"Even in its faintest form there is this distinction between a call to the ministry and a choice of other professions: a young man may _wish_ to be a physician; he may _desire_ to enter the navy; he would _like_ to be a farmer; but he feels he _ought_ to be a minister. It is this feeling of _ought_, or obligation, which in its feeblest form indicates the Divine call. It is not in the aptitude, taste, or desire, but in the conscience, that its root is found. It is the voice of God to the human conscience, saying, 'You ought to preach.'" Sometimes the call comes as distinctly as though a voice had spoken from the skies into the depths of the heart. A young man who was studying law was converted. After a while he was convicted for sanctification, and while seeking he heard, as it were, a voice, saying, "Will you devote all your time to the Lord?" He replied: "I am to be a lawyer, not a preacher, Lord." But not until he had said, "Yes, Lord," could he find the blessing. A thoughtless, godless young fellow was working in the corn-field when a telegram was handed him announcing the death of his brother, a brilliant and devoted Salvation Army Field Officer; and there and then, unsaved as he was, God called him, showed him a vast Army with ranks broken, where his brother had fallen, and made him to feel that he should fill the breach in the ranks. Fourteen months later he took up the sword, and entered the Fight from the same platform from which his brother fell, and is to-day one of our most successful and promising Field Officers. Again, the call may come as a quiet suggestion, a gentle conviction, as though a gossamer bridle were placed upon the heart and conscience to guide the man into the work of the Lord. The suggestion gradually becomes clearer, the conviction strengthens until it masters the man, and if he seeks to escape it, he finds the silken bridle to be one of stoutest thongs and firmest steel. It was so with me. When but a boy of eleven, I heard a man preaching, and I said to myself, "Oh, how beautiful to preach!" Two years later I was converted, and soon the conviction came upon me that I should preach. Later, I decided to follow another profession; but the conviction increased in strength, while I struggled against it, and turned away my ears and went on with my studies. Yet in every crisis, or hour of stillness, when my soul faced God, the conviction that I must preach burned itself deeper into my conscience. I rebelled against it. I felt I would almost rather (but not quite) go to Hell than to submit. Then at last a great "Woe is me, if I preach not the Gospel," took possession of me, and I yielded, and God won. Hallelujah!