w if I would go to see
him; she thought it might do him some good. What is his name?
"Judge---," and she mentioned one of the most eminent politicians in
the State. "I have heard of him," I said; "I am afraid I need not go,
he is a booked infidel; I cannot argue with him." "That is not what he
wants," said the lady. "He has had too much argument already. Go and
speak to him about his soul." I said I would, although I was not very
hopeful. I went to his house, was admitted to his room, and introduced
myself as having come to speak to him about salvation. "Then you have
come on a very foolish errand," said he; "there's no use in attacking
me, I tell you that. I am proof against all these things, I don't
believe in them."

Well, I saw it was no use arguing with him; so I said, "I'll pray for
you, and I want you to promise me that when you are converted you'll
let me know." "Oh, yes, I'll let you know," he said in a tone of
sarcasm. "Oh, yes, I'll let you know when I'm converted!" I left him,
but I continued to pray for him. Some time subsequently I heard that
the old judge was converted. I was again preaching in that city a
while after that, and when I had done talking the judge himself came
to me, and said: "I promised I'd let you know when I was converted; I
have come to tell you of it. Have you not heard of it?" "Yes; but I
would like to hear from you how it happened."

"Well," said the judge, "one night, some time after you called on me,
my wife had gone to the meeting; there was no one in the house but the
servants. I sat by the drawing-room fire, and I began to think:
Suppose my wife is right, that there is a heaven and a hell; and
suppose she is on the right way to heaven, where am I going? I just
dismissed the thought. But a second thought came: Surely He who
created me is able to teach me. Yes, I thought, that is so. Then why
not ask Him? I struggled against it, but at last, though I was too
proud to get down on my knees, I just said, 'Father, all is dark; Thou
who created me canst teach me.'

Somehow, the more I prayed the worse I felt. I was very sad. I did not
wish my wife to come home and find me thus, so I slipped away to bed,
and when she came into the room I pretended to be asleep. She got down
on her knees and prayed. I knew she was praying for me, and that for
many long years she had been doing so. I felt as if I could have
jumped up and knelt beside her; but no, my proud heart would not let
me, so I