esides the fine company, though these
latter were by far the most numerous. What an odd-looking pair, for
instance, were those in ragged coats, one of them with his carroty hair
appearing under his scratch-wig, and who entered the church just as
the organ stopped! Nay, he could not have been a Protestant, for he
mechanically crossed himself as he entered the place, saying to
his comrade, "Bedad, Tim, I forgawt!" by which I conclude that
the individual came from an island which has been mentioned at the
commencement of this chapter. Wherever they go a rich fragrance of
whisky spreads itself. A man may be a heretic, but possess genius: these
Catholic gentlemen have come to pay homage to Mr. Sampson.

Nay, there are not only members of the old religion present, but
disciples of a creed still older. Who are those two individuals with
hooked noses and sallow countenances, who worked into the church in
spite of some little opposition on the part of the beadle? Seeing the
greasy appearance of these Hebrew strangers, Mr. Beadle was for
denying them admission. But one whispered into his ear, "We wants to
be conwerted, gov'nor!" another slips money into his hand,--Mr. Beadle
lifts up the mace with which he was barring the doorway, and the Hebrew
gentlemen enter. There goes the organ! the doors have closed. Shall we
go in, and listen to Mr. Sampson's sermon, or lie on the grass without?

Preceded by that beadle in gold lace, Sampson walked up to the pulpit,
as rosy and jolly a man as you could wish to see. Presently, when he
surged up out of his plump pulpit cushion, why did his Reverence turn as
pale as death? He looked to the western church-door--there, on each
side of it, were those horrible Hebrew caryatides. He then looked to the
vestry-door, which was hard by the rector's pew, in which Sampson
had been sitting during the service, alongside of their ladyships his
patronesses. Suddenly a couple of perfumed Hibernian gentlemen slipped
out of an adjacent seat, and placed themselves on a bench close by that
vestry-door and rector's pew, and so sate till the conclusion of the
sermon, with eyes meekly cast down to the ground. How can we describe
that sermon, if the preacher himself never knew how it came to an end?

Nevertheless, it was considered an excellent sermon. When it was over,
the fine ladies buzzed into one another's ears over their pews, and
uttered their praise and comments. Madame Walmoden, who was in the next
pew to