to kindle a flame, and they would begin to cry aloud for mercy
forthwith. I have seen a whole school of more than a hundred children
like this at the same time. An awakening of such a character was
generally a token of the beginning of a work of God, which would last in
power for four or five weeks, if not more; then the quiet, ordinary work
would go on as before. Sometimes, for no accountable reason, we saw the
church thronged with a multitude of people from various parts, having no
connection with one another, all equally surprised to see each other;
and the regular congregation more surprised still to see the unexpected
rush of strangers. After a time or two we began to know the cause, and
understood that the coming together of the people was by the Spirit of
the Lord, and so we prepared accordingly, expecting a revival to follow.

On these occasions it was very easy to preach, or pray, or sing; we had
only to say, "Stay here, or go to the schoolroom;" "Stand and sing;" or,
"Kneel and pray;" and it was done at once: such was the power of the
Spirit in melting the hears of the people into entire submission for the
time.


CHAPTER 9

The Visitor, 1851.

In the midst of these things, we had a scene quite characteristic of
Cornwall, which was the funeral of my late gardener and friend, John
Gill. This man's conversion, it will be remembered, was the event by
which it pleased God to bring my religious state to a crisis. After my
sudden exit from John's cottage, which I have already described, he
continued to pray for me, as he said he would, until the following