Some time later I went to a place to conduct services, and met with fearful opposition. A man of great influence did all he could to break up the meeting. He lived close to the chuch, but refused to let any of his family attend. He even went so far as to have dance at his home to entice the young people from the services. The saints prayed earnestly, but could get no faith for his salvation. The meeting closed, and in less than a week later that man was in eternity. When on his deathbed he called for me to pray for him. I lifted up my voice to God, but my words would seem to fall back upon my heart with a thud, and the last words he was heard to utter were, "I am lost, I am lost!" I was asked to take the funeral service, and as I went to the mansion the oldest son met me at the door, and asked to pray that he might never live the life his father had lived. I have seen many sad homes, but the bereavement of this was greater than can be described. The house was filled with ungodly friends, who were trying to comfort the family. I asked God to give me a judgement-day message, and I preached damnation and eternal hellfire just as I thought the rich man in hell wanted Lazarus to preach to his five brethren.