After the psalm was sung, the minister motioned the congregation to their seats, and without comment or suggestion, put before them the question that had been discussed in the pulpit. Was it their desire that the meetings should be continued or not? A deep, solemn silence lay upon the crowded church, and for some time no one moved. Then the congregation were startled to see Macdonald Dubh rise slowly from his place in the middle of the church. “Mr. Murray,” he said, in a voice that vibrated strangely, “you will pardon me for letting my voice be heard in this place. It is the voice of a great sinner.” “Speak, Mr. Macdonald,” said the minister, “and I thank God for the sound of your voice in His house.” “It is not for me to make any speeches here. I will only make bold to give my word that the meetings be continued. It may be that the Lord, who has done such great things for me, will do great things for others also.” And with that he sat down. “I will take that for a motion,” said the minister. “Will any one second it?” Kenny Crubach at once rose and said: “We are always slow at following the Lord. Let us go forward.” The minister waited for some moments after Kenny had spoken, and then said, in a voice grave and with a feeling of responsibility in it: “You have heard these brethren, my people. I wait for the expression of your desire.” Like one man the great congregation rose to their feet. It was a scene profoundly impressive, and with these serious-minded, sober people, one that indicated overwhelming emotion. And thus the great revival began. For eighteen months, night after night, every night in the week except Saturday, the people gathered in such numbers as to fill the new church to the door. Throughout all the busy harvest season, in spite of the autumn rains that filled the swamps and made the roads almost impassable, in the face of the driving snows of winter, through the melting ice of the spring, and again through the following summer and autumn, the great revival held on. No fictitious means were employed to stir the emotions of the people or to kindle excitement among them. There were neither special sermons nor revival hymns. The old doctrines were proclaimed, but proclaimed with a fullness and power unknown at other times. The old psalms were sung, but sung perhaps as they had never been before. For when John “Aleck's” mighty voice rolled forth in its full power, and when his band of trained singers followed, lifting onward with them the great congregation--for every man, woman, and child sang with full heart and open throat--the effect was something altogether wonderful and worth hearing. Each night there was a sermon by the minister, who, for six months, till his health broke down, had sole charge of the work. Then the sermon was followed by short addresses or prayers by the elders, and after that the minister would take the men, and his wife the women, for closer and more personal dealing.