When I was in Europe, Mr. Spurgeon told me a story of a boy who was in an orphan asylum. This little boy came up to Mr. Spurgeon and said, "Mr. Spurgeon, would you allow me to speak to you?" He said, "Certainly; get upon my knee." The little fellow got up, and said, "Mr. Spurgeon, supposing that your mother was dead, and that your father was dead; and that you were put into this institution; and that there were other little boys that had no father or mother, but that they had cousins and uncles and aunts, and that they brought them fruit and candy and a lot of things. Don't you think that you would feel bad? 'Cause that's me." Why, Mr. Spurgeon put his hand in his pocket, and gave the little fellow some money right off. The little fellow had pleaded his cause well. When men come to God and tell their story—I don't care how vile you are; I don't care how far down you have got; I don't care how far off you have wandered—if you will tell it all into His ear, the relief will soon come.