Joking apart, is there not a formidable difficulty besetting our path - the
insipidity and monotony inseparable from the necessity
Which will devolve
on us of having constantly to discover new beauties in spots identical in
their main features; and should we, in order to vary the theme, mix up the
humorous with the rural, the historical, or the antiquarian style, may not
fun and humour be mistaken for satire - a complimentary notice for
flattery, above all others, a thing abhorrent to our nature? But 'tis vain
to argue. That fatal "yes" has been uttered, and no true knight goes back
from his plighted word. There being no help, we devoutly commend our case
to St. Columba, St. Joseph, and the archangel St. Michel, the patrons of
our parish, and set to our task, determined to assume a wide margin, draw
heavily on history, and season the whole with short anecdotes and glimpses
of domestic life, calculated to light up the past and present.
O critic, who would fain seek in "Our Parish" - in our homes - great
architectural excellence, we beseech you to pause! for the majority of
them no such pretension is set up. Nowhere, indeed, on our soil are to be
found ivied ruins, dating back to doomsday book, moated castle, or
mediaeval tower. We have no Blenheims, no Walton Halls, nor Chatsworths,
nor Woburn abbeys, nor Arundel castles, to illustrate every style of
architectural beauty, rural embellishment, and landscape. A Dainpierre, a
Rochecotte, a LaGaudiniere, may suit old France:
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