NOTE.

Clergymen and Doctors are so frequently associated, in connection with the most pleasant and the most grave necessities and occurrences of actual life, that if any apology is needed for uniting them on the present occasion, it is only because the abundant fund of anecdote and interest relating to both professions can therefore be drawn upon to the smaller extent. In this, as in the other volumes of this little series, the only plan followed has been that of striving to be brief and interesting in each selection or summary. Much of the charm and value of a collection of this kind consists in the large admixture of personal incident, and liberal display of individual character—which the nature and duties of the clerical and medical professions render so easy. But it has also been sought to present, not of course in order or in complete series, a number of such curious facts as throw a side-light at once on professional and social history; and it is confidently hoped that thus the collection will not only amuse, but inform.

CLERGYMEN AND DOCTORS.

CURIOUS FACTS AND CHARACTERISTIC SKETCHES.

SIR ASTLEY COOPER'S NIGHTCAP FEE.

Living as he long did in the City,—in Broad Street,—Sir Astley Cooper, the most distinguished surgeon of his time, made a very large income; which, however, naturally enough rose and fell somewhat in sympathy with the state of the markets. In one year he made 20,000 guineas; and for many years his income was over £15,000. From one Mincing Lane merchant, whom he usually visited at Croydon, Sir Astley derived for a long period an annual revenue of £600. Large individual fees, of course, were also paid by the wealthy traders and financiers on special occasions; and once, and once only, Sir Astley received—and received in a very whimsical fashion—the splendid honorarium of a thousand guineas. A West Indian millionaire, of the name of Hyatt, during a painful and critical operation which he had to undergo, was attended by Drs. Lettsom and Nelson as physicians, and by Sir Astley Cooper as surgeon. The operation was successful, and the patient speedily felt in himself the promise of recovered health and spirits. He did not wait for his complete recovery to evince his sense of gratitude and joy; but promptly rewarded his physicians with a fee of 300 guineas each. "As for you, Sir," the millionaire said, sitting up in bed and addressing himself to Sir Astley,—"you, Sir, shall have something better than that; there, Sir, take that!"—and he flung his nightcap at the great surgeon. Sir Astley picked up the nightcap, saying, "Sir, I pocket the affront;" and on reaching home he found in the cap a cheque for 1000 guineas. In his younger days, however, Sir Astley Cooper had sowed, by anxious and ill-rewarded waiting, the seeds of his subsequent great renown and revenue: in his first year of practice his profits were but five guineas; in his second, twenty-six pounds; in his third, thirty-four; and only in the ninth year did his income mount above a thousand pounds.

ELOQUENCE OF MASSILLON.

Jean Baptiste Massillon, born in 1663 at Hyères, was one of the greatest pulpit orators of France. At the age of seventeen he entered the congregation of the Oratory, at Paris, and won very high favour; but, being enviously accused of some amours, he went into retirement for a short time. The eloquence by which his funeral sermon, at his retirement at St. Fonds, on the Archbishop de Villars was characterized, led to his reluctant but triumphant return to Paris. The applause with which his oratory met there, even at the Court, was almost unparalleled. When he preached the first Advent sermon at Versailles, Louis XIV. paid the following most happy and expressive testimony to the power of his preaching: "Father, when I hear other preachers, I am very well satisfied with them; when I hear you, I am dissatisfied with myself." The effect of his first delivery of the sermon "On the small number of the Elect," has been described as almost miraculous. At a certain powerful passage in it, the entire auditory was seized with such violent emotion, that almost every person half rose from his seat, as if to endeavour to shake off the horror of being one of those cast out into everlasting darkness. He spoke with that strong, earnest simplicity which is the surest key to the hearts of all but the utterly devoid of feeling. When asked once where a man like him, whose life was dedicated to retirement, could borrow his admirable descriptions of real life, he answered, "From the human heart; let us examine it ever so slightly, we find in it the seeds of every passion. When I compose a sermon, I imagine myself consulted upon some difficult piece of business. I give my whole application to determine the person who has recourse to me to act the good and proper part. I exhort him, I urge him, and I quit him not until he has yielded to my persuasions."

