were turned mechanically while the congregation (few of whom could read) sang with a will the hymns they knew by heart; the humble, devout people with their attentive faces.
When Holy Week came, the congregation begged her to hold special services.
They wished their young people to understand that these sacred days meant as much to them as to the surrounding Catholics
Accordingly she and her companion “dressed the little church with flowers.
It looked charmingly.
Flowers all along the railing [here follows in the Journal a penand-ink sketch], flowers in the pulpit over my head.
Church was crowded.
Many people outside and at the windows.”
She always remembered with pleasure one feature of her Easter
sermon, her attempt to describe Dante
's vision of a great cross in the heavens, formed of star clusters, each cluster bearing the name of Christ
“The thought,” she says, “that the mighty poet of the fourteenth century should have something to impart to these illiterate negroes was very dear to me.”
One of the party has an undying impression of this Easter
service: the shabby little chapel crowded with dark faces, and the preacher, standing touched by a ray of sunlight, speaking to that congregation of simple black people.
In her notes she speaks of these services.
A pastoral charge bringing me near to the hearts and sympathies of the people.
I have preached five times in the little church, including Good Friday and Easter Monday.
This service, which has not been without