The rowers in many cases were women, the men lazily reclining
We had been informed that the Finnish church-going and service was a grand sight. At about eight
o'clock on Sunday morning, I climbed the rocks
above the post-house to have a survey, but little had
I anticipated what now burst upon my view. A
whole fleet of boats, forty or fifty in number, with
their white sails set, was bearing down the lake to the
church at Ruokalaks. From every creek they seemed
to drop out, and soon there was the number I have
named. In addition to these, there was a steamer
heavily freighted, and a number of boats propelled
by oars. The rowers in many cases were women,
the men lazily reclining, and smoking their long pipes.
The sight was magnificent in the extreme, and
reminded me of a fleet of fishing-boats leaving the
harbour-mouth. In the light of the language of
Scripture it might be said, 'Who are these that fly
as a cloud, and as the doves to their windows?'
And soon the road past the post-house was alive
with pedestrians, and peasants driving their swift
carrioles. Each carriole held two passengers. Every
cross-road seemed to furnish its contingent, and
by the time they were all assembled round the
church, their numbers must have exceeded one
thousand. The men were dressed mostly in grey
clothing. You would have said all the grey coats of
Cumberland were there. The women wore dark blue
dresses, with a scarlet border at the bottom, two
inches deep. Two kerchiefs covered the head, a white
one upon the hair, with a long pendant falling down
the back, and a gay-coloured one over it. Some of
them wore massive silver ornaments, as large as the
hollow of a saucer, on their breasts. They were all
cleanly and wholesome to look upon, and bore
manifest traces of hard toil and of the severe climate.
Many of them carried baskets of raspberries gathered
in the woods, to refresh themselves by the way,
and around the church-doors I saw several groups
reclining on the grass, and eating bread and fruit,
before entering the holy place to receive food for
their souls. The women all carried the Psalter and
Liturgy. Between two and three hundred carrioles
were tied up in the vicinity of the church, and the
whole scene forcibly reminded one like myself, of a Presbyterian Communion Sunday in the country, in
the olden time.
Hearing some plaintive singing
proceeding from the churchyard, I went there and
witnessed three funerals. One was that of a grown-
up person, the others were those of little children.
A huge pit had been dug in the sandy formation, and
two men going down into it by means of a ladder
received the three coffins, and placed them alongside
each other. Hundreds accompanied these funerals.
Who were the mourners it was impossible to tell.
No mourning-dress was worn, and no signs of grief
were visible. The Finns are not a demonstrative race.
The chant over, the pastor, dressed in black, and
wearing a white tie and bands, came to the edge of
the grave, and casting three wooden spadefuls of
sand on each of the coffins, repeated three sentences.
He then read several prayers, and after all had
said 'Amen,' in token of their submission to the
Divine will, and of their faith in the resurrection that
is to be, and a short silent prayer had been offered
up, the pastor leading, all quitted God's-acre, and
accompanied him to the church.
Taking their seats,
and, as in the Lutheran Church everywhere, the
women sitting apart from the men, the preparatory
service began. This consisted in the singing of a
Psalm, to a tune led by the clerk, who stood before
a desk in the front of the gallery, and was assisted
by a number of young men and women. This would
continue for twenty minutes, the church meanwhile gradually getting better filled. When the pastor, a
professorial-looking man, entered, the singing ceased,
and ascending the lofty pulpit of the huge church,
capable of holding two thousand people, he began
his part of the duty by reading prayers. The sermon
followed ; it was short, and read in an unimpressive
manner. During the delivery of this sermon, in a
monotone, I did not wonder at seeing a number of
the people fast asleep. They had been working hard
at harvesting all week, had come many miles that
morning, and on sitting down, an unusual thing with
these hard workers, in the church, were overcome
with heaviness. Who would lack the charity to say of
them, 'The spirit was willing, but the flesh was weak'?
Had the pastor 'delivered' his sermon instead of
reading it, and had he possessed a little of the
Boanerges fire, it is more than probable that he
would have had a more wakeful and attentive
audience.
At the close of the sermon the pastor
prepared to administer the Communion, and a
number repaired, according to the Lutheran custom,
to the communion-rail. All who had come to the
church, by no means entered it during this service.
Another was to follow, and those who were then standing and gossiping about the door were probably
waiting for it. One thing struck me very forcibly
as being different from our church usage. People
kept coming in during the whole of the service,
and a hum of undertoned conversation filled the church, which must have proved utterly distracting
and intolerable to any English preacher.
There is a law in Finland against Sunday trading,
but it seems to be a dead letter, for the three shops
in Ruokalaks were open, and filled with customers.
This Finnish trip was enjoyable and instructive to a
degree. It now only remained to make our way back
150 miles to St. Petersburg, which falls to be first
noticed in our second chapter.
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