Dear Friends: I should bear a burden on my conscience, if I did not come to you to-day with the 'old, old story.'
"Over the tent which has been prepared for the President of the United
States there glows, done in evergreen, this single word, 'rest.'
"As I pass it, I am reminded of another and a different rest: the rest from every burden, every anxiety, every pain, every sin; who has rested in those everlasting arms? There is coming a day when all this throng of human life gathered here shall wait for the coming of the King. Yea, even the 'King of kings.' Should that time be to-day, who is ready? Do you know his power? Do you know his grace? Do you know his love? Through the atonement of the Lord Jesus Christ, every one of you may have that King for your father; I am commissioned, this day, to bring this invitation to each one of you; 'Come unto me all ye that are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.' Will you come?———Pardon this interruption—no, I will not ask your pardon: it is never an interruption to bring good news from the King to his subjects. I will not weary you with a long presentation; I have only this message: you are all invited to come to the Lord Jesus Christ, and be saved from every possible calamity; you are all invited to come now. I am going to ask the Tennesseeans to sing one of my favorites:
"'Brother, don't stay away;
For my Lord says there's room enough,
Room enough in the heaven for you.'"
Never were tender words more tenderly sung! Never did they steal out upon the hearts of a more hushed and solemn audience. That matchless word of gospel had touched home. There were those in the crowd who had never realized before that the invitation was for them.
Following the hymn came another, suggested also by Dr. Vincent: "Steal away to Jesus." It is one of the sweetest as well as one of the strangest of African melodies; and as the tender message floated up among the trees, a strange hush settled over the listeners; many tears were quietly wiped away from eyes unused to weeping.
"Now sing 'Almost persuaded,'" said Dr. Vincent, his own voice tremulous with his highly wrought feeling. Many voices took that up. Even the Chautauqua girls sang, all but Eurie. With the sentence:
"Seems now some soul to say,
Go, spirit, go thy way;
Some more convenient day
On thee I'll call."
Flossy tamed her anxious, appealing eyes on Eurie, but she was laughing merrily over the attempt of a feeble old man near her to join in the song, and Flossy whispered sadly to Ruth: "Eurie has not even as much interest as that."
The spell of the message and the music lingered, even after Dr. Vincent had gone again. There was no more grumbling; there was very little laughing; a subdued spirit seemed to brood over the great company.