The address of welcome from first to last rang with the gospel invitation, “come;” no better word than that even for their chief; “honor to whom honor is due,” quoted the speaker, and then followed his graceful tribute, but it closed with a tender, dignified, earnest appeal to the President of the United States to ‘rest’ in the same refuge, to enlist under the same flag, to be loyal to the same Chief, whom they were met to serve.

“Out of my heart,” said he:  “as a man who recognizes God as the supreme ruler of us all, I bid you come with us, and we will do you good, for the Lord hath spoken good concerning Israel.”

Poor Eurie!  What a place she had chosen if she desired to hear no more preaching.  What were all these exercises, but sermons, one after the other, strong warm unanswerable appeals to be loyal to the Great Chief?  Certainly Dr. Deems was not the man to forget the Greater in his greeting to the under ruler; nor did he.

“Let me speak to you in closing,” said he, “to you and to this assembly, out of my heart.  We shall never all stand together again, until that great white throne shall stop in mid heavens, and we shall stand to meet the Chiefest of all chiefs.  O men and brethren, shall we not all prepare to meet there?  Mr. President, every day prayer is made for you; we are hoping to meet with you in heaven.  Brave men who stood beside you in the late war, and have gone on ahead, are hoping to greet you there.  May you have a good life, a happy life, a blessed life; and may other tongues more eloquent than mine, more eloquent than even my brother’s who preceded me, bid you welcome one day to the general assembly of the first born.  Amen and amen.”

What could better close the matchless greetings than to have the Tennesseeans circle round their president and sing again that ringing chorus: 

            “I’ve been redeemed,
    Been washed in the blood of the Lamb.”

“I don’t know what will become of the grumblers,” Marion said as they rested in various stages of dishabille, and talked the exciting scenes over.  “They have been shamefully left in the lurch; they were going to have this affair a demoralizing dissipation from first to last, unworthy of the spirit of Chautauqua.  And if more solemn, or more searching, or more effective preaching could be crowded into an afternoon than has been done here, I should like to be shown how.  What do you think of your choice of entertainments, Eurie?  You thought it would be safe to attend the president’s reception, you remember.”

“I don’t tell all I think,” Eurie answered, and then she went out among the trees.

Truth to tell, Eurie had heard that from which she could not get away.  Dr. Vincent’s words were still sounding, “you are invited to come to Jesus and be saved; you are invited to come now.”  There had been nothing to dissipate that impression, everything to deepen it, and the thought that clung and repeated itself to her heart was that plaintive wail: