The seats on the pulpit platform had been arranged by Maxwell so that Stanton should have one of them, but he invited up some visiting pastor from a nearby town, and just before Jesus came out, he went down himself to a seat in a pew next to the front row.

He did not notice until he was seated that Virginia was next to him. As he turned his face toward hers, Virginia smiled, then a shy look of pleasure passed like a faintest gleam through her eyes. And then, to each of them, it seemed as if the very presence of Jesus, as he came out into the church, brought with it a new definition of life in all its deep mystery and endless beauty and power.

What was the impression of that first great church conference held by Jesus? Long weeks after it was history, Stanton, reviewing it with Virginia, would come back to a few great facts.

First, there was the continued deep silence of the people, broken only now and then by an eager question. After that, the pervasive calm of that figure up there on the platform, so amazingly calm, so different from the splendid intensity he had shown at the University. It was a stupendous calm, unmatched for depth and confidence by anything they had ever seen. Then there was that thrill of power and love for the church which every minister present felt with the first word spoken. What! The church was a power in the world? Yes, truly, the greatest of all. The gates of Hell shall not prevail against it. No, the power of Death shall be of no avail. The church is the institution he loved. It shall abide forever. Through all the conference ran this deep, pulsating note of exultant victory.

Stanton caught himself more than once wondering when the figure up there would begin to denounce, to criticize, to call attention to the weaknesses and faults of ministers and people. What! No fault-finding, criticism, or sharp exhortation?

The words of Martha on that memorable night occurred to Stanton and to Maxwell as the hour swiftly went by: “He comforted us.”

Surely, the church needed that. It needed to be shown its greatness and its goodness. And he, the Master, the Christ, the Head of the church, was up there smiling, triumphant, revealing to that gathering of tired, discouraged, bewildered, and even self-satisfied pastors and people the grandeur of their call and the might of their heritage.

All this and much more passed into heart and mind. And at the close, in the deepening silence, while all hearts beat fast, what an appeal for union of life and labor on the part of all the different names of the church people. Always that appeal to the ministers and churches to come together somehow in his name. Would he not tell what was the first step? Love one another. That would prepare heart and mind for all other steps. But in the prayer that ended the conference, what winged angel was that speaking with matchless beauty in appeal to the Father?