Thus were his weekly journeys made,
'Neath summer suns and wintry shade;
And all his gains, it did appear,
Were only thirty pounds a-year."
And when the last event of his hard-working life was over--
"The village wept, the hamlets round
Crowded the consecrated ground;
And waited there to see the end
Of Pastor, Teacher, Father, Friend."
Who could write a better epitaph?
Doubtless the crying evil of what is called "the dead period" of the
Church's history was pluralism. It was no uncommon thing for a clergyman
to hold half a dozen benefices, in one of which he would reside, and
appoint curates with slender stipends to the rest, only showing himself
"when tithing time draws near."
When Bishop Stanley became Bishop of Norwich in 1837 there were six
hundred non-resident incumbents, a state of things which he did a vast
amount of work to remedy. Mr. Clitherow tells me of a friend who was
going to be married and who requested a neighbour to take his two
services for him during his brief honeymoon. The neighbour at first
hesitated, but at last consented, having six other services to take on
the one Sunday.
An old clergyman named Field lived at Cambridge and served three country
parishes--Hauxton, Newton, and Barnington. On Sunday morning he used to
ride to Hauxton, which he could see from the high road to Newton.
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