God’s saints in black, gray-haired and patient “Uncle Aleck,” who had mourned and prayed over his unbelieving master. “Uncle Aleck,” he said to him one day, “why do you believe in a book you can’t read, and in a God you never saw? I have thousands of books in my library, yet I care nothing for religion.” Uncle Aleck’s only reply was to put his hand on his heart and say: “Marse John, I’ve been true and faithful to you all these years, ain’t I, marster?” “Yes.” “And I never lied to you or disobeyed you, has I, Marse John?” “No.” “Then, marster, it’s my religion that has made me what I am. I can’t read, I can’t see God, but I know the Lord Jesus Christ here in my heart.” Drawn by some spell he could not resist, the great lawyer came to the old camp ground and heard the awfully solemn message of the preacher with bowed head and heart full of trouble. When the hymn was sung, “Come, humble sinner, in whose breast A thousand thoughts revolve; Come, with your guilt and fear oppressed, And make this last resolve,” I shall never forget the startled look of preacher and people as straight to the mourners’ bench sped the lawyer, crying in agony as he fell to the ground: “Send for Uncle Aleck!” And down in the straw white-haired old Aleck wrestled with God for Marse John, until a great shout went up from mourner and congregation as the master hugged the old darky and the darky hugged his master, saying: “I knew it was coming, Marse John.” You will pardon a man whose head is growing gray if at times the heart grows hungry to turn back and see and hear the old sights and sounds of God’s presence and power as revealed especially at the ancient and now nearly extinct camp meeting.