It was a very common remark among the people of other churches: “If you want to hear singing, get a lot of Brethren preachers together.” We had no organs or pianos in any of the churches, with skilled performers to lead the audience. To aid in getting the “pitch,” a “tunningfork,” or horn was used—a clever little device which every leader carried. But few of the brethren, however, understood the grammar of music. They had had no special training—but no difference; they could sing anyhow. They were not poets, but had the poetic touch. I have heard these men of God again and again sing until the audience was fairly entranced, and until the fire of joy was kindled to a flame in their own hearts. They were rivals of Israel’s shepherd king, and wrought things more marvelous than he, through the melodies they sang. While their music was not classical, it seldom failed to strike fire. The people liked it, and were charmed, encouraged, and, in a thousand instances, saved by it. Mr. Alexander, the great revival singer, has the right view of things. He writes: “Musicians often say to me, ‘Why do you not use classical music, above the style of gospel songs?’ I reply, ‘When you can show me similar effects following such high-class music in moving the hearts of men and women, I will use it fast enough. Until then I shall keep to gospel songs, which have a wonderful way of reaching everybody, because they touch the soul.” Volume, fervor, soul, enthusiasm, is what we want in all our church music. Away, forever, with that operatic nonsense which the artistic would introduce into our present-day religious services. What glorious revivals were promoted. Like cyclones they seemed, at times, to lay everything low in their course. How sinners wept and repented! How saints shouted aloud for joy! “Wild fire!” does some one suggest? May be it was; but it achieved wonderful results. The present ministry of the conference, with a great majority of the true and tried laymen who constitute the very backbone of the church, were converted in just such meetings; and it is quite likely that the leading ministers and laymen of every other conference in our Zion were converted under like circumstances. Call it “wild fire” if you will, but I would like to see a good deal more of it. A revival that arouses a whole community and brings fifty or a hundred, or perhaps two hundred into the kingdom, some of whom become prominent preachers of the word, while others become very pillars in the church, is not to be ignored or decried by those who are too slow and formal and dull to create a stir. Better have a little “wild fire” than no fire at all.