"One day I had a good story of my own to relate about a pinch of snuff. It was always the custom in those days for the clergyman after the marriage to salute the bride first, before any other person. Well, it was so that I had just married a very buxom, rosy young lady, and when it was over I proceeded to observe the usual ceremony. But I had just before taken an enormous finger-and-thumb-ful of snuff; so no sooner had the bride received my kiss--and I gave her a smart kiss for her good looks--than she began to sneeze. The bridegroom kissed her, of course, and he began also. Then the best man advanced to the privilege. Better he hadn't, for he began to sneeze awfully; and by-and-by the bridesmaids also, for they were all kissed in turn, till the whole party went sneezing down the aisle, and the last thing I heard outside the church door was _'tchu, 'tchu, 'tchu_, till the noise was drowned by the bells from the tower."
"But I suppose, Mr. Vivian, you did not remain long a curate; you must have received some of your several livings at an early period of life?"
"So I did, sir, sure enough. My text on such subjects was, '_Ask not, and you shall never receive_.' First of all, I had the vicarage of Percombe, up towards the moors. This came from a private friend. Next, the Duchy gave me the rectory of South Wingley. I had trouble enough to get it. I went up to London, and besieged the Council two or three times a day. People said they gave me the living to get rid of me from town. But it wasn't so. Next I had Trelegh from the second Mrs. Vivian's uncle. Yes, yes, preferment enough for one man. By-the-by, did you ever hear how near I was once to the lawn-sleeves and the bench? That was a close shave! I was staying in Bath, at the York House, and there I always dined in the coffee-room. Well, one day a gentleman came in and ordered dinner in the next box to mine--a sole and a chop. I observed a bottle of Madeira wine; and from his nicety and parlour ways, I judged him to be some big-wig, and very rich. I saw he looked about for a news _Gazette_, so I offered him mine, and exchanged a few words by way of getting known to him. He offered me a glass of wine, and of course I took it, and sat down to converse. We grew very friendly, and by-and-by it turned out that his name was Vivian, and spelt exactly like mine. It was growing late, and he took leave, but, to my surprise, invited me to dine with him the next day at Lansdowne Crescent. I was only too glad to go. It was a noble house, with a troop of servants and superb furniture, and, what was most to the purpose, a glorious feed. After dinner, at dessert-time, while we were talking over our wine, I saw, over the mantelpiece, a fine picture of Perceval, the Prime Minister at that time.[154] So I ventured to ask, 'Is Mr. Perceval, sir, a relative of your family?' 'No, sir, no,' he said. 'I have his picture because I like his politics, and respect him as a Minister and as a man. I have been introduced to him, however, and I can claim some personal acquaintance with him. 'Have you, my friend?' thought I. 'Then, take my word for it, I will make use of you as a stepping-stone in life.' So, when it was nearly time to wish him good night, I said, 'I have a favour to ask you, sir. I am going to town in a day or two, and I shall be deeply obliged if you will write a letter to Mr. Perceval, merely telling him that the bearer is a friend of yours, a clergyman in quest of some preferment, and that as he is the patron of so many good things in the Church, you will be much obliged to him if he will bestow something valuable on your friend.' He looked rather glum at this, and twirled his fingers a bit, and at length said, 'Why, no, Mr. Vivian, I can't go so far as that. Consider, I have known you only a few hours, and have never heard you officiate--although, no doubt, you are well qualified to hold preferment in the Church. But I'll tell you what I will do. I have a friend, the rector of the parish where Mr. Perceval lives, and I know he always attends his church. I will give you a letter to him, and he may suggest some opportunity of promoting your plan.' Of course I jumped at this, took my letter, and was off by the mail the very next day. The first man I called on was, of course, the clergyman. It was on a Saturday, and by good luck he had been taken ill. I was shown in where he lay on a sofa, looking quite ghastly. 'Have you got a sermon with you, Mr. Vivian?' said he; 'anything will do.' I always took with me, wherever I went, some half-dozen, and I said so. 'Because, as you see, I cannot go to church to-morrow, and a friend who was to have taken my duty has disappointed me.
