had fallen, green fruit had come on whilst I had
been asleep--how circumstances had altered, and above all myself, whilst
I had been asleep. No, I had not been asleep in the old church! I was
in a pew, it is true, but not the pew of black leather, in which I
sometimes fell asleep in days of yore, but in a strange pew; and then my
companions, they were no longer those of days of yore. I was no longer
with my respectable father and mother, and my dear brother, but with the
gypsy cral and his wife, and the gigantic Tawno, the Antinous of the
dusky people. And what was I myself? No longer an innocent child, but a
moody man, bearing in my face, as I knew well, the marks of my strivings
and strugglings, of what I had learnt and unlearnt; nevertheless, the
general aspect of things brought to my mind what I had felt and seen of
yore. There was difference enough, it is true, but still there was a
similarity--at least I thought so--the church, the clergyman, and the
clerk, differing in many respects from those of pretty D---, put me
strangely in mind of them; and then the words!--by the bye, was it not
the magic of the words which brought the dear enchanting past so
powerfully before the mind of Lavengro? for the words were the same
sonorous words of high import which had first made an impression on his
childish ear in the old church of pretty D---.

The liturgy was now over, during the reading of which my companions
behaved in a most unexceptionable manner, sitting down and rising up when
other people sat down and rose, and holding in their hands prayer-books
which they found in the pew, into which they stared intently, though I
observed that, with the exception of Mrs. Petulengro, who knew how to
read a little, they held the books by the top, and not the bottom, as is
the usual way. The clergyman now ascended the pulpit, arrayed in his
black gown. The congregation composed themselves to attention, as did
also my companions, who fixed their eyes upon the clergyman with a
certain strange immovable stare, which I believe to be peculiar to their
race. The clergyman gave out his text, and began to preach. He was a
tall, gentlemanly man, seemingly between fifty and sixty, with greyish
hair; his features were very handsome, but with a somewhat melancholy
cast: the tones of his voice were rich and noble, but also with somewhat
of melancholy in them. The text which he gave out was the following one,
"In what would a man be pr