The minister had begun his discourse quietly and fervently; but as he spoke he became more animated. His voice was of a sonorous quality and of unusual capacity. As he drew near to the close of his address he was frequently interrupted by cries of "Glory, glory! That 's so! Oh, my soul! Poor sinners!" These ejaculations acted as stimulants to the preacher, and his voice now grew soft and thrilling, and again pealed forth like a trumpet-blast. As he repeated the line, "When we get to heaven we will part no more," his body began to sway rhythmically to the words, and he spread out his arms toward the people. At the signal the congregation took up the words and chanted them to the monotonous music of one of their simplest hymns,—
"When we git to heaben, we will part no mo',
When we git to heaben, we will part no mo'."
The music grew louder, and was accompanied by a gentle rapping of time with the hands and feet and a metrical swaying of the body. The old men and women in the front seats, the church dignitaries seated either side of the preacher, the younger people, who occupied the centre of the church, and the children and lovers, who lurked in the shadow near the door, all joined the chorus, swaying slowly from side to side with dreamy, sensuous faces,—
