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The Platform a Religious Power Editor The Golden Age: While thinking this afternoon of the revival cam paign that is before us for this fall and winter, it occurred to me that it might encourage our pas tors throughout Southern Methodism to tell of the prosperity of the Lord’s work in our hands, while entering upon this fall’s work. There is a revival atmosphere surrounding us. During the summer months I made a preaching and lecturing tour of some of the Chautauquas in the Western States. Having spoken nearly fifty times in lowa, Illinois, Wisconsin, Missouri, West Vir ginia and Nebraska, I had an opportunity of study ing the “signs of the times.” While some people think a preacher has backslidden who goes upon the Chautauqua lecture platform, I wish to say that there is not a platform that makes it easier for a man to preach the old fashioned religion than these great summer gatherings. The platform is just as real as those of our great political parties, or the creeds of our evangelical churches. They stand against intemperance, graft, worldliness, and hypocrisy. They stand for the Bible, home religion, prayer, work, and Christian education. Audiences from 1,000 to 5,000 are eager for the truth. Many places, where I spoke, the ministers of the town asked me to consider return ing and conducting union revivals for them. It was my good pleasure to precede, preach with, and follow the only, inimitable Sam P. Jones at the Chautauqua. Brother Jones is the most popu lar lecturer and preacher at these great Chautau quas. The good he does eternity alone will reveal. Having been associated with him, more or less, in his great meetings, since I was first thrown with him in a meeting at Wilkesboro, N. C., nearly five years ago; he planning for me and my singer, Mr. Edwin Smoot, and E. O. Excell, his life long friend and great leader in song, to be with him in four meetings this fall, we gladly accepted the invita tion. Loves the Famous Evangelist. As Mr. Jones has been such a help to me in his preaching and given me such opportunities to preach and work in his meetings, I Was glad to join him in these meeting’s. No man can associate with Brother Jones without loving God better and souls more. To me he is not only the greatest preacher in America, but the purest man I have ever known intimately. Our first meeting was at Cartersville, Ga., in September. Here he has preached for thirty-five years, and the people would rather hear him today than any man he can bring to Cartersville. To see fifteen thousand people trying to get within the sound of his marvelous voice, and hanging on his words, reminds one of what the people said of our Master, “ Never man spake as this man.” The Cartersville meeting was the greatest and best in its history. It was a spiritual feast to a man’s soul. To be in Brother Jones’ home is a benediction for a life time. Os the dozen faith ful preachers, personal workers, gathered there from North, South, East and West, it was the com mon verdict of all, that such a treat and privilege comes once in a life. Great Meeting in Oklahoma. At present we are in Oklahoma City, Okla., preaching in an immense building that will accom modate 5,000. We came here on the invitation of Dr. W. K. Pinner, and a more genial, godly, and faithful man is not to be found in Southern Meth odism. This is a new city in a new state, people are here from all parts of the country to get rich, many have left their church letters and religion 'back in the other states. Many, however, are sup porting the church with their money, prayers and godly living. But a great majority are on the side of the world. The meeting is taking on great proportions. Christians are being revived, backsliders are be ing reclaimed, sinners are being converted, and we SAM JONES AND HIS CO-LABORERS The Golden Age for October 11, 1906. are confidently expecting thousands of souls to come back to God. The battle is a hard one. The forces of evil are strong. The movement is going to mean much for temperance, home and church. Let all God’s people pray for us and the noble ministers here that this new’ land may be won for God. With kindest regards for The Golden Age, its Editors, and wishing unbounded success, we are yours for a great victory and a soul saving church. Yours sincerely, Walt Holcomb. Oklahoma City, Okla., Oct. 6, 1906. Whiskey Men Outwitted. Editor Golden Age: In your article, “Whiskey Down, Property Up,” you state that whiskey men, and some church mem bers, say “when you take whiskey out of a com munity you ruin business—property depreciates.” That theory has not only been exploded, but the experience of many prohibition communities has proved that to be absolutely false. I could name a number of towns and counties in which crimes have almost ceased and property has advanced from 100 to 500 per cent, where prohibition has taken the place of the saloon and distilleries. I have one county in my mind’s eye that I will give your readers the actual experience of. About fifteen years ago, Gaston county, North Carolina, had two cotton mills and forty-live dis tilleries. In each one of the “stills,” a saloon. The whiskey ring was in control of the state and county politics. A little band of prohibitionists quit “resoluting” and got a bill passed by the legislature that no distillery should be within two miles of a church or school house. They (the pro hibitionists) built schools and churches in less than two miles of each distillery. The distillers cursed, fumed and finally moved out of the county. What about today? There is