Austen Said:

thought it an excellent plan, and had it at her tongue's end, and was on the point of proposing it, when Mrs. Grant spoke.

"As there are five of you, it will be better that one should sit with Henry; and as

you were saying lately that

you wished you could drive,

Julia, I think this will be a good opportunity for you to take a lesson."

"her view of the country was charming, she wished they could all see it,"

"Here is a fine burst of country. I wish you had my seat, but I dare say you will not take it, let me press you ever so much;"

"those woods belonged to Sotherton,"

"she believed that it was now all Mr. Rushworth's property on each side of the road,"

"it was a sort of building which she could not look at but with respect,"

"Now, where is the avenue? The house fronts the east, I perceive. The avenue, therefore, must be at the back of it. Mr. Rushworth talked of the west front."

Mrs. Rushworth proposed that

the chaise should be taken also;

Her next proposition, of

shewing the house to such of them as had not been there before,

"Now,"

"we are coming to the chapel, which properly we ought to enter from above, and look down upon; but as we are quite among friends, I will take you in this way, if you will excuse me."

"I am disappointed,"

"This is not my idea of a chapel. There is nothing awful here, nothing melancholy, nothing grand. Here are no aisles, no arches, no inscriptions, no banners. No banners, cousin, to be 'blown by the night wind of heaven.' No signs that a 'Scottish monarch sleeps below.'"

"It was foolish of me not to think of all that; but I am disappointed."

"This chapel was fitted up as you see it, in James the Second's time. Before that period, as I understand, the pews were only wainscot; and there is some reason to think that the linings and cushions of the pulpit and family seat were only purple cloth; but this is not quite certain. It is a handsome chapel, and was formerly in constant use both morning and evening. Prayers were always read in it by the domestic chaplain, within the memory of many; but the late Mr. Rushworth left it off."

"Every generation has its improvements,"

"It is a pity,"

"that the custom should have been discontinued. It was a valuable part of former times. There is something in a chapel and chaplain so much in character with a great house, with one's ideas of what such a household should be! A whole family assembling regularly for the purpose of prayer is fine!"

"Very fine indeed,"

"It must do the heads of the family a great deal of good to force all the poor housemaids and footmen to leave business and pleasure, and say their prayers here twice a day, while they are inventing excuses themselves for staying away."

"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."

"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."

"Do look at Mr. Rushworth and Maria, standing side by side, exactly as if the ceremony were going to be performed. Have not they completely the air of it?"

"If he would give her away?"

"Upon my word, it is really a pity that it should not take place directly, if we had but a proper licence, for here we are altogether, and nothing in the world could be more snug and pleasant."

"If Edmund were but in orders!"

"My dear Edmund, if you were but in orders now, you might perform the ceremony directly. How unlucky that you are not ordained; Mr. Rushworth and Maria are quite ready."

"How distressed she will be at what she said just now,"

"Ordained!"

"what, are you to be a clergyman?"

"If I had known this before, I would have spoken of the cloth with more respect,"

"Suppose we turn down here for the present,"

"Here are the greatest number of our plants, and here are the curious pheasants."

"James,"

"I believe the wilderness will be new to all the party. The Miss Bertrams have never seen the wilderness yet."

"This is insufferably hot,"

"Shall any of us object to being comfortable? Here is a nice little wood, if one can but get into it. What happiness if the door should not be locked! but of course it is; for in these great places the gardeners are the only people who can go where they like."

"So you are to be a clergyman, Mr. Bertram. This is rather a surprise to me."

"Very true; but, in short, it had not occurred to me. And you know there is generally an uncle or a grandfather to leave a fortune to the second son."

"But why are you to be a clergyman? I thought that was always the lot of the youngest, where there were many to chuse before him."

"Never is a black word. But yes, in the never of conversation, which means not very often, I do think it. For what is to be done in the church? Men love to distinguish themselves, and in either of the other lines distinction may be gained, but not in the church. A clergyman is nothing."

"You assign greater consequence to the clergyman than one has been used to hear given, or than I can quite comprehend. One does not see much of this influence and importance in society, and how can it be acquired where they are so seldom seen themselves? How can two sermons a week, even supposing them worth hearing, supposing the preacher to have the sense to prefer Blair's to his own, do all that you speak of? govern the conduct and fashion the manners of a large congregation for the rest of the week? One scarcely sees a clergyman out of his pulpit."

"The metropolis, I imagine, is a pretty fair sample of the rest."

"Certainly,"