ADDISON'S INTRODUCTION TO BAXTER.

Addison says that he once met with a page of Mr. Baxter under a Christmas pie. "Whether or no the pastry-cook had made use of it through chance or waggery, for the defence of that superstitious viande, I know not; but, upon the perusal of it, I conceived so good an idea of the author's piety that I bought the whole book."

THE PARTNERSHIP OF HUNTER AND CULLEN.

Dr. William Cullen, the celebrated physician and medical writer, and Dr. William Hunter, the brother of the great anatomist, when young men formed a copartnery of as singular and noble a nature as any to be found in the records of their profession. They were both natives of the neighbourhood of Glasgow, and Hunter studied for the church at that university. But he accidentally became acquainted with Cullen, who was some years his senior, and had settled in a medical practice at Hamilton; and this friendship, strengthening his natural inclination, drew Hunter away from the study of theology to that of medicine. He went to reside with Cullen, and entered into partnership with him—neither of the young men being well to do, and both stimulated by the impulse of genius to take this step in order that they might the better overcome the obstacles presented by the narrowness of their fortunes to the prosecution of their studies. It was stipulated that each partner alternately should be allowed to study during the winter at what college he pleased, the other meantime conducting the joint business for the common advantage. Cullen, as the senior partner, had the first winter, and he went to Edinburgh. But next winter Hunter's turn came: he preferred London to Edinburgh, went thither, and did not return to Scotland. His excellence as a dissector, singular dexterity in making anatomical preparations, assiduity in study, and agreeable manners, won him the warm regard of Dr. Douglas, to whom he had an introduction from Foulis the printer; and in two or three years Hunter became a lecturer on anatomy, and laid the foundations of a great fame and fortune. The scientific partnership was of course dissolved by Hunter's success in London; but Cullen freely consented to renounce his claim on his junior, and ever afterwards maintained a very cordial and friendly correspondence with Hunter—though the two friends are believed never afterwards to have seen each other.

THE EXHAUSTIVE BARROW.

Charles II., in his humorous fashion, was wont to say about his chaplain—that distinguished philosopher and divine, Dr. Isaac Barrow—that he was the most unfair preacher in England, because he exhausted every subject, and left no room for others to come after him. This was indeed too much the doctor's characteristic; when he had once got hold of a topic, he knew not how to leave anything unsaid upon it. One of his best discourses, on the duty and reward of bounty to the poor, actually occupied between three and four hours in the delivery. Although, however, his sermons are unusually long, they so abound in matter, that his language sometimes labours in the utterance of his thought; hence his style is at times involved and parenthetical, though passages of sublime and simple eloquence frequently occur. It is related that, in preaching the Spital sermon before the Lord Mayor and Corporation, he consumed three hours and a half. Being asked, after he came down from the pulpit, if he was not tired, he replied, "Yes, indeed, I begin to be weary in standing so long."

A POPULAR PREACHER.

When Father Thomas Conecte, who was afterwards burnt at Rome, preached in the great towns of Flanders and Artois, the churches were so filled that he used to be hoisted in the middle of the church by a cord, in order to be heard!

"ATTERBURY'S PAD."

During the debates on the Occasional Conformity and Schism Bills, in the House of Lords, in December 1718, these measures were very warmly opposed by Atterbury, Bishop of Rochester; who said "he had prophesied last winter that this bill would be attempted in the next session, and he was very sorry to find that he had turned out a true prophet." Lord Coningsby, who always spoke in a passion, rose immediately after Atterbury, and remarked that "one of the right reverends had set himself forth as a prophet; but, for his part, he did not know what prophet to liken him to, unless to that famous prophet Balaam, who was reproved by his own ass." The Bishop, in reply, with great calmness and wit met the attack of Lord Coningsby, thus concluding: "Since the noble Lord has discovered in our manners such a similitude, I am well content to be compared to the prophet Balaam; but, my Lords, I am at a loss to make out the other part of the parallel. I am sure that I have been reproved by nobody but his Lordship." From that day forward, Lord Coningsby was known by the sobriquet of "Atterbury's Pad."

