When by degrees she had recovered consciousness, her glance was still fixed, but it seemed to me that it was directed rather inwardly than outwardly: she talked to herself in a low voice, and such a beautiful, blissful expression was portrayed in her countenance that I would willingly experience that which she then experienced, saw or perceived. It was no ordinary, no earthly scene. Her countenance was as it were transfigured. As soon as, after deep sighs, she had returned to her usual state, her appearance became usual also. But her demeanour was changed; she wept much, but calmly and silently.
The tornado gradually subsided in the church; shrieking and leaping, admonishing and preaching, all became hushed; and now people shook hands with each other, talked, laughed, congratulated one another, so heartily, so cheerfully, with such cordial warmth and good-will that it was a pleasure to behold. Of the whole raging, exciting scene there remained merely a feeling of satisfaction and pleasure, as if they had been together at some joyful feast.
I confess, however, to having been thoroughly amused by the frolic. Not so Anne W., who regarded that disorderly, wild worship with a feeling of astonishment, almost of indignation; and when our warm-hearted exhorter came up to us, and turning especially to her, apologised for not having observed us before, that it was with no intention to neglect us, and so on, I saw her lovely, coral-red, upper-lip curl with a bitter scorn as she replied, “I cannot see in what respect you have neglected us.” The man looked as if he would have been glad, with all his heart, to have preached to us, and, for my own part, I would gladly have listened to his Christian exhortation given with its African ardour. We shook hands, however, in the name of our common Lord and Master.
And spite of all the irrationality and the want of good taste which may be felt in such scenes, I am certain that there is in them, although as yet in a chaotic state, the
