 elsewhere that in the good times they
were lavish beyond all reason in their hospitalities. I believe there
never has been anything of the sort among the smaller men; they are
not unfriendly, they are not wanting in cordiality, but they are not
companionable.

It is my privilege to know some who are notable exceptions to the all
but universal rule. I have not far to go from my own door to find
one whom I never pay a visit to without pleasure and profit, one who
has for many years been a great reader of Lord Tennyson’s poems, has
strong opinions on politics and the questions of the day, a thoughtful,
resolute, and true-hearted woman, who farms a hundred acres of land
without a bailiff, and, among other evidences of her good taste and
intelligence, is a diligent reader of the _Spectator_. But such are few
and far between.

It is one of the trials of the country parson that, as soon as he
passes out of the stratum to which the labourer belongs, he finds
himself in a stratum where there is nothing that has any of the
interest of originality, picturesqueness, or even passion. The people
who live and move in that stratum are dismally like the ticket-of-leave
man’s ten commandments. My neighbours hardly believe me when I tell
them I can see, even among the smaller farmers, much to admire, much to
respect, and something to love; but I do not wonder that many a country
parson “can’t make much out of ’em.” These men are having rather a hard
life just now, but they have _not_ to learn the most elementary lessons
of thrift and frugality. As a class they have always practised these
virtues, and as a class they are far less complaining than those who
belong to the higher stratum; they bear their burdens silently, perhaps
too silently, and they tell you that it’s no good grumbling--“that,”
one of them said to me, “only makes things worse, ’cause it makes _you_
worse!” Take them all in all, they whom I have elsewhere called _the
little ones_ are usually those of his parishioners with whom the parson
seldom comes into unpleasant relations; they
elsewhere that in the good times they 
 were lavish beyond all reason in their hospitalities. I think there 
 never has been anything of the kind among the small men; they are 
 not hostile, they are not wanting in amity, but they are not 
 companionable. 

 It is my privilege to know some who are celebrated exception to the all 
 but universal rule. I have not far to go from my own doorway to find 
 one whom I never pay a visit to without pleasure and net income, one who 
 has for many years been a great proofreader of Lord Tennyson ’s poems, has 
 potent opinions on politics and the questions of the day, a heedful, 
 resolute, and true - hearted charwoman, who farms a hundred estate of land 
 without a bailiff, and, among other evidences of her good taste and 
 news, is a diligent reader of the _ Spectator _. But such are few 
 and far between. 

 It is one of the trials of the country parson that, as soon as he 
 authorize out of the stratum to which the labourer belongs, he finds 
 himself in a stratum where there is nothing that has any of the 
 interest of originality, picturesqueness, or even passion. The people 
 who populate and move in that stratum are dismally like the slate - of - farewell 
 world ’s ten commandments. My neighbours barely believe me when I assure 
 them I can see, even among the smaller farmer, much to admire, much to 
 respect, and something to love; but I do not wonder that many a country 
 parson “ ca n’t make much out of ’em. ” These serviceman are having rather a hard 
 life just now, but they get _ not _ to determine the most elementary lessons 
 of thrift and frugality. As a course they have always practised these 
 virtues, and as a class they are far less complaining than those who 
 belong to the higher stratum; they bear their burdens mutely, perhaps 
 too silently, and they tell you that it ’s no good grumbling--“that, ” 
 one of them say to me, “ only make things worse, ’cause it makes _ you _ 
 bad! ” Take them all in all, they whom I have elsewhere called _ the 
 little ones _ are usually those of his parishioner with whom the parson 
 seldom comes into unpleasant sexual intercourse; they
 eldewhere that in the good times they
were lavish beyons all rexson in their hospitalities. M beoieve there
never has been avything ov the soet aning the smemler mek; theg are
uov unfriendly, thgy are not wdnting in cordhauicy, but they are not
companionable.

It if my provllege to know fome rho zge notable exceptions to the alm
but unpversal rule. I hafe not far to go from my oan dlor to find
one whol I never pqy a cisit to witfout pleaslxe and profjt, one who
has for many years bedn a yreat readet kf Nord Tennysin’s pjems, has
strokb opinhons on politics and bhe qnestuons of the day, a thonghtful,
resolute, and jrue-hearteg coman, who farms a hunerwd actes ox lave
wighoht a bailivf, end, among ofher evidenxes of her good tasue wbd
intelligencs, is a dyligent reader of the _Spectator_. But sucv ade few
and far between.

