'Some of your names, Jasper, appear to be church names--your own, for example, and Ambrose and Sylvester; perhaps you got them from the Papists, in the times of Popery, but where did you get such a name as Piramus, a name of Grecian romance. Then some of them appear to be Slavonian; for example Mikailia and Pakomovna. I don't know much of Slavonian; but--' 'What is Slavonian, brother?' 'The family name of certain nations, the principal of which is the Russian, and from which the word slave is originally derived. You have heard of the Russians, Jasper?' 'Yes, brother, and seen some. I saw their crallis at the time of the peace; he was not a bad-looking man for a Russian.' 'By-the-bye, Jasper, I'm half inclined to think that crallis {51a} is a Slavish word. I saw something like it in a lil {51b} called "Voltaire's Life of Charles." How you should have come by such names and words is to me incomprehensible.' 'You seem posed, brother.' 'I really know very little about you, Jasper.' 'Very little indeed, brother. We know very little about ourselves, and you know nothing, save what we have told you; and we have now and then told you things about us which are not exactly true, simply to make a fool of you brother. You will say that was wrong; perhaps it was. Well, Sunday will be here in a day or two, when we will go to church, where possibly we shall hear a sermon on the disastrous consequences of lying.' CHAPTER VIII THE CHURCH--THE ARISTOCRATICAL PEW--DAYS OF YORE--THE CLERGYMAN--'IN WHAT WOULD A MAN BE PROFITED?' When two days had passed, Sunday came; I breakfasted by myself in the solitary dingle; and then, having set things a little to rights, I ascended to Mr. Petulengro's encampment. I could hear church-bells ringing around in the distance, appearing to say, 'Come to church, come to church,' as clearly as it was possible for church-bells to say. I found Mr. Petulengro seated by the door of his tent, smoking his pipe, in rather an ungenteel undress. 'Well, Jasper,' said I, 'are you ready to go to church; for if you are, I am ready to accompany you?' 'I am not ready, brother,' said Mr. Petulengro, 'nor is my wife; the church, too, to which we shall go is three miles off {52}; so it is of no use to think of going there this morning, as the service would be three-quarters over before we got there; if, however, you are disposed to go in the afternoon, we are your people.' Thereupon I returned to my dingle, where I passed several hours in conning the Welsh Bible, which the preacher, Peter Williams, had given me.