e was little brother Paal, the very best of aal, laid
down his life," etc. His use of biblical names was quite eccentric,
which caused the undevotional members of his audience to snigger
audibly. Without seeming to heed the irreverence, Jimmy pursued his
impassioned diatribe and smote unbelievers hip and thigh, in language
that was not conventional, or even relevant to the subject of his
discourse. The sniggering had developed into suppressed laughter, and
James suddenly stopped the even flow of his oratory, brought his giant
fist down on the deal table and sent everything flying. Ladies'
dresses were more or less damaged by candle grease; but the cooler
heads prevented an outbreak of panic by getting the candles relighted
and put on to the table. Then in reverent tones they asked the
preacher, who stood apparently unmoved, to proceed with the service;
so Jimmie gave out the verse of a hymn which he thought would be
suitable to the occasion. (Methodists always did that when the lights
went out or the preacher stuck.)

In the good old days, when village Methodism was quivering with
spiritual life, and pouring its converts into the cities and towns of
England to teach the simple gospel of the Founder of our Faith,
without any artificial fringes being attached to it, they were too
poor, and perhaps too conscious of the superiority of the real
God-given vocal capacity, to have anything to do with what many of
them believed to be artificial aids to religion. It was a fine sight
to see the leader of the songsters shut his eyes, clap his hands, and
with strong nasal blasts--which resembled the drone of the immortal
instrument that is the terror of the English and the glory of the
Scottish people--"raise the hymn," while, as the others joined in the
singing, the volume of sound swelled louder and louder, until the
whole congregation were entranced by the power of their own
performance.

I give the words of the verse which Jimmy asked to be sung. Here they
are--

"Come on, my partners in distress,
My comrades through the wilderness,
Who still your bodies feel;
Awhile forget your griefs and fears,
And look beyond this vale of tears
To that celestial hill."

This was sung with appropriate vigour over and over again. It is very
difficult to stop a real country Methodist when the power of song is
on him, and on occasions such as this they generally break off
gradually, until only one or two i