common use, and also a little garden impaled between the stone wall and the south." This minute description. brings before us a humble, but pleasant parsonage of the end of the seventeenth century; and it is added that to the dwelling stood attached one barn of six bays, likewise built of clay and thatch; also one dovecote of timber and plaister, and one hempkiln. The glebe was stocked. Cows fed in the meadows, and pigs in the stye. A nag and two fillies occupied the stable, and flax and barley waved in the fields. The parishioners were, according to Wesley's daughter, "unpolished wights," "dull as asses," and with heads "impervious as stones." The clerical dress, the rustic manner, and the lowly employments of the Rector, are portrayed by another member of the gifted family: "To rub his cassock's draggled tail, Or reach his hat from off the nail, Or seek the key to draw the ale, To burn his pipe, or mend his clothes, Or nicely darn his russet hose, For comfort of his aged toes, So fine they cannot feel it." The outlay upon taking the new living amounted to £50-just one-fourth of the annual income of the living. It was a practice for parish officers to compel people to lighten parochial burdens by taking, as apprentices, the children of paupers; and one of these unfortunates was actually palmed on the Epworth Incumbent, who said he supposed he must teach the boy "to beat rhyme." These items are worth mentioning as illustrations of the times, and in this case they are interesting in connection with the early life of the founder of 1 Anecdotes of the Wesley Family, i. 207. Methodism and the master of English psalmody. The two boys played in the rectory garden; and from their parents derived some of the power and peculiarity of their mature life. The parents, it is curious to remember, differed on the Jacobite question; and a story is told to the effect that Wesley, observing that his wife did not pray for William, and hearing her declare she could regard him only as Prince of Orange, told her, in sorrowing words, "If that be the case, you and I must part; for if we have two Kings, we must have two beds." It is added that he took horse and rode to London; and being "Convocation man" for the diocese of Lincoln, resided in the Metropolis a whole year without corresponding with his family. The anecdote perhaps has in it much of exaggeration, and it has been questioned of late more than once, yet one would think there must be some truth in it, since it rests on the authority of John Wesley. At that time a mean-looking parsonage was the rule, not the exception : and even in the parish of Kensington, though honoured by the presence of Royalty, the vicarage is described as having been of a very humble character, with lattice windows. A large proportion of the livings were very poor, some as low as £14 or £15 per annum.2 Wesley's first income was £30 a year from a curacy in London; and if so small a sum was paid in the Metropolis, what must it have been in some of the provinces! The pitiful condition of clergymen under Charles II. could have undergone no great improvement under William III. Of course in places of importance, if clerical incomes happened to reach a large amount, a handsome rectory or vicarage might be found, of which a few, built in Sir Christopher Wren's time, with more regard to conve 1 See Kirk's Mother of the Wesleys, 186, and Tyerman's Life and Times of Samuel Wesley, 251. 2 See Ecton's Liber Valorum. nience than taste, still remain. Of nearly the same date, deaneries and prebendal houses still linger amongst us -and long may they linger-snugly ensconced amidst pleasant gardens, in those most pleasant of all English precincts our cathedral closes-so green and quiet, solemn and quaint. As in the reign of Charles II., so in the reign of William III., the office of chaplain in the families of the great was not enviable. The salary was small, the position undignified, the treatment often disrespectful, and the means of usefulness limited and questionable. In the Athenian Oracle, the chaplain of a family not very regular or religious-forced to see Misses drinking and gaming, and afraid to open his mouth on the subject-complains of the miseries of his situation; he inquires what he ought to do, so as neither to betray religion nor give offence. He could not believe that to say grace and read prayers, when his patron was at leisure, constituted his duty, yet he found his brethren thought they had done enough when they had done no more than that.1 Thomas Wilson, afterwards Bishop of Sodor and Man, certainly took a different view, for when chaplain and tutor to Lord Derby, he, with commendable faithfulness, rebuked his pupil's extravagance, so as to restore his reputation and relieve his creditors. Once, as the young nobleman was about to sign his name, he felt some melted sealing-wax dropped on his finger by this eccentric mentor, who remarked, that the pain ought to impress him with a resolution never to sign what he had never examined. 2 Clerical costume is a trifle worth only a passing sen 1 Athenian Oracle, i. 542, probably written by Samuel Wesley, and drawn from his own experience. 2 Keble's Life of Wilson, 61. The memory of Wilson is still cherished at Knowsley. tence, and it may be observed that it remained the same after the Revolution as before. But Archbishop Tillotson introduced a novelty. He is the first Prelate represented in a wig. The wig is of moderate dimensions, and not much unlike a head of natural hair. It is curious to find him remarking upon this innovation in one of his sermons. "I can remember, since the wearing the hair below the ears was looked upon as a sin of the first magnitude; and when ministers generally, whatever their text was, did either find or make occasion to reprove the great sin of long hair; and if they saw anyone in the congregation guilty in that kind, they would point him out particularly, and let fly at him with great zeal.” 1 Partly as the result of causes at work ever since the Restoration-such as the poverty, the imperfect education, and the unexemplary character of many incumbents and curates the Clergy, as a class, were in low esteem. What has been related of the profession in the reign of Charles II. produced effects which lasted long, and the conduct of a number of Constitutionalists, as well as of Jacobites, contributed to deepen the unpopularity of the order. Good men, lamenting the evils of the age, traced to them this state of feeling, and Robert Nelson speaks of the great contempt of the Clergy, than which he thought nothing could be a greater evidence of the decayed state of religion.2 Whatever may be the relation between social corruption and clerical unpopularity, it is certain the two things co-existed. Nelson deplored a decay of the spirit and life of devotion; 3 Thoresby declared that God seemed angry with the nation, as well He might, and so hid counsel 1 Planche's Hist. of British Costume, 395. 2 Preface to Companion for Fasts and Festivals. from men, and left them to take such courses as would be neither for their own nor the public good;1 and Burnet relates, that profane wits were delighted at the circulation of books against the Trinity; that it became a common thing to treat mysteries in religion as priestly contrivances; and that, under cover of popular expressions, the enemies of religion vented their impieties.2 Patrick lamented the prevalent coldness and carelessness in religion, "scarce an handful of people appearing in many churches at Divine Service, when the playhouses were crowded every day with numerous spectators; " and John Norris referred to the decay of Christian piety and the universal corruption of manners. Christ seemed to him, asleep in the sacred vessel, while the tempest raged, and the waves almost overwhelmed the bark. Students of prophecy, regarding the state of Christianity as anti-christianized, anticipated the outpouring of the vials of wrath, the breaking-up of Christendom, and the replacement of God's chosen people, the Jews, on the ruins of the Gentile Church.4 Profane swearing so far prevailed, that it is said in many circles a man's discourse was hardly agreeable without it;5 and it is remarkable that the instances given of John Howe's courtesy, and the wisdom with which he administered reproof, relates to the frequent utterance of oaths. On one occasion, a gentleman addicted to this practice expatiated at great length on the merits of Charles I. Howe remarked that in his enumeration of the excellencies of the unfortunate Sovereign, he had omitted one-that he was never known to utter an oath in common discourse. On another occasion, he heard two gentlemen 1 Thoresby iii. 153. 3 Works, viii. 451. 2 Hist. of his Own Time, ii. 211. • Reason and Faith. Introduction. 5 Wilson's Life of De Foe, i. 262. |