I remember when our war was going on I took up the morning paper and read of a terrible battle—ten thousand men killed, and I laid the paper down and forgot it.
At last I went into the battle-field and helped to bear away the sick and wounded; after I had been over one or two battle-fields I began to realize what it meant. I could hear the dying groans of the men and their cry for water, and when I heard of a battle the whole thing was stamped upon my mind.
I can tell you how a little child suffered and it will bring tears to your eyes, but I tell you how the Son of God suffered and some of you will go out laughing.
D. L. Moody