NOTE. (continued 2)

DA VINCI A GREAT ANATOMIST.

Leonardo Da Vinci, to his talents as a painter, added that of being the best anatomist and physiologist of his time, and was the first person who introduced the practice of making anatomical drawings. Vassari, in his Lives of the Painters, says that Leonardo made a book of studies, drawn with red chalk, and touched with a pen with great diligence, of such subjects as Marc Antonio de la Torre, an excellent philosopher of that day, had dissected. "And concerning those from part to part, he wrote remarks in letters of an ugly form, which are written by the left hand backwards, and not to be understood but by those who knew the method of reading them; for they are not to be read without a looking-glass." Those very drawings and writings alluded to by Vassari, were happily found to be preserved in the royal collection of original drawings, where Dr. Hunter was permitted to examine them. The Doctor, in noticing them, says: "I expected to see little more than such designs in anatomy as might be useful to the painter in his own profession; but I saw, and, indeed, with astonishment, that Leonardo had been a general and a deep student. When I consider what pains he has taken upon every part of the body, the superiority of his universal genius, his particular excellence in mechanics and hydraulics, and the attention with which such a man would examine and see objects which he was to draw, I am fully persuaded that Leonardo was the best anatomist at that time in the world."

EXTRAVAGANCES OF THE HERRNHUTERS.

In a letter to Count Zinzendorf—the founder of the community of Moravian Brethren at Herrnhut, in Upper Lusatia—who visited England about 1745, Whitfield thus describes and rebukes some of the extravagant flummeries then practised by the Moravians: "Pray, my Lord, what instances have we of the first Christians walking round the graves of their deceased friends on Easter day, attended with hautboys, trumpets, French horns, violins, and other kinds of musical instruments? Or where have we the least mention made of pictures of particular persons being brought into the Christian assemblies, and of candles being placed behind them in order to give a transparent view of the figures? Where was it ever known that the picture of the Apostle Paul, representing him handing a gentleman and lady up to the side of Jesus Christ, was ever introduced into the primitive love-feasts?... Again, my Lord, I beg leave to inquire whether we hear anything in Scripture of eldresses or deaconesses of the apostolical churches seating themselves before a table covered with artificial flowers, and against that a little altar surrounded with wax tapers, on which stood a cross, composed either of mock or real diamonds, or other glittering stones? And yet your Lordship must be sensible this was done in Fetter Lane Chapel, for Mrs. Hannah Nitschman, the present general eldress of your congregation; with this addition, that all the sisters were seated, clothed in white, and with German caps; the organ also illuminated with three pyramids of wax tapers, each of which was tied with a red ribbon; and over the head of the general eldress was placed her own picture, and over that (horresco referens) the picture of the Son of God. A goodly sight this, my Lord, for a company of English Protestants to behold!... A like scene to this was exhibited by the single brethren in a room of their house at Hatton Garden. The floor was covered with sand and moss, and in the middle of it was paved a star of different-coloured pebbles; upon that was placed a gilded dove, which spouted water out of its mouth into a vessel prepared for its reception, which was curiously decked with artificial leaves and flags; the room was hung with moss and shell; the Count, his son, and son-in-law, in honour of whom all this was done, with Mrs. Hannah Nitschman, and Mr. Peter Boehlen, and some other labourers, were also present. These were seated under an alcove, supported by columns made of pasteboard, and over their heads was painted an oval in imitation of marble, containing cyphers of Count Zinzendorf's family. Upon a side-table was a little altar covered with shells, and on each side of the altar was a bloody heart, out of, or near which, proceeded flames. The room was illuminated with wax tapers, and musicians played in an adjoining apartment, while the company performed their devotions, and regaled themselves with sweetmeats, coffee, tea, and wine." Mr. Whitfield also mentions a "singular expedient" made use of to raise the drooping spirits of one Mr. Bell, who had been induced to join the Brethren. On his birthday, he was sent for by Mr. Peter Boehlen, one of the bishops, and "was introduced into a hall, where was placed an artificial mountain, which, upon singing a particular verse, was made to fall down, and then behind it was discovered an illumination, representing Jesus Christ and Mr. Bell sitting very near, or embracing each other; and out of the clouds was also represented plenty of money falling round Mr. Bell and the Saviour." Towards the close of his career, Count Zinzendorf applied himself, and not without success, to undo a good deal of the extravagant and unseemly work of former years, both in his devotional hymns and forms.

AN AWKWARD ASSOCIATION.

In his Jest-book, Mr. Lemon tells the following capital story of awkward association:—"In a cause tried in the Court of Queen's Bench, the plaintiff being a widow, and the defendants two medical men who had treated her for delirium tremens, and put her under restraint as a lunatic, witnesses were called on the part of the plaintiff to prove that she was not addicted to drinking. The last witness called by Mr. Montagu Chambers, the leading counsel, on the part of the plaintiff, was Dr. Tunstal, who closed his evidence by describing a case of delirium tremens treated by him, in which the patient recovered in a single night. 'It was,' said the witness, 'a case of gradual drinking, sipping all day, from morning till night.' These words were scarcely uttered, than Mr. Chambers, turning to the Bench, said, 'My Lord, that is my case.'"

TURNING-POINT IN PALEY'S CAREER.

When Paley first went to Cambridge, he fell into a society of young men far richer than himself, to whom his talents and conviviality made him an acceptable companion, and he was in a fair way for ruin. One morning one of these comrades came into his bedroom before he was up, and he, as usual, thought it was to propose some plan of pleasure for the day. His friend, however, said, "Paley, I have not slept a wink this night for thinking of you. I am, as you know, heir to such and such a fortune, and whether I ever look in a book at Cambridge does not signify a farthing. But this is not the case with you. You have only your abilities to look to; and no man has better, if you do but make the proper use of them. But if you go on in this way, you are ruined; and from this time forward I am determined not to associate with you, for your own sake. You know I like your company, and it is a great sacrifice to give it up; but give it up I will, as a matter of conscience." Paley lay in bed the whole day, ruminating upon this. In the evening he rose and took his tea, ordered his bed-maker to make his fire overnight, and call him at five in the morning; and from that day forward he rose always at that hour. He went out first wrangler, and became the fortunate man he was. This story was told to Southey in 1808, by Mr. Brome, who had it from an intimate friend of Paley.

THE DANGERS OF TOO GOOD COMPANY.

George I. liked to temper the cares of royalty with the pleasures of private life, and commonly invited six or eight friends to pass the evening with him. His Majesty seeing Dr. Lockier one day at court, desired the Duchess of Ancaster, who was almost always of the party, to ask the Doctor to come that evening. When the company met in the evening, Dr. Lockier was not there; and the King inquired of the Duchess if she had invited him. "Yes," she said; "but the Doctor presents his humble duty to your Majesty, and hopes your Majesty will have the goodness to excuse him at present; he is soliciting some preferment from your Majesty's Ministers, and fears it may be some obstacle to him, if it should be known that he had the honour of keeping such good company." The King laughed very heartily, and said he believed he was in the right. Not many weeks after, Dr. Lockier kissed the King's hand as Dean of Peterborough; and as he was rising from kneeling, the King inclined forwards, and with great good-humour whispered in his ear, "Well, now, Doctor, you will not be afraid to come in an evening; I would have you come this evening;" an invitation which was very readily accepted.

ANECDOTES OF ABERNETHY.

John Abernethy, the pupil and friend of John Hunter, was remarkable for eccentricity and brusquerie in his dealings with patients. But there are many instances to show that his roughness was only external, and that a very soft and gentle heart beat in his bosom. He was sometimes successfully combated with his own weapons. A lady on one occasion entered his consulting-room, and showed him an injured finger, without saying a word. In silence Abernethy dressed the wound; silently the lady put the usual fee on the table, and retired. In a few days she came again, and offered the finger for inspection. "Better?" asked the surgeon. "Better," answered the lady, speaking for the first time. Not another word followed during the interview. Three or four visits were made, in the last of which the patient held out her finger perfectly healed. "Well?" was Abernethy's inquiry. "Well," was the lady's answer. "Upon my soul, madam," exclaimed the delighted surgeon, "you are the most rational woman I ever met with!" "I had heard of your rudeness before I came, Sir," another and less fortunate lady said, taking his prescription; "but I was not prepared for such treatment. What am I to do with this?" "Anything you like," the surgeon roughly answered. "Put it on the fire if you please." Taking him at his word, the lady put her fee on the table, and the prescription on the fire, and, making a bow, left the room. Abernethy followed her, apologizing, and begging her to take back the fee or let him write another prescription; but the lady would not relent. When the bubble schemes were flourishing in 1825, Mr. Abernethy met some friends who had risked large sums of money in one of those speculations; they informed him that they were going to partake of a most sumptuous dinner, the expenses of which would be defrayed by the company. "If I am not very much deceived," replied he, "you will have nothing but bubble and squeak in a short time."

BLOMFIELD'S REBUKE TO NON-RESIDENT RECTORS.

Dr. Blomfield, Bishop of London, had occasion to call the attention of the Essex incumbents to the necessity of residing in their parishes; and he reminded them that curates were, after all, of the same flesh and blood as rectors, and that the residence which was possible for the one, could not be quite impossible for the other. "Besides," added he, "there are two well-known preservatives against ague: the one is, a good deal of care and a little port wine; the other, a little care and a good deal of port wine. I prefer the former; but if any of the clergy prefer the latter, it is at all events a remedy which incumbents can afford better than curates."

DEVOTION OF A CATHOLIC PRIEST.

