Only a Curate, or experiences and reminiscences of clerical life. By E. G. E

Chapter I. In

A CITY CHURCH " Only a curate." The words were spoken by a slightly built, delicate looking young man of about twenty-five years of age, clad in black, with a clerical collar and tie, and somewhat too much display of shirt-front. Afternoon service was just over in a large pretentious-looking church, standing at the converging point of several streets, in the autocratic and maritime city of Liverpool, and the speaker was apparently about to quit the sacred building when accosted by a stranger, who had just entered, and who was curiously gazing upon the incongruous pile of building, and surveying the dingy walls, the dirty-looking pulpit, and the dusty pews. "Pardon me, sir — are you the rector of this church?" "No, sir," was the reply, "only a curate. The Rev. Mr. 1] is rector, or rather vicar, and I am his curate."

"Curate!" exclaimed the tall, dark-looking stranger, with a look of surprise. " I suppose you are curator, or caretaker, and see that the pulpit, pews, and church generally are dusted, swept, and kept clean." "Oh no! I am curate only; I graduated at Oxford, had a title to holy orders given me by the vicar of this church, and was afterwards licensed by the bishop." "May I ask, then, what are your duties ?" inquired the other, who, after a long absence from his native country as a missionary in the backwoods of Canada, had just returned with the object of recruiting his health, and in the hope of finding clerical employment in the Anglican Church. We shall introduce him to our readers as the Rev. Mr. Egomet. " My duties on the weekday are to read morning prayers, visit the sick, bury the dead, and church the women.

The vicar officiates at the marriage ceremonies, and I run on the vicar's errands generally." "And on Sunday?" " On Sunday I read early prayers. After breakfast I attend Sunday school, then read morning service at church, and assist in the ante-communion ; after which the vicar preaches. In the afternoon I attend Sunday school till three o'clock, when I go to church again, read prayers, and afterwards stay till five o'clock, as I am now doing, to baptize babies, if any are brought." "That is a good week's work, well commenced by duty on Sunday." IN A CITY CHURCH. 3 "Oh, that is not all. There is evening service, at which I read not only the prayers but the lessons also. Sometimes the vicar takes that duty." "And do you ever preach?" "Yes, sometimes. When the vicar is tired he will send me one of his old sermons to read to the people.

Occasionally I write one of my own." "And do you preach it as your own?" " Yes. But as I am a beginner only, the vicar makes me read it over to him on the Saturday evening previous, and then he strikes out what he does not like in phrase ology or bad grammar." " Humph ! Bad grammar from an Oxford graduate," thought Egomet. He had to find out that bishops as well as graduates were not free from solecisms in English. " And what do you get for all this work? " "Only my title and the promise of forty pounds a year, with twenty pounds in addition provided the vicar be satisfied with my services." "And how much does the vicar get ? " " Five hundred pounds a year, besides fees for mar riages, burials, and churchings." " What do they amount to ? " " Some two or three hundred a year, or more.' Egomet eyed the young curate with a tender look of pity, turned round, and bade him "Good afternoon."

"Good afternoon," mildly returned the curate, "but won't you come to evening service? " " I will," said Egomet, and departed. It was evening, six o'clock ; the sky dusky, the atmosphere foggy and chilly, and the lights from street lamps, church and chapel windows, seemed to struggle in vain against the darkness which obscured the dirty, sloppy side walks, so characteristic of Liverpool, which Egomet was treading on his way to evening service at the Rev. Mr. B 's church. Presently, on turning a corner, the edifice loomed to view, dimly shadowed forth by the dull lights struggling through the windows, so as to make darkness more visible. Egomet joined the line of worshippers ascending the steps which led to the edifice, and entered. He was met by a verger, clad in black, who, holding up his wand, accosted him — "Are you a clergyman ?

