There was always at least one good sermon,--this floral homily.

There was at least one good prayer,--that brief space when all were silent, after the manner of the Friends at their devotions.
Here, too, Iris found an atmosphere of peace and love.

The same gentle, thoughtful faces, the same cheerful but reverential spirit, the same quiet, the same life of active benevolence.

But in all else how different from the Church of Saint Polycarp! No clerical costume, no ceremonial forms, no carefully trained choirs.

A liturgy they have, to be sure, which does not scruple to borrow from the time-honored manuals of devotion, but also does not hesitate to change its expressions to its own liking.
Perhaps the good people seem a little easy with each other;--they are apt to nod familiarly, and have even been known to whisper before the minister came in.