In the year 1878 I was called to preach in Boston at the Baptist Tabernacle
of Rev. Daniel C. Eddy, D.D.,--by the pastor of this church. I accepted the
invitation and commenced work.

The congregation so increased in number the pews were not sufficient to
seat the audience and benches were used in the aisles. At the close of my
engagement we parted in Christian fellowship, if not in full unity of
doctrine.

Our last vestry meeting was made memorable by eloquent addresses from
persons who feelingly testified to having been healed through my preaching.
Among other diseases cured they specified cancers. The cases described had
been treated and given over by physicians of the popular schools of
medicine, but I had not heard of these cases till the persons who divulged
their secret joy were healed. A prominent churchman agreeably informed the
congregation that many others present had been healed under my preaching,
but were too timid to testify in public.

One memorable Sunday afternoon, a soprano,--clear, strong,
sympathetic,--floating up from the pews, caught my ear. When the meeting
was over, two ladies pushing their way through the crowd reached the
platform. With tears of joy flooding her eyes--for she was a mother--one of
them said, "Did you hear my daughter sing? Why, she has not sung before
since she left the choir and was in consumption! When she entered this
church one hour ago she could not speak a loud word, and now, oh, thank
God, she is healed!"

It was not an uncommon occurrence in my own church for the sick to be
healed by my sermon. Many pale cripples went into the church leaning on