" " I am," was the reply. " Please come this way, then. And, with a dignified gait, advancing up the middle aisle, he stopped at a pew some six seats from the pulpit, and, opening the door, motioned Egomet to enter. He was proceeding to do so, when his attendant, standing on tiptoe and holding out his hand, whispered — " Fee, if you please, sir." Egomet turned and eyed the man with a look of con fusion and surprise. Fee ! thought Egomet ; what does it mean ? His surprise was ended by the explanation — IN A CITY CHURCH. 5 "We allus expect a shillun from strangers." Egomet understood, and, complying with the indirect request for a gratuity, entered the pew, took his seat, and bowed his head in silent devotion. The church bells were chiming. There were still some five or six minutes before service time, which he occupied in looking round and scanning countenances and specu lating on characters of the incoming throng.

Egomet had been more than thirty years from his native land, and was not prepared for the wonderful changes, of which this was his first experience. He was musing on the changed conditions of public worship as he remembered them thirty years ago, and contrasting them with his intermediate experience of things Colonial and American, when suddenly the pew door opened, and a smartly dressed female, truly fair, fat, and forty, entered, and advancing towards him, eyed him with an air of offended dignity and majesty. " This is my pew. You have no right here ; I do not allow strangers to occupy my sittings." Egomet, confused and unprepared for the novel position in which he found himself placed, hesitated. He was not overawed, but his religious seeling caused the question to arise in his mind, Am I in a place conse crated for Christian worship ?

Is this a specimen of English Christianity, and is this a Christian English lady? There was room for both, for there was no other visible claimant for a seat in this particular pew, and he was going to say something harsh, but, recovering himself, forebore, and contented himself with saying, in the meekest tones possible — "I beg your pardon, madam, if I have intruded; I did not intend it. The pew-opener is in fault, and he charged me a shilling for the seat." The lady in her turn was confused, and blushed; while Egomet, with a formal bow, retired down the aisle, and took the first vacant seat near the door. Here he watched the incoming throng, as they pomp ously walked with muffled tread and multitudinous rustle, or ambled to their pews. Some of them appeared to be less worshippers of God than of themselves, and the look of proud contempt with which the expensively dressed occupants of one pew turned upon those plainly attired in the adjoining seats, painfully showed that the house of God was sometimes perverted into a place for the display of finery and fashion.

But the bell ceased tolling; there was a hush, and, amid the swelling tones of the organ, the vicar and his curate entered, the former taking his seat in the chancel, the latter proceeding to the reading desk. What a con trast between the two : one a fine specimen of a well-kept vicar, the other a mild, meek specimen of, well — only a curate. The opening sentence of the service took Egomet by surprise. He was not prepared for the simpering monotone of the voice, the. entire absence of any atten- IN A CITY CHURCH. 7 tion to stops, pauses, emphasis, or inflection, which is now the rule in many English churches. He remembered with regret the solemn, devout, heartfelt rendering of the services in the church of that far distant land from which he had just come. At first Egomet attributed this defect to the deficient training and bad elocution of his friend the curate, who was responsible for the first portion of the service, and it was with some relief that the stentorian voice of the portly vicar came to his ear, with the announcement — " Here beginneth the twentieth chapter, &c" Egomet hoped for better things from the vicar's maturer powers, but what was his disappointment when the monotone continued, only in a louder key ; too loud indeed, for the echo of one sentence drowned the meaning of the following one.

It reminded Egomet of an old couplet — " As he reads, his voice sounds like a spout, Or like a hogshead with the bung left out.': Of the musical portions of the service it must reluc tantly be said that there was more noise than melody. The organ is a magnificent instrument, but it is possible to allow it to contribute more than its fair share to the praise of God. That grand old hymn — "Rock of ages, cleft for me,' was rendered with a vigour which at times set the window panes rattling, and caused Egomet to make an involun tary gesture with his hand, as if to stop his ears and so deaden the sound. But the vicar is in the pulpit, and the prayer rolled out, "Prevent us, &c," he gives out his text, "Peace be unto you." Egomet menially ejaculated "Amen." The sermon was read in a tone of voice so loud, that the delivery of each sentence was perpetually haunted by the echo of the preceding one.

