murderer of his child. And this story applies to Christians in their watchful care of their fellow

creatures.

It was not long ago that I heard of a mother making all sorts of fun and jeering at our preaching; not in Chicago, but in another town. She was laughing and scoffing at the meetings, she was scorning the preachers; and yet she had a drunken son. It might have been if she had helped to support the meetings, the meetings would have been the means of saving that son from a drunkard's grave; and mothers and fathers here to-day, you have the responsibility upon you of turning the faces of your children toward Zion. Ah, my friends, it is a solemn question to you to-day, and may you ask yourself where you are in the sight of God. The next class I want to speak to for a few moments, for I cannot help believing that in this assembly there

must be a number of backsliders who have gone away from the wayside. You have probably come from an Eastern town to this one, and you have come to some church with a letter-to some Presbyterian, or Methodist, or Episcopalian church. And when you came to that church you did not find the love you expected, you didn't find the cordiality you looked for, and you did not go near it again. So you kept the letter in your pocket for weeks, for years; might have been thrown in your trunk, might have been burned up in the Chicago fire; and you have forgot all about your church life, and the letter has disappeared. You lead an ungodly life, but you are not happy. I have travelled about a good deal in the last five years, and I never knew a man who had turned away from religion to be a happy man. That man's conscience is always troubling him. He may come

If

to Chicago and become prosperous and wealthy, but his wealth and position in the world cannot fill his heart. If there is a poor backslider in this building to-day let him come back. Hear the voice that calls you to come back. There is nothing you have done which God is not ready and able to forgive. there is a poor wanderer on the mountains of sin turn right round and face Him. He will hear your transgressions, and forgive your backsliding, and take you to His loving bosom, and this will be a happy night to you. Look at the home of the backslider. No prayers, no family altar there. As in the days of Elijah they have put up the image of Baal in the place of their God. They have no peace; their conscience troubles them; they know they are not bringing their family up as they should. Is not that the condition of a good many here to-day? Oh, backslider, you know what your life is, but what will be your eternity if you fight against the Lord, who is only waiting to do you good?

I heard of a young man who came to Chicago to sell his father's grain. His father was a minister somewhere down here. The boy arrived in Chicago and sold the grain; and when the time came for him to return home the boy did not come. The father and mother were up all night expecting to hear the sound of the wagon every minute, but they waited and waited, but still he did not come. The father became so uneasy that he went into the stable and saddled his horse and came to Chicago. When he reached here he found that his son had sold the grain, but had not been seen since the sale, and concluded that he was murdered. After making investigation, however, he found that the boy had gone into a gambling house and lost all his money. After they had taken all his money from him, they told him to sell his horse and wagon, and he would recover his money, which he did. He was like the poor man who came down from

Jericho to Jerusalem, and who fell among thieves, and after they had stripped him of everything cast him off. And a great many of you think as this young man thought. You think that rumsellers and gamblers are your best friends, when they will take from you your peace, your health, your soul, your money-everything you have, and then run away. Well, the father, after looking about for him fruitlessly, went home and told his wife what he had learned. But he did not settle down, but just took his carpet-bag in his hand and went from one place to another, getting ministers to let him preach for them, and he always told the congregation that he had a boy dearer to him than life, and left his address with them, and urged them if ever they heard anything about his boy to let him know. At last, after going around a good deal, he got on his track and learned that he had gone to California. He went home, but did not write a letter to him. No; he just arranged his business affairs and started for the Pacific coast to find his boy. This is but an illustration of what God has been doing for you. There has not been a day, an hour, a moment, but God has been searching for you. When the father got to San Francisco he got permission to preach, and he had a notice put in the papers in the hope that it might reach the mining districts, trusting that if his son were there it might reach him. He preached a sermon on the Sunday, and when he pronounced the benediction the audience went away. But he saw in a corner one who remained. He went up to him and found that it was his boy. He did not reprimand him, he did not deliver judgment upon him, but put his loving arms around him, drew him to his bosom, and took him back to his home. This is an illustration of what God wants to do to us, what He wants to do to-day. He offers us His love, and His forgiveness.

There is one peculiarity about a backslider, you must get back to Him as you went away. It is you who have gone away by turning, by leaving Him, not He by leaving you. And the way to get back to Him is to turn your face toward Him, and He will receive you with joy and forgiveness. There will be joy in your heart and there will be joy in heaven this afternoon if you return to Him. If you treated God as a personal friend there would not be a backslider. A rule I have had for years is to treat the Lord Jesus Christ as a personal friend. His is not a creed, a mere empty doctrine, but it is He himself we have. The moment we have received Christ we should receive Him as a friend. When I go away from home I bid my wife and children good-by, I bid my friends and acquaintances goodby, but I never heard of a poor backslider going down on his knees and saying: "I have been near You for ten years; Your