It ran over the room, took note first of the numbers, then of individuals, marked who had been there before, who was a new-comer.

The audience fell into order and quiet before it as though a general had taken command.
He put his hands on his hips and began to speak without any preface, somewhat to the boys' surprise, who had expected a prayer.
The voice, as generally happens with a successful revivalist preacher, was of fine quality, and rich in good South Lancashire intonations, and his manner was simplicity itself.
'Suppose we put off our prayer a little bit,' he said, in a colloquial tone, his fixed look studying the crowded benches all the while.

'Perhaps we'll have more to pray about by-and-by....
Well, now, I haven't been long in Clough End, to be sure, but I think I've been long enough to get some notion of how you boys here live--whether you work on the land, or whether you work in the mills or in shops--I've been watching you a bit, perhaps you didn't think it; and what I'm going to do to-night is to take your lives to pieces--take them to pieces, an look close into them, as you've seen them do at the mill, perhaps, with a machine that wants cleaning.

I want to find out what's wrong wi them, what they're good for, whose work they do--_God's or the devil's_ ...

First let me take the mill-hands.