In a meadow, has just been entirely renovated; but as with some
English churches, the more closely a piece of old work is copied
the more palpably does the modern spirit show through it, so here
the opposite occurs, for the old-worldliness of the place has not
been impaired by much renovation, though the intention has been to
make everything as modern as possible.
I know few things more touching in their way than the porch of
Rossura church. It is dated early in the last century, and is
absolutely without ornament; the flight of steps inside it lead up
to the level of the floor of the church. One lovely summer Sunday
morning, passing the church betimes, I saw the people kneeling upon
these steps, the church within being crammed. In the darker light
of the porch, they told out against the sky that showed through the
open arch beyond them; far away the eye rested on the mountains -
deep blue save where the snow still lingered. I never saw anything
more beautiful - and these forsooth are the people whom so many of
us think to better by distributing tracts about Protestantism among
them!
While I was looking, there came a sound of music through the open
door - the people lifting up their voices and singing, as near as I
can remember, something which on the piano would come thus:-
[At this point in the book a music score is given]