The meaning thus be came confused and jumbled, and the attention of the hearer soon wearied of the attempt to disentangle it. None joined in the singing of the doxology more heartily than Egomet; when, the service being ended, he hurried to his hotel, glad to refresh himself after the fatigues of his Atlantic passage, and the infliction of the evening.

Chapter II. En Route For London

On Monday morning Egomet rose early, and hastened to the railway station. The atmosphere was thick and foggy, the streets muddy after a night of rain. All around was depressing, and Egomet's temper was not improved by his first encounter with the British ticket clerk, who had given wrong change and grumbled at having to rectify it. On the point of retorting, Egomet remembered Lord Palmerston's advice, " Let a rude snob severely alone," turned on his heel and entered a third class carriage, soon to experience its discomforts in cold weather. As the train left the underground for the open country, Egomet had leisure to scan the landscape on either side of the line. During his thirty years of absence the face of his native country had become strange to him, and some of its more obvious features came upon him with a sense of surprise and even disappointment.

He had for gotten the characteristics of manufacturing towns and villages— the long streets and rows of low brick -built houses, all of the same type, and most of them dingy with the smoke and dirt bred of neighbouring factories and furnaces. At the outskirts of the towns, it is true, rows or terraces of more pretentious dwellings might be de tected, and here and there a secluded villa embowered in trees spoke of wealth and comfort at the end of vistas of grime and drudgery. But the total effect on Egomet's mind of such bird's eye views as he could obtain en route of English town and country, was a disappointment. The truth is, the Colonial Briton is apt to idealize his mother country, and he has a sort of sentimental feeling of disappointment when the reality does not come up to his expectations.

The philosophy of this feeling is probably something in this wise. In his own broad acres he finds himself ever face to face with some trace of primeval forest, or some suggestion of once boundless prairie, which remind him of a regime before his own, and seem to rise up in mute judgment against him as an intruder and interloper. He is in many ways made perpetually conscious that he belongs to a new world and has no family tree. In returning to his mother country he hopes to re-unite himself with a glorious past, which has only interrupted, not severed his connection. A sort of glamour pervades all his ideas about this country. He exaggerates her wealth, her magnificence, and her scenery, and — he forgets her climate. Consequently his first days in EN ROUTE FOR LONDON. 11 England are days often of disappointment and disillu sionment, and he is fortunate if some freak of the elements does not induce a feeling of positive disgust.

Absorbed in his reflections, Egomet had paid hardly any attention to his fellow-travellers. These, to all appearance, beguiled the weary hours pleasantly enough with lively talk and rough banter, the quieter sort con tenting themselves with comparing notes as to their points of departure and destination, from which Egomet gathered incidentally that one hailed from 'Ull, while another was journeying to Haxminster. But at length conversation appeared to flag in the railway carriage, and the silence and self-absorption of one of their number began to attract their attention. At last some one opposite, touching him on the knee lo attract attention, said — " Mister, excuse my asking the question, but do you not come from Amerikey?" Egomet with a nod assented. " Fine country they say, but very wild and rough.

In the cities and towns the people, I am told, are great rogues and swindlers, and in the wild country parts settlers are constantly in danger of having their brains beaten out by the savage Indians with their tomahawks. Is it so ? " Egomet assured his interrogator it was not so. " But I have often wondered how, from such a wild country, so much wheat could be sent over, and sold so cheap as almost to ruin our farmers at home. Are there any farms in Amerikey like those we have in England ? " " Yes," was the reply. " And how large ? " " From fifty to fifty thousand acres or so." " That's more than I can take in. You must be joking. No one could manage so much. Why, man, there are whole counties in this country that have not fifty thou sand acres. It cannot be so. How are they carried on?" " By large capitalists or companies, who, in the matter of labourers, have steam ploughs, cultivators, harrows, mowers, reaping and threshing machines, besides oxen, horses, and mules — have everything that farmers in England have got, and two things in which some of your English farmers seem to be deficient — industry and brains."