THE FOOT-SCRAPERS REPROVED.

When a preacher was very obnoxious to the students at Cambridge, it was the custom for them to express disapprobation by scraping with their feet on the floor. A very eloquent but intriguing preacher, Dr. James Scott—known as a political partisan by the pamphleteer and newspaper signatures of "Anti-Sejanus" and "Old Slyboots"—being one day saluted thus, signified his intention to preach against the practice of scraping; and fulfilled his promise very shortly afterwards, taking for his text, "Keep thy foot when thou goest to the house of God, and be more ready to hear than to give the sacrifice of fools; for they consider not that they do evil." On the text being read out, the galleries became one scene of confusion and uproar; but Dr. Scott called to the proctors to preserve silence. This being effected, he delivered a discourse so eloquent, as to extort universal approbation, even from those at whom the text was aimed.

A PRESCRIPTION IN DISGUISE.

General D—— was more distinguished for gallantry in the field than for the care he lavished upon his person. Complaining, on a certain occasion, to Chief Justice Bushe, of Ireland, of the sufferings he endured from rheumatism, that learned and humorous judge undertook to prescribe a remedy. "You must desire your servant," he said to the General, "to place every morning by your bedside a tub three-parts filled with warm water. You will then get into the tub, and having previously provided yourself with a pound of yellow soap, you must rub your whole body with it, immersing yourself occasionally in the water, and at the end of a quarter of an hour, the process concludes by wiping yourself dry with towels, and scrubbing your person with a flesh-brush." "Why," said the General, after reflecting for a minute or two, "this seems to be neither more nor less than washing one's self." "Well, I must confess," rejoined the judge, "it is open to that objection."

HOW TO DRESS A CUCUMBER.

Dr. Glynn, of Cambridge, being one day in attendance on a lady, in the quality of her physician, took occasion to lecture her on the impropriety of eating cucumbers, of which she was immoderately fond; and gave her the following humorous receipt for dressing them: "Peel the cucumber with great care; then cut it into very thin slices; pepper and salt it well—and then throw it away."

GILPIN AND THE NORTHUMBRIAN BRAWLERS.

Bernard Gilpin, the great Northern apostle, did not confine his labours to the church of Houghton-le-Spring, of which he was minister; but at his own expense, and with great risk and hardship, visited the then desolate churches of Northumberland once every year, usually about Christmas, to preach the gospel. The Northumbrians about that time retained so much of the customs of our Saxon ancestors, as to decide every dispute by the sword; they even went beyond them, and, not content with a duel, each contending party used to muster what adherents he could, and began a kind of petty war, so that a private grudge would often occasion much bloodshed. In one of his annual tours, Mr. Gilpin found a quarrel of this kind raging at Rothbury. During the first two or three days of his preaching, the contending parties observed some decorum, and never came to church both at the same time. At last, however, they met; one party had come early, and just as Mr. Gilpin began the sermon the other entered. They did not stand long quiet, but, mutually enraged at the sight of each other, began to clash their arms. Awed, however, by the sacredness of the place, the tumult somewhat fell, and Mr. Gilpin could proceed with his sermon. In a short time, however, the combatants anew brandished their weapons, and approached each other. Mr. Gilpin now came down from the pulpit, went between the two parties, and, appealing to the chiefs, stayed the quarrel for the time, though he could not perfectly reconcile them. They promised that until the sermon was over there should be no further disturbance. Mr. Gilpin then remounted the pulpit, and devoted the rest of the time to endeavour to make the combatants ashamed of their behaviour; and his courage and earnestness so much affected them, that at his further entreaty they agreed to abstain from all acts of hostility while he continued in the country. Another time, when he entered the church, Mr. Gilpin saw a glove hanging up, and was told by the sexton that it was as a challenge to any one that should take it down. The sexton refusing to take it down, because he "dared not," Mr. Gilpin procured a long staff, took it down himself, and put it in his breast. When the congregation assembled, he went into the pulpit, and took occasion severely to rebuke these inhuman challenges, and especially this fashion of hanging up the glove in church. "I hear," said he, "that there is one among you who even in this sacred place hath hanged up a glove to this purpose, and threateneth to enter into combat with whosoever shall take it down. Behold, I have taken it down myself!" and, plucking the glove out of his breast, he held it up before them all, and again proceeded to condemn such barbarous fashions, and to commend the practice of love and charity. So much did his faithfulness win for him respect, and soften the stern mood of the country folk, that so often as he came into the parts where he had administered these rebukes, if any man was in fear of a deadly foe, he resorted usually where Mr. Gilpin was, supposing himself to be more safe in his company than under an armed guard.

