of pride, of joy, and of anxiety. How the 

 youthful band, half gay, more than half gro- 

 tesque, but totally happy, have advanced over 

 hill and dale. 



The whole joyousness of their holiday feeling 

 is presented to you, as they progressed through 

 bosky lanes and heaths and hills, — the flowers, 

 and the dews, and the green leaves, breathing 

 upon them their freshest influence; the blue, 

 cheering sky above them, and the lark sending 

 down, from his highest flight, his' music of in- 

 effable gladness. You feel the secret awe that 

 struck into their bosoms as they entered the noisy, 

 glittering, polished, and in their eyes, mighty 

 and proud town ; and the notion of the church, 

 the assembled crowds, the imposing ceremony, 

 came strongly and distinctly before them. 



Besides these, numbers of vehicles are bring- 

 ing in other rural neophytes. The carriages of 

 the wealthy drive rapidly and gaily on to inns 

 and houses of friends. Tilted waggons, gigs, 

 ample cars, are all freighted with similar bur- 

 dens; and many a strange, old, lumbering cart, 

 whose body is smeared with the ruddy marl of 

 the fields it has done service in, whose wheels 

 are heavy with the clinging mire of roads that 

 would make M'Adam aghast, rumbles along, 

 dragged by a bony and shaggy animal, that if it 

 muse be honored with the name of horse, is the 

 very Helot of horses. These open conveyances 

 exhibit groups of young girls, who in the lively 

 air, and shaken to and fro by the rocking of their 

 vehicle, and the jostling of chairs, look like heels 

 of tulips nodding in a strong breeze, 



As you approach the great church, the bustle 

 becomes every moment more conspicuous. The 

 clergy are walking in that direction in their 

 black gowns. Groups of the families of the 

 country clergy strike your eyes. Venerable old 

 figures with their sleek and ruddy faces ; their 

 black silk stockings glistening beneath their 

 gowns; their canonical hats set most becomingly 

 above, are walking on, the very image of hap- 

 piness — with their wives hanging on their arms, 

 and followed by lovely genteel girls, and grace- 

 ful, growing lads. As the rustics' aspects brought 

 all the spirit of the cottage and the farm to your 

 imagination, they bring all that of the village 

 parsonage. You are transported in a moment 

 to the most perfect little paradises which are to 

 be found in the world — the country dwellings of 

 the English clergy. Those sweet spots, so ex- 

 actly formed for the ' otium cum dignitate.' 

 Those medium abodes, betwixt the rudeness and 

 vexations of poverty, and the cumbrous state of 

 aristocratic opulence. Those lovely and pic- 

 turesque houses, built of all orders and all fashions, 

 yet preserving the one definite, uniform cha- 

 racter of the comfortable, the pretensionless, and 

 the accordant with the scenery in which they are 

 placed ; — houses, some of old framed timber, 

 up which the pear and the apricot, the pyracan- 

 tha and the vine clamber ; or of old, grey, sub- 

 stantial stone; or of more modern and elegant 

 villa architecture, with their roofs which, whether 

 of thatch or slate, or native grey stone, are seen 

 thickly screened from the north, and softened 

 and surmounted to the delighted eye with noble 

 trees: with their broad bay windows, which 

 bring all the sunny glow of the south, at will, 



into the house; and around which the rose and 

 jasmin breathe their delicious odors. Those 

 sweet abodes, surrounded by their bowery, shady, 

 aromatic shrubberies, and pleasant old-fashioned 

 glebe-crofts — homes in which, under the influ- 

 ence of a wise, good heart, and a good system, 

 domestic happiness may be enjoyed to its highest 

 conception, and whence piety, and cultivation, 

 and health, and comfort, and a thousand bless- 

 ings to the poor, may spread through the sur- 

 rounding neighborhood. 



Such are the abodes brought before your minds 

 by the sight of the country clergy; such are 

 thousands of their dwellings, scattered through 

 this great and beneficent country, — in its villages 

 and hidden nooks of scattered population, — amid 

 its wild mountains, and along its wilder coasts; — 

 endowed by the laws with earthly plenty, and in- 

 vested by the bright heaven, and its attendant 

 seasons, with the freshest sunshine, the sweetest 

 dews, the most grateful solitude and balmy 

 seclusion. 



But the merry bells call us onward: and lo! 

 the mingled crowds are passing under that an- 

 cient and time-worn porch. We enter, — and 

 how impressive is the scene ! The whole of that 

 mighty fabric is filled, from side to side, with a 

 mixed, yet splendid congregation, — for the rich 

 and the poor, the superb and the simple, there 

 blend into one human mass, whose varieties are 

 but as the contrast of colors in a fine painting, — 

 the spirit of the ensemble is the nobility of beauty. 

 The whole of that gorgeous assembly, on which 

 the eye rests in palpable perception of the wealth, 

 refinement, and the elevation of the social life of 

 our country, is hushed in profound attention to 

 the reading of the services of the day, by one of 

 the clergymen. . . . They are past; — the bishop, 

 followed by his clergy, advances to the altar. 

 The solemn organ bursts forth with its thunder 

 of harmonious sound, that rolls through the arched 

 roof above, and covers every living soul with its 

 billows of tumultuous music. With its depth of 

 inexpressible feeling, it touches the secret springs 

 of wonder in the spirit; and, amid its imperial 

 tones, the tread of many youthful feet is heard 

 in the aisle. You turn, and behold a scene that 

 brings the tears into your eyes. 



What a contrast is there in those children! 

 The sons and daughters of the fortunate, with 

 their cultured forms, and cultured features — 

 the girls just budding into the beauty of early 

 womanhood, in their white garbs, and with their 

 fair hair so simply, yet so gracefully disposed, — 

 the boys with their open, rosy, yet declined 

 countenances, and their full locks, clustering in 

 vigorous comeliness; — they look under the in- 

 fluence of the same feelings, like the children of 

 some more ethereal planet: while the offspring 

 of the poor are seen with their figures, and homely 

 dresses ; with their hah*, which has had no such 

 sedulous hands, full of love and leisure, to mould 

 it into shining softness — nay, that has, in many 

 instances, had no tending but that of the frosts 

 and Avinds, and the midsummer scorching of 

 their daily, out-of-doors lives ; and with counte- 

 nances in which the predominant expressions are 

 awe, and simple credence. These touch us with 

 equal sympathy for the disadvantages of their 

 lot,— 'William HowiTTt 



