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It w* IL lift Ek m wBCCIt BO the- VOL. Vllli-No. 24 MIRACLES OF REDEMPTION AT CARTERSVILLE ♦ GYPSY SMITH, WORLD-FAMOUS EVANGELIST OF ENGLAND, AND JOHN CALLAHAN, SUPT. OF HADLEY BOWERY MISSION, NEW YORK, WONDERFUL EXAMPLES OF REDEEMING GRACE—SAM JONES TABERNACLE MEETINGS AUG. 3-13. w| F I had been a blatant infidel “these 1J forty years” and more —if I had gone further and been an out and out athe ist (if such an one exists on earth) ; if I had been a Fire Worshiper from Persia, a Parsee from India, a Confucian from China a Buddhist from Japan, a Hottentot from Af rica or even a Mohammedan from Constantino ple—if I had been any or all of these in one, and had been at the Sam Jones Tabernacle at Cartersville last Sunday, with a grain of in tellect and a gleam of conscience left with ■B liL. Founder Sam Jones Tabernacle. which to receive the impartation and the im plantation of truth, I could not have looked at Gypsy Smith and John Callahan and believ ed their marvelous stories of redeeming grace in their own lives without shouting with the wondering people at Carmel: “The Lord, He is God! The Lord, He is God!” The Atmosphere of the Skies. The great Sam Jones Tabernacle was crowd ed at the opening service. Memories of the days when the famous and beloved Georgia evangelist erected that tabernacle and ruled for years its thronging thousands from a throne of love —memories yet further back, memories of gray-haired men and women there who “THE GOLDEN AGE BABY”—Page 9. ATLANTA, GA., AUGUST 7 By WILLIAM D. UPSHAW, Editor. knew Sam Jones in his early erring days as a lost sinner on the streets of Cartersville, and then saw him until death “kept by the power of God” as a miracle of redeeming love — memories like these and the thoughts that these memories brought in whole batallions of holy inspiration, were making the very atmos phere vocal and vibrant with the music of the spheres and the aroma of the skies It was enough to give any sane man a good case of religion before a word was uttered or a song was sung. Bob Jones Given Ovation. When Bob Jones, the beloved Alabama evan gelist. who won the hearts of the people during his great meeting last year, stepped on the platform, the great crowd broke into a beau tiful demonstration of welcome, waving him a chautauqua salute and making him thank God afresh for the privilege of living, loving and being loved, and especially for being asked by the Christian business men of Cartersville to conduct these annual Tabernacle meetings. “1 love everybody on earth,” said Bob Jones “and the peace of heaven is in my heart.” And McKenzie Sang. McKenzie, Bob Jones’ singer, fresh from new and treasured laurels at Tent Evangel, New York, his face haloed with a corner on sunshine, led the great congregation in songs new and old until the melody seemed to “rend the vaulted skies” and break in silver waves about the throne of God. And when the peo ple prayed heaven bent down and kissed all hearts into reverence and worship, while on every side the eyes of worshipers were gem med with tears that were crystal with the light of heaven. And then Bob Jones introduced Gypsy Smith. “I bring you the best on earth,” he said, “for everybody knows that God has made Gypsy Smith the ideal evangelist of the world.’ “My dear friends,” said the little bronzed man with black mustache, “I don’t believe what my generous friend has said. He meant well, but I am nothing at all but a poor sin- ner trusting in Jesus for "salvation and strength. But the prayer just now got hold of my heart. I was a Gypsy boy again. I saw myself selling clothes pins from that rov ing camp. And I see myself now in thanks giving as God’s messenger to multitudes all over the world. If I were an artist I would like to paint the picture of the two —the little Gypsy boy as I was, poor, sinful and ignorant, and then speaking to this multitude this morn ing for the glory of my Redeemer, and 1 would write under the two pictures in capital letters WHHL.; IT >■■■A - A- ... : . ' GYPSY SMITH. of gold: “What hath God wrought?” And I would like for the “higher critics” to explain that,” said Gypsy Smith in ringing tones while a blended smile of humility and triumph wreathed his radiant face. From that moment the vast crowd belonged to Gypsy Smith. Whether he sang (and he is a wonderful singer) or whether he unfolded the “deep things of God” the multitude hung an his every meaningful word. “We Are Partakers. His sermon was the heart of the Gospel by Peter. 1. “We are partakers of his divine nature.” 2. “We are partakers of his suf ferings.” 3. “We are partakers of his glory.” z . ,r ‘ {Coritjnued on page four.) ONE DOJLJLAR AND FIFT YCENTB A YEAR :: FIVE CENTS A COPT