"At any rate, it is safer to leave people to their own devices on such subjects. Everybody likes to go their own way-to chuse their own time and manner of devotion. The obligation of attendance, the formality, the restraint, the length of time-altogether it is a formidable thing, and what nobody likes; and if the good people who used to kneel and gape in that gallery could have foreseen that the time would ever come when men and women might lie another ten minutes in bed, when they woke with a headache, without danger of reprobation, because chapel was missed, they would have jumped with joy and envy. Cannot you imagine with what unwilling feelings the former belles of the house of Rushworth did many a time repair to this chapel? The young Mrs. Eleanors and Mrs. Bridgets-starched up into seeming piety, but with heads full of something very different-especially if the poor 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?"

"It is safer to leave people to their own devices on such subjects. Everybody likes to choose their own time and manner of devotion. The obligation of attendance is a formidable thing. Cannot you imagine with what unwilling feelings the former belles of the house came to this chapel? Starched up into seeming piety, but with heads full of something very different-especially if the poor chaplain were not worth looking at-and, in those days, I fancy parsons were 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 do you think the minds which are indulged in wanderings in a chapel, would be more collected in a closet?"
