A COUNTRY CURATE'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
THE success of the Autobiography of a Dissenting Minister pro- bably suggested the present performance; but, like most imita- tions, it is very inferior to the original. Instead of the unity, distinctness of purpose, and characteristic details, which gave such an air of reality to its prototype, our Country Curate is dis- cursive, fragmentary, diffuse, and ague; whilst his book is made a vehicle for sickly sentiment, dry theo!ogical controversy, and lectures on the best mode of reading the Church service, besides some episodical accounts of a tour in Scotland, and the hardships of an Irish rector. Whatever may be thought of the Minister s logic and soundness of view, it must be admitted that lie pictured a series of real inconveniences and petty miseries, some of which not only appeared certain to await the generality of Dissenting teachers, but to await them alone. The distresses of the Curate, such as they are, are not peculiar to curates; they beset every man who aspires to a position beyond his means, and conducts himself with imprudence in the pursuit of it. The hero of the tale is the son of a country solicitor, with a large family and a small income. Being considered the bright one of the race, he is designed for the Church, and sent to college ; where he takes a degree without honours,—owing, be insinuates, to his postponing mathematics to a larger circle of reading. This partial failure causes a coolness between him and his family ; during which he makes a tour in Scotland with a college friend, falls in love with a lady he meets accidentally, and introduces himself to her with a confidence to he found in no class of men save old rakes or young divines. In the mean time, a pamphlet he has written in defence of the Church, reconciles him with his father, and procures him ordination. Being dubbed Deacon, lie enters upon its duties, at first gratuitously, next for casual remuneration ; and finally procures an engagement as curate, which secures him the use of the rectory and a guinea and a half per week. In despite of some hints of a rival, the Curate has con- tinued his correspondence with his Scottish Ellen, and the solitude of the long winter evenings induces him to think of matrimony ; but, on calculating his circumstances, he finds them insufficient to support a wife without a fortune; so he turns his ideas towards a stockbroker's daughter of his acquaintance, and coolly writes to break off his engagement. This new flirtation goes on by letter, and the Curate goes to another curacy, on the strength of which he makes an offer in person. The parents, however, are prudent people ; and they wish the marriage deferred till the Curate has better prospects. With this decision lie takes his departure; dis- covers by accident that his first love is still faithful ; and marries her, without a word of apology, or even of "advice' to the stock- broker's daughter.
The next step introduces the hero in a large house with a view to taking pupils; but, after trying some time, this plan does not succeed. He then procures another situation at 150/. a year; suffers, as his family increases, the usual distresses of poor gen- tlemen; has the further embarrassment of some old standing debts to encounter ; and at last gives his story to the world, in order to assist the Church against furious enemies and " snoring friends."
It is not at all improbable that this disjointed parcel of circum- stances may have sonic foundation in truth : but the author wants skill to render them interesting in the telling, and to com- press them within reasonable space; whilst he seems deficient in the power of investing events or characters with the life-like spirit which is indispensable when truth is dressed in the garb of fiction. The best parts of the book are the reflections on the relatist positions of the clergy, the government of the Church, and other matters relating to "the shop." And as these are the only pas- sages that will bear quotation, we gather a few experiences of the Country Curate.
THE TWO GRADES OF CLERGYMEN.
To what extent the expenses of a clergyman's family should be carried, the laws of society seem to have decreed : he is thereby required to appear in a decent state of comfortable superiority to the wants and emergencies of life; and few sincere clergymen have any desire to overstep the limits which are thus indulgently prescribed. It may be questioned, whether the influx of men of fortune to the minis- terial office be an acquisition to be valued, or an ornament to be dispensed with; and the hest evidence may, perhaps, be derived from a consideration of the comparative efficiency of the two grades (if I may so speak) of clergymen.
The poor, to whom the Gospel is specially preached, are decidedly won by that faithful exercise of duty which a mere competency is so well calculated to promote; and the middle classes follow as surely in the same path, if we may not add most of the upper ranks, NO far as these are accessible to the influence of the pastoral office; hut once let the clergyman be known to be actually poor —in plain terms, unable to answer the demands upon him for expenses, next to unavoidable if he have a family, and gratuities equally indispensable if he be the curate of a parish —; and the certain consequence is, that he meets with sod) altered demeanour in those who formerly paid him some marks of respect, endounters such efforts of scandal, has such intimations from his creditors in the shape of certain repeated accounts of bills delivered, and expo. riences so many proofs (indescribable, and to the layman, unimaginable,) of deslining usefulness, that he must be a man of apostolic energy indeed, if he do not yield to the blast, and imbibe a portion of disgust with the bitter draughts he is compelled to swallow.
