“A church service can certainly never be called an amusement; but, from the variety of persons who were allowed to preach in the House of Representatives, there doubtless was some alloy of curiosity in the motives which led one to go there. Though the regular Chaplain was a Presbyterian, sometimes a Methodist, a minister of the Church of England, or a Quaker, sometimes even a woman, took the Speaker’s chair, and I do not think there was much devotion among the majority. The New Englanders, generally speaking, are very religious; but though there are many exceptions, I cannot say so much for the Marylanders, and still less for the Virginians.” Probably this comment on the worldly element entering into the meetings was called forth by their gradual degeneration into a social function. The hall came to be regarded as a pleasant Sunday gathering-place for friends who were able to see little of one another during the secular week. They clustered in knots around the open fireplaces, apparently quite as interested in the intervals afforded for a bit of gossip as in the sermon. The President was accustomed to attend from time to time; and possibly it was by his order that the Marine Band, nearly one hundred strong and attired in their brilliant red uniforms, were present in the gallery and played the hymn tunes, as well as some stirring march music. Their attendance was discontinued later, as their performances attracted many common idlers to a hall already crowded almost to suffocation with ladies and gentlemen of fashion, and thus increased the confusion. Partly as a result of this use of the hall, the habit of treating Sunday as a day for social festivities of all sorts reached a point where the strict Sabbatarians felt called to remonstrate. One, a clergyman named Breckenridge, preached a sermon denouncing the irreligious frivolities of the time, which created a great sensation. He addressed his remarks directly to Congress. “It is not the people,” said he, “who will suffer for these enormities. It is the Government. As with Nineveh of old, your temples and your palaces will be burned to the ground, for it is by fire that this sin has usually been punished!” And he cited instance after instance from Bible history, showing how cities, dwellings, and persons had been burned for disrespect of divine law. One day in the fall of 1814, after the British had left the city scarred with blackened ruins, Mr. Breckenridge was passing the Octagon house, when he was hailed by Dolly Madison from the doorway. “When I listened to that threatening sermon of yours,” she exclaimed, “I little thought that its warnings would be realized so soon.” “Oh, Madam,” he answered, “I trust that the chastening of the Lord may not have been in vain!”