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Several interesting stories have grown out of the singing of "The Ninety and Nine" on special occasions. Many years ago there lived at Northfield an infidel; and one day, while all the neighbors had gone to the meeting at the church, he sat at home alone feeling dissatisfied with himself and all the world in general. But he heard Mr. Sankey singing "The Ninety and Nine"; and there was something in the hymn that he could not escape. The melody rang in his ears, and the thought of the lost sheep troubled him that night, and the next, and the following day until the evening, when he could stand it no longer. He went to the meeting and returned a saved man.

A few years later he was taken ill. One day he said to his wife,

"Raise the window; I hear 'The Ninety and Nine.'" Then he listened attentively until the last notes of the hymn had died out; and turning from the window he said,

"I am dying; but it is all right, for I am ready. I shall never hear 'The Ninety and Nine' again on earth, but I am glad that I have heard it once more today."

My own recollections of Northfield bring back many incidents concerning those whom it was my fortune to meet there. During the summer of 1894 the auditorium meetings were in charge of Dr. A. J. Gordon, while Mr. Moody was holding a series of evangelistic services in England. One evening Mr. Sankey came to me and said,

"Will you say something? there is a request from the audience that you speak." I felt that I was not prepared for the occasion and so I said,

"Oh, Mr. Sankey, I cannot speak before such an array of talent." Dr. Pierson supplemented Mr. Sankey's request by saying,

"Yes, you can. There is no one here of whom you need be afraid." Then Dr. Gordon said,

"Fanny, do you speak to please man or to please God?"

"Why, I hope to please God," I replied. "Well, then," he said, "go out and do your duty."

During my remarks that evening I repeated for the first time in public the words to "Saved by Grace," although the hymn had been written more than two years before that summer, but it had never been pub-lished or used in any way.

"Where have you kept that piece?" asked Mr. Sankey, when I returned to my seat. I told him that I had kept it stored away for an emergency. There was a reporter present that evening; he copied the hymn as I gave it; and a few weeks later it appeared in an English religious paper. At the request of Mr. Sankey, my friend, George C. Stebbins, composed the music to "Saved by Grace" and thus the hymn was sent forth on its mission to the world.

So strong was the friendship existing between Mr. Moody and Mr. Sankey that we used to call them "David and Jonathan"; and I am sure that the modern church has not known two men more devoted to the work of Christian evangelism; and so they went far and near, telling the old, old story in sermon and in gospel song, until the influence of their meetings spread through all classes of society.

My last personal message from Mr. Moody was received shortly before his death while I was conducting a series of meetings in Oneonta, New York. A friend of mine was leaving for Northfield; and at my request he carried a message of greeting to Mr. Moody; and when the latter heard it, he exclaimed, "Oh, Fanny Crosby, give her my love." I little thought then that before many months the sender of those kind words would sleep on the summit of old Round Top, where we had gathered many beautiful summer evenings to hear his words of comfort and of inspiration.

Dwight Lyman Moody was a wonderful man; and he did his own work in a unique way, which was some-times no less daring than original. The following passage from the Holy Book is in my mind as I think of his blameless life:

"Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord from henceforth. Yea, saith the Spirit, that they may rest from their labors, and their works do follow them."

It is a blessed joy that his companion, Mr. Sankey, has been spared to the present hour; and that during the last twenty-five years he has been a close associate of mine in writing gospel hymns. His work as a com-poser and as a singer is known throughout the length and breadth of the Christian world; for the sorrowing and unfortunate of both America and Great Britain he has done an amount of good that eternity alone will be able to estimate; and his own sweet melodies have indeed been a balm to many an aching heart.

The friendship of this talented man is one of my priceless jewels. During a recent illness I told him that I believed the entire Christian world was praying for his recovery. He said, "Tell those who love me and are praying for me that I am holding on to Christ and Christ is holding on to me; and that by and by I'll see Him face to face and tell the story 'Saved by Grace.'"

Recently while visiting at Mr. Sankey's home, I heard him calling from his room upstairs, "Fanny Crosby is in this house; I hear her laugh." Then I went to his room; we conversed pleasantly for a long time; and the next day when I was leaving his home he handed me the following hymn, saying "You may have this for your book." The words were written by Sarah Doudney, and set to music composed by himself.