During this colloquy, Egomet reflected how little one half of the world knows what the other half is doing, even where self-interest is on the side of knowledge. Surely it was astounding that such blissful ignorance of the most elementary facts regarding the agriculture and social organization of their great sister country beyond sea should prevail in a company of apparently average British agricultural and industrial working men ! Were they a fair sample of their class ? And if so, and there were many like them, how could their country hope to maintain in the future that commercial supremacy, or EN ROUTE FOR LONDON. 13 that high tide of prosperity, which has been hers in the past. St. Pancras station at last. After an absence of thirty years he was in London again. What confusion, fog, smoke, hurry and din !

What touting of cabmen ; what bustling among the burly porters. What an almost inextricable pile of trunks, boxes, hampers, baskets, and parcels. Fortunately Egomet had but one trunk, large, of American make, and easily distinguished. Having secured his property he hailed a cabby, who quickly responded to his call ; the trunk was speedily on the top of the vehicle, and the cabman directed to drive to an hotel in the neighbourhood of Russell Square.

Chapter III. London

What were the reflections of Egomet as he lay stretched on a comfortable bed, which he was able thoroughly to appreciate after his experience of the narrow berth and close atmosphere on board the ocean steamer, rocked to and fro by the winds and waves of the broad Atlantic ? There passed in review before him all the events of his past thirty years. First the voyage across the Atlantic, an emigrant to the West ; then the first view of the gilded domes and silvery spires of the city of Quebec shimmering in the early sunshine, outvying whatever he had read in Oriental story ; and one after another the different events of his busy, varied life. Whilst thus engaged he falls asleep, and is soon in the land of dreams. He is on a wide plain. Two mighty armies are opposed in battle array. He hears shouts and words of command.

Then the crash of cannon and the din of musketry. He awakes, and starts up, only to hear the rumbling of LONDON. 15 waggon wheels, the din of carts and cabs hastening on ward to the great markets of the Metropolis. The clock strikes three, four, five, when Egomet again drops into a sound sleep. He is awakened by a knock at the door, and a female voice inquires — " Are you ill, sir ? It is ten o'clock. Shall I bring up your breakfast ? " Egomet answered in the affirmative, and, hastily rising and completing his toilet, received from the attendant a tray containing the usual refreshments. He then began to consider his plans, and decided to go into the City ; but the heavy pattering of rain against the windows, the audible plashing of vehicles, warned him that it would be no pleasure to traverse the sloppy pavements or pass over the muddy crossings of the city.

He resolved, therefore, to remain within doors till his fatigues from crossing the ocean should be overcome, and brighter skies and sunshine, if it might be, should dispel the gloom and fog. During the two following days, which he spent in his room, he devoted himself to hard study of the map of London and the daily papers. Among the advertise ments in one ofthe leading religious journals, a prominent place was occupied by notices of livings to be exchanged, advowsons for sale, rectors and vicars wanting curates, and curates advertising for employment. He remarked again a puffing notice of Mr. Blank's Clerical Agency, an institution which appeared to offer its services to procure engagements for curates, and provide curates for rectors and vicars requiring them. The conditions, however, struck him as being exceedingly novel.

The rich vicar and rector were required to pay nothing, but the poor curate had to pay fees of from three to five guineas, or say fifteen to twenty per cent, of his first year's stipend. The thought struck Egomet, That is a clever dodge, by which Mr. Blank will secure the patronage of the vicars and keep under his power the poor curates, who of course will apply to him as having the best opportunities for procuring employment. Can Christian vicars and rectors be so lost to the dignity of their profession, and assist in such swindling meanness? Egomet resolved, however, to visit the agency and make himself acquainted with its workings, even if he was bitten and added to the number of its victims. He wanted to find out the workings of the Church, to discover its best features, to ferret out its worst defects and abuses.

