arnestness asked prayer for their loved ones. While singing the
last song, the writer asked Brother Penn to remain and conduct a service
at night, which he positively refused to do, saying that he must go
home. Whereupon the writer publicly entered a protest against his
leaving. Sister Penn and others of the company from Jefferson
consenting, he agreed to remain one more day. At night the house was
crowded, and great interest manifested by Christians and by many
unconverted. A prayer meeting was announced for 9 o'clock the next
morning. At this meeting the house was well filled, with a decided
increase of interest. One or two conversions-and a number of inquiries
were made.

At the close of this meeting the writer said to Brother Penn, "You
cannot leave this meeting, it will never do, there never has been such
an interest in this town since I have been here." To which he replied "I
am bound to go home, I have no partner and no one to attend to my
business." The writer then arose, and in the name of the Lord Jesus
Christ entered another solemn protest against his leaving, saying: "I
believe before God that it is Bro. Penn's solemn duty to remain here and
carry on this meeting, and it is my firm conviction that if he leaves he
will commit the great sin of his life, and I call upon every member of
this church and of this congregation, who will join me in this protest,
to stand up." The entire congregation were standing in a moment. He then
said to the writer privately: "I tell you I am bound to go home; I
promised my wife yesterday that I would be certain to go home with her
to-day, and I know that she is bound to go home." The writer said: "Bro.
Penn, you are mistaken; Sister Penn would not have you leave this
meeting to go home with her. She will go with the young people." He then
went to where his wife was sitting and said to her: "I promised you
yesterday that I would go home with you to-day, and I am going to do
it." Sister Penn looked up in his face with tearful eyes and trembling
lips, and said, as only a true, noble hearted Christian woman could have
said: "I can go home with the young people, I do not think you ought to
go." This seems to have been the last hair that broke the camel's back.
We have seen many striking photographs of the Major as taken by artists
in his travels, and in various attitudes, but a picture delineating his
features on this occasion would be preferable to all others.

As he rose to respon