in the north chancel aisle, where a mural monument records their memories.  The clerks at this period, until 1831, were appointed by the corporation and paid by the borough.  In 1800 Mr. Richard Miller resigned his aldermanic gown to accept the office.  Mr. David Absolon (1811-31) was a member of the corporation before receiving the appointment.  Mr. John Seaman reigned from 1831 to 1841, and was followed by Mr. James Burman, who was the last clerk who took part in that curious duet with the vicar, to which we have often referred.  He was an accomplished campanologist and composed several peals.  In 1863 Mr. Lupson was appointed, who has so much honoured his office and earned the respect of all who know him.  The old fashion of the clerk wearing gown and bands is continued at Great Yarmouth.

[Illustration:  JAMES CARNE, PARISH CLERK OF ST. COLUMB-MINOR, CORNWALL.  THE OLDEST LIVING CLERK.]

Mr. Lupson tells of his strange experiences when conducting visitors round the church, and explaining to them the varied objects of interest.  What our clerks have to put up with may be news to many.  I will give it in his own words: 

Although a congenial and profitable engagement, it was often felt to be weary work, talking about the same things many times each day week after week:  and anything but easy to exhibit the freshness and retain the vivacity that was desirable.  Fortunately the monotony of the recital found considerable relief from the varied receptions it met with.  Among the many thousand individuals, of all grades and classes, from the highest to the lowest, thus come in contact with, a diversified and wide range of characters was inevitable.  The vast majority happily consisted of persons with whom it was pleasant to spend half an hour within the sacred walls, so gratified were they with what they saw and heard:  some proving so enthusiastic, and showing such absorbing interest, that at every convenient halting-place they would take a seat, and comfortably adjust themselves as if preparing to hear an address from a favourite preacher.  Occasionally, however, we had to endure the presence of persons who appeared to be suffering from disordered livers, or had nettles in their boots, so restless and dissatisfied were they.  Scarcely anything pleased them.  Undesirable individuals would sometimes be discovered in the midst of otherwise pleasant parties.  Of such may be mentioned those who knew of much finer churches they could really admire.  Whenever we heard the preface—­“There’s one thing strikes me in this church”—­we were prepared to hear a depreciatory remark of some kind.  Some would take pleasure in breaking the sequence of the story by anticipating matters not then reached, and causing divers interruptions.  Others would annoy by preferring persistent speaking to listening.  It was trying work going round with, and explaining to, persons from whom nothing but mono-syllables could be drawn, either through nervousness,