Description Of A Tent Service
DESCRIPTION OF A TENT SERVICE
After supper in the men's department of the Bible Institute, about 100 men are on their knees for a few minutes. Brief, burning, pointed prayers ascend. God is counted on to stand by them in their work. Then, rising, they scatter to mission and tent, going in some cases four, five, and even six miles, each with his Bible and little package of tracts, those containing plenty of Scripture being preferred. Meanwhile, in the Ladies' Home, fifty young women have been making similar preparations. One party is going to the big tent on Milwaukee Avenue, where Mr. Schiverea is holding meetings. On the street cars no time is lost. A young woman opposite speaks to the tired shop-girl at her side, opens her Bible, and points her to Him who said, "Come unto Me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest;" but the girl must get off at the next block. She slips the tract "God's Word to You," into her hand with a kind pressure, and asks her to read it. A pleasant smile, and a Good Night, and the seed is sown. Meanwhile, the young men are not idle. A tract is handed to a fellow-passenger - a kind Word is spoken - and soon they, too, are talking of that wonderful Savior. A man on the platform has secured the attention of the conductor, who seemed under conviction. But we have reached our destination, and step from the cars.
Before us is the tent, brilliantly lighted. We enter, and overhead is a great arch of canvass, supported by three center-poles and smaller ones about the sides
- an auditorium accommodating 1,300 people, and seated with canvas benches.
The little party kneel in prayer for the presence and power of the Holy Spirit. Then some take their places upon the platform, to sing the Gospel, some stand ready to welcome and seat the audience, and others go out upon the streets, with cards of invitation to bring in the passers-by.
From our seat on the platform we watch the audience come in. First, a hesitating group of ragged little ones, then some young "toughs," with mischief in their faces are passed from one usher to another, who will keep his eye upon them. Next a mother with a baby in her arms, a laboring man in gingham shirt and no collar, fathers and mothers with their little ones so they gather - largely an audience of respectable working people, for this is the character of the neighborhood; but the "tough" element is not wanting. The blue coat of a policeman seen at the door makes it easy to preserve order. The police of Chicago have proved good friends of this work, and some of their hearts have been found tender as well as brave.