At length the sky cleared, the sun rose bright and cheery, and Egomet, duly equipped with the inseparable English umbrella, sallied out in search of the Underground Railway, his destination being the General Post Office. He had made arrangements for remittances to be for warded to meet him on his arrival, and as his purse, from travelling and other expenses was beginning to shrink to slender proportions, his first object was to obtain the much desired Bill of Exchange which he expected was waiting for him at St. Martin's le Grand. Arrived at the LONDON. 17 general delivery office, an application to the clerk revealed the fact that there was no letter for him. Egomet's countenance looked blank. He felt quite taken aback. What could he do ? It would be at least another week before the mail could arrive, and he knew that a stranger in London could not exist without money, and plenty of it too.

He felt, however, that discouragement would not mend matters, or provide for rent or future contingencies. He, therefore, though under anything but pleasurable feelings, directed his steps towards that part of the city where the clerical agencies were situated. He was threading and pushing his way among the countless throngs of pedestrians along Fleet Street and Temple Bar on to the Strand, pensive, moody, and abstracted, when he was arrested in his walk by a sudden blow on the back, whilst a voice, which he immediately recognized as having heard before, exclaimed — " Halloo, Egomet, what brings you here ? " Turning round, there stood before him a brother clergyman, an American, a chaplain of the military forces of the United States, who had been rector of the parish adjoining those of which Egomet had charge.

He with his wife had recently come over to England, on leave of absence, the members of his church having contributed one hundred pounds towards defraying the expenses of the trii). His hands had met Egomet's with warm grasp and hearty shaking. " But how sad and gloomy you look, Egomet." " You would look so," replied Egomet, " if you got into the predicament in which I am." " How so ? " asked the chaplain, whom we will intro duce to our readers as the Rev. Mr. A ; "how so?" " Why, I came over rather suddenly on account of my health, and, not liking to carry much money about me, made arrangements for remittances to be sent to me. They have not arrived. My purse is almost empty. You would look gloomy if you were in the same fix as I am." "Oh, is that all?" exclaimed Mr. A , thrusting his hand into his pocket and taking out a roll of American notes, which he forthwith thrust into Egomet's hand.

" Will that help you ? Come, cheer up, my good fellow. No, don't count them ! " — Egomet had already seen that it was notes to the amount of more than twenty pounds that were thus generously thrust upon him. — " No, don't count them, and if you get short again, come to me. Here is the Bodega, let us go and have a biscuit and a glass of sherry ; Wifey will go with us. Come along, Egomet." A , Wifey, and Egomet, entered the Bodega. The biscuit and glass of sherry were not half so exhilarating as the unexpected act of friendship and roll of dollar bills in Egomet's pocket. A 's and his wifey's face were radiant with pleasure and delight at having been able to assist their friend. They were on their way to morning service at St. London. ig Paul's, while Egomet's business lay in an opposite direc tion. So, after mutual and warm shaking of hands, Egomet turned his steps once more in search of the Clerical Agency Office.

Chapter IV. The Clerical Agency Office

Proceeding up a narrow street, Egomet's attention was attracted to a stone building. A heavy oak door was at the entrance. A brass plate with ecclesiological lettering informed the inquirer that " The Church Agency " had its offices there. Entering and following the directions of a hand painted in black with the forefinger pointing upwards, Egomet ascended a broad stairway, which led to a landing, at the end of which were folding-doors, glazed in the upper half with cathedral glass. There was a bell pull with brass plate and direction — "PLEASE RING TWICE." Egomet obeyed, the folding-doors opened, and a voice called out, " Come in." Egomet entered, and was met by a young clerk-like individual, who asked — " What can I do for you ? " Egomet briefly informed him, whereupon the clerk, leading him into a private room, handed a schedule, and asked him to fill it up according to age, college degree, references, and requirements, more especially stipend.

