on of our Parish Church is tolerably numerous, and
embraces many fine human specimens. Money and fashion are well
represented at it; and as Zadkiel and the author of Pogmoor Almanac
say those powers have to rule for a long time, we may take it for
granted that the Parish Church will yet outlive many of the minor
raving academies in which they are absent. There is touch more
generalisation than there used to be as to the sittings in our
Parish Church; but "birds of a feather flock together" still. The
rich know their quarters; exquisite gentlemen and smart young ladies
with morrocco-bound gilt-edged Prayer Books still cluster in special
sections; and although it is said that the poor have the best part
of the church allotted to them, the conspicuousness of its position
gives a brand to it neither healthy nor pleasant. They are seated
down the centre aisle; but the place is too demonstrative of their
poverty. If half the seats were empty, situated excellently though
they may be, you wouldn't catch any respectable weasle asleep on
them. If some doctor, or magistrate, or private bib-and-tucker lady
had to anchor here, supposing there were any spare place in any
other part of the house, there would be a good deal of quizzing and
wonderment afloat. If you don't believe it put on a highly refined
dress and try the experiment; and if you are not very specially
spotted we wild give a fifty dollar greenback on behalf of the
society for converting missionary eaters in Chillingowullabadorie.
We shall say nothing with regard to the ordinary service of the
Parish Church, except this, that it would look better of three
fourths of the congregation if they would not leave the responses to
a paid choir. "Lor, bless yer," as Betsy Jane Ward would say, a
choir will sing, anything put before them if it is set to music; and
they think no more of getting through all that sad business about
personal sinfulness, agonising repentance, and a general craving for
forgiveness, than the odd woman did when she used to kiss her cow
and say it was delicious. There was once a period when all Parish
Church goers made open confession joined audibly in the prayers, and
said "Amen" as if they meant it; although we are doubtful about even
that. Now, the choir does all the work, and the congregation are
left behind the distance post to think about the matter. But if it
suits the people it's quite right.

There are three parsons at our Parish Church--Canon Par