Its principal wealth arises from its agriculture, and the farms in the vicinity are remarkable for their rich pastures and produce. A stranger arriving at the entrance to Briarsleigh on a spring evening, with the sunset bathing the landscape in a golden misty sheen, would pause to gaze on a scene so fair; but on the evening of which we write, the bright landscape and the glowing sunset were unnoticed by the inhabitants of Briarsleigh Rectory. The lowered blinds, the stillness, and the absence of any living object near the picturesque building, told too plainly that it was the abode of death. Presently might be seen ascending the hilly lane towards the spot on which the church stood two men, evidently respectable farmers, who had stayed later than usual in the town on this the market day at Briarsleigh. As they approached the house, a glance at its quiet aspect and lowered blinds diverted the thoughts of one from money and the market, and he exclaimed-- "So the old rector is gone at last, Martin." "Eh! is he? How do you know?" "Why, look, the blinds are down; besides I heard of his death two hours ago in the town." "Ah, well, it's what we must all come to one day, and rector has lived out his time; why he must have been fourscore at least." "Eighty-six, so they say," replied Martin, "and I believe it, too; for I can remember him all my life nearly, and that's forty year." "Has he been rector of Briarsleigh so long as that?" asked the other. "Ay, that he have, and a kind good parson he's been too. Lord Rivers gave him this living a'most the first thing he did when he come to the estate at the old lord's death, and that was afore I was born." "I'm afeard we shan't get such another as Parson Wentworth, whoever it may be." "Well, he wasn't much of a preacher in his best days," was the reply, "and the curate ain't much better, though he's a good young man, but his sermons send me to sleep. You know there's lots of us go to the Wesleyan chapel; you can hear sermons there that wake a man up, and no mistake, though I like the Church prayers best, I'll own that." "I've been to them Wesleyans once or twice, and what their parson said was very fine, but he made too much noise about it; and I don't like their ways and their singing nohow." "Well, I like Church ways best too, and I assure you, Martin, it's made me quite miserable lately when I've been at church to see such a lot of empty pews. Why, if it hadn't been for my lord's family, and the servants and labourers from Englefield, there wouldn't have been twenty-five people in the church." "Yes, I know, and that's why I sticks to it. I'm only one, but if I go, my wife and the children goes too, and so we make up half a dozen amongst us. Poor old parson, the poor'll miss him, sure enough."