Egomet complied, and handed back the paper. Glancing THE CLERICAL AGENCY OFFICE. 21 over this, and eyeing the applicant from head to foot, the agent remarked — "You are just the man to suit a rector who has just left the office. But, first of all, please sign this memo randum in compliance with our terms for transacting business. They are contained in our printed monthly circulars. Look over them. Here are three ; one for curates, another for rectors and vicars, and the third for the sale of livings " " For the sale of livings," exclaimed Egomet. " I thought that was forbidden by the laws against Simony." " So it is, but the law is readily evaded by the interpo sition of a third party, so that the real purchaser can swear he has not given any consideration whatever for the living ; but of course all parties are bound to keep secrecy.

Look over them at your leisure, and come in again whenever you pass by the office. The papers and the books of reference arc always at the service of our clients. Good morning ! " Egomet's keen penetration detected a sharpness and slipperincss under the assumed sleekness and suavity of this specimen of a clerical agent, and bearing in his hand the pamphlets, descended into the street, unconsciously humming to himself the air : 1 ' \Yon't you walk into my parlour ? Said the spider to the fly." His feelings were a prophetic prelude of what he after wards experienced to his cost. -, - ONLY A CURATE. Arrived at his lodgings, he threw himself on a sofa and read as follows — " Clergymen requiring curates are charged no fee. " Curates seeking engagements are charged from three to sive guineas, according to stipend.

N.B. — All fees must be paid at time of engagement.'' Egomet threw down the pamphlet in disgust. What, thought he, have bishops and clergy sanctioned the em ployment of secular agents to supply the wants of the Church ? Why does not the bishop, either through the Diocesan Registrar or the cathedral staff, establish an office for introducing curates and supplying vacancies in the Church, without subjecting applicants to the indignity of applying to a secular agent and submitting to his charges. The enormous profits which are annually derived from the traffic in patronage, and what amounts in many cases to a trading upon the necessities of de serving and oftentimes impoverished curates, are a disgrace and scandal to a Christian nation. Egomet took up the other papers in turn, and read of advowsons, livings, next presentations, and donatives' for sale.

A short perusal sufficed to show the iniquitous cor ruptions which existed in the church established by law, and arc carried out and perpetuated by secular agencies to the detriment and disgrace of the Christian community. ' Advowson : the freehold of a parochial charge. Donative : Church emolument without any duly.

Chapter V

A VISIT FROM A COUNTRY RECTOR. LAMBETH PALACE AND BROAD SANCTUARY. The following day, whilst Egomet was engaged in writing letters, a tap at the door was heard, and the attendant, entering, announced that a gentleman, who looked like a clergyman, had called to inquire after the Reverend Mr. Egomet, and was waiting in the drawing-room below. Egomet, wondering who the stranger could be, threw down his pen, descended the staircase, and, entering the apartment, was met by a rather portly but not pompous man, of about sixty-five years of age. His dress was of a dark grey, but not according to clerical cut and fashion. He had the appearance rather of a well-to-do farmer than of a clergyman, but his manner and address were easy if not graceful ; he spoke softly, his language was grammati cally correct, if the words were not always appropriate.

Extending his right hand, he took that of Egomet as he said — " I understand that you are a clergyman from America, and being in want of a reliable man to take charge of my parish for six months in shire, I have been recom. ONE V A CUR A TE. 24 mended to you. Will you go down ? I will pay your expenses ; you shall have the free use of the rectory, ser vants, attendance, everything to yourself. I will pay you at the rate of per annum, and send you a cheque for twenty as soon as you write me from the parish. What do you say ? But first, I may tell you, you must go to the Archbishop of Canterbury, show your papers, and get his permission. What do you say ? " Egomet was taken by surprise. He did not expect such an application. Six months ; sixty pounds — twenty clown. He hesitated. " There will be very little work," continued his visitor.