In a parish close to Dublin, it is on record that a Catholic priest was called on to administer the solemn rites of his religion to a family in the last stage of typhus fever. The family, six or seven in number, were found lying in a wretched hovel, on a little straw scattered on the damp earthen floor. The agonies of death were fast coming upon them. The confession of each one of them had to be heard. Lest any should overhear the confession of another, the priest stretched himself on the straw, while the miserable sufferer breathed his or her confession into his ear. Thus, inhaling the poison of their respiration, and separating them from each other successively, at the risk of his own life, he completed his sacred functions.

PULPIT JOKES OF DANIEL BURGESS.

Daniel Burgess, the noted Nonconformist minister, was by no means of Puritan strictness, for he was the most facetious person of his day, and carried his wit so far as to retail it from the pulpit with more levity than decency. Speaking of Job's "robe of righteousness," he once said, "If any of you would have a suit for a twelvemonth, let him repair to Monmouth Street; if for his lifetime, let him apply to the Court of Chancery; but if for all eternity, let him put on the robe of righteousness." The sermons of Burgess were adapted to the prejudices as well as the opinions of his hearers—wit and Whiggism went hand in hand with Scripture. He was strongly attached to the House of Brunswick, and would not uphold the Pretender's cause from the pulpit. He once preached a sermon, about that time, on the reason why the Jews were called Jacobites, in which he said, "God ever hated Jacobites, and therefore Jacob's sons were not so called, but Israelites!"

PHYSICIANS AND THEIR FEES.

Perhaps regarding nothing connected with the science and practice of medicine, or the lives of its professors, are there more stories told, more curious facts on record, more interesting exhibitions of character and touching displays of generosity to relate, than about the giving and taking—or not taking—of fees. In stringing together some memoranda and anecdotes on this head, it needs only to be said that they are but a few out of a crowd. At the outset, it may be explained that from very early times the fee of the physician (like that of the advocate or the university professor) was regarded in the light of a voluntary recognition or reward for services rendered out of pure love of science or humanity. Dr. Doran alleges, indeed, that "there is a religious reason why fees are supposed not to be taken by physicians. Amongst the Christian martyrs are reckoned the two eastern brothers, Damian and Cosmas. They practised as physicians in Cilicia, and they were the first mortal practitioners who refused to take recompense for their work. Hence they were called Anargyri, or 'without money.' All physicians are pleasantly supposed to follow this example. They never take fees, like Damian and Cosmas; but they meekly receive what they know will be given out of Christian humility, and with a certain or uncertain reluctance, which is the nearest approach that can be made in these times to the two brothers who were in partnership at Egea in Cilicia." It has very naturally, however, been objected that physicians act from no such lofty motives, but merely because they prefer that the gratitude or the fears of the patient should be the measure of their reward. And yet, as Mr. Wadd forcibly remarks, "it is a fact, not less singular than true, that the advancement of surgical science is a benefit conferred on society at the expense of the scientific practitioner, since in proportion as the mode of cure is tuto et celeriter, safe and speedy, remuneration is diminished. Perhaps in no instance is this better exemplified than in the operation of the hydrocele, introduced by my late friend and master, Sir James Earle. Compare the simplicity, safety, and celerity of this, with the bustle and bloody brutality of the old system; the business of six weeks reduced to so many days! But mark the consequence, quâ honorarium: does the patient increase the fee for the pain and misery he is spared? Not a bit of it. Here is little or no work done; no trouble to the doctor; no pain to the patient; therefore, nothing to pay for.... Selden, who understood these failings in mankind vastly well, gives them a sly hit in his Table Talk:—'If a man had a sore leg, and he should go to an honest, judicious chirurgeon, and he should only bid him keep it warm, and anoint it with such an oil (an oil well known) that would do the cure, haply he would not much regard him, because he knows the medicine beforehand, an ordinary medicine. But if he should go to a surgeon that should tell him, your leg will gangrene within three days and it must be cut off, and you will die unless you do something that I could tell you, what listening there would be to this man! Oh, for the Lord's sake, tell me what this is, I will give you any content for your pains!'" Not only has this loss of reward through the devising of new appliances for preventing human suffering, not made medical men, as a rule, one whit less anxious to devise them, or adopt them when devised; but it is in the experience of all, that in many cases physicians can render services gratuitously, which they would never have had the opportunity of rendering if it was not understood, both by themselves and the suffering, that they gave their skill cheerfully for God's sake as for gold's sake, to those who were unable to appeal to the latter power.

Ancient Fees of Magnitude.—Seleucus—the one of Alexander's generals to whom the kingdom of Syria fell at the break-up of the empire of Macedonian conquest—gave to Erasistratus 60,000 crowns "for discovering the disorder of his son Antiochus." Alcon, whose dexterity is celebrated in Martial's Epigrams, was repaid by the public, in the course of a few years' practice, the sum of 10,000,000 sesterces (£80,000) which he had lost by a law-suit. Four Roman physicians, Aruntius, Calpetanus, Rubrius, and Albutius, for their attendance on Augustus and his two immediate successors, enjoyed each an annual salary of 250,000 sesterces, equal to £2000 sterling.

Early English Fees.—In 1345, Edward III. granted to his apothecary, Coursus de Gungeland, a pension of sixpence a-day; and "Ricardus Wye, chirurgicus," had twelve pence per day, and eight marks per year, for his services. Under the same king, "Willielmus Holme, chirurgicus Regis," is rewarded with the permission, during his lifetime, "to hunt, take, and carry off wild animals of all kinds, in any of the royal forests, chases, parks, and warrens." In the Courts of the kings of Wales, the physician or surgeon was the twelfth person in rank, and his fees seem to have been fixed by law. For a flesh wound, not of a dangerous character, he got nothing but such of the wounded man's garments as the blood had stained; but for any of the three classes of dangerous wounds, he had in addition 180 pence, and his maintenance so long as his services might be in requisition.

Fees in the reign of Henry VIII. and Elizabeth.—In the record of expenses of the Earl of Cumberland, it is stated that he paid to a physician of Cambridge £1; but this fee was evidently, as shown by other entries, an exceptionally liberal one, even perhaps for a noble to pay. In the 18th year of Henry VIII., as is mentioned in Burn's History of Westmoreland, Sir Walter Strickland made a bargain with a physician to cure him of an asthma for £20. Stow, in the same reign, complimenting British physicians on their skill and learning, mentions "as the great grievance that the inferior people are undone by the exorbitance of their fees." Half-a-crown, he avers, is in Holland looked on as a large fee; whereas in England "a physician scorns to touch any metal but gold; and our surgeons are still more unreasonable." Queen Elizabeth's physician in ordinary received £100 per annum, besides his sustenance, wine, wax, and other necessaries or perquisites. Her apothecary, Hugo Morgan, for one quarter's bill had £83, 7s. 8d.; but this was not all for medicines, as such entries as this will show:—eleven shillings for a confection shaped like a manus Christi, with bezoar stone and unicorn's horn; sixteenpence for a royal sweetmeat with incised rhubarb; six shillings for "a conserve of barberries, with preserved damascene plums, and other things for Mr. Ralegh;" two shillings and sixpence for sweet scent to be used at the christening of Sir Richard Knightley's son; and so on.

Fees after the Revolution.—At the close of the sixteenth and opening of the seventeenth century, the fee of the physician had tended towards fixity, as regards the minimum at least, which was ten shillings. This appears from several incidental contemporary statements, as in the satirical dialogue of "Physick lies a-bleeding; or the Apothecary turned Doctor" (published in 1697, during the war of the "Dispensary"), in which one of the characters, called on to pay eighteen shillings for medicine for his wife and a crown by way of gratuity to the apothecary, says: "I wish you had called a doctor; perhaps he would have advised her to have forbore taking anything, at least as yet, so I had saved 13s. in my pocket." In 1700, as appears from the Levamen Infirmi, the existence of minimum and maximum fees appears to have been quite recognised:—"To a graduate in physick, his due is about ten shillings, though he commonly expects or demands twenty. Those that are only licensed physicians, their due is no more than six shillings and eightpence, though they commonly demand ten shillings. A surgeon's fee is twelve-pence a mile, be his journey far or near; ten groats to set a bone broke, or out of joint; and for letting blood, one shilling; the cutting off or amputation of any limb is five pounds, but there is no settled price for the cure."

Sir Theodore Mayerne.—This eminent physician, who was a native of Geneva, and attended James I. and the two Charleses, once very neatly and deservedly rebuked a mean and ostentatious friend, who, after consulting him, laid on the table two broad pieces of gold (of the value of 36s. each). Sir Theodore quietly pocketed the fee; and, on his friend expressing or showing himself hurt at thus being taken at his money, said to him: "I made my will this morning; and if it should appear that I had refused a fee, I might be deemed non compos." Mr. Wadd caps this anecdote with another about Dr. Meyer Schomberg, who was much in vogue about the middle of last century. Mr. Martin, the surgeon, used now and then to visit him; and was once shown in when a patient was with him. After the patient was gone, Martin noticed two guineas lying on the table, and asked the doctor how it came that he left his money about in that way? Said Dr. Schomberg: "I always have a couple of guineas before me, as an example, or broad hint, what they (the patients who consulted him) ought to give."

