I received a telegram from a city eighty-five miles distant, containing these two words, "Come to-morrow." I knew not who had a belief, or what the belief was, but this I did know that "God is All, and there is none beside Him."
It was a gentleman seventy-five years of age, who was, to mortal sense, dying. They knew when the telegram reached its destination, he brightened up, and when I arrived there he was all right: had just come in from the barn.
I could but feel grateful to you and our dear Father for such a demonstration of Truth. To you, because you led us to the "Fountain," and placed the cup in our hands and told us to drink.
I speak of this case because of the indefiniteness, to mortal sense, of the despatch.—
