‘But, Geordie,’ I remonstrated, ‘he doesn’t know anything of the doctrines. I don’t believe he could give us “The Chief End of Man.”’
‘An’ wha’s tae blame for that?’ said Geordie, with fine indignation. ‘An’ maybe you remember the prood Pharisee and the puir wumman that cam’ creepin’ in ahint the Maister.’
The mingled tenderness and indignation in Geordie’s face were beautiful to see, so I meekly answered, ‘Well, I hope Mr. Craig won’t be too strict with the boys.’
Geordie shot a suspicious glance at me, but I kept my face like a summer morn, and he replied cautiously—
‘Ay, he’s no’ that streect: but he maun exerceese discreemination.’
Geordie was none the less determined, however, that Billy should ‘come forrit’; but as to the manager, who was a member of the English Church, and some others who had been confirmed years ago, and had forgotten much and denied more, he was extremely doubtful, and expressed himself in very decided words to the minister—
‘Ye’ll no’ be askin’ forrit thae Epeescopawlyun buddies. They juist ken naething ava.’
But Mr. Craig looked at him for a moment and said, “Him that cometh unto Me I will in no wise cast out,”’ and Geordie was silent, though he continued doubtful.
With all these somewhat fantastic features, however, there was no mistaking the earnest spirit of the men. The meetings grew larger every night, and the interest became more intense. The singing became different. The men no longer simply shouted, but as Mr. Craig would call attention to the sentiment of the hymn, the voices would attune themselves to the words. Instead of encouraging anything like emotional excitement, Mr. Craig seemed to fear it.
‘These chaps are easily stirred up,’ he would say, ‘and I am anxious that they should know exactly what they are doing. It is far too serious a business to trifle with.’