Large Royal Fees in Later Times.—Henry Atkins was sent for to Scotland by James the First (of England), to attend to the Prince Charles—afterwards Charles I., but then in his infancy—who lay dangerously sick. For this journey and duty the King gave Atkins the splendid fee of £6000, which he invested in the purchase of the manor of Clapham. In 1685 a very handsome fee was ordered to be paid—but it was never paid—to Dr. King, for a brave breach of Court etiquette that saved the life of Charles II. for a time. Evelyn thus relates the incident, under date 4th February 1685:—"I went to London, hearing his Majesty had been, the Monday before (2 Feb.), surprised in his bed-chamber with an apoplectic fit; so that if, by God's providence, Dr. King (that excellent chirurgeon as well as physician) had not been actually present, to let him blood (having his lancet in his pocket), his Majesty had certainly died that moment, which might have been of direful consequence, there being nobody else present with the king save this doctor and one more, as I am assured. It was a mark of the extraordinary dexterity, resolution, and presence of mind in the Dr. to let him blood in the very paroxysm, without staying the coming of other physicians; which regularly should have been done, and for want of which he must have a regular pardon, as they tell me." The Privy Council ordered £1000 to be given to Dr. King; but he never obtained the money. The physicians who attended Queen Caroline in 1737 had 500 guineas, and the surgeons 300 guineas, apiece. Dr. Willis, for his success in dealing with the malady of George III., received £1500 a-year for twenty years, and £650 was settled on his son for life; the subordinate physicians had thirty guineas for each visit to Windsor, and ten for each visit to Kew. The Empress Catherine of Russia made Dr. Dimsdale—a Hertfordshire physician—who, in 1768, travelled to St. Petersburg to inoculate her and her son, a Baron of the Empire; and presented him with a fee of £12,000, and a life pension of £500. This sum of £12,000 is about the largest ever paid, in ancient times or modern, to one physician for one operation; although there are living surgeons who from private individuals have received fees that dwarf this imperial largess into comparative insignificance. Perhaps even more remarkable, however, than Catherine's liberal payment for good work, was the Emperor Joseph of Austria's reward for bad news. On his deathbed his Majesty asked Quarin his opinion of his case, and was frankly assured, in reply, that he could not expect to live other forty-eight hours. For this uncourtly but really kind affirmation of the truth, the Emperor created Quarin a Baron, and conferred on him an income of £2000. Louis XIV. gave his physician and surgeon 75,000 crowns each, after the successful performance of a painful, and at that time novel, operation. Beside this, the fees paid by Napoleon I. to the Faculty who attended Marie Louise in March 1811, when the Emperor's son was born, are trifling. Dubois, Corvisart, Bourdier, and Ivan, had amongst them a remuneration of £4000, £2000 being the portion assigned to Dubois.

Fee for a Political Consultation.—At the outbreak of the American war, Grenville was desirous to ascertain what was the state of feeling that prevailed among the Quaker colonists in America; and he could hit, as he thought, on no more effectual means of doing this, than by a conversation with Dr. Fothergill, who was a Quaker, and enjoyed the hearty confidence of his brethren of that sect. Fothergill was accordingly summoned to prescribe for the statesman—who, in reality, wanted to feel, through him, the pulse of transatlantic Quakerism; and the visit, of course, was made to take the turn of a vivacious controversy on American politics. At the end, Grenville put five guineas into the doctor's hand, and said to him, "Really, I feel so much better, that I don't think it is necessary for you to prescribe." With a shrewd smile, Fothergill, keeping a good hold of the money, said, "Well, at this rate, friend, I can spare thee an hour now and then."

Generous Refusal of Fees.—There are many anecdotes of refusal of physicians to take fees from persons whom the payment of them would have distressed; but they are all so nobly alike, that we need not quote any here. The benevolent and eccentric Dr. Smith, when established in a practice equal to that of any physician in London, did what perhaps few physicians in great practice would have done. He set apart two days for the poor in each week. From those who were really poor, he never took a fee; and from those who were of the middling ranks in life, he never would take above half a guinea! Yet so great was the resort to him, that he has in one day received fifty guineas, at the rate of half a guinea only from each patient.

Sticklers for Fees.—Sir Richard Jebb was once paid three guineas by a nobleman from whom he had a right to expect five. Sir Richard dropped the coins on the carpet, when a servant picked them up and restored them. Sir Richard continued his search. "Are all the guineas found?" asked his Lordship, looking round. "There must be two still on the floor," was Jebb's answer; "for I have only three." The hint was taken, and the right sum put down. An eminent Bristol doctor coming into his patient's bedroom immediately after death, found the right hand of the deceased tightly clenched. Opening the fingers, he discovered within them a guinea. "Ah! that was for me, clearly," said the doctor, putting the piece into his pocket. A physician, receiving two guineas when he expected three, from an old lady who used to give him the latter fee, had recourse to one part of Sir Richard Jebb's artifice, and, assuming that the third guinea had been dropt through his carelessness on the floor, looked about for it. "Nay, nay," said the lady, "you are not in fault. It is I who dropt it."

Fees collectively Irresistible.—Radcliffe attended a friend for a twelvemonth gratuitously. On his last visit his friend said, "Doctor, here is a purse in which I have put every day's fee; and your goodness must not get the better of my gratitude. Take your money." Radcliffe steeled himself to persevere in benevolence, just touched the purse to reject it, heard the chink of the gold, and put it into his pocket, saying "Singly, Sir, I could have refused them for a twelvemonth; but, all together, they are irresistible."

PALEY'S ECONOMY OF CONSCIENCE.

The great controversy on the propriety of requiring a subscription to articles of faith, as practised by the Church of England, excited in 1772 a very strong sensation amongst the members of the two universities. Paley, when pressed to sign the clerical petition which was presented to the House of Commons for relief, excused himself, saying, "He could not afford to keep a conscience."

DIFFIDENCE IN THE PULPIT.

Izaak Walton relates about Bishop Sanderson, that once "his dear and most intimate friend, the learned Dr. Hammond, came to enjoy a quiet rest and conversation with him for some days at Boothby Pannel, and did so, and having formerly persuaded him to trust his excellent memory, and not read, but try to speak a sermon as he had writ it; Dr. Sanderson became so compliant as to promise that he would. And to that end they two went early the Sunday following to a neighbour minister, and requested to exchange a sermon; and they did so. And at Dr. Sanderson's going into the pulpit, he gave his sermon (which was a very short one) into the hands of Dr. Hammond, intending to preach it as it was writ; but before he had preached a third part, Dr. Hammond (looking on his sermon as written) observed him to be out, and so lost as to the matter, especially the method, that he also became afraid for him; for it was discernible to many of that plain auditory. But when he had ended this short sermon, as they two walked homeward, Dr. Sanderson said with much earnestness, 'Good Doctor, give me my sermon, and know that neither you, nor any man living, shall ever persuade me to preach again without my books.' To which the reply was, 'Good Doctor, be not angry; for if ever I persuade you to preach again without book, I will give you leave to burn all the books that I am master of.'" Elsewhere Walton says:—"Though they were much esteemed by them that procured and were fit to judge them, yet (Dr. Sanderson's sermons) were the less valued because he read them, which he was forced to do; for though he had an extraordinary memory (even the art of it), yet he was punished with such an innate, invincible fear and bashfulness, that his memory was wholly useless as to the repetition of his sermons, so as he had writ them; which gave occasion to say, when some of them were first printed and exposed to censure (which was in the year 1632), that the best sermons that ever were read were never preached." Aubrey says, that when he was a freshman at college, and heard Dr. Sanderson read his first lecture, he was out in the Lord's Prayer.

CHRISTIAN NAMES AMONG THE PURITANS.

In his Church History, Collins says:—"Under the article of Baptism, the Book of Discipline runs thus: 'Let persuasions be used that such names that do savour either of Paganism or Popery be not given to children at their baptism, but principally those whereof there are examples in the Scriptures.' The Puritans were strict in keeping close to this rule, as may be collected from the odd names they gave their children; such as, 'The Lord is Near,' 'More Trial,' 'Reformation,' 'Discipline,' 'Joy Again,' 'Sufficient from Above,' 'Free-Gifts,' 'More Fruit,' 'Dust,' etc. And here Snape was remarkably scrupulous; for this minister refused to baptize one Christopher Hodgkinson's child, because he would have it christened Richard. Snape acquainted Hodgkinson with his opinion beforehand. He told him he must change the name, and look out for one in the Scripture; but the father, not thinking this fancy would be so strongly insisted on, brought his son to church. Snape proceeded in the solemnity till he came to naming the child; but not being able to prevail for any other name than Richard, refused to administer the sacrament, and thus the child was carried away, and afterwards baptized by a conforming clergyman."

"WHAT IS AN ARCHDEACON?"

Lord Althorp, when Chancellor of the Exchequer, having to propose to the House of Commons a vote of £400 a year for the salary of the Archdeacon of Bengal, was puzzled by a question from Mr. Hume, "What are the duties of an archdeacon?" So he sent one of the subordinate occupants of the Treasury Bench to the other House to obtain an answer to the question from one of the bishops. To Dr. Blomfield accordingly the messenger went, and repeated the question, "What is an archdeacon?" "An archdeacon," replied the bishop, in his quick way, "an archdeacon is an ecclesiastical officer, who performs archidiaconal functions;" and with this reply Lord Althorp and the House were perfectly satisfied.

"TAPPING" A TOPER.

A man who had never drunk water enough to warrant the disease, was reduced to such a state by dropsy, that the physicians decided that tapping was necessary; and the poor patient was invited to submit to the operation, which he seemed inclined to do, in spite of the entreaties of his son. "Oh! father, father, do not let them tap you," screamed the boy, in an agony of tears; "do anything, but do not let them tap you!" "Why, my dear?" inquired the afflicted parent. "It will do me good, and I shall live long in health to make you happy." "No, father, no, you will not: there never was anything tapped in our house that lasted longer than a week!"

THE CAPACITY OF AN ABBE.

