Now the fact was that the Rev. Amos Barton, on his last visit to Mrs. Patten, had urged her to enlarge her promised subscription of twenty pounds, representing to her that she was only a steward of her riches, and that she could not spend them more for the glory of God than by giving a heavy subscription towards the rebuilding of Shepperton Church—­a practical precept which was not likely to smooth the way to her acceptance of his theological doctrine.  Mr. Hackit, who had more doctrinal enlightenment than Mrs. Patten, had been a little shocked by the heathenism of her speech, and was glad of the new turn given to the subject by this question, addressed to him as church-warden and an authority in all parochial matters.

‘Ah,’ he answered, ’the parson’s bothered us into it at last, and we’re to begin pulling down this spring.  But we haven’t got money enough yet.  I was for waiting till we’d made up the sum, and, for my part, I think the congregation’s fell off o’ late; though Mr. Barton says that’s because there’s been no room for the people when they’ve come.  You see, the congregation got so large in Parry’s time, the people stood in the aisles; but there’s never any crowd now, as I can see.’

‘Well,’ said Mrs. Hackit, whose good-nature began to act now that it was a little in contradiction with the dominant tone of the conversation, ‘I like Mr. Barton.  I think he’s a good sort o’ man, for all he’s not overburthen’d i’ th’ upper storey; and his wife’s as nice a lady-like woman as I’d wish to see.  How nice she keeps her children! and little enough money to do’t with; and a delicate creatur’—­six children, and another a-coming.  I don’t know how they make both ends meet, I’m sure, now her aunt has left ’em.  But I sent ’em a cheese and a sack o’ potatoes last week; that’s something towards filling the little mouths.’

‘Ah!’ said Mr. Hackit, ’and my wife makes Mr. Barton a good stiff glass o’ brandy-and-water, when he comes into supper after his cottage preaching.  The parson likes it; it puts a bit o’ colour into ’is face, and makes him look a deal handsomer.’

This allusion to brandy-and-water suggested to Miss Gibbs the introduction of the liquor decanters, now that the tea was cleared away; for in bucolic society five-and-twenty years ago, the human animal of the male sex was understood to be perpetually athirst, and ’something to drink’ was as necessary a ‘condition of thought’ as Time and Space.

‘Now, that cottage preaching,’ said Mr. Pilgrim, mixing himself a strong glass of ‘cold without,’ ’I was talking about it to our Parson Ely the other day, and he doesn’t approve of it at all.  He said it did as much harm as good to give a too familiar aspect to religious teaching.  That was what Ely said—­it does as much harm as good to give a too familiar aspect to religious teaching.’