Interruptions of this
nature were unfrequent, and even the long practised and abstracted
minister paused, for an instant, ere he proceeded with the hymn, though
there was a suspicion current among the more instructed of his
parishioners, that the sonorous version was an effusion of his own muse.
The intruder was Whittal Ring. The witless young man had strayed from the
abode of his sister, and found his way into that general receptacle, where
most of the village was congregated. During his former residence in the
valley, there had been no temple: and the edifice, its interior
arrangements, the faces of those it contained, and the business on which
they had assembled, appeared alike strangers to him. It was only when the
people lifted up their voices in the song of praise, that some glimmerings
of his ancient recollections were discoverable in his inactive
countenance. Then, indeed, he betrayed a portion of the delight which
powerful sounds can quicken, even in beings of his unhappy mental
construction. As he was satisfied, however, to remain in a retired part of
the aisle, listening with dull admiration, even the grave Ensign Dudley,
whose eye had once or twice seemed ominous of displeasure, saw no
necessity for interference.
Pages:
475
476
477
478
479
480
481
482
483
484
485
486
487
488
489
490
491
492
493
494
495
496
497
498
499