I have a tenant in a little house, a grocery, on Sixth street, right next to the First Presbyterian church, who is a fearfully wicked man, a common drunkard, and steeped in sin; and I come to you to-day to beg you to seek him out and try to rescue him. He has four or five little motherless children, whose lives are full of the bitterest sorrow; they are so dirty and unkempt that the public school teacher had to send them home. They are under no control; have no one to train them for God, and ought to be where some one would save them from themselves and ruin. When I leased my house to him, he was a very handsome, well-to-do man; young, apparently honest, paid his rent regularly, and had a very nice little wife, who has since died--I think with a broken heart. Will you not look him up at once? Or, if you are too full of other cases, will you not get some one of your workers to try to lead him back to good paths? He is a very desperate case, I know, and seems almost past saving now; but you know God's grace can reach any heart. I would lay this poor dissolute creature, lost to all sense of honor, shame or manliness, on your soul, my brother, and beseech you, for Christ's sake, for the sake of these poor motherless children, whose souls are worth saving for Christ, do try to bring your influence and your prayers for God's help, to this miserable man's case, and see if you can help. If he is past God's mercy--and I can not believe that--will you not see what can be done for the little ones? The oldest boy is a bright little fellow, and may become a great light in our Father's work. I hear that this man has been to hear Mr. Moody. I do not know if it helped him. Will you not send after him, and try to get him to go to-night? I will meet you in prayer there for him. In bonds of Christian friendship, JENNIE CASSEDAY. * * * * * ALEXANDER'S HOTEL, LOUISVILLE, KY., May 30, 1888. _My Dear Mr. Holcombe:_ I am struggling as hard as ever a poor wretch did against my appetite for liquor. I have asked the good Lord to help me overcome the habit, but I feel that my prayers amount to nothing. May I ask you to ask the Great Controller of us all to give me strength to overcome this habit? Save me, or help save me, I beg and implore you. Please give me your prayers. ---- ----. * * * * * OCTOBER 16, 1887. _My Dear Steve:_