The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1886-03-24
The Living Of SlOptOn Void.

d l am aware that my great success in
life has been a matter of surprise to
many of my acquaintances, who, judg-
ing me from the fact that took merely
q poll degree at Cambridge, and know
ing that I possessed neither influence
nor exceptional abilities, deem that my
fortunes have far exceeded my deserts.
| am not ignorant that there are some,
even among my warmest friends, who
hint that the means by which / obtained
| my advancement and happiness were
not altogether creditable to me. 1t is
in order to refute these imputations and
clear away any mystery that surrounds
the matter that have resolved to re-
| late the following narrative:
When | became curate to the Rev.
Herbert Jones, vicar of Cloverfield,
though still young, had lost almost all
hope of preferment. 1t was my third
curacy; but my ambition, which for
some time had lain dormant, was again
reused by the wears lovely and amia-
BILE daughter. Fanny was an only child,
and when l first saw her had just
reached her twentieth year. l fell in
love; but the noblest lady in the land
could scarcely have seemed further re-
moved from me. AS have said, l had
no prospects, and the vicar, though not
wealthy, mingled on terms of equality
with the surrounding county families,
among whom, with good reason, both
he and his wife expected suitable
match for their charming daughter.
Though she could not fail to be con-
scious of the sentiments l entertained
toward her, fer l confess l made them
manifest, Fanny did not in any way
encourage my advances, and, indeed,
encouragement on her part would only
have been cruel coquetry or folly, as
she understood as well as myself the
seemingly impossible gulf that divided
us. The unvarying amiability of her
conduct toward me, however, kept alive
the passion | cherished, and fed my
hopes scarcely less than actual profess
sions of love. / had been two years in
Cloverfield when the rector of the
neighboring parish of Sheppington died.
The living was in the gift of the bishop,
and though it was a poor one, it would
have amply satisfied my ambition,
could but have spent the remainder of
my days in the quiet parsonage with
her loved. AT the same time, not far
from us, another living was vacant, of
very different kind, that of Slopton
Void, one of the richest in the country.
The patron was our squire, Sir Peter
Surlyman. Sir Peter was a hard-riding,
hard-drinking country gentleman, but
he was a sound churchman, a regular
church-goer, good authority on ecclesi
astical matters, and, stranger still, a
lover of eloquent preaching and an
admirable critic of a sermon. Now our
bishop, as is well-known, had the repu-
tation of being one of the most eloquent
living pulpit orators, and being DESTROYS
of obtaining the living of Slopton Void
for his brother, country rector with a
moderate income and large family, he
had made an arrangement with Mr..
Jones that he should preach in Glover
field, while Sir Peter was at home, and
dine with the baronet afterward at the
vicarage, when he intended to urge his
brothers. claims. Though no actual
negotiations had yet passed between
them, the persons chiefly concerned
understood the matter perfectly. Sir
Peter knew why the bishop was coming
to Cloverfield; he greatly admired his
eloquence, and was willing to accede to
his wishes, as there was no one upon
whom he specially wished to confer his
valuable patronage.
That the sequel may be better under
stood, must here make short digres-
sion on the subject of my own sermons.
Among the ISLANDERS already referred to
is the report, which has reached my
ears, that do not write my own SER
mons; it has even been said by some
that buy them-statements, | need
hardly say, which are false. / do not,
however, claim entire originality for my
sermons. l have an extensive theO-
logical library filled with the works of
many of our greatest divines, and / am
accustomed to draw freely upon their
thoughts and even their language; but
the selection, arrangement, cOmbina-
ton and many illustrations are entirely
my own. My sermons are carefully
written out by me, and | consider my
claim to them is at least as strong as
that of the authors of much of oul
original literature to their productions
may add that / possess considerable
Evolutionary powers, which have care
fully cultivated, and that was though
by many to be second to the gentleman
who obtained the reading prize il
chapel at my college in Cambridge.
The day of the bishops sermon ar
rived, and Sir Peter had accepted The
invitation to meet him at dinner at the
vicarage. The bishop was to preach il
the morning, and as the vicar had {
cold | was to conduct the services il
the afternoon. | had spent more thai
usual care in the construction of III,
sermon, for, if impressed the bishop
might he not reward me with Shopping
ton? The church was crowded, ant
the red face of Sir Peter Surlyman was
conspicuous in the foremost pew. AL
most Immediately after the bishop en-
tered the pulpit / noticed that he wa
disconnected. The majority of TIT
congregation did not, dare say, observ,
that anything was wrong, but coulC
plainly see that he was disconnected
and more; experience taught me from
his movements that he had lost his ser
monl Now the bishop could not, an,
more than myself, preach without hi
MS. Certain glances began to be ex
changed among the people owing to thu
delay. The audience sat expectan
while the prelate fumbled. As in al
probability he had brought only on
sermon, the gravity of the dilemm
could scarcely be overestimated. | wa
sitting close by him in the choir stalls
1 Il. Il 10 Ia 4.