The same evening he stood up in the schoolroom meeting, and told the people what the Lord had done for his soul.  There was great excitement that night, and well there might be, for every one knew what a daring and wicked man he had been.  One man said that “if a corpse had come out of the churchyard and spoken, he could not have been more frightened” (more surprised, he meant).

Old Billy’s conversion gave a new and fresh impetus to the work, and many more souls were added to the Lord.

This dear man lived for three months after this, verifying the words I was led to say to him at the beginning of our intercourse—­that the Lord was keeping him alive in order to have mercy upon him.  At the end of this time, his daughter came to me one morning in great haste, and said, “Father is dying, and does so want to see you.  Will you come?” I went immediately.  On reaching his house and entering:  his bedroom, his wife said, “You are too late; he is dead!” Softly I moved forward to the bed, and looking on that face once more, I thought that I could still see signs of life.  Pressing his cold hand, I spoke a few words about the loving kindness of the Lord.  He knew me, and a smile brightened his face at the precious name of Jesus.  While we stood silently round his dying bed, he said (evidently in reference to what he had heard), “not dead; just beginning to live.”  Thus, with a sweet, triumphant smile, he departed.

CHAPTER 13

Cottage Meetings, 1852.

Our steps were now directed to another part of the parish, where we commenced a series of cottage meetings in alternation with services in the church.  These meetings were inaugurated in a very remarkable manner, in the house of a man named “Frank,” who was well known as an exceedingly wicked and careless fellow.  His wife was among the fruits of the revival, and prayed much for him; but the more she did so, the worse he became.  I used to try and comfort her with the thought that if he did not give himself to God to be made better, it was well that he got worse, for it was a proof that her prayers were telling; total indifference would have been a far more discouraging sign.

This was poor comfort to her, however, for he came home night after night drunk; or if not so, swearing about the revival in the church, and her praying.  He often declared that if he ever caught me in his house, he would “give me something for myself.”  He was at all times a very irascible man, and being troubled with a wooden leg, it made him worse.  As he was unable to work in the mine, he was dependent for his support on the parish authorities, who employed him to break stones on the road.

Notwithstanding his bad temper and ill-feeling towards me, I always stopped at his heap of stones when passing, and talked to him either about the weather or some other trivial subject, being quite satisfied that he knew the plan of salvation, as I had spoken to him about his soul at the time of his wife’s conversion.