touch them; minds his own business; is moderately benevolent, but doesn’t phlebotomise himself too painfully; never sets his district on fire with either phrensied lectures or polemical tomahawking; takes things easily and respectably; believes in his own views rather strongly at times; loves putting the sacred kibosh upon things occasionally; is well educated, can think out his own divinity; need never buy sermons; has a clear, quiet-working, fairly-developed brain; is inclined to thoughtfulness and taciturnity; might advantageously mix up with the poor of his district a little more; needn’t care over much for the nods of rich folk, or the green tea and toast of antique Spinsters; might be a little heartier, and less reserved; is a sincere man; believes in what he teaches; and is thoroughly evangelical; is more enlightened than three-fourths of our Preston Church of England parsons, and doesn’t brag over his ability.  His salary is about 400 pounds a year, and that is a sum which the generality of people would not object to.  He is a good reader, is clear and energetic, but shakes his head a little too much.  In the pulpit he never gets either fast asleep or hysterical.  He can preach good original sermons—­carefully worked out, well-balanced, neatly arranged; and he can give birth to some which are rather dull and mediocre.  His action is easy, yet earnest—­his style quiet yet dignified; his matter often scholarly, and never stolen.  He is not a, “gatherer and disposer of other men’s stuff,” like some clerical greengrocers:  what he says is his own, and he sticks to it.

There are two full services, morning and evening, and prayers in an afternoon, on Sundays, at the church; and on a Tuesday evening there is another service,—­attended only slenderly, and patronised principally, we are afraid, by elderly females, whose sands have run down, and who couldn’t do much harm now if they were very solicitous on the subject.  The attendance on Sundays is pretty large—­ particularly in a morning.  The adult congregation used to be very select and high in the instep—­was a kind of second edition of St. George’s, in three volumes.  It is still numerous, but not so choice; still proud but not so well bred; still stiff, serene, lofty-minded, and elanish, but not so wealthy as is formerly was.  The superior members of the congregation, as a rule, gravitate downwards, have seats on the ground floor,—­it is vulgar to sit in the galleries.  They are all excellently attired; the “latest thing” may be seen in hair, and bonnets, and dresses; the best of coats and the cleanest of waistcoats are also observable.  A cold tone of gentle-blooded, high-middle-class respectability prevails.  Much special adhesiveness exists amongst them.  Small charmed circles, little isolated coteries, fond of exclusive devotional dealing, and “keeping themselves to themselves,” are rather numerous.  Many good and some very inquisitive and gossipy people attend—­individuals who