s to God before precious
old mother leaves. If you will come with me, I will gather all the
family together next Friday for that purpose.' I consented to go. The
old home was a short distance from the city of Nashville. There were a
large number of brothers and sisters. One was a farmer; one was a
doctor; one was a real estate man; one was a bookkeeper; one was a
preacher; and so on, so that they represented many professions of life.
The preacher brother took me out to the old home, where all the
children had gathered. As we drove up to the gate I saw the brothers
standing in little groups about the yard, whittling and talking. Did
you never stand in the yard of the old home after an absence of many
years, and entertain memories brought up by every beaten path and tree
and gate and building about the old place? I was introduced to these
noble-looking men who, as the preacher brother told me, were all
members of churches, living consistent Christian lives, save the
younger boy, who had wandered away a little, and the real object of
this visit was to bring him back to God.

"The old mother was indescribably happy. There was a smile lingering
in the wrinkles of her dear old face. We all gathered in the large,
old-fashioned family room in the old-fashioned semicircle, with mother
in her natural place in the corner. The preacher brother laid the
large family Bible in my lap and said, 'Now, Brother Stuart, you are in
the home of a Methodist preacher; do what you think best.'

"I replied, 'As I sit to-day in the family of a Methodist preacher, let
us begin our service with an old-fashioned experience meeting. I want
each child, in the order of your ages, to tell your experience.' The
oldest arose and pointed his finger at the oil portrait of his father,
hanging on the wall, and said in substance about as follows: 'Brother
Stuart, there is the picture of the best father God ever gave a family.
Many a time he has taken me to his secret place of prayer, put his hand
on my head, and prayed for his boy. And at every turn of my life,
since he has left me, I have felt the pressure of his hand on my head,
and have seen the tears upon his face, and have heard the prayers from
his trembling lips. I have not been as good a man since his death as I
ought to have been, but I stand up here to-day to tell you and my
brothers and sisters and my dear old mother that I am going to live a
better life from this hour until I die.'