When the diminutive Abbé de Voisenon was ordered by his physician to drink a quart of ptisan per hour, he was horrified. On his next visit the doctor asked, "What effect has the ptisan produced?" "Not any," answered the little Abbé. "Have you taken it all?" "I could not take more than half of it." The physician was angry that his directions had not been carried out, and frankly said so. "Ah! my friend," pleaded the Abbé, "how could you desire me to swallow a quart an hour? I hold but a pint!"

BENEFIT OF CLERGY.

In Burnet's History of the Reformation, we find it stated that "a law of Henry VII. for burning in the hand clerks convicted of felony, did not prove a sufficient restraint. And when, in the fourth year of the following reign, it was enacted that all murderers and robbers should be denied the benefit of their clergy, two provisos were added to make the bill pass through the House of Lords, the one for excepting all such as were within the holy orders of bishop, priest, or deacon, and the other, that the Act should only be in force till the next Parliament. Pursuant to this Act many murderers and felons were denied their clergy, and the law passed on them to the great satisfaction of the nation; but this gave great offence to the clergy, and the Abbot of Winchelcont said, in a sermon at Paul's Cross, that the Act was contrary to the law of God, and to the liberties of the holy Church, and that all who assented to it had by so doing incurred the censures of the Church."

DEAN SWIFT'S CONTRIBUTORY DINNER.

Dean Swift once invited to dinner several of the first noblemen and gentlemen in Dublin. A servant announced the dinner, and the Dean led the way to the dining-room. To each chair was a servant, a bottle of wine, a roll, and an inverted plate. On taking his seat, the Dean desired the guests to arrange themselves according to their own ideas of precedence, and fall to. The company were astonished to find the table without a dish, or any provisions. The Lord Chancellor, who was present, said, "Mr. Dean, we do not see the joke." "Then I will show it you," answered the Dean, turning up his plate, under which was half-a-crown, and a bill of fare from a neighbouring tavern. "Here, sir," said he, to his servant, "bring me a plate of goose." The company caught the idea, and each man sent his plate and half-a-crown. Covers, with everything that the appetites of the moment dictated, soon appeared. The novelty, the peculiarity of the manner, and the unexpected circumstances, altogether excited the plaudits of the noble guests, who declared themselves particularly gratified by the Dean's entertainment. "Well," said the Dean, "gentlemen, if you have dined, I will order the dessert." A large roll of paper, presenting the particulars of a splendid dinner, was produced, with an estimate of the expense. The Dean requested the accountant-general to deduct the half-crowns from the amount, observing, "that as his noble guests were pleased to express their satisfaction with the dinner, he begged their advice and assistance in disposing of the fragments and crumbs," as he termed the balance mentioned by the accountant-general—which was two hundred and fifty pounds. The company said, that no person was capable of instructing the Dean in things of that nature. After the circulation of the finest wines, the most judicious remarks on charity and its abuse were introduced, and it was agreed that the proper objects of liberal relief were well-educated families, who from affluence, or the expectation of it, were reduced through misfortune to silent despair. The Dean then divided the sum by the number of his guests, and addressed them according to their respective private characters, with which no one was perhaps better acquainted. "You, my Lords," said the Dean to several young noblemen, "I wish to introduce to some new acquaintance, who will at least make their acknowledgment for your favours with sincerity." "You, my reverend Lords," addressing the bishops present, "adhere so closely to the spirit of the Scriptures, that your left hands are literally ignorant of the beneficence of your right. You, my Lord of Kildare, and the two noble lords near you, I will not entrust with any part of this money, as you have been long in the usurious habits of lending your own on such occasions; but your assistance, my Lord of Kerry, I must entreat, as charity covereth a multitude of sins."

"BREAKING UP" BEFORE THE HOLIDAYS.

It is related that Dr. Harrington of Bath, the Editor of Nugæ Antiquæ, for many years attended the Dowager Lady Trevor, relict of Lord Trevor, and last surviving daughter of Sir Richard Steele. "He spoke of this lady as possessing all the wit, humour, and gaiety of her father, together with most of his faults. She was extravagant, and always in debt; but she was generous, charitable, and humane. She was particularly partial to young people, whom she frequently entertained most liberally, and delighted them with the pleasantry and volubility of her discourse. Her person was like that which her pleasant father described himself in the Spectator, with his short face, etc. A little before her death (which was in the month of December) she sent for her doctor, and, on his entering her chamber, he said, 'How fares your Ladyship?' She replied, 'Oh, my dear Doctor, ill fare! I am going to break up before the holidays!'"

BOTTLE BLIND.

Dean Cowper, of Durham, was very economical of his wine. One day at table he was descanting on the extraordinary performance of a man who was blind, and remarked that the poor fellow could see no more than "that bottle." "I do not wonder at that at all, Sir," replied a minor canon; "for we have seen no more than that bottle all the afternoon."

FEARLESSNESS OF JOHN KNOX.

When Lord Darnley, in 1565, had married Mary Queen of Scots, he was prevailed on by his friends to go and hear Knox preach, in the hope that thereby he might conciliate the stem moralist and outspoken minister. But Knox seized the occasion to declaim even more vehemently against the government of wicked princes, who, for the sins of the people, are sent as tyrants and scourges to torment them. Darnley complained to the Council of the insult; and the bold preacher was forbidden the use of his pulpit for several days. Robertson thus remarks on his character:—"Rigid and uncomplying himself, he showed no regard to the infirmities of others. Regardless of the distinctions of rank and character, he uttered his admonitions with acrimony and vehemence, more apt to irritate than to reclaim. Those very qualities, however, which now render his character less amiable, fitted him to be the instrument of Providence for advancing the Reformation among a fierce people, and enabled him to face dangers, and to surmount opposition, from which a person of a more gentle spirit would have been apt to shrink back." The shortest and perhaps the best funeral oration extant, is that pronounced by the Earl of Morton over the grave of Knox: "Here lies he who never feared the face of man."

WESLEY AND BEAU NASH.

Wesley once preaching at Bath, Beau Nash entered the room, came close up to the preacher, and demanded by what authority he was acting? Wesley answered, "By the authority of Jesus Christ, conveyed to me by the present Archbishop of Canterbury, when he laid his hands upon me and said, 'Take thou authority to preach the gospel.'" Nash then affirmed that he was acting contrary to the law. "Besides," said he, "your preaching frightens people out of their wits." "Sir," replied Wesley, "did you ever hear me preach?" "No," said the master of the ceremonies. "How, then, can you judge of what you have never heard?" "By common report," said Nash. "Sir," retorted Wesley, "is not your name Nash? I dare not judge of you by common report; I think it not enough to judge by." Nash, right or wrong as to the extravagances of the Methodists, was certainly proclaiming his opinions in the wrong place; and when he desired to know what the people came there for, one of the company cried out: "Let an old woman answer him. You, Mr. Nash, take care of your body, we take care of our souls, and for the food of our souls we come here." Nash found himself so different a man in the meeting-house, to what he was in the pump-room or the assembly, that he thought it best to withdraw.

THE FRENCH REVOLUTION AND THE BIBLE.

In Silliman's Travels it is related that during the Peace of Amiens, in 1801-2, a committee of English gentlemen went over to Paris for the purpose of taking measures to supply the French with the Bible in their own language. One of these gentlemen, Mr. Hardcastle, subsequently gave the assurance that the fact which was published was literally true—that they searched Paris for several days before a single Bible could be found.

EDWARD JENNER, THE DISCOVERER OF VACCINATION.

It is to a "country doctor" that England and the world owe one of the greatest benefits that modern medical science has conferred on the race, in the practice of vaccination. The youngest son of a Gloucestershire clergyman, Edward Jenner was placed, about 1763, as apprentice to a surgeon at Sodbury; and it was there, it is stated, that first the possibility of arresting the then dreaded and dreadful ravages of small-pox entered his mind. He accidentally learned, from the conversation of a young serving woman—who boasted that she was safe from that disease because she had had "cow-pox"—that among servants in the country there prevailed a belief that the small-pox could not attack any one into whose system had been absorbed the virus from a diseased cow. From that time Jenner never lost sight of the idea. He spent some time in London finishing his studies, under the prelections of John Hunter; and then he settled, for life as it proved, at Berkeley, in Gloucestershire. Pursuing inquiries and experiments on the subject of vaccination, he established the efficacy of the rural system of inducing "cow-pox" as a preventive against small-pox; which had originated by inoculation, accidental or designed, with some of the matter afforded by a peculiar disease of the udder of a cow, and which could be communicated by inoculation from one human being to another with the same preventive efficacy. In 1796, a friend of Jenner's, to whom he had communicated the results of his inquiry—Mr. Cline, surgeon to St. Thomas's Hospital—first employed vaccination in London; and the practice was speedily adopted in the army and navy, the Government bestowing on Jenner honours and rewards, and the University of Oxford conferring on him the diploma of Doctor of Medicine. Just, however, as Blackmore and Tanner had vehemently opposed inoculation, so did many members of the Faculty, foremost among them Moseley, Birch, and Woodville, oppose the new system of vaccination. The London mob were asked and induced to believe that if they submitted to vaccination they were in jeopardy of being converted into members of the canine species, and that the operation would infallibly be followed by the development of horns, and tail, and "thick natural fell" of hair. A child was said to have never ceased, since he received the matter into his system, to run about on all fours and imitate the lowing of a bull! In a caricature Jenner was mounted on a cow. Moseley indited verses, of which this is a sample:—

Even in Berkeley, Jenner was pursued with ridicule and suspicion; but he went quietly on his rounds, waiting confidently till the storm was laid, plashing through the Gloucestershire lanes in the garb that an acquaintance has thus described:—"He was dressed in a blue coat and yellow buttons, buckskins, well-polished jockey-boots, with handsome silver spurs, and he carried a smart whip with a silver handle. His hair, after the fashion, was done up in a club, and he wore a broad-brimmed hat." But Jenner, says Mr. Jeaffreson, found also compensation for all the ridicule and opposition "in the enthusiastic support of Rowland Hill, who not only advocated vaccination in his ordinary conversation, but from the pulpit used to say, after his sermon to his congregation, wherever he preached, 'I am ready to vaccinate to-morrow morning as many children as you choose; and if you wish them to escape that horrid disease, the small-pox, you will bring them.' A Vaccine Board was also established at the Surrey Chapel—i.e. the Octagon Chapel, in Blackfriars Road. 'My Lord,' said Rowland Hill once to a nobleman, 'allow me to present to your Lordship my friend, Dr. Jenner, who has been the means of saving more lives than any other man.' 'Ah!' observed Jenner, 'would that I, like you, could say—souls.' There was no cant in this. Jenner was a simple, unaffected, and devout man. His last words were, 'I do not marvel that men are grateful to me; but I am surprised that they do not feel gratitude to God for making me a medium of good.'"