On the other hand, the man of fortune, to whose influence the clerical dis- tinction is, perhaps, but the least important appendage, having the means, and generally the disposition, to mix with the highest circles, is too apt to consign
the endearing office of curate to a minister of the other grade, and to become in the eyes of at least the vulgar and prejudiced (and these are, perhaps, the most numerous, as they require the most anxious attention, in the whole flock), s being out of the reach of ordinary men, and identified only with the distin- guished few.
TIIE LOVE OF DIVINES FOR ONE ANOTHER.
Being in that profession upon which, of all others, is inculcated brother* lore, I called on the vicar of the parish, signified my intention, paid the sum. demanded for a licence, and received from him a promise that he woulds. with pleasure, perform the required service, on the day and at the hour ap- pointed. This I of course received as an intimation of a kindness such aseven I would not have dared to deny to a professional brother: but no ;—the time came, and the fee of one pound was demanded, in the hearing of the vicar, by that useful functionary, the clerk, and paid. Thus early was I initiated into the mystery that, of all living men, the clergy are least united in themselves and host inclined to hear one another's burdens; and that, while even lawyers show mercy one to another, and medical men invariably afford gratuitous succours, not only to, but in aid of their brethren, the clergy rigorously exact one from another every farthing of their due. The truth of this has been verified in the demand of an exorbitant fee for the interment of my father when I was the only mourner. Also, recently, when I begged permission of a London rector to baptize six children of a friend in his church, permission was granted, but thefees were sent for.
DIFFERENCES IN THE ESTABLISHMENT.
I have been sonic years in my present residence, and yet I am not upon friendly terms with any one of my clerical brethren. I don't know three, even upon speaking terms; and yet there are fifty within ten miles. There are " saints," enthusiasts, zealots; but some of them are Ilon.s and some are Dons; some have married wives with money and are very genteel ; some are allied to titles and hold family livings ; but I am poor, married to a poor woman, and come of a poor (albeit, a highly-respectable and ancient) family. There are fox-hunters and fortune-hunters; but as I always despised the pur- suit of the one, so have I no relish for the chase of the other ; and am, more- over, only a curate. There are old men and young men, high-horn and low- born ; but I have nothing to do with them. We might be, respectively, the ministers of all the religious under the sun, and, as far as I am concerned, no further removed from active brotherly love.
Now the evil of all this, to any one individually, it would perhaps be difficult to find ; but who sees not the evil to the Church, if it be right to call that evil which is not good ? What a glorious banner would it he upon the battlements of our stronghold, if we could really inscribe the word brotherly love in the eyes of the Dissenters ! What dismay would seize on their distracted bands, if the clergy of a district were bound hand-in-hand, and, by their intercourse,. encouraged one another in the performance of their arduous duties. But there is much positive evil. The rich clergy do not hang to the poor, and the lynx-eyed people see it : the poor clergy arc despised, and the people- borrow the idea. Why despised ? Because they are unnoticed. Why not hang to them? Because they never conic near them in their humbler abodes; because they do not know them. Why, the clergy of a diocese ought to be the children of one family; and the bishop—alas ! this calls to mind another sore —as their " father" indeed.
It is surely a bad and queer excuse to say that, perhaps, the calls of the one might not be acceptable to the other class. If there be a clergyman ashamed, before a brother, of his noble poverty, or, on the other hand, one elated with worldly greatness, he can have but little of the spirit which ought to inspire his thoughts and actions. Let them come and see us, not for our sake, but for the sake of those intrusted to our care ; and we promise them that, if they will excuse our littleness, their neighing steeds and polished carriage shall stand at our door without being coveted, or they may walk away, as great in their own and much greater in our estimation than before. The impression left by the book is by no means favourable,. either to the character of Curates, or to the moral effects upon the ecrical mind which arise from the vaunted inequality of incomes in the Church. Even if the lottery were fair, and the "prizes" (1) of which we hear so much from the High Churchmen were fairly distributed, the effect would be to drive a parcel of men into the Church who had no natural desire for this ministerial office, and who brought into the sacred vocation the spirit of mental adven- turers. As it is, the Church Establishment is not only thronged with such characters, but in addition to their natural deformity, experience soon superadds a sour discontent or a servile toadyism.-
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