He got out of bed at half-past twelve o'clock one winter's night, to half-baptise a washerwoman's child in a slop-basin, and the gratitude of the parishioners knew no bounds--the very churchwardens grew generous, and insisted on the parish defraying the expense of the watch-box on wheels, which the new curate had ordered for himself, to perform the funeral service in, in wet weather.

He sent three pints of gruel and a quarter of a pound of tea to a poor woman who had been brought to bed of four small children, all at once--the parish were charmed.

He got up a subscription for her--the woman's fortune was made.

He spoke for one hour and twenty-five minutes, at an anti-slavery meeting at the Goat and Boots--the enthusiasm was at its height.

A proposal was set on foot for presenting the curate with a piece of plate, as a mark of esteem for his valuable services rendered to the parish.