chaplain were not worth looking at--and, in those days,
I fancy parsons were very inferior even to what they
are now."

For a few moments she was unanswered. Fanny coloured
and looked at Edmund, but felt too angry for speech;
and he needed a little recollection before he could say,
"Your lively mind can hardly be serious even on serious subjects.
You have given us an amusing sketch, and human nature
cannot say it was not so. We must all feel _at_ _times_
the difficulty of fixing our thoughts as we could wish;
but if you are supposing it a frequent thing, that is to say,
a weakness grown into a habit from neglect, what could
be expected from the _private_ devotions of such persons?
Do you think the minds which are suffered, which are
indulged in wanderings in a chapel, would be more collected
in a closet?"

"Yes, very likely. They would have two chances at least
in their favour. There would be less to distract the
attention from without, and it would not be tried so long."

"The mind which does not struggle against itself under
_one_ circumstance, would find objects to distract it
in the _other_, I believe; and the influence of the place
and of example may often rouse better feelings than are
begun with. The greater length of the service, however,
I admit to be sometimes too hard a stretch upon the mind.
One wishes it were not so; but I have not yet left
Oxford long enough to forget what chapel prayers are."