The Irish sketch-book . head when his reve-rence bowed, kneeling when he knelt, only threesteps lower. But we who wonder at copes and candlesticks,see nothing strange in surplices and beadles. ATurk, doubtless, would sneer equally at each, andhave you to understand that the only reasonableceremonial was that which took place at hismosque. Whether right or wrong, in point of ceremony,it was evident the heart of devotion was there: theimmense dense crowd moaned and swayed, and you THE CHAPEL. 243 heard a hum of all sorts of wild ejaculations, eachman praying seemingly for himself, while the serv
The Irish sketch-book . head when his reve-rence bowed, kneeling when he knelt, only threesteps lower. But we who wonder at copes and candlesticks,see nothing strange in surplices and beadles. ATurk, doubtless, would sneer equally at each, andhave you to understand that the only reasonableceremonial was that which took place at hismosque. Whether right or wrong, in point of ceremony,it was evident the heart of devotion was there: theimmense dense crowd moaned and swayed, and you THE CHAPEL. 243 heard a hum of all sorts of wild ejaculations, eachman praying seemingly for himself, while the servicewent on at the altar. The altar candles flickeredred in the dark, steaming place, and every now andthen from the choir you heard a sweet female voicechanting Mozart^s music, which swept over theheads of the people a great deal more pure anddelicious than the best incense that ever smoked outof pot. M 2 244 TRALEE. On the chapel floor, just at the entry, lay severalpeople moaning, and tossing, and telling their Behind the old woman was a font of holy water, THE CHAPEL. 24b up to which little childien were clambering ; and inthe chapel-yard were several old women, with tincans full of the same sacred fluid, with -which thepeople, as they entered, aspersed themselves- with alltheir might, flicking a great quantity into their faces,and making a curtsey and a prayer at the same time. A pretty prayer, truly ! says the parsons wife. What sad, sad, benighted superstition ! says theIndependent ministers lady. Ah ! ladies, great asyour intelligence is, yet think, when comparj^cl *^iththe Supreme One, what a little difierence. there isafter all between your husbands very best extemporeoration, and the poor Popish creatures! One is justas far ofi Infinite Wisdom as the other; and so let usread the story of the woman and her pot of ointment,that most noble and charming of histories; whichequalises the great and the small, the wise and thepoor in spirit, and shows that their merit
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