In the eastern part of the country, in the last year of the eighteenth century, a remarkable revival spread from hamlet to hamlet, from town to town, but the tidal wave of religion was not long confined to that section. It quickly flowed westward and southward. Kentucky and Tennessee, which were then attracting many home seekers, were especially affected by the wave of religious enthusiasm that swept with resistless power all over the United States. Veritable cyclonic centers of religious forces appeared at the same time in many parts of the country, north, south, east and west. Everywhere the power was seen and felt. Escape from its overwhelming presence was impossible. “The great revival” was the universal subject of conversation, and of wonder. Wherever a few houses were clustered together, wherever a single pioneer’s hut arose in the wilderness, there would soon be tethered the horse of the itinerant preacher. An apt illustration of this truth is given in an anecdote related by Dr. Abel Stevens, the historian of Methodism. An itinerant preacher once hailed one of these solitary pioneers, and asked permission to preach in his cabin. “What,” exclaimed the astonished pioneer, “are you here, too? I lived in Virginia and a Methodist preacher came along and my wife got converted. I fled into North Carolina, where I had hardly got settled before another preacher came along and part of my family were converted. I went to Kentucky, and they followed me there, but I thought this time I would get beyond their reach. And now I have hardly got to this settlement till here comes another preacher, wanting to preach right in my cabin.” “My friend,” said the itinerant, “I advise you to make terms of peace with the Methodist preachers, for you will find them everywhere you go in this world. And when you die, if you go to Heaven, you will find plenty of them there, and if you go to hell, as you will if you don’t repent, I fear you will find some of them there, too!” The pioneer thought it best to surrender. In this great religious outburst, strict denominationalism was swallowed up, and lost to sight. The discussion of mere creeds was forgotten in the deeper demonstration of true Christianity. In the Southern States, more particularly in Kentucky and Tennessee, the movement was particularly strong. The sturdy Scotch-Irish element which was there in force, came together at the meetings with skeptics, and non-professors of all shades and degrees. All-day services were held on week days as well as on Sundays. Throngs gathered from far and near, until their numbers became so great that no building could shelter them. Still there was no thought of camping on the spot. After the conclusion of each service, the people sought their respective stopping places remaining there until time for the next meeting.