* * * It seems to me, sir, that, looking back over the days that
we have been gathered here, we have been lifted up, and I seem to
see to-day the prophecy of a grand increase and acquisition of
interest and helpfulness for this work. We have been inspired by
these grand addresses; we have been thrilled by them; we have been,
as it were, lifted above our ordinary thought and feeling; and
the work stretches before us in grand and inspiring invitations.
But what, sir, shall be the return we are to make for all we have
here enjoyed? What is to be the result of all this inspiration and
uplifting? What is to be the outcome of this anniversary? If we are
to go away simply rejoicing that we have been so richly blessed
in this fellowship and instruction, if we are to go away feeling
simply glad and grateful, have we met the claims of the hour?
I remember the story of a brother in the African Methodist church,
who, whenever the contribution box was passed, was accustomed to
shut his eyes and throw his head back and join in with all his
zeal and all his lungs in singing the song which was usually sung
on that occasion, “Fly abroad, thou mighty Gospel.” This went on
for several contributions, and then the deacon who passed the box
thought he detected an error in all that praising and singing, and
so he punched the brother quite pointedly with the box and said,
“Just you give something to make it fly!” If we merely have the
inspiration of this hour and it does not culminate in enlarged
gifts for the work, if there is not a vast enlargement of the work
upon the hands of this Association, this meeting will have been a
failure. It is to redeem it from that failure that this report and
these calls are now made.
You remember how it was when the war closed—you remember what an
inspiration swept over the land, and what enthusiasm there was
at the very mention of the freed slave. You remember how many
associations and philanthropic societies, and even the Government
itself, were enlisted in the work, and how their appeals thrilled
the multitudes. The picture held before us then was that of a
slave, from whose cramped limbs the broken manacles were falling.
We were enthusiastic then. But to-day the same picture of the freed
and suffering slave, and the same appeals, though with all the
worth they had in them then, are to us only the embellishments of
rhetoric. They have lost their force, and I am surprised at this
when I look upon the vastness of the work; for, with all these
years of our labor, the work has outgrown and overmatched our
efforts, and the demands upon us to-day are greater than at the
first. Every appeal made to justice then is as strong to-day; every
appeal made to philanthropy then is of equal force to-day; every
appeal to our enthusiasm then has in it just as much of power, even
if it is not felt, to-day.
* * * * *