dents, in First Half Century of
the Republic, by a Native Georgian.
Master William Mitten.

NED BRACE AT CHURCH.

(_From Georgia Scenes, first edition, 1835._[9])

[Ned Brace was a real personage, Judge Edmund Bacon,
born in Virginia, 1776, lived in Edgefield, South
Carolina, and died there in 1826. He was of very social,
hospitable nature, a practical joker, and, as Dr. Maxcy
called him, "a perfect Garrick" in his conversation. He
was a lawyer of great ability, and when very young and a
student at Augusta he was appointed to deliver an
address of welcome to Washington on his Southern tour.
If the following anecdotes are not true, they might well
have been, as Judge Longstreet says.]

This being the Sabbath, at the usual hour Ned went to Church, and
selected for his morning service one of those Churches in which the
pews are free, and in which the hymn is given out and sung by the
congregation, a half recitative.

Ned entered the Church, in as fast a walk as he could possibly assume;
proceeded about half down the aisle, and popped himself down in his
seat as quick as if he had been shot. The more thoughtless of the
congregation began to titter, and the graver peeped up slily, but
solemnly at him.

The pastor rose, and, before giving out the hymn, observed that
_singing_ was a part of the service, in which he thought the whole
congregation ought to join. Thus saying, he gave out the first lines
of the hymn. As soon as the tune was raised, Ned struck in, with one
of the loudest, hoarsest, and most discordant voices that ever annoyed
a solemn assembly.

"I would observe," said the preacher, before giving out the next two
lines, "that there are some people who have not the gift of singing;
such, of course, are not expected to sing."

Ned took the hint and sang no more; but his entrance into church, and
his entrance into the hymn, had already dispersed the solemnity of
three fifths of the congregation.

As soon as the pastor commenced his sermon, Ned opened his eyes, threw
back his head, dropt his under jaw, and surrendered himself to the
most intense interest. The preacher was an indifferent one; and by as
much as he became dull and insipid, by so much did Ned become absorbed
in his discourse. And yet it was impossible for the nicest observer to
detect anything in his looks or manner, short of the most solemn
devotion. The effect which his conduct had upon