Thus we tell you of the first ingathering of sheaves from the harvest not yet fully garnered. Silently, as God’s greatest blessings always come, this favor has come to us. Seed scattered through many years by loving hands has, all unnoticed, been springing up. Sowing, pruning, digging about, preparing the ground to receive the watering of Divine mercy, has not been in vain. In answer to fervent, long-continued prayer, not with boisterous storm or rush of wind, but gently, the rich showers of blessing fell, “Not by might, nor by power, but by My Spirit, saith the Lord.” The awakening began in our day-school. Much seriousness seemed manifest during the week of prayer, when daily after-school meetings were held, and in connection with the labors of Mr. and Mrs. H. E. Brown, a few weeks later, in many hearts a settled purpose to serve the Lord found expression. The church and school, like twin-born sisters, go hand in hand. One can not be troubled and the other be unaffected; one cannot be blessed and the other remain unmoved. The work of grace went on, making the Sunday-school and all church services solemn seasons. Each night the place of prayer was crowded, many anxious to know the way of life or avowing their purpose to live for Christ, sometimes struggling through days of darkness to find the clear light from the sun of righteousness just beyond. Sweet always will be the remembrance of a morning greeting from a bright-faced girl of fourteen, as she waited at the school-yard gate. Her beaming countenance told the story even before the lips, which quickly uttered the glad words, “_I_ have found Christ at last! He has forgiven my sins!” Some among those who seemed the stoutest-hearted were the first to submit to Christ, while sadly we look upon others, who remind us of the young man whom Jesus loved, who seemed near the kingdom and yet took no step nearer. The joy it gives every new-born soul to welcome one after another to their newly-formed ranks has been beautiful to behold. A hopeful sign is that everyone seemed so ready, nay, so eager, to do some service in showing to others the path in which their own feet had just begun to tread. All love the place of prayer, and often spend the half-hour recess at noon in a prayer-meeting by themselves in the small library up-stairs. Some of tender years are as thoughtful in face and manner as the oldest ones. One in telling of her new-found love said, “I felt that I loved everybody, and if my arms had been large enough I thought I would like to take in the whole world;” and with eyes and voice full of tears, she begged prayers for her father, who had said, when she urged him to come to Christ, “I am too old.”