ever surpassed Mr. Donne: it was that of begging.
By his own unassisted efforts he begged all the money for all his
erections. In this matter he had a grasp of plan, a scope of action
quite unique. He begged of high and low--of the shoeless cottage brat
and the coroneted duke. He sent out begging-letters far and wide--to old
Queen Charlotte, to the princesses her daughters, to her sons the royal
dukes, to the Prince Regent, to Lord Castlereagh, to every member of the
ministry then in office; and, what is more remarkable, he screwed
something out of every one of these personages. It is on record that he
got five pounds from the close-fisted old lady Queen Charlotte, and two
guineas from the royal profligate her eldest son. When Mr. Donne set out
on begging expeditions, he armed himself in a complete suit of brazen
mail. That you had given a hundred pounds yesterday was with him no
reason why you should not give two hundred to-day. He would tell you so
to your face, and, ten to one, get the money out of you. People gave to
get rid of him. After all, he did some good with the cash. He was
useful in his day and generation.

Perhaps I ought to remark that on the premature and sudden vanishing of
Mr. Malone from the stage of Briarfield parish (you cannot know how it
happened, reader; your curiosity must be robbed to pay your elegant love
of the pretty and pleasing), there came as his successor another Irish
curate, Mr. Macarthey. I am happy to be able to inform you, _with
truth_, that this gentleman did as much credit to his country as Malone
had done it discredit. He proved himself as decent, decorous, and
conscientious as Peter was rampant, boisterous, and---- This last
epithet I choose to suppress, because it would let the cat out of the
bag. He laboured faithfully in the parish. The schools, both Sunday and
day schools, flourished under his sway like green bay trees. Being
human, of course he had his faults. These, however, were proper,
steady-going, clerical faults--what many would call virtues. The
circumstance of finding himself invited to tea with a Dissenter would
unhinge him for a week. The spectacle of a Quaker wearing his hat in the
church, the thought of an unbaptized fellow-creature being interred with
Christian rites--these things could make strange havoc in Mr.
Macarthey's physical and mental economy. Otherwise he was sane and
rational, diligent and charitable.

I doubt not a justice-loving public will have r