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The chapel's original walls were built of rock, but its newer part was constructed of brick-work during the fourteenth century.
Romaine and Fletcher often preached at Bath in the early months of the chapel's history, and the latter thus referred to his ministry: "This place is the seat of Satan's gaudy throne; the Lord hath, nevertheless, a few names here, who are not ashamed of Him, and of whom He is not ashamed, both among the poor and among the rich."
She knew they were speaking for him, and while the service was in progress she wondered over and over if hers had answered. Neither of these worshippers, who forgot to worship, was in a mood for talking as they came out and rode slowly home along the lane. Its evening peace seemed to be a continuance of the chapel's calm. The sun was low balancing, as a red ball, on the hazy, distant hilltops.
I have seen many a banner hung up in token of past victory, and many a flag taken on the field of battle mouldering by degrees into dust on some chapel's wall but they have not been the flags of England. Till this day I had never seen our own colors in any position but one of self-assertion and independent power.
BUHEL. The forest chapel's matin bell Chimes clearly o'er the lake from Switzerland. FLUE. The air is clear, and bears the sound so far. MELCHTHAL. Go, you and you, and light some broken boughs, Let's bid them welcome with a cheerful blaze. SEWA. The moon shines fair to-night. Beneath its beams The lake reposes, bright as burnished steel. BUHEL. They'll have an easy passage. Ha! look there!
"Oh, really," said Bruce with an expression of half contemptuous interest, "then I suppose chapel's at a quarter past six, and we shall have one of those long winded choral services." "Don't you like them?" "Like them? I should think not! Since one's forced to do a certain amount of chapels, the shorter they are the better."
Then he passes to the out-buildings, taking notes like a broker in possession under a fi. fa. 'And now the chapel's silver bell you hear, That summons you to all the pride of prayer: Light quirks of music, broken and uneven, Make the soul dance upon a jig to heaven.
"The men, Sir Richard the Jesuits they are not here, indeed." "Not here, sir?" "On the word of a gentleman, they left my house an hour ago. Believe me, sir, they did. I will swear to you if you need." "I believe Mr. Leigh of Chapel's word without oaths. Whither are they gone?" "Nay, sir how can I tell? They are they are, as I may say, fled, sir; escaped."
The head-printer stiffens up, an' the four others assoomes eyes of iron, same as before, an' the pow wow re-opens as follows: "'Colonel, says the range boss for the printers, while the others stands lookin' an' listenin' like cattle with their y'ears all for'ard, 'Colonel, the chapel's had a meetin', an' we-all has decided that you've got to make back payments at union rates for the last six months, which is when we sends back to the States for that charter.
I hopes you'll live this many a day, Vallack; an' then, when your hour comes, you'll have piled up a tidy record an' can go wi' a certainty faacin' you. Seems you'm better, an' us at chapel's prayed hot an' strong to the Throne that you might be left to work out your salvation now your foot's 'pon the right road." "But if I dies, mister?"
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