* * * * *

“The Psalms that day offered a fine field for his Anglo-Saxon plurals and south-country terminations; the ‘housen,’ ‘priestesses,’ ’beasteses of the field,’ came rolling freely forth from his mouth, upon which no remonstrances by the curate had had the smallest effect.  Was he, Michael Major, who had fulfilled the important office ’afore that young jackanapes was born, to be teached how ‘twere to be done?’ he had observed more than once in rather a high tone, though in general he patronised the successive occupants of the pulpit with much kindness.  ’And this ‘un, as cannot spike English nayther,’ he added superciliously concerning the north-country accent of his pastor and master.”

On weekdays he wore a smock-frock, which he called his surplice, with wonderful fancy stitches on the breast and back and sleeves.  At length he had to resign his post and take to his bed, and was not afraid to die when his time came.  It is a very tender and touching little story, a very faithful picture of an old clerk[43].

[Footnote 43:  Essays and Tales, by Frances Parthenope Lady Verney, p. 67.]

Passing from grave to gay, we find Tom Hood sketching the clerk attending on his vicar, who is about to perform a wedding service and make two people for ever happy.  He christens the two officials “the joiners, no rough mechanics, but a portly full-blown vicar with his clerk, both rubicund, a peony paged by a pink.  It made me smile to observe the droll clerical turn of the clerk’s beaver, scrubbed into that fashion by his coat at the nape.”

Few people know Alexander Pope’s Memoir of P.P., Clerk of this Parish, which was intended to ridicule Burnet’s History of His Own Time, a work characterised by a strong tincture of self-importance and egotism.  These are abundantly exposed in the Memoir, which begins thus: 

“In the name of the Lord, Amen.  I, P.P., by the Grace of God, Clerk of this Parish, writeth this history.

“Ever since I arrived at the age of discretion I had a call to take upon me the Function of a Parish Clerk, and to this end it seemed unto me meet and profitable to associate myself with the parish clerks of this land, such I mean as were right worthy in their calling, men of a clear and sweet voice, and of becoming gravity.”

He tells how on the day of his birth Squire Bret gave a bell to the ring of the parish.  Hence that one and the same day did give to their own church two rare gifts, its great bell and its clerk.

Leaving the account of P.P.’s youthful amours and bouts at quarter-staff, we next find that: 

“No sooner was I elected into my office, but I layed aside the gallantries of my youth and became a new man.  I considered myself as in somewise of ecclesiastical dignity, since by wearing of a band, which is no small part of the ornaments of our clergy, might not unworthily be deemed, as it were, a shred of the linen vestments of Aaron.