On Sunday evening, October 8, 1871, we were holding a meeting in Farwcll Hall, which was crowded to the doors. At the close of his address Mr. Moody asked me to sing a solo ; and standing by the great organ at the rear of the platform I began the old, familiar hymn, " To-day the Saviour calls." By the time I had readied the third verse, To-day the Saviour calls / For refuge fly / The storm of justice falls / And death is nigh, my voice was drowned by the loud noise of the fire engines rushing past the hall, and tolling of bells, among which we could hear, ever and anon, the deep, sullen tones of the great city bell, in the steeple of the old court-house close at hand, ringing out a general alarm.