and the rural population of
the parish were standing about the lane, leaning on the church-stile
and against the walls of the old court, anxious to get a look at
their new minister as he passed from the house to the rectory. The
archdeacon's servant had already preceded them thither with the
vestments.

They all went forth together, and when the ladies passed into the
church, the three gentlemen tarried a moment in the lane, that
Mr. Thorne might name to the vicar with some kind of one-sided
introduction the most leading among his parishioners.

"Here are our churchwardens, Mr. Arabin--Farmer Greenacre and Mr.
Stiles. Mr. Stiles has the mill as you go into Barchester; and very
good churchwardens they are."

"Not very severe, I hope," said Mr. Arabin. The two ecclesiastical
officers touched their hats, and each made a leg in the approved rural
fashion, assuring the vicar that they were very glad to have the
honour of seeing him, and adding that the weather was very good for
the harvest. Mr. Stiles, being a man somewhat versed in town life,
had an impression of his own dignity, and did not quite like leaving
his pastor under the erroneous idea that he being a churchwarden kept
the children in order during church time. 'Twas thus he understood
Mr. Arabin's allusion to his severity and hastened to put matters
right by observing that "Sexton Clodheve looked to the younguns,
and perhaps sometimes there may be a thought too much stick going
on during sermon." Mr. Arabin's bright eye twinkled as he caught
that of the archdeacon, and he smiled to himself as he observed how
ignorant his officers were of the nature of their authority and of
the surveillance which it was their duty to keep even over himself.

Mr. Arabin read the lessons and preached. It was enough to put a man
a little out, let him have been ever so used to pulpit reading, to
see the knowing way in which the farmers cocked their ears and set
about a mental criticism as to whether their new minister did or did
not fall short of the excellence of him who had lately departed from
them. A mental and silent criticism it was for the existing moment,
but soon to be made public among the elders of St. Ewold's over the
green graves of their children and forefathers. The excellence,
however, of poor old Mr. Goodenough had not been wonderful, and
there were few there who did not deem that Mr. Arabin did his work
sufficiently well, in spite of the slightly nervous afflic