“Are you a Ker-istian?”
“Of course, of course,” said the self-possessed business man.
The worker passed on, perfectly satisfied with the off-hand declaration. He repeated the question to the gentleman’s companion, who, possessed of less assurance, hesitated and humbly replied:
“I trust so.”
The worker immediately grappled the sensitive gentleman, much to his mortification, and it was some time before he succeeded in effecting his escape, regretting, doubtless, that he had not made as prompt and satisfactory a profession of faith as that of his companion.
The “inquiry meeting,” as the exercises toward the close were named, was continued until late in the afternoon. When the children were dismissed, they were instructed to beg their parents to come to Jesus—to entreat them, with tears if necessary, until they consented. A Presbyterian gentleman of the old school, describing his sensations after the meeting was over, said:
“I cannot deny that I was affected. I felt tears coming to my eyes—why, I could not tell. The effect, however, was entirely physical. My reason had nothing to do with it. It condemned the whole thing as merely calculated to get up an unhealthy excitement, which, even if not injurious, would be fleeting in its effect. I noticed some nervous women almost worked up into spasms. As to the children, they were goaded into a state of nervousness and terror which was pitiable to see. I can only compare my own condition to that of a man who had drunk freely. While the effect lasted I was capable of making a fool of myself, being all the while aware that I was doing so. Sunlight and air have dispelled the intoxication, and now nothing remains but nausea.
“I am disgusted with such claptrap, and ashamed of myself for having been affected by it, however temporarily and slightly.”
The progress made on the first Sunday of the revival was duly chronicled in the newspapers of the day following. It was announced that hundreds of children had been awakened to a sense of their sinful condition. A little girl—four years old—had recognized that she was thoroughly steeped in sin. She had had no idea of the condition of her soul until she was roused to it by Mr. Notext’s preaching. She was now perfectly happy. She had experienced religion. She knew she was forgiven. She had gone to Jesus, and Jesus had come to her. She had sought Mr. Notext’s lodgings, leading her father with one hand and her mother with the other.
Charley Biggs—the well-known drunken alderman—was among the converted. He had “got religion,” and was resolved henceforth to touch the time-honored toddy nevermore.