“And don’t let us give way to the vulgar prejudice that clergyman are an overpaid and luxurious body of men. * * * From reading the works of some modern writers of repute, you would fancy that a parson’s life was passed in gorging himself with plum-pudding and port wine; and that his Reverence’s fat chaps were always greasy with the crackling of tithe pigs. Caricaturists delight to represent him so: round, short-necked, pimple-faced, apoplectic, bursting out of waistcoat like a black-pudding, a shovel-hatted fuzz-wigged Silenus.” Whereas, he goes on at length to show, the reverse is the case. Both sides are more or less illustrative of the _argument ad hominem_. It is Trollope who really writes of Clerical Snobs. The house-party at Chalicotes shelters a hierarchy. Mr. Robarts arrives,--[315] “And then the vicar shook hands with Mrs. Proudie, in that deferential manner which is due from a vicar to his bishop’s wife; and Mrs. Proudie returned the greeting with all that smiling condescension which a bishop’s wife should show to a vicar.” From here the “young, flattered fool of a parson” is persuaded to go to Gatherum Castle and there gets into trouble. Brought to his senses, he meditates ruefully,--[316] “Why had he come to this horrid place? Had he not everything at home which the heart of man could desire? No; the heart of man can desire deaneries--the heart, that is, of the man vicar; and the heart of the man dean can desire bishoprics; and before the eyes of the man bishop does there not loom the transcendental glory of Lambeth?” The mixture of affectionate indulgence, shrewd amusement, and fundamental loyalty which made up Trollope’s attitude is recorded in this symbolic portrait:[317] “As the archdeacon stood up to make his speech, erect in the middle of that little square, he looked like an ecclesiastical statue placed there, as a fitting impersonation of the church militant here on earth; his shovel-hat, large, new, and well-pronounced, a churchman’s hat in every inch, declared the profession as plainly as does the Quaker’s broad brim; his heavy eye-brows, large, open eyes, and full mouth and chin expressed the solidity of his order; the broad chest, amply covered with fine cloth, told how well to do was its estate; one hand ensconced within his pocket evinced the practical hold which our mother church keeps on her temporal possessions; and the other, loose for action, was ready to fight, if need be, in her defense; and, below these, the decorous breeches, and neat black gaiters showing so admirably that well-turned leg, betokened the stability, the decency, the outward beauty and grace of our church establishment.” It is naturally in the Cathedral Series that clerical matters most abound, but they appear in other volumes, especially _The Bertrams_. Caroline Waddington, speaking of vicars, makes an empiric induction:[318]