ANGEL-WORSHIP.

A now obsolete ecclesiastical custom in Scotland was, Dean Ramsay says, that the minister should bow in succession to the heritors or proprietors in the parish, who occupied the front gallery seats; a custom, when the position of the heritors was tolerably well matched, that led to an unpleasant contest at times as to who was entitled to the precedence of getting the first bow. A clever and complimentary reply was made by Dr. Wightman of Kirkmahoe, when rallied on one occasion for neglecting this usual act of courtesy one Sunday. The heritor who was entitled to, and always received, this token of respect, was Miller of Dalswinton. One Sunday, the Dalswinton pew was filled by a bevy of ladies, but no gentleman was present; and the Doctor—perhaps because he was a bachelor, and felt a delicacy in the circumstances—omitted the usual salaam in that direction. A few days after, meeting Miss Miller (who was widely famed for her beauty, and afterwards became Countess of Mar), she rallied him, in presence of her companions, for not bowing to her on the Sunday. The Doctor immediately replied, "I beg your pardon, Miss Miller; but you know, surely, that angel-worship is not allowed by the Church of Scotland;" and, lifting his hat, he bowed low and passed on.

BUNYAN'S SUCCESSFUL AND PRESISTENT PREACHING.

A student of Cambridge observing a multitude flock to a village church on a working day, inquired what was the cause. On being informed that "one Bunyan, a tinker," was to preach there, he gave a boy a few halfpence to hold his horse, resolved, as he said, "to hear the tinker prate." The tinker prated to such effect, that for some time the scholar wished to hear no other preacher; and, through his future life, gave proofs of the advantages he had received from the humble ministry of the author of the Pilgrim's Progress. Bunyan, with rude but irresistible zeal, preached throughout the country, and formed the greater part of the Baptist churches in Bedfordshire; until, at the Restoration, he was thrown into prison, where he remained twelve years. During his confinement he preached to all to whom he could gain access; and when liberty was offered to him on condition of promising to abstain from preaching, he constantly replied, "If you let me out to-day, I shall preach again to-morrow." Bunyan, on being liberated, became pastor of the Baptist Church at Bedford; and when the kingdom enjoyed more religious liberty, he enlarged the sphere of his usefulness by preaching every year in London, where he excited great attention. On one day's notice, such multitudes would assemble, that the places of worship could not hold them. "At a lecture at seven o'clock in the dark mornings of winter," says one of his contemporaries, "I have seen about twelve hundred; and I computed about three thousand that came to hear him on a Lord's day, so that one-half of them were obliged to return for want of room."

LETTSOM'S LIBERATION OF HIS SLAVES.

Dr. Lettsom, the founder of the Sea-Bathing Infirmary at Margate, and of the General Dispensary, was left by his father a property, which happened to consist almost entirely of a number of slaves on an estate in Jamaica. When the benevolent doctor went out to the West Indies to take possession of his inheritance, he is said to have emancipated every one of the slaves on his arrival; so that, in the words of his biographer, "he became a voluntary beggar at the age of twenty-three." The doctor went afterwards to Tortola, where, by his practice as a physician, he amassed a considerable sum of money, with which he returned to England in 1768, and attained a distinguished position among the Metropolitan practitioners.

CIVIL TO THE PRINCE OF EVIL.

The devil, in his malignant wrestlings with the spirits of the righteous, has not always been so energetically and uncivilly received as by Luther and his ink-bottle. It is related in all seriousness, that a minister who "used often to preach for Mr. Huntington, was talking one Lord's day morning, at Providence Chapel, about a trial he underwent in his own parlour, wherein the devil had 'set in' with his unbelief to dispute him out of some truth that was essential to salvation. He said he was determined that the devil should not have his way, and he therefore 'drew a chair for him, and desired him to sit down that they might have it out together.' According to his own account, he gained a great victory over the empty chair." He did better in his confidence than Barcena the Jesuit did in the opposite spirit; who told another of his order that when the devil appeared to him one night, out of his profound humility he rose up to meet him, and prayed him to sit down in his chair, for he was more worthy to sit there than he!

"PERKINS' TRACTORS" EXPOSED.

Faith in the medicinal potency of the properties of the loadstone was, for centuries after its discovery, a regular part of many physicians' mental stock-in-trade; and pulverized magnet was administered in the form of pills, and potions, and salves, even after Dr. Gilbert, of Colchester, had in 1660 scientifically ascertained and published the fact, that when reduced to powder the loadstone ceases totally to possess its magnetic properties. The belief in the efficacy of magnets held its ground much later. Even in 1779 and 1780, the Royal Society of Medicine at Paris made experiments with the view of precisely ascertaining the influence of magnets on the human system; and the conclusion reached was, that they exerted a healing potency of no contemptible character. It was about this time that the instruments called "Perkins' Tractors," which were supposed to be endowed with magnetic power, came into vogue. Perkins was an American citizen, from the shrewd State of Connecticut; and only he could make, and only he sell, the painted nails, composed of an alloy of various metals, that were in great demand among the credulous and the wealthy. For a considerable time the wonderful tractors attracted and perplexed everybody; until Dr. Haygarth of Bath, in the following manner, made it apparent that the efficacy of the tractors lay not in themselves, but in the mental condition of the person upon whom they were used:—"Robert Thomas, aged forty-three, who had been for some time under the care of Dr. Lovell, in the Bristol Infirmary, with a rheumatic affection of the shoulder, which rendered his arm perfectly useless, was pointed out as a proper object of trial by Mr. J. W. Dyer, apothecary to the house. Tuesday, April 19th, having everything in readiness, I passed through the ward, and, in a way that he might suspect nothing, questioned him respecting his complaint. I then told him that I had an instrument in my pocket which had been very serviceable to many in his state; and when I had explained to him how simple it was, he consented to undergo the operation. In six minutes no other effect was produced than a warmth upon the skin, and I feared that this coup d'essai had failed. The next day, however, he told me that 'he had received so much benefit that it had enabled him to lift his hand from his knee, which he had in vain several times attempted on Monday evening, as the whole ward witnessed.' The tractors I used being made of lead, I thought it advisable to lay them aside, lest, being metallic points, the proof against the fraud might be less complete. Thus much, however, was proved, that the patent tractors possessed no specific power independent of simple metals. Two pieces of wood, properly shaped and painted, were next made use of; and in order to add solemnity to the farce, Mr. Barton held in his hand a stop-watch, whilst Mr. Lax minuted the effects produced. In four minutes the man raised his hand several inches, and he had lost also the pain in his shoulder, usually experienced when attempting to lift anything. He continued to undergo the operation daily, and with progressive good effect; for, on the twenty-fifth, he could touch the mantelpiece. On the twenty-seventh, in the presence of Dr. Lovell and Mr. J. P. Noble, two common iron nails, disguised with sealing-wax, were substituted for the pieces of mahogany before used. In three minutes he felt something moving from his arm to his hand, and soon after he touched the board of rules which hung a foot above the fire-place. This patient at length so far recovered that he could carry coals and use his arm sufficiently to help the nurse; yet, previous to the use of the spurious tractors, he could no more lift his hand from his knee than if a hundredweight were upon it, or a nail driven through it, as he declared in the presence of several gentlemen. The fame of this case brought applications in abundance; indeed, it must be confessed, that it was more than sufficient to act upon weak minds, and induce a belief that these pieces of wood and iron were endowed with some peculiar virtues."

The prosecution and publication of the result of Haygarth's experiments, led to the downfall of Perkins and the discredit of the tractors; but it was not very long before Mesmerism had established a yet stronger hold on the public credulity, which seems never to be content, if it is not fooled to the top of its bent.

WHITFIELD "IMPROVING" AN EXECUTION IN EDINBURGH.

When Whitfield first went to Scotland, he was received in Edinburgh with a kind of frantic joy by many of the citizens. The day after his arrival, an unhappy man, who had forfeited his life to the offended laws of his country, was to be executed. Mr. Whitfield mingled in the crowd on the occasion, and seemed highly pleased with the solemnity and decorum with which the awful scene was conducted. His appearance, however, drew the eyes of all around him, and raised a variety of opinions as to his motives. The next day being Sunday, he preached to a very large congregation in a field near the city. In the course of his sermon, he adverted to the execution which had taken place on the preceding day. "I know," said he, "that many of you will find it difficult to reconcile my appearance yesterday with my character. Many of you, I know, will say that my moments would have been better employed in praying for the unhappy man than in attending him to the fatal tree, and that perhaps curiosity was the only cause that converted me into a spectator on that occasion. But those who ascribe that uncharitable motive to me, are under a mistake. I went as an observer of human nature, and to see the effect that such an example would have on those who witnessed it. I watched the conduct of almost every one present on that awful occasion, and I was highly pleased with their demeanour, which has given me a very favourable opinion of the Scottish nation. Your sympathy was visible on your countenances, and reflected the goodness of your hearts, particularly when the moment arrived that your unhappy fellow-creature was to close his eyes on this world for ever; then you all, as if moved by one impulse, turned your heads aside, and wept. Those tears were precious, and will be held in remembrance. How different was it when the Saviour of mankind was extended on the cross! The Jews, instead of sympathizing in His sorrows, triumphed in them. They reviled Him with bitter expressions, with words even more bitter than the gall and vinegar which they handed Him to drink. Not one of all that witnessed His pains turned His head aside, even in the last pang. Yes, my friends, there was one; that glorious luminary (pointing to the sun) veiled his brightness, and travelled on his course in tenfold night."

