The service was performed by a snuffling well-fed vicar, who had a
snug dwelling near the church. He was a privileged guest at all the
tables of the neighborhood, and had been the keenest fox-hunter in the
country; until age and good living had disabled him from doing any
thing more than ride to see the hounds throw off, and make one at
the hunting dinner.
Under the ministry of such a pastor, I found it impossible to get
into the train of thought suitable to the time and place: so,
having, like many other feeble Christians, compromised with my
conscience, by laying the sin of my own delinquency at another
person's threshold, I occupied myself by making observations on my
neighbors.
I was as yet a stranger in England, and curious to notice the
manners of its fashionable classes. I found, as usual, that there
was the least pretension where there was the most acknowledged title
to respect. I was particularly struck, for instance, with the family
of a nobleman of high rank, consisting of several sons and
daughters. Nothing could be more simple and unassuming than their
appearance, They generally came to church in the plainest equipage,
and often on foot. The young ladies would stop and converse in the
kindest manner with the peasantry, caress the children, and listen
to the stories of the humble cottagers. Their countenances were open
and beautifully fair, with an expression of high refinement, but, at
the same time, a frank cheerfulness, and an engaging affability.
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