A hundred years ago
An "Old-fashion Vicar," in search of a curate, writes to Monday's Times to complain of the mode in which the candidates for his curacy catechise him. One of them expresses his disapproval of the incumbent's use of the surplice in the pulpit, — which, however, he consents to overlook, on condition that the vicar preaches a particular evangelical doctrine; and he requests a specimen sermon from the vicar, in order to satisfy him of the vicar's thorough evangelicalism. A second candidate for the curacy asks the vicar if he is very particular to use the purest wines for the Holy Communion, and states that he cannot admit either tent or port-wine as pure enough; and he insists on the vicar satisfactorily answering the question whether "you make a conscience of carefully rinsing the sacred cup after Holy Communion, and yourself drinking the contents before leaving the altar." A third sends the vicar his portrait, and engages to preach "a thoughtful sermon in the morning, a children's sermon in the afternoon, and a popular sermon in the evening." "Can these be instances," asks the "Old-Fashioned Vicar," "of what has been spoken of lately as 'the sublime conceit of some of our young curates'?"
Spectator, 4 January 1879