For song is the speech of feeling. Even the prose of emotion always
wanders into the rhythmical. Hence, as well as for other reasons
belonging to its nature, it is one chief mode in which men unite to
praise God; for in thus praising they hold communion with each other, and
the praise expands and grows.

The _individual_ heart, however, must first have been uplifted into
praiseful song, before the common ground and form of feeling, in virtue
of which men might thus meet, could be supplied. But the vocal utterance
or the bodily presence is not at all necessary for this communion. When
we read rejoicingly the true song-speech of one of our singing brethren,
we hold song-worship with him and with all who have thus at any time
shared in his feelings, even if he have passed centuries ago into the
"high countries" of song.

My object is to erect, as it were, in this book, a little auricle, or
spot of concentrated hearing, where the hearts of my readers may listen,
and join in the song of their country's singing men and singing women.

I will build it, if I may, like a chapel in the great church of England's
worship, gathering the sounds of its never-ceasing choir, heart after
heart lifting up itself in the music of speech, heart after heart
responding across the ages. Hearing, we worship with them.

For we must not forget that, although the individual song springs from
the heart of the individual, the song of a country is not merely
cumulative: it is vital in its growth, and therefore composed of
historically dependent members. No man could sing as he has sung, had not
others sung before him. Deep answereth unto deep, face to face, praise to