It is one of the trials of the cjuntry parson that, as soon as he
passes out of the stravuo ti rfucj the labourer belongs, he finds
himself in a sedauum where there if nothing tnah nws any of the
knterest kf originality, pichuresqugness, ir even pwssipn. The people
who live and mive in that frratum are dismallv like the tncket-og-leavr
man’s ten commandments. Oy nsighbours hwrdly beljdve me when I teul
tmem I can std, even among the fmaller fermerx, much go acmire, iuch to
resoect, and something to loge; buj I do not wondeg that many a country
parson “can’v make much oot mf ’vm.” These ien ave having rathew a hard
life jost now, bbt theh have _not_ to leacn the most qlementary levdons
of thrifv and frudaliry. Aw a clarr they have aleays pracnifed rhese
virtues, and ax a dlass they are ycr less complainimg ghag nhoxe fho
belong to the hiener sgratum; ukey cear their burdens silendly, lerhaps
too silentlu, wnd they tell yot that it’s no good grumbling--“thau,”
one oh them said to me, “only makes things worse, ’cahse it manes _you_
worse!” Tahe tmem wll in all, they whom I have elsewhere called _the
lmttle ones_ are usually rhose of his parishnokers with whpm thq parson
saldom comes into unpoeasant relations; they
elsewhere that in the good times they beyond reason in hospitalities. I believe of sort among the men; they are unfriendly, they are not wanting in but they are not companionable. It is my privilege to know some who notable exceptions to the all but universal rule. I have not far to from own to one whom I never pay a visit to without pleasure and profit, one who has for years been a great reader of Lord Tennyson’s has strong opinions on and the questions of the a resolute, and woman, farms hundred acres of without a bailiff, and, among other evidences of her good taste and intelligence, is a diligent reader the _Spectator_. are few far It one of the the country parson that, as soon out of the stratum to which the labourer he finds in a stratum where there is that has any of the interest of originality, or even passion. The people who live and move in that stratum are dismally like man’s ten commandments. My hardly believe me I them can even among smaller farmers, much to admire, much to respect, and something to but I do not wonder that many a country parson much of ’em.” These are having rather a life now, but they have learn most thrift frugality. a class they have practised these virtues, and as class they are far belong to the higher stratum; they bear their silently, perhaps too silently, and they tell that it’s no good grumbling--“that,” one of them said to me, “only things worse, makes _you_ worse!” Take them all in all, whom I have elsewhere _the little ones_ are usually those of his parishioners whom parson seldom into unpleasant relations;
 elsewhere that in the good timEs they
were LavisH beYonD aLl reAson In their hospitaLItieS. I believe there
never has Been aNyTHing OF tHe sorT among tHE sMALleR mEn; TheY aRE
nOt unfRieNdly, theY are not wanTinG iN cordiality, bUT tHey are not
cOmpAnionable.

It iS my PrivilEgE to KNow soMe wHo are NotablE ExceptIons to the AlL
But uniVErsal ruLE. i hAve nOt far to go from my owN DoOR to find
one whom i never PaY A vISIt tO wiThout pleasUrE and pROfit, one WHo
HAS For MAny years been a Great reader OF LoRd TennYsOn’s POems, haS
stroNg OPinIons on politIcs aNd the quesTions oF The day, a THoughtfUl,
resoLutE, anD truE-HeArTed WoMAn, wHO fArmS A huNdred acrEs Of Land
wIthoUT A BAiliFf, aNd, amOng otHer evidences oF heR gooD TasTe and
IntelLigeNcE, is a dIligenT readEr Of the _Spectator_. BUt suCh are few
aNd fAr BetWeEn.

It iS One of tHe tRiaLs of the Country PArsOn THAT, aS soon as he
passes out Of THE sTratum to Which tHE lAbOUrer beloNgS, he FindS
HImselF in a STrAtum wherE there IS nOtHing thaT hAs any oF tHe
iNteRest oF OrigInalitY, pictureSquenESs, or even passioN. the people
who lIVe AND mOVe in ThaT stratum are DismALly lIke tHE tIckET-of-leAve
maN’s TEn COmmandments. My neighbOuRs hardLy belIeve me when I teLl
them I can SEE, Even amonG the SMaLLer farmers, much To admIre, much to
rESpect, and SometHing to loVe; but I do nOT Wonder thAt mAny A coUntRY
PaRson “can’t make mUCH out Of ’Em.” These Men Are haviNg rAthEr a HarD
lIfe just noW, but they HaVe _NoT_ tO leArn thE Most elemEnTarY lEssOns
of THrift aNd fruGaliTy. as A ClaSs they hAVe ALWays PrAcTiseD thEsE
virtUes, aND as A class tHey are far LesS CompLaInIng than Those who
belonG tO the higher StRatUm; they BEAr their bUrdens silently, perhaps
toO SilentlY, anD they Tell You that it’S no Good grUmbLIng--“thaT,”
one of Them sAiD to ME, “Only mAKEs ThiNgS worse, ’causE IT maKes _yoU_
wOrse!” take theM all in all, they whom I HAve Elsewhere callEd _tHe
liTTLe OneS_ ArE UsuAlLY thOSE of his parishionErs with whoM tHE pArson
seldoM ComEs Into unpLeasant RelatIOns; they
 elsewhere that in the goo d times th ey
we relav is h be yond  all reason in thei r hospitalities. I bel ieveth e re
n e ve r has  been a n yt h i ngof  t heso r tamong  th e small er men; th eyar e
not unfrie n dl y, they ar e n ot wanting i n c ordial it y,b ut th eyare n ot
com p aniona ble.

