There was difference enough, it is true, but still there was a similarity--at least I thought so--the church, the clergyman, and the clerk, differing in many respects from those of pretty D---, put me strangely in mind of them; and then the words!--by the bye, was it not the magic of the words which brought the dear enchanting past so powerfully before the mind of Lavengro?
for the words were the same sonorous words of high import which had first made an impression on his childish ear in the old church of pretty D---.
The liturgy was now over, during the reading of which my companions behaved in a most unexceptionable manner, sitting down and rising up when other people sat down and rose, and holding in their hands prayer-books which they found in the pew, into which they stared intently, though I observed that, with the exception of Mrs.Petulengro, who knew how to read a little, they held the books by the top, and not the bottom, as is the usual way.

The clergyman now ascended the pulpit, arrayed in his black gown.

The congregation composed themselves to attention, as did also my companions, who fixed their eyes upon the clergyman with a certain strange immovable stare, which I believe to be peculiar to their race.

The clergyman gave out his text, and began to preach.

He was a tall, gentlemanly man, seemingly between fifty and sixty, with greyish hair; his features were very handsome, but with a somewhat melancholy cast: the tones of his voice were rich and noble, but also with somewhat of melancholy in them.