The parishioners of Clerkenwell are the patrons of the living,
a vicarage worth £370 a year and we suppose some considerable fees, and they have recently been called upon to elect a Vicar. Instead of nominating a decent Committee of Selection, however, or even entrusting the choice to the Vestry, the third of the par- ishioners who attended to the matter at all managed' the election like the election of a Vestryman,—held noisy meetings, published abusive placards, demanded probationary sermons from candidates, and treated the occasion as a delightful opportunity for a row. They did not, however, display folly as well as bad taste, but managed the business sensibly enough, weeded the candidates, partly by pressure and partly by insult, down to two—one unhappy man being told publicly that he was drunk—and finally elected on Thursday, by 2,068 to 839, the best candidate, the Rev. J. H. Rose, Evangelical curate, who has been labouring among them for seven years with success. The election lasted three days, and was conducted by open voting, at which the minority are greatly enraged. They say their candidates' friends were kept away by the publicans, who were very active for Mr. Rose. The allega- tion appears to be unfounded, but if it is true, men who refuse to perform a religious duty lest they should not get credit for gin, are much better without such a franchise.
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