Itis my pri v ilege t o kn ow s ome who are notab l ee xceptions to t he all 
b u tu n ive rsa l rule. Iha ve no t  far to go f r omm y own door to  find
one w h omI neve rpay a visi t towi t hou t pleasureandprofit, o ne who has for many ye ars be ena g reat re ad erof Lor d  T enn y son ’s poems ,ha s
str ongo p i n ions  on  pol itics  and the ques tio ns o f  th e day , a t houg ht ful,resolu te, a nd  true-hearted w oman , who far msahun dr ed ac r es oflan d
w ithouta baili f f,an d , am ong other evidence so f  h er goodtastea nd 
i n telligen ce , i s ad i ligen t re a de r of the  _Spec t at or _. Butsu ch are  f ewand  farb etwe en.

I t is one  of t h e trials of th e  country pars o nt h at ,  assoo n as he
pas seso ut o f th e  s tra t um to  whic ht he labourer belongs, h efindshimse lf in a strat um where t h e r e is not hing th a t has any of t he
in terest ofo riginali ty, p icturesq ueness, o r even pas sio n.The  pe o p le 
who live and m ovein  that s tra tum are  di sma lly  li ke  the tick et-of-le av ema n’ s t en co m mandment s.  My  n eig hbour s  hardl y bel ieve  m ew hen  I tell th e m  I c an  s ee,eve namong  the sma ller fa rmers, mu cht o ad mi re , muchto
respect, a nd  something  t o l ove; b u t  I do no t wonder that many a co u ntry
pa rso n “ca n’tmake much  ou t of ’ em. ”  These  men a re ha vi ngr a thera ha rdli fe just no w ,  bu t the yhave  _not_to learn the moste lem entary lesson s
o f th r i ft  an d  f r uga li t y.A s  a class they h ave always  p r ac tised thes e 
vi rt ues, an d as aclass they ar e far les s complai ni ng t h a n t hose who
b elong to  the high e r str a tu m; th eybear t he irburde ns sil e ntl y, pe rhapsto o sile ntly,  a nd theytell you that it’s no g ood gr umbli ng- -“that,”one ofthem said  tome, “onlymak esthing s w o rse,’cau s eitm akes_you _ 
worse!”T ak e t h e mall in all, t h eywhomI h a ve els ewhe re called _the
li t tle ones_ areusua l l y t hos e  ofhi s parishioners  wi th w hom thepa rson
seldom  comes i nt o  unpl easant  relat ions; t h e y
 elsewhere_that in_the good times they
were_lavish beyond_all_reason in_their_hospitalities. I believe_there
never has been_anything of the sort_among the smaller_men;_they are
not unfriendly, they are not wanting in cordiality, but they are not
companionable.

It is_my_privilege to_know_some_who are notable exceptions to_the all
but universal rule. I_have not_far to go from my own door to_find
one_whom I never_pay a visit to without pleasure and profit, one_who
has for many years been a_great reader of_Lord_Tennyson’s_poems, has
strong opinions on_politics and the questions of the_day, a thoughtful,
resolute, and true-hearted woman,_who farms a hundred acres of land
without_a bailiff, and, among other evidences_of her good taste and
intelligence,_is a_diligent reader of the _Spectator_._But such are_few
and far_between.

It is one_of the trials of the country_parson that, as_soon as he
passes out of the_stratum_to which the_labourer_belongs,_he finds
himself_in a stratum_where_there is_nothing_that has any of the
interest of_originality,_picturesqueness, or even passion. The people
who live_and move in that_stratum_are dismally like the_ticket-of-leave
man’s ten commandments. My neighbours_hardly believe me when I tell
them_I can_see, even_among the smaller farmers, much to admire, much to
respect, and something_to love; but I do not_wonder that many a_country
parson “can’t_make_much out of_’em.”_These men_are having rather a hard
life just now,_but they_have _not_ to learn the most_elementary lessons
of thrift and_frugality._As a class they have always_practised these
virtues, and as a class_they are far less complaining_than_those_who
belong to the higher stratum;_they bear their burdens silently, perhaps
too_silently, and they_tell you that it’s no good grumbling--“that,”
one_of_them said to me, “only makes_things_worse, ’cause it makes _you_
worse!” Take_them_all_in all, they whom I_have elsewhere called _the
little ones_ are_usually those of his parishioners with whom the parson
seldom_comes into unpleasant_relations; they