Religion holds many a woman whose son is a wanderer, either criminal or otherwise, from insanity. I know a woman who has not looked into the face of her wandering son for six years. She stands up and sings with radiant face, “I am going through whatever others do, I am going through with Jesus,” and in spite of what looks an unbearable sorrow, leads a useful and apparently happy life. A mission is a blessed thing for enthusiasts. It sends them with flowers and literature to hospitals and jails, it sends food to private families in need, it gives the enthusiasts tracts to distribute, it puts musical instruments into their hands and says, “Praise the Lord with pleasant sounds,” it sets women to repairing clothing for the poor, to caring for little children, while mothers earn money for food. As we do these things we talk religion, we tell of Jesus, the friend of sinners, we make a steady effort in very many directions to have each soul brought into harmony with God. In almost every instance where sorrow in a family has been the result of sin; and Jesus is allowed to become to each of them a personal Saviour; the home is electrified by a new enthusiasm; the parents become efficient, self-supporting, happy; the children become self-respecting; are taken from the class needing help; and become helpers. Religion eases the burden of life and heals the welts of adversity. We have in Washington a club known as “The Monday Evening Club,” a clearing house for all forms of philanthropy. At the different banquets and at their monthly meetings all forms of reforms, from purely a humanitarian standpoint, are discussed, but we, who go at the open sores of the world with the only sure cure earth has yet received, the religion of Jesus Christ, we receive no recognition, we are given no hearing at banquets, and are never spoken of as part of the city's force for betterment, yet we comfort the prisoner, we bring hope to the hopeless, and we are the real protection of the city. No hungry man is turned from our door unsatisfied. A hungry man is a danger, a man with a hungry family is a menace. He will get food even if it costs a life to obtain it. Like Him whom we serve we are rejected of men. We work amid the social dynamite of a great city. Unless the religious part of this nation assumes its rightful place as arbiter in all labor troubles, saying to the rich man, “Thou shalt not defraud,” and to the poor man, “Thou shalt do no violence”; unless Christian people see to it that remunerative labor can be had by every person willing to work; unless Christian people close the saloons (the author of seventy-five per cent of the sufferings of the poor), on some sad day our great cities will be systematically dynamited. As Christians we must go down among them and make the broken man feel that he is only temporarily sidetracked from the great highway of success. That the grace of God and his own will can and will bring him back to the great highway of prosperity.