[Letter from Mrs. Richard Stanton to her old friend, Mrs. Rollin Page, after an interview with Jesus in New York on the evening following the now historic scene in Wall Street.]

Dear Rachel:

I do not know whether I can in any real way describe the visit Richard and I had with Jesus last night, following the great scene in Wall Street about which I wrote you yesterday. It is all so amazing, this meeting with him, that we seem to be living in a dream.

Only, as I read the papers this morning, I realized how wonderful a fact it all is. All New York is stirred to its depths. Every one acknowledges that this person is Jesus. The Times declares his presence to be the greatest event historically in all the world’s history. The Tribune can find no parallel to his appearance, and says no one can predict the tremendous changes that may be made due to his appearance and preaching. The World declares his message yesterday in Wall Street was revolutionary and may lead to the most fundamental upheavals in financial methods. The Sun, in an editorial that covers the front page, announces a new standard of life has appeared—or rather, a new emphasis on the old standard—and predicts any number of radical redemptive forces to be set at work.

The main thing, of course, is that every one acknowledges him to be Jesus. There is no questioning of his person or his power.

The newspapermen have reason to feel awed at his power. So far, not one paper has been able to secure a picture. Attempts have been made to draw sketches. Some of them are printed in the morning papers. They are all a failure, by the consent of the newspapers themselves.

Other wonderful things are a part of all this, but to the mind of Richard and myself, nothing is so great about him as himself. How can we describe that? We can only say what we actually witnessed and felt.

When we reached the place of his abode, following the address he gave us yesterday, we found it was the poorest and worst tenement block in the city. We went up five flights of stairs and knocked at a door at the very end of a dark passage, and Jesus himself opened it for us.

When we went in, at first we could not distinguish anything clearly. But the first person we recognized was the man who had cried out, “God be merciful to me, a sinner!” And what do you think he was doing? He was seated at a small table by the side of the little Italian girl Jesus had held in his arms, actually trying to make artificial flowers like those the little girl had held in her hand while Jesus was talking!