gathered, and the service was about to begin, heavy iron chains were
drawn tightly across the streets adjacent to the various places of
worship. It was the hour for serious meditation. No distracting noise
was to be allowed to fall upon those devout ears.

Abram C. Dayton, in his "Last Days of Knickerbocker Life," left a
description of the service at the Dutch Reformed Church of that day. He
told of the long-drawn-out extemporaneous prayers, the allusions to
"benighted heathen"; to "whited sepulchres"; to "the lake which burns
with fire and brimstone." Of instrumental accompaniment there was none,
and free scope was both given and taken by the human voice divine. Then
the sermon! Men were strong in those days! Clergymen had not become
affected with the throat troubles prevalent in later times. No
hour-glass or warning clock was displayed in the bleak spare edifice. In
the exuberance of zeal often the end of the discourse came only with
utter physical exhaustion. Then the passing of the plate; an
eight-stanza hymn, closing with the vehemently shouted Doxology; and the
concluding Benediction. From that old-time Sabbath day the affairs of
the world were rigidly excluded. It was a day of rest not only for the
family but for the family's man-servant and maid-servant. Saturday had
seen the preparation of the necessary food.

[Illustration: THE WASHINGTON ARCH. A SPLENDID SENTINEL GUARDING THE
APPROACH TO THE AVENUE. BEYOND, HOUSES DATING FROM THE THIRTIES OF THE
LAST CENTURY, THAT MARK THE BEGINNING OF THE STRETCH OF TRADITION]

On the Sabbath only cold collations were served. Public opinion was a
stern master. Woe betide the one rash enough to defy the established
conventions! The physician on his rounds, or the church-goer too aged or
infirm to walk to the place of worship, were the only ones permitted to