THE COUNTRY. 137

ticulate cry rises and falls above the chant. It
is strangely unhuman, and so far as Christianity
is concerned, save only for that one word
"Jesus," it might be a heathen rite -in the heart
of an African forest.
 The preacher, who is the master of the cere-
mony, urges the mad minds into- greater fury


and greater joy. His scream or moan of denun-
ciation, hope, despair, ends always in a wail
without words; it is strangely like the cry of an