r any accident. A gentleman
standing by one of the crew asked him how he could tell if help were
needed. There were thousands of bathers, and a perfect babel of noises.
The weather-beaten man, bronzed and toughened and trained to keenness in
his work by years of service, said, "I can always hear a cry of distress,
no matter how great the noise and confusion. There never yet has been a
cry of need I haven't heard."

For a long time the confusion of noises bothered the Church ears. But now
the cry of distress from over the wide seas is being heard again
distinctly, and is being responded to splendidly. The very earnestness of
response and effort is a forerunner of sure victory.

<u>A Great World-chorus.</u>

I recall vividly a scene in Albert Hall in London nearly fifteen years
ago. A remarkable gathering from all parts of the world had come together
to celebrate the jubilee of the Young Men's Christian Association. About
two thousand men had come from the ends of the earth. It was a
world-gathering. There were sturdy Englishmen, cosmopolitan Americans,
canny Scots, quick-witted Irishmen, sweet-voiced, fervid-spirited
Welshmen, and courtly, suave Frenchmen.

Fair-haired, blue-eyed Scandinavians mingled with olive-skinned,
black-eyed sons of Italy. The steady-going Hollander and the intense
German mingled their deep gutturals with the songs of praise and the
discussions. A few turbaned heads, inscrutably quiet almond-eyes, and
others of energetic step and speech brought to mind the Great Orient,
India and China and Japan. Men won up out of the savagery of Africa sat
with Islanders from the Pacific.

They came from many communions and represented many creeds, and spoke as
many tongues as the Jerusalem crowds on the day of Pentecost. But they
were drawn together not by their attractive diversity, but because of
their oneness. The drawing-power of Jesus was the magnet that drew them.
It was the music of His Name that made all their tongues and languages
blend and chord in sweet harmony.

This night I speak of they had gathered in the great oval-shaped Albert
Hall opposite Hyde Park. With the Londoners, probably, fully ten thousand
persons were present. And I think I shall never forget the vast volume of
sound, as, led by a chorus of Scandinavian students, they all united in
singing, "All hail the power of Jesus' Name."

They didn't sing it to our American tune of "Coronation," but to the old
English "Miles Lane.