The parson was as well found in wigs as the doctor. Mandeville says of a wealthy parson, “His wigs are as fashionable as that form he is forced to comply with will admit of; but, as he is only stinted in their shape, so he takes care that for goodness of hair and colour few noblemen shall be able to match ’em.” It is encouraging to know that the clergy look so closely to the goodness of the article they put before us. Warton wrote an “Ode to a Grizzle Wig,” which is not the worst ingredient in that pleasant miscellany of his, “The Oxford Sausage:” “All hail, ye _Curls_, that rang’d in rev’rend row, With snowy pomp my conscious shoulders hide! That fall beneath in venerable flow, And crown my brows above with feathery pride! High on your summit, wisdom’s mimick’d air Sits thron’d with pedantry, her solemn sire, And in her net of awe-diffusing hair, Entangles fools, and bids the crowd admire. O’er every lock, that floats in full display, Sage ignorance her gloom scholastic throws; And stamps o’er all my visage, once so gay, Unmeaning gravity’s serene repose. * * * * * But thou, farewell, my _Bob_! whose thin wove thatch Was stor’d with quips and cranks, and wanton wiles, That love to live within the _one-curled scratch_, With fun and all the family of smiles. * * * * * No more the wherry feels my stroke so true; At skittles in a _grizzle_, can I play? Woodstock, farewell! and Wallingford adieu! Where many a scheme relieved the lingering day. Such were the joys that once HILARIO crown’d, Ere grave preferment came my peace to rob; Such are the less ambitious pleasures found Beneath the _liceat_ of an humble _Bob_.” But at Bath the clergy thought of other things beside divinity lectures and professorships. Anstey tells of a young spark of a clergyman sporting about in a more fashionable, but less canonical, coiffure than the grizzle-wig: “What a cropt head of hair the young parson has on Emerged from his grizzle, the unfortunate sprig Seems as if he were hunting all night for his wig.”