not a single distillery but there are 38 cotton mills in that county. Under the whiskey regime, the town of Gastonia, in Gaston county, had a population of about 800, today it has over 7,000; there is only one other county in North Carolina whose real estate is valued higher per acre on the average than that of Gaston. The people of Gas ton county would not go back to “stills” or bar rooms for anything. Keep up your fight for uncompromising prohibi tion, take no “moral institution” dispensary as a substitute. A Subscriber. R An Inspiring Evening. On Monday night, tire tenth of September, Mr. Will D. Upshaw (whom we still love to call Earnest Willie), delivered a lecture at the Auditorium to the people of Fort Deposit. A large crowd gath ered there to hear it, for only a few weeks before, he had assisted in a revival here, winning the hearts of every one with his strong messages and his earn est and touching appeals. The subject of the lecture was “Climbi f Up ward: Hope, Ambition or Purpose, Opp tunity, Those who love us, and through all these, m voice of God. He began by reciting an original poem, and then, without notes, proceeded to tell us of the first “voice” as he called it—Hope. “Who shall say that Fortune grieves him, While the star of hope she leaves him?” would finely describe hi $ words along this line. - Hope, he told us, was not only a blessed balm to suffering, sad humanity, but so necessary to us to travel that journey upward. To him this “star of Hope” had shone “a shining, cheering spark” through the dark clouds of his life, and soon after his days of invalidism came, when he himself was unable to write, he composed a poem on Hope and dictated it to his sister, who was his amanuensis. Here are the first four lines: “There is a word I can’t express, It thrills me o’er and o’er, And were it not for its effect My bliss would be no more.” After listening to sweet strains of music, “Earn est Willie” led us on to the next verse, which was Ambition. Shakespeare charges us “to fling away ambition, by that sin fell the angels.” But the speaker believing with another high authority thac “Not failure, but low aim is crime,” urged every young life there to be ambitious; to have a purpose strong; to patiently and persistently climb the Mountain of Difficulty, until at last the golden summit was reached. Only the “unfinished” am bitions and aimless lives were: “Baffled and beaten and blown about By the winds of the wilderness of doubt.” How inspiring that part of his lecture must have been to the young people I And those who had not already “hitched their wagons to a star,” surely must have done so that night. And not the young folks alone. “But those from whom all hope had fled, He roused to thoughts of high desire, And bathed their hearts so cold and dead Tn floods of living fire.” After a beautiful song, so that we might think over what he had said, “Earnest Willie” spoke on Opportunity. He urged the boys and girls to make the best of their opportunities, for “God had gemmed their path with opportunities thick as sum mer dew-drops on the grass.” And though some might be tethered with bodily afflictions or poverty, not to be discouraged, for “made opportunities” were open to them, which, after all, were the best. He gave many beautiful illustrations of the truth of this; one being the case of David E. Guyton, the “blind Milton” writer for The Golden Age. This was hardly necessary, for many in the au dience felt that the speaker himself was proof sufficient. He has been truly likened to Alexander Stephens, but it flitted through my mind as I list ened to him, that he was not so unlike Alexander Pope—the frail, delicate body—the lofty, poetic soul. “Earnest Willie” then called us to “Climb Up ward” for the sake of loved ones—and for Christ— truly saying how futile would be all of our efforts and resolves unless founded on “The Rock of Ages. ’ ’ He closed the lecture with a short tender prayer, which was very appropriate and beautiful, and put me in mind of the pathetic little Scotch story of “His Mother’s Sermon.” You remember in “Be side the Bonnie Briar Bush” the young preacher stood at his mother’s death bed to receive her last words. They were: “John, the first day you preach speak a good word for Jesus Christ.” The speaker’s voice, though not strong, was as clear as a silver clarion, and he held his listeners in •rapt silence, only when bursts of applause and laughter broke the stillness. For like “The Hoosier Poet,” he believed it well “to spice the good a trifle with a little dust of fun,” and his racy anecdotes, good natured sarcasms at gay youth and the rollicking songs composed in honor of “Mercer” during his college days and sung by six merry girls, were especially “happy hits.” As Dr. Johnson said of “The Vicar of Wake field,” “it was one of the few lectures that we wished was longer,” for “the golden hours on angel wings” had flown over us, and too, too soon we turned again home. Oh, “Earnest Willie!” rightly named in thy youth. Since thou hast taught thy hearers that “no life can be pure in its purpose and strong in its strife, and all life not be purer and better thereby,” we shall ever think of thee as Pointing Upward! Annie Bell. Fort Deposit, Ala. One of the greatest natural curiosities of the world and the only one of its kind in existence is a coal mine near Hongay in French Indo-China which is entirely above ground. It was only nec essary to displace a bed of thin rock underneath which lay the coal, and the mining process is to rut the coal away in terrace form. There are 3,500 miners employed in this work. 11