Note 13 — ILLUSTRATED WITH Numerous Original Designs BY ROBERT CRUIKSHANK.

The story here alluded to is told in a pamphlet, entitled, 'A modest Apology for Parson Alberoni, Governor to King Philip, a Minor, and universal Curate of the whole Spanish Monarchy, &c. by Thomas Gordon, Esq. 1719,' and is as follows: 'There is, in a certain diocese in this nation, a living worth about six hundred pounds a-year. This, and two or three more preferments, maintain the doctor in becoming ease and corpulency. He keeps a chariot in town, and a journeyman in the country; his curate and his coach-horses are his equal drudges, saving that the four-legged cattle are better fed, and have sleeker cassocks, than his spiritual dray-horse. The doctor goes down once a-year, to shear his flock and fill his pockets, or, in other words, to receive the wages of his embassy; and then, sometimes in an afternoon, if his belly do not happen to be too full, he vouchsafes to mount the pulpit, and to instruct his people in the greatness of his character and dullness. This composes the whole parish to rest; but the doctor one day denouncing himself the Lord's Ambassador with greater fire and loudness than could have been reasonably expected from him, it roused a clown of the congregation, who waked his next neighbour with, 'Dost hear, Tom, dost hear?'—'Ay,' says Tom, yawning, 'what does he say?'—'Say?' answered the other, 'he says a plaguy lie, to be sure; he says as how he is my Lord's Humbassandor, but I think he is more rather the Lord's Receiver-General, for he never comes but to take money.' Six hundred pounds a-year is, modestly speaking, a competent fee for lulling the largest congregation in England asleep once in a twelvemonth. Such tithes are the price of napping; and such mighty odds are there between a curtain lecture and a cushion lecture.' See the collection of Tracts by Gordon and Trenchard, vol. i. p. 130.