f the matter was that that evening Carl conducted all the
musical services in the chapel.

The news soon spread abroad that remarkable music could be heard in the
Monastery, and the people flocked there from outside to hear it, and the
spacious chapel became crowded at even the everyday services. This new
organist improvised such harmonies as they had never heard before. And
this inspiration seemed to touch the faculty as each member of it took
his turn in conducting the services. Bishop Albertson preached as never
before. He seemed to almost ignore his notes as he talked to the people,
and the people in turn manifested a devoutness never witnessed before by
a Monastery congregation. Dr. Ezra Day had ever been a favorite, but the
present hour brought him a far greater degree of popularity. The veteran
Dr. Peregrine Worth also preached as never before. Indeed, everything
seemed to receive new life; the old monotony had departed; something new
had come. What was it? Was this what the Methodists called a revival?

So marked and intense was this feeling that a meeting of the faculty and
trustees was called. Was this a modern Pentecost? So Worth said; so
Cummings thought. A great meeting was held for consultation and the
people were publicly invited. Everyone declared a church should be
organized. The bishop was in favor of this, and at the proper time one
hundred and eighteen persons presented themselves as candidates for
confirmation. Up to this time what was known as Monastery was simply a
scientific and theological seminary. Its faculty was composed of educated
clergymen. It was a college with a bishop as president, supported by the
church at large and the products of the farm, having a board of trustees
to hold and manage the estate according to the laws of the commonwealth.
Now it was to become an organized parish church and, in addition, the
center of a diocese. The bishop was to assume the duties of the rector,
with the members of the faculty as his assistants, and the trustees were
incorporated as the "Board of Trustees of Monastery Church and College,"
according to law. This was a new regime for Bishop Albertson, who, years
before, had been rector of a small parish in Virginia. Even at that time
he was a rigid churchman and a profound scholar, and because of these and
other qualifications he had unexpectedly been elevated to the episcopal
office. Soon after this well-merited promotion he had been earnestly
requeste