Catholicism and saloon cars have a lot in common, with faith across Europe gradually dwindling. So can the all-new C-Class keep the faith and fill the pews?
That said, the last C sold 630,000 units worldwide and maintained prime position against BMW and Audi here in the UK. Overall, more than six million examples have been knocked out. That's a lot of self-satisfied taxi drivers.
The headlines for the new C are promising. For a start, Merc's Milton Keynes HQ has simplified the line up, ditching the Solihull-smooth Avantgarde and streamlining choices down to SE, Elegance and Sport. From June, you'll be able to muse over three diesels: a 170hp, 2.2-litre, 220 CDI (from �25,090) and a 224hp, V6, 3.0-litre 320 CDI (from �31,590), while an entry level 2.2-litre 200 CDI with 136hp is available from September (and priced from �24,090). The 320 won't be available in bottom, SE, spec - in the Sport trim shown here, it costs �33,290.
If you want the old-fashioned bonnet-mounted tristar, don't go for the Sport, tested here. Unlike the SE and Elegance, it includes a chunkier grille with oversized M-B badge inset, SL-style.
Despite being longer and wider than before, the shape is punchier and appears shorter, thanks to ascendant side lines that accentuate wedginess. The new body's a gamble: granted, BMW's 3 Series has a rump like a mixed-up Rubik's cube, but where Audi's A4 looks hewn, understated and succinct, the new C is just downright chatty. Stare hard enough and you may detect elements of Lexus (nose), Citroen Xsara (rear quarters) and even, dare one suggest, Vauxhall Astra (headlamps).
Don't misread me: this is an impeccable effort, with wonderful seating and trim, crystal-clear instrumentation - especially the system control button and ultra-quick sat nav- and a measure of quality that matches the advances made in the E-class. It brings nothing new to the genre though; more convincing than the 3 Series cockpit, but lacking A4's clean edges.
However, if you seek disappointment on the move, you're in the wrong seat. Granted, this road-test was gleaned from behind the wheel of the top-notch model, complete with an 'agility control package' which stiffens up the suspension when you press the 'Sport' button and shortens the steering response while quickening the gears, but the basics are all present and correct. First up, the steering: it's wonderfully weighted and, though the steering wheel itself is a tad large, never feeds you any unwanted dollops of vague stodge.
The Sport mode, particularly when you are driving hard and using the steering-set gearchange buttons, enhances the car's crisp, incisive approach to twisting tarmac, though your dentures will feel that bit more comfy with the button left alone. And in any case, when not cornering on the door mirrors, the C feels dynamic enough.
Much of that comes down to the three-litre powerhouse. It's not quite so velvety as BMW's sequential turbo equivalent, but it lacks nothing in the performance stakes, delivering a thick swathe of torque from standstill to top motorway speeds. It never dozes off.
At the risk of sounding like an Oscar speech, the gearbox, however, can't be left out. Blimey, what a technowizard this is - not five, not six but seven forward speeds await your delectation. And you might think that seven spells an over-egging of the gear omelette: not at all. The spacings are seamless and sensible and, either driven in manual mode or left to work it out for itself, the overall system feels constantly alert and keen. VW's DSG designers finally have competition.
So having wobbled on the catwalk, the C can clearly deliver on the road, but what about practicality? Not even Mr Bean would manage to find the driving position awkward; everything that can be adjusted does. And in the back, leg and headspace are clearly set to maximum German lankiness. The driver might initially wrestle with the multi-function stalks (it's not too difficult to switch the cruise on when looking for the wipers) and the voice-control 'Comand' system seems so newfangled it'd be quicker to write a letter, but it's largely the antithesis of Japanese technology here, ie it makes sense. Oh, and the boot's a Tardis.
It's down to personal choice, but the C has traded some stature in the quest for youthful appeal. On the way, it's become measurably more of a driver's car. And as the dealer will undoubtedly advise, if you prefer serene progress and a higher state of being, Es are impeccably good.
One final feather in the C-class's cap cannot, however, go unrecognised: there are more hoops than ever for car makers to jump through (that more prominent nose being as much in compliance of EU pedestrian safety regulations as it is a fashion statement) and despite being 16% stiffer than before, despite being wider and longer and incorporating more cosseting technology, it weighs no more. Better still, fuel consumption has been improved by six per cent across the range.
Maybe the saloon car isn't so endangered after all.
Tiscali verdict: 7/10 C gets A for drive appeal, but has less presence.
