He then hummed the tuning-fork
note, and the octave below, the double bass screwed up and
responded, the leader with the tuning-fork boldly struck out,
everybody following, including the orchestra, and those of the
congregation who had bass or tenor voices sang the air. Each of the
instruments demanded a fair share of solos.
The institution strangest to me now was the Lord's Supper. Once a
month the members of the church, while they were seated in the pews,
received the bread and wine at the hands of the deacons, the
minister reciting meanwhile passages from Scripture. Those of the
congregation who had not been converted, and who consequently did
not belong to the church and were not communicants, watched the rite
from the gallery. What the reflective unconverted, who were
upstairs, thought I cannot say. The master might with varying
emotions survey the man who cleaned his knives and boots. The wife
might sit beneath and the husband above, or, more difficult still,
the mistress might be seated aloft while her husband and her
conceited maid-of-all-work, Tabitha, enjoyed full gospel privileges
below.
Dependent on the mother "cause" were chapels in the outlying
villages. They were served by lay preachers, and occasionally by
the minister from the old meeting-house.
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