it was very considerate of you; I am much obliged to you.”  Paley was too careful of petty expenses, as is frequently the case with those who have had but narrow incomes in early life.  He kept a sufficiently handsome establishment as subdean, but he was stingy.  A plentiful fall of snow took place during an evening party at the precentors’s; two of Mr. Subdean’s daughters were there; he showed great anxiety on account of the necessity that seemed to have arisen of sending them home in a sedan-chair; taking the advice of several of the company, whether such necessity really and inevitably existed, he said to me, “It is only next door.”  “The houses touch,” said I, “but it is a long round to your door; the length of both houses and then through the garden in front of your house.”  He consulted the precentor, who, to put the matter in a right point of view, cried out, “Let the girls have a chair; it is only three-pence a piece.”

He preached a sermon at Lincoln for the benefit of a charity school.  In the course of this sermon he related, in familiar but sufficiently dignified language, a story of a man who, giving evidence on a trial respecting some prescriptive right claimed by the trustees of the charity, was browbeaten by the questioning counsel:—­“I suppose the fact to which you swear happened when you were a charity boy, and used to go to school there?” The witness calmly replied, “I was a charity boy; and all the good that has befallen me in life has arisen from the education I received at that school.”  Paley drew hence an argument in favour of the institution for which he pleaded.  The whole discourse pleased his auditors, and a deputation waited on him to request he would print it.  “Gentlemen, I thank you for the compliment; but I must give the same answer that I have given on other like occasions; and that answer is—­The tap is out.”  “The Archbishop of York,” said he, speaking of a late primate, “preached one day at Carlisle; I was present, and felt muzzy and half asleep; when on a sudden I was roused, and began to prick up my ears; and what should I hear but a whole page of one of my own books quoted word for word; and this without the least acknowledgment, though it was a white bear; a passage that is often quoted and well known.”  “Now,” said Dr. Milner, Dean of Carlisle, who related the anecdote, “guess what inference Paley drew from this plagiarism.  No; if that court were full of people, not one of them would be able to guess:  it was this—­I suppose the archbishop’s wife makes his grace’s sermons for him.”

* * * * *

The city has always been the province for satire; and the wits of King Charles’s time jested upon nothing else during his whole reign.—­Addison.

* * * * *

THE GATHERER.

    A snapper up of unconsidered trifles. 
    SHAKSPEARE.