, time-stained and rain-eaten, its severe-
looking, square Norman tower, and its generally-formal style of
architecture, that edifice does not present a very imposing appearance
from without; but, within, the case is different.

Lofty, pointed, stained-glass windows light it. The chancel bears the
stamp of the Restoration. Oaken beams; carved galleries, curiously
contrived to fit into every available space; high, upright box pews--of
the sort instituted, in the reign of Anne, by the renowned Bishop
Burnett to restrain the roving eyes of the congregation and make
gallants better attend to their devotions; all these, in addition to the
memorial slabs and tablets, and weeping angels over cinereal urns, tend
to give the church that air of ugliness and comfort which the modern
churchman detests.

Dear old church!

I love its old walls, its old chancel, its old pews, its form of
worship, and all; for it was there that I first saw her,--my own, my
darling!

O, Min, Min! can I ever forget that time?

Can I!

One Sunday--it is not so long ago that my hair is grey, nor so recently
as to prevent my having a story to tell--I was in Saint Canon's church,
sitting in one of its old, square box pews, where one was, as it were,
shut up in a small, private house, away from all connection with the
outer world; for you could not see anything when the door was closed,
with the exception of the roof overhead, and, mayhap, the walls around.
I was listening to the varied fugue introitus that the organist was
playing from the gallery beyond the pulpit,--playing with the full wind
power of the venerable reed instrument he skilfully manipulated, having
all the stops out,--diapasons, trumpet, vox humana, and the rest. The
music was from Handel, a composer of whom the maestro was especially
fond; so fond, indeed, that any of the congregation who might have the
like musical proclivities need seldom fear disappointment. They could
reckon upon hearing the Hallelujah Chorus at least once a fortnight, and
the lesser morceaux of _Israel in Egypt_ at intervals in between.

Presently, just before the vicar and curate made their customary
processional entry, ere the service began, two ladies were ushered into
the large pew which I occupied alone in solitary state. There was room
enough, in all conscience. It could have accommodated a round dozen,
and that without any squeezing.

Both the ladies were dressed in half-mourning, which attracted