George Eliot

Scenes of Clerical Life George Eliot

Shepperton Church was a very different-looking building five-and-twenty years ago. To be sure, itssubstantial stone tower looks at you through its intelligent eye, the clock, with the friendlyexpression of former days; but in everything else what changes! Now there is a wide span of slatedroof flanking the old steeple; the windows are tall and symmetrical; the outer doors are resplendentwith oak-graining, the inner doors reverentially noiseless with a garment of red baize; and the walls, you are convinced, no lichen will ever again effect a settlement on-they are smooth and innutrientas the summit of the Rev. Amos Barton's head, after ten years of baldness and supererogatory soap. Pass through the baize doors and you will see the nave filled with well-shaped benches, understoodto be free seats; while in certain eligible corners, less directly under the fire of the clergyman's eye, there are pews reserved for the Shepperton gentility. Ample galleries are supported on iron pillars, and in one of them stands the crowning glory, the very clasp or aigrette of Shepperton churchadornment-namely, an organ, not very much out of repair, on which a collector of small rents, differentiated by the force of circumstances into an organist, will accompany the alacrity of yourdeparture after the blessing, by a sacred minuet or an easy 'Glor