of the curates, and the little rank the Bristol people allow them to maintain in society, the ladies have imbibed all the prejudices of the men against them; and, when accosted by a PARISH BIRD, as they call a curate, they can with difficulty stifle their antipathy, or hide from him the most ungracious and sovereign contempt of the mind. If they meet him by accident in company, they gape and nod at each other; and, if he dare to approach, they burst with laughing, or look splenetic. When they retire from his church, the street rings with the most capricious judgments upon his style of preaching. An animated preacher is impudent; a mild one is a driveller; the declamator is a bell-wether; the narrator is a drone. He who is orthodox is accused of intolerancy; and he who thinks freely is condemned as a poor fanatic soul; and while attending to him they have more the gesture of satirists than of religionatists; at the least word that he utters incorrectly, they express a stare of astonish-ment,

D. 4

ment, and look as if they were interpreting it to the worst sense to which it could possibly be condemned. In short, they hold them in such contempt, and hold themselves so eminent in science, situation, and taste, that they cannot resolve to own any thing good a curate says or does. They seldom approve the sermon, because they are instructed to despise the man. He is too delicate, or too morose; too apparently innocent of the world, or too palpably learned in its ways; he is a knave or fool, libertine or misanthropist; a being who cannot possibly please, and who can never be admired."

Henry revolted suddenly at this picture of Mrs. Percy's drawing, and exclaimed, "What, Madam! is there is no sense of pride, indignation, or shame, in the curates. of Bristol, that they submit to this atrocious conduct, and evince no spirit of dissatisfaction and disdain? Why, such treatment must surely indulge an inclination, between the citizens and the clergy, to dissension, hatred,

and

and slander, and become an unexhaustible source of complaints, reproaches, and invectives. One should think that a place enjoying the religious reputation of Bristol, would be superior to the hurly-burly of disputes, quarrels and broils, which a variance with their clergy must daily create; and it is as natural to think, that men bred like the clergy would exert themselves to stand upon the high ground they are allowed by socie ty at large, and not suffer themselves to be trampled upon, and called by the opprobrious names of Parish, and other ominous Birds. Is the animosity of Bristol caused by the poverty of the curate?. If so, can there be a greater cruelty than to despise a person under the misfortune of want? Has not the poor curate already particular troubles enough, unless you add raillery to insult, and reproach to oppression? The of fensive names of Bell-wether, Mumbler, and Parish Bird, ought not to enter into the discourse of the religious, nor any other injurious terms that rouse an idea of con

tempt against the ministers of the church. But, tell me, as your experience and infor mation extend so wide, do curates submit to this ignominious treatment any length of time? Are they not perpetually abdicating their post, and changing to places more likely to treat them with decency and respect ?"

"'Tis not always by resentment, and making most noise, that we justify ourselves," replied Mrs. Percy; "a man of honour, whose conscience has nothing to reproach him, when he is unjustly treated, modestly rests satisfied with the testimony of his own heart, compensating himself in the pleasures of retirement for the ingratitude that is shewn him in the world. But there have been many curates of too delicate a sensibility to stifle their resentment, and who have left Bristol, retorting the affronts of the citizens, and shaking the dust off their sandals at their gates, resolved to publish the hoggish treatment they received to all part of the world where their voice might

be

be heard. This treatment, Henry, you appear to attribute to the poverty of the curate; in this you are not exactly correct. We must trace the prejudice to a higher cause. The common infatuation of people meanly born, who have made their fortunes by trade, is to put themselves on a level with those of the first quality, and disdain their equals; they presently forget what they were before their rise. Their train and table, with the deferences that are paid them, insensibly accustom them to believe that their wealth equals them with peers, and make them despise those that are not able to live so great. This is the character of the gentry of Bristol; and the curates, though sensible of this weakness, oppose it by refusing them the rank they expect, and by discovering a malicious satisfaction at the vanity and ignorance of their wouldbe-superiors. To discover this satisfaction, ad to assume a little street-consequence, the curates affect that swelled step and mistaken haughtiness which sets the citizens