ther, were very
accomplished--being sold at the Soho Bazaar, a practice which helped to
maintain them in the respectability and comfort becoming their position
in life. But in London they never forgot the old home, and wrote so much
about it in their stories, that there was not a flower, or shrub, or
tree, or hedge, or mossy bank redolent in early spring of primroses and
violets, to which they had not given, to my boyish eyes, a glory and a
charm. This reference to painting reminds me of a feature of my young
days, not without interest, in connection with the name of Cunningham--a
name at one time well known in the religious world.

The reader must be reminded that the reverend gentleman referred to was a
_rara avis_, and that between him and the neighbouring clergy there was
little sympathy--unless the common rallying cry of 'The Church in
Danger!' was raised as an electioneering dodge. The clergyman at
Wrentham at that time, who declared himself the appointed vessel of grace
for the parish, I have been led to believe, since I have become older,
was by no means a saint, and his brethren were notorious as evil-livers.
Some twenty years ago one of them had his effects sold off, and his
library was viewed with no little amusement by his parishioners, to many
of whom, if popular fame be an authority, he was more than a spiritual
father. The library contained only one book that could be called
theological, and the title of that wonderfully unique volume was, 'Die
and be Damned; or, An End of the Methodists.' All the other books were
exclusively sporting, while the pictures were such as would have been a
disgrace to Holywell Street. It was of him that the clerk said that
'next Sunday there would be no Divine sarvice, as maaster was going to
Newmarket.' Once upon a time after a sermon one of his flock approached
him, as he had been preaching on miracles, to ask him to explain what a
miracle really was. The reverend gentleman gave his rustic inquirer a
kick, adding, 'Did you feel that?'

'Oh yes, sir; but what of that?'

'Why,' said the reverend gentleman, 'if you had not felt it, it would
have been a miracle, that is all.' Yet that man was as popular as any
parson in the district, perhaps more so, and it was with some indignation
in certain quarters that the people learned that a new Bishop had come to
Norwich, and that the parson had been deprived of his living for immoral
conduct. Of another it is said that, cal