" The novelty of the
circumstance, and its great dissimilarity to the ways and manners
of our own country, induced me to accept the invitation, and also
to record the visit here.
We were received with great attention, and a place was assigned
us on one of the benches that surrounded the little parlour.
Several persons, looking like mechanics and their wives, were
present; every one sat in profound silence, and with that quiet
subdued air, that serious people assume on entering a church. At
length, a long, black, grim-looking man entered; his dress, the
cut of his hair, and his whole appearance, strongly recalled the
idea of one of Cromwell's fanatics. He stepped solemnly into the
middle of the room, and took a chair that stood there, but not to
sit upon it; he turned the back towards him, on which he placed
his hands, and stoutly uttering a sound between a hem and a
cough, he deposited freely on either side of him a considerable
portion of masticated tobacco. He then began to preach. His
text was "Live in hope," and he continued to expound it for two
hours in a drawling, nasal tone, with no other respite than what
he allowed himself for expectoration. If I say that he repeated
the words of this text a hundred times, I think I shall not
exceed the truth, for that allows more than a minute for each
repetition, and in fact the whole discourse was made up of it.
The various tones in which he uttered it might have served as a
lesson on emphasis; as a question--in accents of triumph--in
accents of despair--of pity--of threatening--of authority--of
doubt--of hope--of faith.
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