d boy than John.

When the "revival" came, therefore, one summer, John was in a quandary.
Sunday meeting and Sunday-school he did n't mind; they were a part of
regular life, and only temporarily interrupted a boy's pleasures. But
when there began to be evening meetings at the different houses, a
new element came into affairs. There was a kind of solemnity over the
community, and a seriousness in all faces. At first these twilight
assemblies offered a little relief to the monotony of farm life; and
John liked to meet the boys and girls, and to watch the older people
coming in, dressed in their second best. I think John's imagination was
worked upon by the sweet and mournful hymns that were discordantly sung
in the stiff old parlors. There was a suggestion of Sunday, and sanctity
too, in the odor of caraway-seed that pervaded the room. The windows
were wide open also, and the scent of June roses came in, with all the
languishing sounds of a summer night. All the little boys had a scared
look, but the little girls were never so pretty and demure as in this
their susceptible seriousness. If John saw a boy who did not come to the
evening meeting, but was wandering off with his sling down the
meadow, looking for frogs, maybe, that boy seemed to him a monster of
wickedness.

After a time, as the meetings continued, John fell also under the
general impression of fright and seriousness. All the talk was
of "getting religion," and he heard over and over again that the
probability was if he did not get it now, he never would. The chance did
not come often, and if this offer was not improved, John would be given
over to hardness of heart. His obstinacy would show that he was not one
of the elect. John fancied that he could feel his heart hardening, and
he began to look with a wistful anxiety into the faces of the Christians
to see what were the visible signs of being one of the elect. John put
on a good deal of a manner that he "did n't care," and he never admitted
his disquiet by asking any questions or standing up in meeting to be
prayed for. But he did care. He heard all the time that all he had to do
was to repent and believe. But there was nothing that he doubted, and he
was perfectly willing to repent if he could think of anything to repent
of.

It was essential he learned, that he should have a "conviction of sin."
This he earnestly tried to have. Other people, no better than he, had
it, and he wondered why he could n't h