decorously in a
dim religious light. At the door of this edifice would halt the
carriages of Society, and its wives and daughters would alight,
rustling with new silk petticoats and starched and perfumed linen, each
one a picture, exquisitely gowned and bonneted and gloved, and carrying
a demure little prayer-book. Behind them followed the patient men, all
in new frock-coats and shiny silk hats; the men of Society were always
newly washed and shaved, newly groomed and gloved, but now they seemed
to be more so--they were full of the atmosphere of Sunday. Alas for
those unregenerate ones, the infidels and the heathen who scoff in
outer darkness, and know not the delicious feeling of Sunday--the joy
of being washed and starched and perfumed, and made to be clean and
comfortable and good, after all the really dreadful wickedness of six
days of fashionable life!--And afterward the parade upon the Avenue,
with the congregations of several score additional churches, and such a
show of stylish costumes that half the city came to see!

Amid this exquisite assemblage at St. Cecilia's, the revolutionary
doctrines of the Christian religion produced neither perplexity nor
alarm. The chance investigator might have listened in dismay to solemn
pronouncements of everlasting damnation, to statements about rich men
and the eyes of needles, and the lilies of the field which did not
spin. But the congregation of St. Cecilia's understood that these
things were to be taken in a quixotic sense; sharing the view of the
French marquis that the Almighty would think twice before damning a
gentleman like him.

One had heard these phrases ever since childhood, and one accepted them
as a matter of course. After all, these doctrines had come from the
lips of a divine being, whom it would be presumptuous in a mere mortal
to attempt to imitate. Such points one could but leave to those whose
business it was to interpret them--the doctors and dignitaries of the
church; and when one met them, one's heart was set at rest--for they
were not iconoclasts and alarmists, but gentlemen of culture and tact.
The bishop who presided in this metropolitan district was a stately
personage, who moved in the best Society and belonged to the most
exclusive clubs.

The pews in St. Cecilia's were rented, and they were always in great
demand; it was one of the customs of those who hung upon the fringe of
Society to come every Sunday, and bow and smile, and hope against