Sketches in Canada, and rambles among the red menJameson, Mrs. (Anna)
History
Sketches in Canada, and rambles among the red men
Jameson, Mrs. (Anna)
Indians of North America -- Canada; Ontario -- Description and travel
My business here being not to dream, but to observe, and this morning
being Sunday morning, I crept forth to attend the different church
services merely as a spectator. I went first to the Roman Catholic
church, called the Cathedral, and the largest and oldest in the place.
The Catholic congregation is by far the most numerous here, and is
composed chiefly of the lower classes and the descendants of the French
settlers. On entering the porch, I found a board suspended with written
regulations, to the effect that all Christians, of whatever
denomination, were welcome to enter; but it was requested that all would
observe the outward ceremonial, and that all gentlemen (_tous les
messieurs_) would lay aside their pipes and cigars, take off their hats,
and wipe their shoes. The interior of the church was similar to that of
many other provincial Roman Catholic churches, exhibiting the usual
assortment of wax tapers, gilding, artificial flowers, and daubed
Madonnas. The music and singing were not good. In the course of the
service, the officiating priest walked up and down the aisles, flinging
about the holy water on either side, with a silver-handled brush. I had
my share, though unworthy of this sprinkling, and then left the church,
where the heat and the smell of incense, _et cetera_, were too
overpowering. On the steps, and in the open space before the door, there
was a crowd of peasants, all talking French--laughing, smoking, tobacco
chewing, _et cetera, et cetera_. One or two were kneeling in the porch.
Thence I went to the Methodist chapel, where I found a small
congregation of the lower classes. A very ill-looking man, in comparison
to whom Liston's Mawworm were no caricature, was holding forth in a most
whining and lugubrious tone; the poor people around joined in sobs and
ejaculations, which soon became howling, raving, and crying. In the
midst of this woful assembly I observed a little boy who was grinning
furtively, kicking his heels, and sliding bits of apple from his pocket
into his mouth. Not being able to endure this with proper seriousness, I
left the place.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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