Cross, Jonathan; Evangelists -- United States -- Biography; Missions -- Appalachian Region
At night we had a meeting at Mr. D----’s. One half could not get into
the house. He had a son that was desperately wicked, and had done all
in his power to oppose the work of God. During the time of the service
he went out of the house in an agony of conviction for sin. The next
morning, at family prayers, he cried out in the bitterness of his
anguish, “God be merciful to me a sinner.” A sister of his, that had
been a very thoughtless girl, also cried out in great distress. This
seemed instantly to electrify the whole family. The place seemed awful
with the majesty of God. I felt as much of the divine glory as I could
bear. Such a scene I had never witnessed. Soon the whole family were
embraced in each other’s arms, rejoicing in hope of eternal life. We
seemed to be in the inner sanctuary and the most holy place. Although
near fourteen years have since passed, while I describe this scene it
fires my own soul afresh.
Though it was a hurried season of the year with farmers, work was
suspended, ploughs were stopped, white and black were in the church, or
as near in as they could get, as the church would not hold more than
half that came.
The Tuesday morning prayer-meeting was one of the best I ever attended.
At eleven the Rev. Mr. H---- returned, and preached one of the best of
sermons. In the afternoon I spoke again. There were thirty-six more
inquirers, and twelve more were indulging hope.
On Friday night I held a meeting at the house of a Dr. N----, who was a
man of the world. I spoke on the _broad road and wide gate_. The doctor
was awakened that night, and has ever since dated his first impressions
on religious subjects to that time; and two young men, one of them
since educated for the ministry, likewise dated their conversion the
same night.
At eleven the next morning Rev. Mr. H---- preached, and in the
afternoon Dr. McE----. At the close of this service, sixty-two were
added to the church on profession of their faith.
When the hour for public worship arrived on Sabbath morning, one half
could not enter the church. It was arranged that I should invite those
who could not get in to assemble out of hearing of the church and
preach to them. I selected the graveyard, where most of the graves had
enclosures of rails around and over them. The circumstance suggested
my text: “Man dieth, and wasteth away; yea, man giveth up the ghost,
and where is he?” I felt as I never did before, standing among the dead
and the living, and spoke as I never did before or since. Some of the
wickedest men in all the country were before me.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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