missed what? inquired bethany.the mayors address of welcome, this afternoon.you know he is a jew.such a broad, fraternal speech must have been a revelation to a great many of his audience.i tell you, it was fine! youre going tonight, arent you, bethany? no, she answered, i want to save myself for the sunrise prayermeeting on the mountain tomorrow.i saw the sun come up over the rigi once.it is a sight worth staying up all night to see.it was about two oclock in the morning when they started up the mountain by rail.the cars were crowded.people hung on the straps, swaying back and forth in the aisles, as the train lurched around sudden curves.notwithstanding the early hour, and the discomfort of their position, they sang all the way up the mountain.cousin ray, said bethany, do tell me how these people can sing so constantly.the last thing i heard last night before i went to sleep was the electric streetcar going past the house, with a regular hallelujah chorus on board.do you suppose they really feel all they sing? how can they keep worked up to such a pitch all the time? you should have been at the tent last night, dear, answered mrs.marion.then you would have gotten into the secret of it.there is an inspiration in great numbers.the audiences we are having there are said to be the greatest ever gathered south of the ohio.our league at home has been doing very faithful work, but i couldnt help wishing last night that every member could have been present.to see ten thousand faces lit up with the same interest and the same hope, to hear the battlecry, all for christ, and the amen that rolled out in response like a volley of ten thousand musketry, would have made them feel like a little, straggling company of soldiers suddenly awakened to the fact that they were not fighting singlehanded, but that all that great army were reenforcing them.more than that, these were only the advanceguard, for over a million young people are enlisted in the same cause.think of that, bethanya million leagued together just in methodism! then, when you count with them all the christian endeavor forces, and the baptist unions, and the kings daughters and sons, and the young mens christian associations, and the brotherhood of st.andrew, it looks like the combined power ought to revolutionize the universe in the next decade.then you think it is an inspiration of the crowds that makes them sing all the time, said bethany.by no means! answered mrs.marion.to be sure, it has something to do with it; but to most of this vast number of young people, their religion is not a sentiment to be fanned into spasmodic flame by some excitement.it is a vital force, that underlies every thought and every act.they will sing at home over their work, and all by themselves, just as heartily as they do here.i remember seeing in westminster abbey, one time, the profiles of john and charles wesley put side by side on the same medallion.i have thought, since then, it is only a halfhearted sort of methodism that does not put the spirit of both brothers into its daily lifethat does not wing its sermons with its songs.hundreds of people had already gathered on the brow of the mountain, waiting the appointed hour.mr.marion led the way to a place where nature had formed a great amphitheater of the rocks.they seated themselves on a long, narrow ledge, overlooking the valley.they were above the clouds.such billows of mist rolled up and hid the sleeping earth below that they seemed to be looking out on a boundless ocean.the world and its petty turmoils were blotted out.there was only this one gray peak raising its solitary head in infinite space.it was still and solemn in the early light.they spoke together almost in whispers.i can not believe that any man ever went up into a mountain to pray without feeling himself drawn to a higher spiritual altitude, said dr.bascom.frank marion looked around on the assembled crowds, and then said slowly: once a little band of five hundred met the risen lord on a mountainside in galilee, and were sent away with the promise, lo, i am with you alway! think what they accomplished, and then think of the thousands here this morning that may go back to the work of the valley with the same promise and the same power! there ought to be a wonderful work accomplished for the master this year.cragmore, who had walked away a little distance from the rest, and was watching the eastern sky, turned to them with his face alight.see! he cried, with the eagerness of a child, and yet with the appreciation of a poet shining in his eyes; the wings of the morning rising out of the uttermost parts of the sea.he pointed to the long bars of light spreading like great flaming pinions above the horizon.the dawn had come, bringing a new heaven and a new earth.in the solemn hush of the sunrise, a voice began to sing, nearer, my god, to thee.it was as in the days of the old temple