The Personal Touch | Page 2

as a Presbyterian;
many of his ancestors having belonged to that denomination; therefore
it was quite natural that he should return to the Church of his fathers
when my mother had gone home.
It was thus I became a member of the Presbyterian Church, and my
Church training as a boy after fifteen years of age was in that
denomination. Because of this special interest in both the Church of my
father and my mother, I attended two Sunday Schools. In the morning I
was in a class in the Presbyterian school and in the afternoon was a
member of a class in the Grace Methodist Sunday School, my teacher
in the afternoon school being Mrs C.C. Binckley, a godly woman, the
wife of Senator Binckley of Indiana, through all her life from girlhood,
a devout follower of Christ and a faithful teacher in the Sunday School.
Not so very long ago I heard that she was still teaching in the same
school, and I am sure, as in the olden days, winning boys to Christ.
I fear that I was a thoughtless boy, and yet the impressions made upon
my life in those days by the death of my mother, the teaching of my
father, and the influence of my Sunday School teacher, were such that I
have never been able to get away from them.
One Sunday afternoon a stranger came to address our school--his name
I have never learned; I would give much to find it out. At the close of
his address he made an appeal to the scholars to stand and confess
Christ. I think every boy in my class rose to his feet with the exception
of myself. I found myself reasoning thus: Why should I rise, my mother
was a saint; my father is one of the truest men I know; my home
teaching has been all that a boy could have; I know about Christ and
think I realise His power to save.
While I was thus reasoning, my Sunday School teacher, with tears in
her eyes, leaned around back of the other boys and looking straight at
me, as I turned towards her she said, "Would it not be best for you to
rise?" And when she saw that I still hesitated, she put her hand under

my elbow and lifted me just a little bit, and I stood upon my feet. I can
never describe my emotions. I do not know that that was the time of my
conversion, but I do know that it was the day when one of the most
profound impressions of my life was made upon me. Through all these
years I have never forgotten it, and it was my Sunday School teacher
who influenced me thus to take the stand--it was her personal touch that
gave me courage to rise before the school and confess my Saviour.
In the good providence of God, during my student days, as well as
during the first years of my ministry, I was thrown in contact with men
who knew God, who were being marvellously used by Him, and who
seemed ready and willing to give assistance to one who was just
beginning the journey of life with all its struggles and conflicts ahead
of him.
When I was a student attending Lake Forest University, not far from
Chicago, I was very greatly troubled about the matter of assurance. I
heard that Mr Moody was to be in Chicago, and in company with a
friend I went in from Lake Forest to hear him. Five times in a single
day I sat at his feet and drank in the words which fell from his lips. He
thrilled me through and through. I heard him preach his great sermon
on "Sowing and Reaping," when old Farwell Hall was crowded with
young men many of whom were students like myself.
The impression that Mr Moody made upon me as a Christian young
man, was that I myself was not absolutely sure I was saved. I analysed
my experience and found that sometimes I was more than sure and at
other times dwelt in Doubting Castle. When the great evangelist called
for an after-meeting, I was one of the first to enter the room where he
had indicated he would meet those who were interested, and to my
great joy he came and sat down beside me. He asked me my difficulty
and I told him I was not quite sure that I was saved. He asked me to
read John v. 24, and trembling with emotion I read: "Verily, verily, I
say unto you, He that heareth my word, and believeth on Him that sent
me, hath everlasting life, and shall not come into condemnation; but is
passed from death unto