Before I had got
to the church door I was in a great sweat, and stopped in the porch to
fan myself. Inside 'twas cool enough, with a pleasant smell from the
cedar pews, but there was such a press of a congregation that many were
left standing. I had a good place just below the choir, where I saw the
Governor's carved chair, with the Governor's self before it on his
kneeling-cushion making pretence to pray. Round the choir rail and
below the pulpit clustered many young exquisites, for this was a
sovereign place from which to show off their finery. I could not get a
sight of Elspeth.
Doctor Blair preached us a fine sermon from the text, "_My people shall
dwell in a pleasant habitation, and in sure dwellings, and in quiet
resting-places!"_ But his hearers were much disturbed by the continual
chatter of the fools about the choir rail. Before he had got to the
Prayer of Chrysostom the exquisites were whispering like pigeons in a
dovecot, exchanging snuff-boxes, and ogling the women. So intolerable
it grew that the Doctor paused in his discourse and sternly rebuked
them, speaking of the laughter of fools which is as the crackling of
thorns under a pot. This silenced them for a little, but the noise
broke out during the last prayer, and with the final word of the
Benediction my gentlemen thrust their way through the congregation,
that they might be the first at the church door.
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