for those who must attend early, for those who can't, for those who
won't, and for those who stir when the afflatus is upon them. There
are many, however, who are regular attendants, soon and late, and if
precision and continuity will assist them in getting to heaven, they
possess those auxiliaries in abundance.

The congregation attending on a Sunday is a mixed one--rags and
satins, moleskins and patent kids, are all duly represented; and it
is quite a study to see their wearers put in an appearance. Directly
after entrance reverential genuflections and holy-water dipping are
indulged in. Some of the congregation do the business gracefully;
others get through it like the very grandfather of awkwardness. The
Irish, who often come first and sit last, are solemnly whimsical in
their movements. The women dip fast and curtsy briskly; the men turn
their hands in and out as if prehensile mysticism was a saving
thing, and bow less rapidly but more angularly than the females;
then you have the slender young lady who knows what deportment and
reverence mean; who dips quietly, and makes a partial descent
gracefully; the servant girl who goes through the preliminary
somewhat roughly but very earnestly; the smart young fellow, who
dips with his gloves on--a "rather lazy kind of thing," as the
cobbler remarked when he said his prayers in bed--and gives a sort
of half and half nod, as if the whole bend were below his dignity;
the business man, who goes into the water and the bowing in a
matter-of-fact style, who gets through the ceremony soon but well,
and moves on for the next comer; the youth, who touches the water in
a come-and-go style, and makes a bow on a similar principle; the
aged worshipper, who takes kindly but slowly to the hallowed liquid,
and goes nearly upon his knees in the fulness of his reverence; and
towards the last you have about six Sisters of Mercy, belonging St.