Now, I want you to take the
question with you and think over it, and next Sunday I want you to come
back and tell me what you are going to do with it." What a mistake! It
seems now as if Satan was in my mind when I said this. Since then I
never have dared give an audience a week to think of their salvation. If
they were lost they might rise up in judgment against me. "Now is the
accepted time." We went down stairs to the other meeting, and I remember
when Mr. Sankey was singing, and how his voice rang when he came to that
pleading verse:

To-day the Saviour calls;
For refuge fly.
The storm of justice falls,
And death is nigh.

After the meeting we went home. I remember going down La Salle street
with a young man who is probably in the hall to-night, and saw the glare
of flames. I said to the young man: "This means ruin to Chicago." About
one o'clock, Farwell Hall went; soon the church in which I had preached
went down, and everything was scattered. I never saw that audience
again. My friends, we don't know what may happen to-morrow, but there is
one thing I do know, and that is, if you take the gift you are saved. If
you have eternal life you need not fear fire, death, or sickness. Let
disease or death come, you can shout triumphantly over the grave if you
have Christ. My friends, what are you going to do with Him to-night?
Will you decide now?

"A Day of Decision."

I believe there is a day of decision in our lives--a day upon which the
crisis of our lives occurs. There is a day when the Son of Man comes and
stands at our heart and knocks and knocks for the last time and leaves
us forever. I can imagine when Pilate was banished how this recollection
troubled him day and night. He remembered how that Saviour had looked on
him--how innocent He was; he remembered how, when the Jews were
clamoring for His death, and the cry echoed through the streets of
Jerusalem, "Crucify Him! crucify Him!" It seemed as if He had nothing
but love for them. Probably some one told him the story of the
crucifixion, and how when nailed to the cross and the howling mob around
Him, He cried, "Father, forgive them; they know not what they do;" he
remembered how they clamored for his life, and how he hadn't the moral
courage to stand up for the despised Nazarene, and that preyed upon his
mind, and he put an end to his miserable existence.

Moody Puts a Man in his "Prophet's Room."

A few years ago as I stood at the do