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Updated: June 24, 2025
"Good God, Arkwright," the senator exclaimed angrily, pulling his hand away; "don't talk like a hymn-book, and don't make another scene. What you ask is impossible. Tell me what I can do to help you in any other way, and " "Come," repeated the young man firmly. "The world may judge you by what you do to-night."
The bookbinder and his wife went about hand in hand when they set out for the meeting of some religious society. But at home they fought, and in chapel, as they sat together and sang out of the same hymn-book, they would secretly pinch one another's legs. "Yes," people used to say, "such a nice couple!" But the town couldn't throw dust in Pelle's eyes; he knew a thing or two.
To Pete's solitary hut, too, where he was struggling to learn to read well, and where a hymn-book would be the greatest comfort to him. The girl came in at the minute. "Margaret," I said, "I have got you a warm gown and a good thick warm cloak, to-day." "A cloak! Miss Daisy " Margaret's lips just parted and showed the white beneath. "Yes. I saw you were not warm in that thin shawl."
Helen, with the shadows of the leaves playing across her hymn-book, leaned against the high back of the pew behind her, and sang in a strong, sweet voice, rejoicing in the rolling old tune of "Greenland's icy mountains."
My father bared his head and opened the hymn-book; the rest of us, bareheaded too, ranged ourselves beside him; and so we stood facing the mob while the verses were sung in comparative quiet. The words might be provocative, but few heard them. The tune commanded an audience, as in Cornwall a tune usually will. The true secret of the spell, however, lay in my father's presence and bearing.
Among the foremost was Sainte Aldegonde, poet, orator, hymn-book maker, burgomaster, lawyer, polemical divine now armed to the teeth and cheering on his men, in the very thickest of the fight. The diversion was successful, and Sainte Aldegonde gallantly drove the Spaniards quite off the field. The whole combined force from Antwerp and Zeeland now effected their landing.
I shared more or less the prevailing prejudices against the persecuted race. I used to read in my hymn-book, I hope I quote correctly, "See what a living stone The builders did refuse! Yet God has built his church thereon, In spite of envious Jews." I grew up inheriting the traditional idea that they were a race lying under a curse for their obstinacy in refusing the gospel.
His vanity is touched. He sees you mean that you don't like to hear him bellow: and next Sunday you will observe that he shuts up his hymn-book in dudgeon, and will not sing at all. Leave the blockhead to himself Do not set yourself to stroke down his self-conceit: he knows quite well he is doing wrong: there is neither sense nor honesty in what he does.
"My dear Ellen, if you are in earnest, you will not try in vain. He never yet failed any that sincerely sought him. Have you a Bible?" "Oh yes Sir! a beautiful one; Mamma gave it to me the other day." He took the hymn-book from her hand, and turning over the leaves, marked several places in pencil.
Good gracious, Bräsig, what have you got to do with my hymn-book? Just put it down, will you. You never read such things, you are nothing but an old heathen. These are hymns for the dying, and what are hymns for the dying to you? You are going to live for ever. You're not a whit better than the wandering Jew!
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