We praise Thee, O Jehovah!
In every trouble near;
"Jehovah Shalom"—God is peace,—
Dispels each doubt and fear.
We praise Thee, O Jehovah!
And, clothed in righteousness,
"Jehovah" great "Tskidkenu!"
Complete, we gladly bless.
We praise Thee, O Jehovah!
Thou wilt for Israel care!
"Jehovah Shammah," precious thought!
Henceforth "The Lord is there."
We sang sitting. Oh, inharmonious howl! Some Brother—usually Brother Schulz, who was fancied to possess musical talent—pitched the key and set the time as he fancied. The latter was always funereally slow, the former more often than not much too high or too low to be persevered with. Not that that mattered. Somebody would merely switch off into another key anything from a semitone to an octave higher or lower as the case might be: switching part of the way back again if the change proved too drastic. The consequence of this go-as-you-please policy was that a hymn would sometimes be sung in four different times and seven or eight different keys. Above all the holy din you could hear Brother Briggs bawling forth his joy in the Lord; higher still the awful metallic howl of Sister Yeo.
When the hymn was done there was another space of complete silence till the spirit moved Brother Quappleworthy to utterance. Once on his feet, he found his two Bibles, English and Greek, rather difficult to wield, especially as his reading from the Word hardly ever consisted of one solid chapter read straight through, but of snippets of two or three verses each from half-a-dozen different books, connected only by their (imagined) relevance to the topic he had in mind: grace or trustfulness or hope or sin. We all followed him in our own Bibles: so that his Reading had orchestral accompaniment of zealous page-rustlings. "Let us read together in the Book of Genesis, that sixth chapter and those fifth, sixth and seventh verses ... and now let us turn to the Book of Job, the fifth chapter and the thirteenth verse ... and now a verse in that sweet Second Epistle of Peter, the second chapter and that fourth verse...."
After we had rustled backwards and forwards for a few minutes, Brother Quappleworthy closed first one Bible and then the other with two emphatic snaps, and put them under his left arm, leaving his right hand free to gesticulate,—more especially the right forefinger, which ever and anon he brandished to exhort, to emphasize, to warn, to wheedle. "Well, brethren, the upshot and outcome of all that we have read is—ah—manifest. It is—ah—this. He alone saved us from the pit. He alone, not—ah—another. He saved us—miserable sinners, grovelling worms—us and none others. Far be it from us ever to think ourselves worthy of such grace and favour! Far otherwise!—but so He willed. Our souls—your soul, ah, my soul—would have gone into eternal darkness save for Him, the Lord,—Κὑρiοϛ [Greek: Kyrios]—how I love it in the old Greek! He alone, brethren, can—ah—renew our natures; and can—ah—shape better desires for our natures when renewed—can show us the more excellent way!..."
After a new silence, the spirit would move Brother Brawn to clamber to his feet, and give us his changeless utterance on "'Ell" or "Mysteries." I give it with a word for word accuracy I cannot often vouch for. His er-er was a bleating sort of stammer much less elegant than Brother Quappleworthy's ah.
"My mind, brethren, 'as bin—er—er dwellin' much all through the mornin' on the subject of 'Ell. On the torments and 'orrors that all the 'eathen and unsaved will taste down there below, yes, and are tastin' at this very minnit as we are praisin' the Lord 'ere in this Rume. Torments and—er—er—er—'orrors. You know. I know. And they torments are for all the sinners an' unsaved: ivry wan uv them, not for some jis', as I've 'eard folk say. No for all, all, ALL, A L L. You mark my words. All the 'eathen shall be 'urled to 'Ell, whether they've 'eard or whether they 'aven't!" (This last sentence he sing-songed with violent emphasis, clapping his hands together at the syllables I have marked) "O Yes! I can imagine 'em wallering in the brimstone and sulphur. I know. We shall be wi' Lazarus in Abraham's—er—er—bosom, and they will be down the fiery gulf, down in the fiery pit. So, brethren, let us be ready for the Lord, let us make sure uv our place in the bosom, not the pit. Bosom for us! BOSOM! We must watch and er—er—pray. We must. I'm sure we must."
A pause. He shifted his feet clumsily. His thick lips moved stupidly as he made mental preparations for Part Two.
"My mind, brethren, 'as been—er—er—dwellin' much on another subjict this mornin', the subjict of Mysteries. It has; I'm sure it has. There are two mysteries. There is the mystery of godliness, that's one; and the mystery of iniquity, that's two. It all 'appened at the Fall. The Fall was when the mystery of godliness became the mystery of iniquity; an' the mystery of iniquity became the mystery of godliness; all mixmuddled up together as you mid say. It became 'ard to-er—er—tell 'em apart. 'Tis only 'Is chosen ones as can do it—that's you and me, brethren—and 'tain't orwis easy for us. Let us try to know one from the other, and if we tries our 'ardest, the Lord will 'elp us to. Yes 'E will. I'm sure 'E will."