INVERARAY, Sunday, September 20th, 1874.
—I had my first experience of a Scotch kirk. Lifeless and dull and dead—a very frame of dry-bones it was to me! and I can't get over my amazement at such services being the food of so much religious life, as no doubt they are in this country. Two chapters in the Bible, and the fine old rolling tunes to which they sang the rough metrical Psalms, and "Sun of my soul," with which we ended (at noon!) were the only comforts.
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