English fiction -- 19th century; Walker, Robert, 1710-1802
“I wish, sir, you had heard the way in which the giving out of the first
verse of this psalm was responded to by the congregation! There was no
praising GOD by deputy—no leaving this delightful part of the service to
a few women in pink bonnets, and men in well-curled locks, stuck up in a
gallery in front of a conceited organist, mincing GOD’s praise in softly
warbled tones, and ready to sing to-morrow with just the same zeal and
devotion in a Roman Catholic Chapel or an Italian Concert Hall, if they
are equally well paid for their professional services. No, sir! every
man, woman, and child sung for themselves, lustily, and with a right good
will. They sung the air in a minor key, as is always the case among the
inhabitants of mountain districts, perhaps because they learn to pitch
their notes to the echoes of their native valleys; but it had from that
circumstance a more solemn and devotional effect. It was taken up by
those without the doors with the same zeal as by those within, for all
knew the air as familiarly as their own names. Here was a strict
compliance with David’s precept, ‘Young men and maidens, old men and
children, praise ye the name of the LORD.’ The mighty sound rushed down
the vale of ULPHA like the bursting of a mountain cataract; nor, for
aught I can tell, was it checked in its onward course till it had scaled
the heights of the surrounding mountains, and died away at last, in a
gentle whisper, on the lonely summit of BLACK COMB! _Died away_, did I
say? Forgive me, sir, the lowly thought! Far higher than the cliffs of
HELVELLYN did that holy psalm ascend; nor stayed it in its upward flight
till it approached, as a memorial of sweet incense, the throne of
GOD—there to be heard again when earthly sound shall be no more!”
There was a single tear on the old man’s withered cheek as he said this,
and a twitching about the rigid muscles of his mouth, which showed that
his iron frame could still vibrate to the gentle recollections of his
youth. He paused in his narrative; and there was a solemn silence
between us of some minutes’ duration. At length he resumed—
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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