The Massachusetts Spy

[From the Portsmouth Journal.]

Mr. Editor—Some Legislatures make statutes that no civil officer shall arrest any person on Sunday. I have sometimes thought that the same law ought to extend to officers of the church, forbidding them to keep their congregation in duress on that day. I live in a small country village, and belong to a small congregation. the members of which are very well contented with each other and their clergyman. We are always glad to meet and greet one another on Sunday, when we contrive to be informed of what has been doing during the week, in our parish, as well as the rest of the world. Some, accordingly, collect for this purpose about the meeting-house steps before the service begins, and the bell frequently ceases tolling before their conversation is ended. In a fair bright day the minister generally seats himself in the pulpit, where he remains some time, turning over the leaves of his books and his sermon, and then looks about the congregation, and now and then turns his eye to the door by way of inquiring whether the news is told, and the groups broken up, and ready to join the worship. On the other hand, the talkers look in at every pause of the conversation to observe whether the minister has commenced reading the psalm. Meantime the fans are all in motion, and the dames are overseeing the demeanor of the damsels, while the damsels are spying out all the new dresses, and covertly prinking themselves. Now a new silk gown rustles up the aisle—presently a new pair of shoes creak through the gallery—the singers. one after another, give a hem to clear their pipes while the president of the bass-viol touches the strings softly, and screws his instrument into tune. If any stranger happens to be present, he is critically noted, and every one meditates the questions to be put, and remarks made, relating to him. after the service. Lover's eyes are searching out each other, and exchanging glances. By and by, little Billy, in crossing the pew to whisper to his mother, treads upon Fowler's tail, whereat he raises his voice in a lamentable expostulation. Madame Betty's Cupid is scratching at the pew door for admittance—and a child utters a shrill squall by way of demanding its mother's breast.
At length all is hushed except the indistinct echo of the conversation at the door, where the talkers are waiting to hear the minister say; "Let us begin the worship of God by singing" such a psalm or hymn. The minister is waiting at the same time for them to come in.—But when he and the whole congregation begin to be a little out of countenance, he breaks silence, the talkers pour in, and the service proceeds.
Now, as I have passed the age of boyhood, when the spirits are always alive, and the fertile mind supplies amusement on all occasions, by wondering at what occupies the senses at the moment, or devising and executing trivial mischief; and, as I do not find myself much interested in the news of the week, and can find opportunity in the intervals of the service to reconnoitre the assembly, this long prelude begins to be tedious to me. I do not believe our good minister will tire out the talkers, and I hope he will no longer keep the rest of the congregation in duress a quarter of an hour before every service, in making the experiment. I find the practice of a neighbouring clergyman, who is not to be compared to ours in any other thing, contributes much more to the orderly and convenient conducting of publick worship. He begins as soon as he conveniently can, after ascending the pulpit stairs. whether the day be rainy or fair; and all the congregation, knowing precisely when he will commence, are generally in their places in time.
By putting this into your paper, you will entitle yourself to the high consideration of yours, &c.
Jedediah Parishioner.