home. My father in his youth had been trained 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.