CHAPTER IV.
Mr. Spencer Becomes Rector Of Brington.
Mr. Vigoreux, Rector of Brington, sent in his resignation of the living to the Bishop towards the close of the year 1824. The letters which are found among Father Ignatius's papers show this transaction to have been very creditable to the Spencer family. The old rector was on the continent,—he seems to have been very much in debt to Lord Spencer, and upon his resigning his living, Lord Spencer not only cancelled the debt, but made him so far independent for life, that the old clergyman, in sheer gratitude, ordered £7. 10s. to be distributed every year among the poor of the parish, whilst he lived. George was transported with delight at the news, which was given him by a lawyer in Northampton, on the 8th November in this year, that Mr. Vigoreux had resigned. Mr. Spencer is full of his secret, and he and a brother clergyman have a very pleasant evening in telling "secrets" to each other—George about the rectorship, his friend about his intended marriage. Things go on quietly now until the usual Christmas assemblage of the family at Althorp, and George's reflection on his birthday is this: "That my life past, in the main, has been mis-spent, wasted, and worse than wasted. Last year I have become confirmed in the first of all professions, and I truly desire that I may grow riper and stronger in my office." For a while he resists the temptation to join in the sports of the young gentlemen at Althorp; at length he gives in; he plays a few rubbers at whist in compliment to his father, and thanks God that he plays worse and worse every day. He also takes a few shots; but finding his old eagerness returning, he throws up the gun at once, and goes to visit the sick and the poor.
On the 12th January he is presented by his father with the living of Brington, is instituted by the Bishop two days after, and inducted by a neighbouring clergyman on the 20th of the same month. He is now in possession of a good income, can afford to pay a curate to do his drudgery, and might follow the example of non-residence which was then so common; but he does nothing of the kind. A fat parsonage does not come to him with an arm-chair or a sofa, and invite him to sit down and take his rest. He considers now that the weight of the charge obliges him to redouble his labours; he continues to write his sermons twice over, and never misses to have one for every Sunday. It was his custom to give, what he called a lecture, on Sunday evenings, —he now gives a full sermon; he also increases the days of attendance in church as far as he can, for we find him beating up for an attendance on Ash-Wednesday; and this he calls an innovation. He gets a little keener in the spirit of asceticism just now, for he tries to conceal his austerities; and on a day he fasted till six he says: "I wish I could root out that devil of ambition and vain-glory." Probably it was about this time that the incident happened he used often to relate to his religious brethren in after-life. One day he thought to conceal his fast; but the housekeeper brought up the toast for breakfast, and if he sent it down untouched she would have discovered his abstinence; he put it in the cupboard and locked it up; by-and-by the odour it emitted perfumed the whole place, to the no small astonishment of the housemaid. The end of it was, that every one discovered what he tried to conceal even from one.
We find a thorough absorption of his energies in the work of his ministry apparent in every page of his journal, as also from the testimony of those who knew him at that period. One little remark will throw light upon his interior:—"My dear Lyttelton,—Sal and the children went away at 6½. I heard the sad departing wheels out of bed. Thank God I have heretofore found happiness in my solitude, and shall do so again, I trust. His word, and the way of His Commandments, they are my joy. May I grow in the knowledge and practice of them, and I desire no more for this world." Another instance of his devotion to his ministry may be seen in the following:—"Tuesday, March 22.—Rose (a neighbouring clergyman) and I began talking about 8½, and hardly ceased till 12 at night. Our subject was religion and the Church, chiefly."
What beautiful material was there in this excellent clergyman! and had he been where his spirit would be understood, or where one knew how to direct him, what might he not become? He found himself in a Church where spirituality and asceticism are exotics, and cannot thrive, notwithstanding that the Scriptures are so emphatic in exhorting us to practise them. Then, if he took them up, he knew not how far to go, or at what point to restrain himself. He had no manuals, no guides; but vague attempts at fulsome piety written for fellow-workmen, who differed with him on the very first principles of faith. He was, therefore, utterly left to his own views and fancies, and what he considered grace and inspiration. He was getting too unworldly for his position, too single-minded, and too earnest for the easy-going clerical gentlemen who formed the bulk of his acquaintances. Not that the majority did not do their duty. To be sure they did; but what was it? To read a sermon from a desk on a Sunday; to pay visits, and read a chapter of the Bible to a dying sinner. The Evangelical counsels, without which, in some degree or other, Christian perfection is unattainable, are exploded anachronisms in the Established of souls, as the outcry against those within its pale, who try to revive them, but too clearly proves. Ecclesiastical virtue, with them, does not differ from secular virtue, any more than the virtue of a Member of Parliament differs from that of a Town Councillor. They are both expected to be gentlemen, and to keep the rules of propriety the public thinks proper to expect from their position. That is all. "Oh!" as poor Father Ignatius used to say, "shall these dry bones live?" Thou knowest, Lord, whether they shall or not; they don't; and in his time they were farther from it than they are now. We must therefore expect, from the nature of the case, what is to follow in the next chapter. He goes perfectly astray, in his pursuit after what the "Church of his baptism" could not give him. It was fortunate that he strayed in the end from a wrong path into the right one, by the way of too far East being West.
Easter Sunday in this year he counts the happiest day he spent up to this, though he had only fifty-eight communicants, a decrease since his first Easter. His point of bringing all to the sacrament was not carried. He had even bishops opposing him in this, as in everything else that was not half world, half God.
The next thing he notices is, that an archdeacon gave a good charge, "though against the Catholics,—a questionable topic." Mr. Spencer had no special love for Catholics; on the contrary, he thought themselves absurd, their doctrines abominable, and their ceremonies mummery. He was of the Spencer family though, and in them there was an inbred love of justice and fair-play. Lord Spencer and his son, Lord Althorp, both favoured and spoke for emancipation. They thought the Catholics aggrieved, and if they were Turks, they did not see why they should cease to be men and subjects of the English crown. That was plain common sense; besides, Mr. Spencer had not got so high in Church views as some of his friends, who favoured Catholics before their elevation and opposed them after it, to please a king. The Spencers were generously liberal in all their dealings, and even when the subject of this biography, the delight of the family, thought fit to become a Catholic, their conduct towards him was worthy of their name. We shall have to refer to this afterwards; the allusion is made now only to show that the tenour of their opinions was not the creature of a whim or an ephemeral fancy, but a grave, steady, and well-disciplined feeling. Praise be to them for it. Would that their imitators were more numerous.
He has also another project on hand at this time, besides the evangelizing of his flock. He begins to build a new rectory. He gets an architect from London; has suggestions from the family about the length and breadth of the apartments; others, more poetical, survey the site to give their sentiments about the view from the parlour window; the older portion have their say about the comfort of the different rooms, with regard to size, position, and plastering. Some few even make presents of articles of furniture, and a near relation gives him a beautiful bed, which commodity has many paragraphs of the journal dedicated to its praises and suitableness. The building is at last begun, and we must say something of the progress of his interior castle whilst we let the bricklayers obey the orders of the builder and architect.