ded her affections.

The Church of Saint Polycarp had very much the look of a Roman
Catholic chapel. I do not wish to run the risk of giving names to the
ecclesiastical furniture which gave it such a Romish aspect; but there
were pictures, and inscriptions in antiquated characters, and there
were reading-stands, and flowers on the altar, and other elegant
arrangements. Then there were boys to sing alternately in choirs
responsive to each other, and there was much bowing, with very loud
responding, and a long service and a short sermon, and a bag, such as
Judas used to hold in the old pictures, was carried round to receive
contributions. Everything was done not only "decently and in order,"
but, perhaps one might say, with a certain air of magnifying their
office on the part of the dignified clergymen, often two or three in
number. The music and the free welcome were grateful to Iris, and she
forgot her prejudices at the door of the chapel. For this was a church
with open doors, with seats for all classes and all colors alike,--a
church of zealous worshippers after their faith, of charitable and
serviceable men and women, one that took care of its children and never
forgot its poor, and whose people were much more occupied in looking out
for their own souls than in attacking the faith of their neighbors. In
its mode of worship there was a union of two qualities,--the taste and
refinement, which the educated require just as much in their churches as
elsewhere, and the air of stateliness, almost of pomp, which impresses
the common worshipper, and is often not without its effect upon
those who think they hold outward forms as of little value. Under the
half-Romish aspect of the Church of Saint Polycarp, the young girl
found a devout and loving and singularly cheerful religious spirit. The
artistic sense, which betrayed itself in the dramatic proprieties of
its ritual, harmonized with her taste. The mingled murmur of the loud
responses, in those rhythmic phrases, so simple, yet so fervent, almost
as if every tenth heart-beat, instead of its dull tic-tac, articulated
itself as "Good Lord, deliver us! "--the sweet alternation of the two
choirs, as their holy song floated from side to side, the keen young
voices rising like a flight of singing-birds that passes from one grove
to another, carrying its music with it back and forward,--why should
she not love these gracious outward signs of those inner harmonies
which none could d