DR. JOHNSON'S OPINION OF WHITFIELD.

Boswell informs us that Dr. Johnson would not allow much merit to Whitfield's oratory. "His popularity, Sir," said he, "is chiefly owing to the peculiarity of his manner. He would be followed by crowds were he to wear a nightcap in the pulpit, or were he to preach from a tree." And again: "Whitfield never drew as much attention as a mountebank does; he did not draw attention by doing better than others, but by doing what was strange. Were Astley to preach a sermon standing upon his head on a horse's back, he would collect a multitude to hear him; but no wise man would say he had made a better sermon for that. I never treated Whitfield's ministry with contempt; I believe he did good. He had devoted himself to the lower classes of mankind, and among them he was of use. But when familiarity and noise claim the praise due to knowledge, art, and elegance, we must beat down such pretensions."

DR. WOLCOT ("PETER PINDAR") IN JAMAICA.

Dr. Wolcot, the patron of Opie, and better known to fame as "Peter Pindar," practised medicine—descending from a family, members of which in several generations had followed the same profession in Devon and Cornwall. Sir William Trelawny, when he went as Governor to Jamaica, took Wolcot out as surgeon to his household; and there he figured in several characters—as grand master of the ceremonies, private secretary, and chaplain. Whether or not he ever received regular ordination, it is certain that Wolcot acted as rector in the colony for some time; and odd stories of his behaviour as a parish priest were current among his friends as well as his enemies. He read prayers and preached when a congregation presented itself; but that was not oftener than about every fourth Sunday. He was a capital shot, and, with his clerk, used to amuse himself with shooting pigeons. Having shot their way to the church, the pair were wont to wait ten minutes in the porch for the arrival of the congregation; at the end of which time, if nobody appeared, the reverend sportsmen returned to their amusement. If a few negroes only presented themselves at the church, the rector bought them off with a little money; and one old negro, finding out Wolcot's weakness, after a time attended every Sunday, when the rector would address him: "What do you come here for, blackee?" "Why, Massa, for to hear your good sermon and all the prayer ob de church." "Would not a bit or two do you more good?" "Yes, massa doctor; me lub prayer much, but me lub money too." The little transaction would then take place, and the darky retire grinning; and it is said that this man drew thus an income from Wolcot for a whole year. When he returned to England, Wolcot did not succeed in obtaining a practice, and abandoned both physic and divinity for satire—which yielded him a good income while he lived, and won him fame both with his own generation and with posterity.

CHARITY OF ARCHBISHOP TILLOTSON.

In 1685, Archbishop Tillotson avowed himself a warm advocate for affording charitable relief to the French refugees, on the recall of the Edict of Nantes. Dr. Beveridge, the prebendary of Canterbury, having objected to reading a brief for this purpose, as contrary to the rubric, the Archbishop observed to him roughly, "Doctor, Doctor, charity is above all rubrics." While Tillotson was in a private station, he always laid aside two-tenths of his income for charitable uses; and after his elevation to the mitre, he so constantly expended all that he could spare of his annual revenues in acts of beneficence, that the only legacy which he was able to leave to his family consisted of two volumes of sermons, the value of which, however, was such, that the copyright brought not less than £2500. Of Tillotson it is told that once, when King William III. complained of the shortness of his sermon, he replied, "Sire, could I have bestowed more time upon it, it would not have been so long."

DRUBBING-IN RELIGIOUS FEELING.

Pietro della Valle, "who," says Southey, "could be amused at the superstition of others," reports that when the Ecce Homo was displayed during a sermon in the Jesuit church at Goa, the women used to beat their servants if they did not cry enough to please them.

BON-MOTS OF SYDNEY SMITH.

Sydney Smith was once dining in company with a French gentleman, who had before dinner indulged in a number of free-thinking speculations, and ended by avowing himself a materialist. "Very good soup, this," said Mr. Smith. "Yes, Sir, it is excellent," was the reply. "Pray, Sir, do you believe in a cook?" inquired Mr. Smith.—"Do you believe in the apostolical succession?" inquired one of Smith. "I do," he replied; "and my faith in that dogma dates from the moment I became acquainted with the Bishop of ——, who is so like Judas!"—In preaching a charity sermon, Sydney Smith frequently repeated the assertion that, of all nations, Englishmen were most distinguished for their generosity, and the love of their species. The collection happening to be inferior to his expectation, provoked him to say, that he had evidently made a great mistake; for that his expression should have been, that they were distinguished for the love of their specie.—On the departure of Bishop Selwyn for his diocese, New Zealand, Smith, when taking his leave of him, said: "Good-bye, my dear Selwyn; I hope you will not disagree with the man who eats you!"—A friend of Smith inquired, "What is Puseyism?" To which the witty canon replied: "Puseyism, Sir, is inflexion and genuflexion; posture and imposture; bowing to the east, and curtseying to the west."

THE ORIGIN OF OUR INDIAN COMMERCE.

It is perhaps not generally known, says Wadd, in his Memoirs, that it was an English surgeon of the name of Broughton whose good fortune it was to open the commerce of India to his countrymen, by the following accident. Having been sent from Surat to Agra in the year 1636, to treat one of the daughters of the Emperor Shah Jehan, he had the good fortune to cure the Princess. By way of recompense, the Emperor, among other favours, gave him the privilege of a free commerce throughout the whole extent of his dominions. Broughton immediately returned to Bengal, to purchase goods, and transmit them by sea to Surat. Scarcely had he returned when he was requested to attend the favourite of the Nabob of the province, labouring under a very dangerous disease. Having fortunately restored his patient to health, the Nabob settled a pension upon him, confirmed the privilege of the Emperor, and promised to allow the same to all the English who should come to Bengal. Broughton communicated all this to the English Governor at Surat, and it was by the advice of the latter that the company sent from England, in 1640, two ships to Bengal. Such was the origin of a commerce that has since been carried to so great an extent—and made the foundation of a vast empire.

CHARLES II. AND BISHOP STILLINGFLEET.

Charles the Second once demanded of Dr. Stillingfleet, who was a preacher to the Court, "Why he read his sermons before him, when on every other occasion his sermons were delivered extempore?" The Bishop answered, that, overawed by so many great and noble personages, and in the presence of his Sovereign, he dared not to trust his powers. "And now," said the divine, "will your Majesty permit me to ask a question?" "Certainly," said the condescending monarch. "Why, then, does your Majesty read your speeches, when it may be presumed that you can have no such reason?" "Why, truly," said the King, "I have asked my subjects so often for money, that I am ashamed to look them in the face."

A TOO PERSONAL APPLICATION.

When Dr. Beadon was rector of Eltham, in Kent, his text one day was, "Who art thou?" After reading the text, he made a pause, for the congregation to reflect upon the words; when a gentleman, in a military dress, who at the instant was marching very sedately up the middle aisle of the church, supposing it a question addressed to him, to the surprise of all present replied, "I am, Sir, an officer of the sixteenth regiment of foot, on a recruiting party here; and having brought my wife and family with me, I wish to be acquainted with the neighbouring clergy and gentry." This so deranged the divine, and astonished the congregation, that though they attempted to listen with decorum, the service was not continued without considerable difficulty.

PREACHING TO PURPOSE.

Burnet records that "two entries made in the Council Books, show the good effects of Latimer's zealous preaching. On the 10th of March he brought in £104 recovered of one who had concealed it from the King, and a little after, £363 of the King's money." The amount of this conscience-money must of course be multiplied manifold, to estimate aright the penetrating and persuading power of the preacher. Latimer's style of preaching is said to have been extremely captivating; simple and familiar, often enlivened with anecdote, irony, and humour; and still oftener swelling into strains of most impassioned and awakening eloquence. Of the earnestness of his manner, which could lead to the disgorgement of great plunder by unscrupulous men, the following, from a sermon against the corruptions of the age, may be taken as a sample:—"Take heed and beware of covetousness; take heed and beware of covetousness; take heed and beware of covetousness. And what if I should say nothing else these three or four hours but these words? Great complaints there are of it, and much crying out, and much preaching, but little amendment that I can see; Covetousness is the root of all evil. Then have at the root; out with your swords, ye preachers, and strike at the root. Stand not ticking and toying at the branches, for new branches will spring out again, but strike at the root; and fear not these great men, these men of power, these oppressors of the needy—fear them not, but strike at the root." In another sermon, Latimer himself gives some account of the restitutions he brought about:—"At my first preaching of restitution, one man took remorse of conscience, and acknowledged himself to me that he had deceived the King, and willing he was to make restitution; and so the first Lent came to my hands £20 to be restored to the King's use. I was promised £20 more the same Lent; but it could not be made, so that it came not. Well, the next Lent came £320 more. I received it myself and paid it to the King's council. So I was asked what he was that made this restitution. But should I have named him? Nay, they should as soon have this weasand of mine. Well, now, this Lent came £180, 10s. which I was paid, and delivered this present day to the King's council; and so this man hath made a godly restitution. And so, quoth I to a certain nobleman that is one of the King's council, if every man that hath beguiled the King should make restitution after this sort, it would cough the King £20,000 I think, said I. Yea, that it would, quoth the other, a whole £100,000. Alack! alack! make restitution for God's sake; ye will cough in hell else, that all the devils there will laugh at your coughing. There is no remedy but restitution, open or secret, or else hell."

