The Sun.
London, England, 1865-05-08 00:00:00

THE CURATE'S TRIALS

The large donation he had given to the school had been
received with anything rather than gratitude ; they thought
if he had so much money to give away, it would have been
much better bestowed in relieving temporal want. Where
there is actual bodily need people cannot be expected to
value much any means offered to them for the improve-
ment of the mind. Even those parents who never thought
of sending their children to Sadborough now stood up for
the Sadborough school, saying it was quite near. enough for
them, they did not want any other. So it was with every-
thing.

He was far too strict in his views for the great' number
—far too liberal minded for many more. He was sharing
the fate of all who attempt reform. Although those who
knew him personally could not help feeling real attach-
ment towards him, yet he was perfectly aware that all his
plans and endeavours for the improvement of the place in
any way were regarded with doubt and mistrust. Still
for all this he was not in the smallest degree angry—not
the least in any way put out. It would have been impos-
sible for such a feeling to have arisen in his heart. He
believed, on strong conviction, that ho was acting right,
and he was not to be turned from his purpose by a cold
look or a discouraging word. He was not a man who con-
s

dered he was made a martyr of by such things, neither
was he the least inclined to make apartyr of himself with-
out cause. It was not, however, by any means because
he was particularly mild or even tempered that he felt
no annoyance. There was simply no room for such a
feeling.

His thoughts going on from the woman who had de-
manded another shilling took in the whole of Sadbrooke,
the sad temporal want, the still more melancholy spiritual
need, the sheep who would not come into the fold, the
people struggling and striving so intently one against
another for the bread that perisheth, while they were
perishing, unknowing of their destitution, for want of that
which was to be had without money and without price—
the bread that endureth unto everlasting life.
But his thoughts did not rest even there ; going on
from Sadbrooke, they went on, taking in many other vil-
lages like it, the many other towns like Sadborough—the
sin and the sorrow, the suffering and the evil all around.
Nor was this here alone. England, with all this, was
better off than other lands. The cry was going up from
the whole earth ; still worse did it arise from heathen lands,
homes of darkness and of the shadow of death. And so
thinking, as far as could be heard by mortal ears, there
sounded to him then the one wail that is ever going up to
Heaven, the cry of the whole creation groaning in suffer-
ing together.
Yet even for all this sorrow and suffering there was the
one remedy—the one way of deliverance—there was mercy
waiting for all who would seek it ; the suffering was not
to endure for ever—it was tho trial time now, the bright
light might ever be seen in the cloud. But how grievous,
how fearful to think of the multitudes who preferred dark-
ness to light, who chose sin rather than holiness ; and the
few, the very few, struggling for the good! To see
the fields laying white together for harvest, and to
know how few labourers were entered into the harvest !

With thoughts attuned to this height, could there be
any room for such an idea as self-annoyance ? The one
feeling that filled his mind, that was deeply fixed in
his heart, was that of pity—pity for the perishing souls,
pity for those who, thirsting and dying all around,
would yet not drink of the water of lifo, not accept that
message of love and mercy which was for him to deliver,
that message which it owned so strange to him they

would not accept, and which he was ready, in church,
in the school, in the cottages, by the wayside, wherever
there were ears to hear, wherever there were souls to bo
saved, to declare.

This passage is sufficient to interest many in the
Curate of Sadbrooke. His character is very natu-
rally depicted in its varying phases, as is that of his
brother, who forms a fitting contrast to him. Very
charming is the gentle little heroine, and the scene
in which nolens volens she gives the purse intended
for another to the unbeloved suitor is very grace-
fully described. A more tragic interest attaches to
some of the minor characters of the tale. The un-
happy Jem, the widow's son, who keeps away from
school and falls a prey to the evil counsels of a
chance acquaintance, his mother's lodger, is no
doubt the sad history of many in similar circum-
stances. The incident of Jem's terror when, at the
attempted robbery of the poor-box at the church
door, the church bell rings out, is vividly told, only
it reminds us (no doubt without any intention
on the a uthor's part) of a similar but (need we say ?)
infinitely more powerful scene, namely, that thrilling
scene familiar to all the readers of Barnaby Rudge.
No lingering pity for Jem prevents the author from
pointing the moral of his evil ways. Too late his
poor mother bewails her careless neglect, too late
the unthinking friend who had thrown him in the
way of his evil genius laments the issue of the ill-
advised companionship. All is over with the un-
happy boy ; " but no !" exclaims the writer, " all
is not yet over !"