, or pray, or sing; we had
only to say, "Stay here, or go to the schoolroom;" "Stand and sing;" or,
"Kneel and pray;" and it was done at once: such was the power of the
Spirit in melting the hears of the people into entire submission for the
time.

CHAPTER 9

The Visitor, 1851.

In the midst of these things, we had a scene quite characteristic of
Cornwall, which was the funeral of my late gardener and friend, John
Gill. This man's conversion, it will be remembered, was the event by
which it pleased God to bring my religious state to a crisis. After my
sudden exit from John's cottage, which I have already described, he
continued to pray for me, as he said he would, until the following
Sunday, when he heard of my conversion. Then he praised God, and that
with amazing power of mind and body for a dying man. Day by day, as his
life was prolonged, he was eager to hear of the progress of the work.

At last the day of his departure arrived, and he was quite content and
happy to go. A large concourse of people assembled at the funeral,
dressed in their Sunday best. They gathered by hundreds in front of
John's cottage, several hours before the time fixed for the service.
During this interval they sang hymns, which were given out two lines at
a time. Then they set out for the church, singing as they went along.

In the West it is not the custom to carry the coffin on the shoulders,
but by hand, which office is performed by friends, who continually
relieve one another, that all may take part in this last mark of respect
to the deceased. At length, they arrived at the "lych" gate, and setting
the coffin upon the lych stone (a heavy slab of granite, put there for
the purpose), they sang their final hymn. At the conclusion of this, I
came out with my clerk to receive the funeral party and to conduct them
into the church. After the service I was about to give an address, when
I was told that there were more people outside than within the church.
In order, therefore, not to disappoint them, we came to the grave-side
in the churchyard, and from thence I addressed a great concourse of
people.

I told them of dear John's conversion, and of my disappointment and
distress on account of it; then of my own conversion, and John's
unbounded joy; taking the opportunity to enforce the absolute necessity
of this spiritual change, and the certain damnation of those who die
without it.

This funeral caused a solemn feeling, and as the peo