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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