“That’s what I’ve been fishing for,” said Newgent. He began a revival at this time. Ere long the great, rough fellows who laughed so heartily at his jokes were crowding to the mourner’s bench, shedding tears of penitence, crying for mercy, and piercing the air with shouts of victory as one after another emerged into the light and liberty of God’s children. A marvelous work was wrought in that sin-polluted community. As the lives of these hardy backwoodsmen were transformed by the power of Christ, they became as potent for righteousness as they had been for evil. Just how many were converted could not be definitely ascertained. One hundred sixty-one members were added to the United Brethren Church, besides those that joined the other churches of the town.

There was an appointment some few miles from Dogtown named Liberty. It was practically dead as a church, there being but five names on the roll, and they represented very little in spiritual assets. He began a revival campaign here immediately following the meeting in town, which proved even more far-reaching in its results. He has always regarded it as the most remarkable revival in his entire ministry. The power of God in the conviction of sinners was irresistible. Strong men and women were stricken unconscious in almost every service. As many as fifty persons could be counted lying in an unconscious condition at one time.

A peculiar feature of this revival was the presence of that strange, nervous phenomenon among the people, known as the “jerks.” This strange manifestation prevailed in many of the early revivals where unusual power was displayed. It was especially prevalent in what is known as the great Cumberland revival which swept over the eastern part of Kentucky and Tennessee. Whatever the explanation of this phenomenon, it usually accompanied a deep emotional state, saints and sinners alike being subject to it. The mystery of it and the fact that it often became quite violent, especially on persons who resisted the influence of the meetings, gave it much weight in these early revivals. Peter Cartwright, in his well-known autobiography, describes the physical effects of the jerks as follows:

“No matter whether they were saints or sinners, they would be taken under a warm song or sermon, and seized with a convulsive jerking all over, which they could not by any possibility avoid, and the more they resisted, the more they jerked. If they would not strive against it and would pray in good earnest, the jerking would usually abate. I have seen more than five hundred persons jerking at one time in any large congregation. Most usually persons taken with the jerks, to obtain relief, would rise up and dance. Some would run but could not get away. Some would resist; on such the jerks were usually very severe.”

The meeting was accompanied by a variety of spiritual demonstrations, remarkable both in their character and extent. It was entirely beyond human control. It continued four months, day and night. Most of the time there was no preaching, for there was no opportunity for a sermon, and none was needed. The people would gather, singing and shouting as they came, and the singing, shouting, and praying would continue spontaneously. Penitents would go to the altar without an invitation, often as soon as they arrived.

The entire community was charged with a peculiar spiritual atmosphere, the limit of which seemed distinctly drawn. It was termed the “dead line.” On reaching this line the individual, whether a Christian or not, would at once be seized with intense religious emotion. On passing out of this region the change was as distinctly felt as on entering it.

So great was the interest in the surrounding country that six schools were closed. One teacher sent to the church for help. Some brethren went to see what was the matter, and found the entire school practically prostrate with conviction. School was turned into prayer meeting. A number, including the teacher, were converted, and school was indefinitely suspended.

The pulpit and platform were smashed into kindling wood at one of the services. People performed physical feats utterly impossible under ordinary circumstances, such as walking across the house on the backs of the pews with their faces turned straight upward. Late one night after the service had closed, a family in the neighborhood heard singing in the direction of the church. Not knowing what it meant, they investigated. But on approaching the church they noticed that the singing was overhead as if produced by an invisible choir in the upper air.

Whatever question may enter the mind as to the nature of these phenomena, there is no question as to the genuineness of the work of grace wrought in that section of country. It was swept as completely by the revival as a prairie is swept by fire. And the effects were abiding, even the more extraordinary forms of spiritual fervor continuing indefinitely.