The Recreations of a Country ParsonBoyd, Andrew Kennedy Hutchison
General
The Recreations of a Country Parson
Boyd, Andrew Kennedy Hutchison
Clergy -- Anecdotes; Country life -- England; Rural clergy -- England
I had been for more than five years in that sweet country place: it
seemed a very long time as the days passed over. Even slow-growing
ivy grew feet longer in that time, and climbing roses covered yards
and yards of wall. And for very many months I thought that here I
was to live and die, and never dreamt of change. Not indeed that
my tastes were always such. At the beginning of that term of years,
when I went down each Sunday morning to preach in the plain little
church to a handful of quiet rustic people, I used to think of
a grand edifice where once upon a time, at my first start in my
profession, I had preached each afternoon for many months to a very
large congregation of educated folk; and I used to wonder whether
my old friends remembered and missed me. Once there was to me
a fascination about that grand church, and all connected with it:
now it is to me no more than it is to every one else, and I pass
near it almost every day and hardly look at it. Other men have
taken my old place in it, and had the like feelings, and got over
them. Several of these men I never saw: how much I should like to
shake each man's hand! But all these fancies were long, long ago:
I was pleased to be a country parson, and to make the best of it.
Friends, who have held like stations in life, have you not felt,
now and then, a little waking up of old ideas and aspirations? All
this, you thought, was not what you once had wished, and pictured
to yourself. You vainly fancied, in your student days, that you
might reach a more eminent place and greater usefulness. I know,
indeed, that even such as have gone very unwillingly to a little
remote country parish, have come most heartily to enjoy its peaceful
life: have grown fond of that, as they never thought to do. I do
not mean that you need affectedly talk, after a few months there,
as if you had lived in the country all your life, and as if your
thoughts had from childhood run upon horses, turnips, and corn. But
in sober earnest, as weeks pass over, you gain a great interest in
little country cares; and you discover that you may be abundantly
useful, and abundantly laborious, amid a small and simple population.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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