SERVANT AND MASTER.

A preacher who differed in opinion with Adolphus Gunn, called upon him, and being known, was denied admittance, "Mr. Gunn being busy in his study." "Tell him," said the importunate visitor, "that a servant of the Lord wishes to speak to him." Gunn sent back this answer: "Tell the servant of the Lord that I am engaged with his Master."

DR. BARROWBY,

Who lived about the middle of last century, when canvassing for a post in St. Bartholomew's Hospital, called upon a grocer in Snow Hill, one of the governors. The grocer was sitting in his counting-house, and thence saw the Doctor enter the shop. Knowing his person, and having little doubt that the object of his visit was to solicit his vote at the approaching election, the grocer immediately donned his hat and spectacles, and greatest parochial consequence, and, strutting into the shop with an insolent air of patronage, addressed the Doctor with—"Well, friend, and what is your business?" Barrowby promptly and quietly said, "I want a pound of plums;" and after the abashed and mortified grocer had weighed them out and put them up, Barrowby paid for them and walked off without saying a word. (This story has been erroneously told of Abernethy.) Of the same Dr. Barrowby, it is related that an Irish gentleman, whom the College of Physicians had declined to pass, called next day on him, and insisted upon fighting him, as being one of the Censors who had been the authors of the rejection. Barrowby, who was small of stature, declined to fight. "I am only the third Censor," he said, "in point of age; you must first call out your countryman, Sir Hans Sloane, our President, and when you have fought him and the two senior Censors, then I shall be ready to meet you."

A DESIRABLE CURE OF SOULS.

Southey copied the following from Jackson's Oxford Journal:—

"NEXT PRESENTATION.

"To be sold by auction, by Hoggart and Philips, at the Auction Mart, opposite the Bank of England, on Thursday next, the 11th day of April 1811, the next presentation to a most valuable living, in one of the first sporting counties. The vicinity affords the best coursing in England, also excellent fishing, an extensive cover for game, and numerous packs of fox-hounds, harriers, etc.; it is half-an-hour's ride from one of the first cities, and not far distant from several most fashionable watering-places; the surrounding country is beautiful and healthful, and the society elegant and fashionable. The incumbent is about fifty years of age. Particulars may be had," etc. etc.

BEAU NASH'S TREATMENT OF A PRESCRIPTION.

When Beau Nash was ill, Dr. Cheyne wrote a prescription for him. Next day the Doctor, coming to see his patient, asked him if he had followed the prescription. "No, truly, Doctor," was the answer of Nash; "if I had I should have broken my neck, for I threw it out of a two pair of stairs' window."

PULTENEY'S CURE BY SMALL BEER.

Mr. Pulteney, afterwards the Earl of Bath, lay (about 1730) for a long time at Lord Chetwynd's house of Ingestre, in Staffordshire, sick, very dangerously, of a pleuritic fever. This illness cost him an expense of 750 guineas for physicians; and, after all, his cure was accomplished merely by a draught of small beer. Dr. Hope, Dr. Swynsen, and other physicians from Stafford, Lichfield, and Derby, were called in, and carried off about 250 guineas of the patient's money, leaving the malady just where they found it. Dr. Freind went down post from London, with Mrs. Pulteney, and received 300 guineas for the journey. Dr. Broxholm went from Oxford, and received 200 guineas. When these two physicians, who were Pulteney's particular friends, arrived, they found his case to be quite desperate, and gave him over, saying that everything had been done that could be done. They prescribed some few medicines, but without the least effect. He was still alive, and was heard to mutter, in a low voice, "Small beer, small beer." They said, "Give him small beer, or anything." Accordingly, a great silver cup was brought, which held two quarts of small beer; they ordered an orange to be squeezed into it, and gave it to him. Pulteney drank off the whole at a draught, and demanded another. Another cupful was administered to him; and soon after that he fell into a profuse perspiration and a profound slumber for nearly twenty-four hours. In his case the saying was eminently verified, "If he sleep he shall do well." From that time forth, he recovered wonderfully, insomuch that in a few days the physicians took their leave. The joy over his recovery was diffused over the whole country; for he was then in the height of that popularity which, after his elevation to the peerage, he completely forfeited.

A WITTY FRENCH PREACHER.

A French preacher, called Father André, was nicknamed by his Bishop le petit fallot (the little lantern). Having to preach before the prelate, André determined to notice this, and took for his text, "Ye are the light of the world." Addressing himself to the Bishop, he said, "Vous etês, monseigneur, le grand fallot de l'église, nous ne sommes que de petits fallots." Father André, preaching before an Archbishop, perceived him to be asleep during the sermon, and thought of the following method to awake him. Turning to the beadle of the church, he said in a loud voice, "Shut the doors, the shepherd is asleep, and the sheep are going out, to whom I am announcing the word of God." This sally caused a stir in the audience, which awoke the Archbishop. Being once to announce a collection for a young lady, to enable her to take the veil, he said, before the commencement of his sermon, "Friends, I recommend to your charity a young lady, who has not enough to enable her to make a vow of poverty." Preaching during the whole of Lent in a town where he was never invited to dine, he said, in his farewell sermon, "I have preached against every vice except that of good living—which, I believe, is not to be found among you, and therefore needed not my reproach."

CROMWELL AND RICHARD BAXTER.

After Cromwell had seized on the government, Richard Baxter, the celebrated Nonconformist divine, once preached before the Protector, when he made use of the following text: "Now, I beseech you, brethren, by the name of our Lord Jesus the Christ, that ye all speak the same thing, and that there be no division amongst you; but that ye be perfectly joined together in the same mind, and in the same judgment." The discourse on these words was levelled against the divisions and distractions which then prevailed, especially in the Church. After the sermon, Cromwell sent for Mr. Baxter, and made a long and serious speech to him, about God's providence in the change of the government, and the great things which had been done at home and abroad. Mr. Baxter answered, that it was too condescending in his Highness to acquaint him so fully with all these matters, which were above his understanding; but that the honest people of the land took their ancient monarchy to be a blessing, and not an evil, and humbly craved his patience, that he might ask how they had forfeited that blessing? At this question Cromwell became angry; he said, "There was no forfeiture; but God had changed things as it pleased Him;" and after reviling the Parliament which thwarted him, and especially by name four or five members who were particular friends of Mr. Baxter, he dismissed the worthy divine with signs of great displeasure.

MESSENGER MONSEY'S DYING JESTS.

Dr. Messenger Monsey, the great grandfather of Lord Cranworth (so at least Mr. Jeafferson affirms), was appointed physician to Chelsea Hospital through the influence of Godolphin, and, after holding that office for about half a century, died in his rooms at Chelsea in 1788, in his ninety-fifth year. The eccentricities that had characterized his prime continued to distinguish him to the last. In consequence of his great age, many intending candidates for the office went down to Chelsea, in order to contemplate the various advantages and agrémens of the situation, and observe the progress of the tenacious incumbent towards final recumbency. Monsey, who was at once a humorist, and possessed of a sharp eye for a visitor of this order, one day espied in the College walks a reconnoitring doctor, whom he thus accosted: "So, Sir, I find you are one of the candidates to succeed me." The physician bowed. Monsey proceeded: "But you will be confoundedly disappointed." "Disappointed!" exclaimed the physician, with quivering lips. "Yes," returned Monsey; "you expect to outlive me; but I can discern from your countenance, and other concomitant circumstances, that you are deceiving yourself—you will certainly die first; though, as I have nothing to expect from that event, I shall not rejoice at your death, as I am persuaded you would at mine." It actually fell out as Monsey (possibly only by way of a ghastly jest) had foretold; the candidate lived but a short time. The Doctor was so diverted with checking the aspiring hopes of his brethren of the faculty, that whenever he saw a physician on the look-out, he was not content till he had gone down to comfort him in the same manner. He did so to several; and it is very remarkable—if it be true, as it is alleged—that his predictions were in every case verified. At last the medical speculators shrank in superstitious alarm from Chelsea, and left Monsey to die in peace; indeed, when his death happened, the Minister of the day was not engaged by a single promise, nor had he had for some time a single application for the place of physician to the College. Monsey got out of his own death as much grim fun as he had out of the poor prying place-hunters. A few days before he died, he wrote to Mr. Cruickshanks, the anatomist, begging to know whether it would suit his convenience to undertake the dissection of his body, as he felt that he could not live many hours, and Mr. Forster, his surgeon, was then out of town. The dissection was one of the instructions of his eccentric and rather brutal will; his body was not to be subjected to the insult of any funeral ceremony, but, after the surgeon had finished with it, "the remainder of my carcase may be put into a hole, or crammed into a box with holes, and thrown into the Thames." His will was, so far as regards the dissection, faithfully carried out; Mr. Forster dissected the body, and delivered a lecture upon it to the medical students in the theatre of Guy's Hospital. Before he had disposed of his body by will in the manner described, and when he meant to be buried in his garden, he had written an epitaph eminently characteristic of his violent cynicism and contempt of things sacred:—

MONSEY'S EPITAPH, WRITTEN BY HIMSELF.

UNMISTAKEABLE IDENTITY.

