" nUMFBACKINQ'' AT VAU VAU, 247 



least know what was coming; the notices on the bills 

 did not mean anything to me ; but I paid my shilling, and 

 went up into the gallery. I had hardly edged myself 

 into a corner by the refreshment- stall, when a great 

 breaker of sound caught me, hurled me out of time, 

 thought, and sense in one intolerable ecstasy — "For 

 unto us a Child is born ; unto us a Son is given " — again 

 and again — billows and billows of glory. 1 gasped for 

 breath, shook like one in an ague fit ; the tears ran 

 down in a continuous stream ; while people stared 

 amazed at me, thinking, I suppose, that I was another 

 drunken sailor. Well, I was drunk, helplessly intoxi- 

 cated, but not with drink, with something Divine, 

 untenable, which, coming upon me unprepared, simply 

 swept me away with it into a heaven of delight, to which 

 only tears could testify. 



But I am in the bush, whimpering over the tones of 

 ** Hollingside." As soon as I had pulled myself together 

 a bit, we went on again in the direction of the sound. 

 Presently we came to a large clearing, in the middle of 

 which stood a neat wooden, pandanus-thatched church. 

 There were no doors or windows to it, just a roof supported 

 upon posts, but a wide verandah ran all round, upon 

 the edge of which we seated ourselves ; for the place was 

 full — full to suffocation, every soul within miles, I should 

 think, being there. No white man was present, but the 

 Bfrvice, which was a sort of prayer-meeting, went with 

 a swing and go that was wonderful to see. There was 

 no perfunctory worship here ; no one languidly enduring 

 it because it was " the right sort of thing to show up at, 

 you know ; " but all were in earnest, terribly in earnest. 

 When they sang, it behoved us to get away to a little 

 distance, for the vigour of the voices, unless mellowed 

 by distance, made the music decidedly harsh. Every 



