A great, stalwart New Zealander, of twenty-four or five years of age, was leaning his head upon the reading-table in Maundrell Hall. The colporteur went across and, laying his hand upon his shoulder, said, “Thinking of home, laddie?” “Hey, boss I was.” “Thinking of your mother?” “Yes.” “And your mother is thinking of you.” The tears coursed down his cheeks as he said: “I was just thinking of my home-leaving. Father and mother took me into the front room, and said, ‘John, you are going away, and we don’t know whether you will ever return. We would like to commend you to God.’ Mother took one hand, and father the other, and we knelt round the table. I will never forget my mother’s prayer as she asked God to save her soldier boy.” The poor fellow wept as he continued: “Oh, sir, I would give the world to know my mother’s God! “Before the interview closed, that young soldier had given himself to Jesus Christ, and he is still progressing in the heavenly way.