A Reverend Doctor in London was what is usually termed a popular preacher. His reputation, however, had been gained not by his drawing largely on his own stores of knowledge or eloquence, but by the skill with which he appropriated the thoughts and language of the great divines who had gone before him. With fashionable audiences, lightly versed in pulpit lore, he passed for a miracle of erudition and pathos. It did, for all that, once happen to him to be detected in his larcenies. One Sunday, as he was beginning to amaze and delight his admirers, a grave old gentleman seated himself close to the pulpit, and listened with close attention. The preacher had hardly finished his third sentence, before the old gentleman muttered, loud enough to be heard by those near, "That's Sherlock!" The Doctor frowned, but went on. He had not proceeded much further, when his tormentor broke out with, "That's Tillotson!" The Doctor bit his lips and paused, but, considering discretion the better part of valour, again proceeded. A third exclamation of "That's Blair!" however, was too much, and fairly deprived him of patience. Leaning over the pulpit, he cried, "Fellow, if you do not hold your tongue, you shall be turned out!" Without moving a muscle of his face, the grave old gentleman raised his head, and, looking the Doctor full in the face, retorted, "That's his own!"

WHITFIELD AND THE NEW YORK SAILORS.

When Whitfield preached before the seamen at New York, he had the following bold apostrophe in his sermon:—"Well, my boys, we have a clear sky, and are making fine headway over a smooth sea, before a light breeze, and we shall soon lose sight of land. But what means this sudden lowering of the heavens, and that dark cloud arising from beneath the western horizon? Hark! Don't you hear distant thunder? Don't you see those flashes of lightning? There is a storm gathering! Every man to his duty! How the waves rise, and dash against the ship! The air is dark! The tempest rages! Our masts are gone! The ship is on her beam ends! What next?" It is said that the unsuspecting tars, reminded of former perils on the deep, as if struck by the power of magic, arose with united voices and minds, and shouted, "Take to the long boat."

CLEVER PERVERSION OF SCRIPTURE.

Dr. Williamson, Vicar of Moulton, in Lincolnshire, had a violent quarrel with one of his parishioners of the name of Hardy, who showed considerable resentment. On the succeeding Sunday the Doctor preached from the following text, which he pronounced with much emphasis, and with a significant look at Mr. Hardy, who was present: "There is no fool like the fool Hardy."

DR. WASDALE'S LONG RIDE.

Dr. Wasdale, who originally was an apothecary, resided at Carlisle when George III. came to the throne; and as he had some business to transact in London, he was desirous to see the pageant of the coronation at the same time. As he was very busy in his professional engagements at Carlisle, he set out on a Saturday after the market was over, about one in the afternoon, and got to London the next day, Sunday, in the evening, having ridden 301 miles in twenty-eight hours. He left London again on the following Thursday about noon, and got home on Friday in the evening. This is perhaps the greatest equestrian feat in medical annals; and, for the information of possible rivals, the Doctor left the memorandum "that he made use of his own saddle the whole journey." Dr. Wasdale, in the later part of his life, resided in Spring Gardens, but did not engage in practice, acting as private secretary to the Duke of Norfolk.

ICONOCLASTIC ZEAL IN THE NORTH.

"The high altar at Aberdeen"—so we read in Douglas's East Coast of Scotland, published at the end of last century—"a piece of the finest workmanship of anything of the kind in Europe, was hewn to pieces in 1649, by order of the parish minister. The carpenter employed for this infamous purpose, struck with the noble workmanship, refused to lay a tool on it; till the more than Gothic priest took the hatchet from his hand, and struck the first blow." Elsewhere Douglas, who displays a heart hatred of the image-breakers, remarks that, "so violent was the zeal of that reforming period against all monuments of idolatry, that perhaps the sun and moon, very ancient objects of false worship, owed their safety to their distance."

UNCONCERN IN PRESENCE OF DEATH.

Dr. Woodville, the author of a work on medical botany, lived in lodgings at a carpenter's house in Ely Place, London; and a few days before he died, Dr. Adams brought about his removal, for better attendance, to the Small-pox Hospital. The carpenter with whom he lodged had not been always on the best terms with him. Woodville said he should like to let the man see that he died at peace with him, and, as he never had had much occasion to employ him, desired that he might be sent for to come and measure him for his coffin. This was done; the carpenter came, and took measure of the Doctor, who begged him not to be more than two days about it, "for," said he, "I shall not live beyond that time;" and he actually did die just before the end of the next day. A contemporary and friend of his, Dr. George Fordyce, also expired under similar circumstances. He desired his youngest daughter, who was sitting by his bedside, to take up a book and read to him; she read for about twenty minutes, when the Doctor said, "Stop, go out of the room; I am going to die." She put down the book, and went out of the room to call the attendant, who immediately went into the bedroom and found that Fordyce had breathed his last.

AN AGRICULTURAL DEFENCE OF BIGOTRY.

In Ryder's History of England, a singular reason is stated to have been alleged by the Interlocutor, in support of a motion he had made in Convocation against permitting the printing of Cranmer's translation of the Bible. "If," said the mover, "we give them the Scriptures in their vernacular tongue, what ploughman who has read that 'no man having set his hand to the plough, and looking back, is fit for the kingdom of heaven,' will thenceforth make a straight furrow?"

PURITAN RECHRISTENING OF PLAYING CARDS.

The Puritans objected to the use of "heathen" names, not only for children, but for the "court" cards of the pack. They complained, according to Collier, of the appellations of Hercules, Alexander, Julius Cæsar, Hector, and such like; and they wanted to have the Kings called David, Solomon, Isaiah, and Hezekiah; the Queens, Sarah, Rachel, Esther, and Susannah; the Knaves, Balak, Achitophel, Tobit, and Bel. There was, however, it must be confessed, considerable toleration in their permitting the use of cards at all.

JOHN HUNTER THE ANATOMIST.

Wadd, in his interesting collection of medical Mems., Maxims, and Memoirs, says of John Hunter:—"When Hunter began practice, the town was in possession of Hawkins, Bromfield, Sharpe, and Pott; whilst Adair and Tomkins had the chief practice derived from the army. He remained in unenvied obscurity for many years; and so little was he considered, that some time after he began lecturing his class consisted of less than twenty. Dr. Denman used to say that William Hunter was a man of order, and John Hunter a man of genius; and, in truth, with all his cleverness, which was more than ordinary, the Doctor always felt John's superiority. 'In this I am only my brother's interpreter.' 'I am simply the demonstrator of this discovery; it was my brother's'—were his constant expressions. Hunter was a philosopher in more senses than one: he had philosophy enough to bear prosperity as well as adversity, and with a rough exterior was a very kind man. The poor could command his services more than the rich. He would see an industrious tradesman before a duke, when his house was full of grandees. 'You have no time to spare,' he would say; 'you live by it: most of these can wait; they have nothing to do when they go home.' No man cared less for the profits of the profession, or more for the honour of it. He cared not for money himself, and wished the Doctor to estimate it by the same scale, when he sent a poor man with this laconic note:—

'Dear Brother,—The bearer wants your advice. I do not know the nature of the case. He has no money, and you have plenty, so you are well met.—Yours,

'J. Hunter.'

He was once applied to, to perform a serious operation on a tradesman's wife; the fee agreed upon was twenty guineas. He heard no more of the case for two months, at the end of which time he was called upon to perform it. In the course of his attendance he found out that the cause of the delay had been the difficulty under which the patient's husband had laboured to raise the money; and that they were worthy people, who had been unfortunate, and were by no means able to support the expense of such an affliction. 'I sent back to the husband nineteen guineas, and kept the twentieth,' said he, 'that they might not be hurt with an idea of too great an obligation. It somewhat more than paid me for the expense I had been at in the business.' He held the operative part of surgery in the lowest estimation. 'To perform an operation,' said he, 'is to mutilate the patient whom we are unable to cure; it should therefore be considered as an acknowledgment of the imperfection of our art.' Among other characteristics of genius, was his simplicity of character and singleness of mind. His works were announced as the works of John Hunter; and John Hunter on a plain brass plate announced his residence. His honour and his pride made him look with contempt on the unworthy arts by which ignorant and greedy men advance their fortunes. He contemplated the hallowed duties of his art with the feelings of a philanthropist and a philosopher; and although surgery had been cultivated more than 2000 years, this single individual did more towards establishing it as a science, than all who preceded him."

LORD BACON ON THE REVIVAL OF "PROPHESYING."

Lord Bacon, in his Inquiry on the Pacification of the Church, asks whether it might not be advantageous to renew the good service that was practised in the Church of England for some years, and afterwards put down, against the advice and opinion of one of the greatest and gravest prelates of the land. The service in question was commonly called "prophesying;" and from this description of it by Bacon it may be seen that it might have benefits of its own, not in the Church of England alone or especially, if it were resumed at the present day:—"The ministers within a precinct did meet upon a week-day in some principal town, where there was some ancient grave minister that was president, and an auditory admitted of gentlemen, or other persons of leisure. Then every minister successively, beginning with the youngest, did handle one and the same part of Scripture, spending severally some quarter of an hour or better, and in the whole, some two hours; and so the exercise being begun and concluded with prayer, and the president giving a text for the next meeting, the assembly was dissolved; and this was, as I take it, a fortnight's exercise, which in my opinion was the best way to frame and train up preachers to handle the word of God as it ought to be handled, that hath been practised. For we see orators have their declamations; lawyers have their merits; logicians their sophisms; and every practice of science hath an exercise of erudition and imitation before men come to the life; only preaching, which is the worthiest, and wherein it is most dangerous to do amiss, wanteth an introduction, and is ventured and rushed upon at first."