MASSES TRANSFERRED.

Bernal Diaz relates, that while Cortes was absent on his expedition against Christoval d'Oli, his death was reported by men who assumed the government at Mexico; they ordered ceremonies and masses for his soul, and paid for them with his effects. When he returned in safety, Juan de Caceres, "the rich," bought all these acts of devotion for his own benefit—like some modern buyer of shares, expecting a regular entry of the transfer to be made in the books of the concern in which he invested.

PRECEPT AND EXAMPLE OF ABSTINENCE.

John Wesley having learned that a wealthy tradesman of his neighbourhood indulged to excess in the pleasures of the table, paid him a visit, and, discussing the subject with him, urged every argument and every passage of Scripture he could against the sin of gluttony. Observing the tradesman silent and thoughtful, Wesley flattered himself that he had gained his point and produced the desired reformation. The dinner cloth was by this time spread, and sumptuous elegance decorated the board. Mr. Wesley was asked to dine; and having consented, was thus addressed by his host: "Sir, your conversation has made such an impression on me, that henceforward I shall live only on bread and water; and to show you that I am in good earnest, I will begin immediately." The dinner was then ordered to be removed, and bread and water introduced; to the disappointment of the preacher, who, although an abstemious man, wished for something better than an anchorite's fare.

QUEEN ELIZABETH'S BLOOD JEWELS.

In the Parliamentary History, under date of 1601, the Lord Keeper is reported to say: "I have seen her Majesty wear at her girdle the price of her blood; I mean, jewels which have been given to her physicians to have done that unto her which I hope God will ever keep from her. But she hath rather worn them in triumph, than for the price, which hath not been greatly valuable."

THE POWER OF TAR-WATER.

Doctor Hill, a notorious wit, physician, and man of letters, having quarrelled with the members of the Royal Society, who had refused to admit him as an associate, resolved to avenge himself. At the time that Bishop Berkeley had issued his work on the marvellous virtues of tar-water, Hill addressed to their secretary a letter, purporting to be from a country surgeon, and reciting the particulars of a cure which he had effected. "A sailor," he wrote, "broke his leg, and applied to me for help. I bound together the broken portions, and washed them with the celebrated tar-water. Almost immediately the sailor felt the beneficial effects of this remedy, and it was not long before his leg was completely healed!" The letter was read and discussed at the meetings of the Royal Society, and caused considerable difference of opinion. Papers were written for and against the tar-water and the restored leg, when a second letter arrived from the (pretended) country practitioner: "In my last I omitted to mention that the broken limb of the sailor was a wooden leg!"

THE CURATE AND THE DUKE.

The Duke of Grafton, when hunting, was thrown into a ditch; at the same time a young curate, calling out, "Lie still, your Grace," leaped over him, and pursued his sport. On being assisted to remount by his attendants, the duke said, "That young man shall have the first good living that falls to my disposal; had he stopped to have taken care of me, I never would have patronised him"—being delighted with an ardour similar to his own, and with a spirit that would not stoop to flatter.

A LOYAL AND FATAL PRAYER.

It is related by Thoresby that Mr. John Jackson, a good old Puritan, and a member of the Assembly of Divines at Westminster, "was yet so zealously affected for King Charles I., when he heard of his being brought before a pretended high court of justice, that he prayed earnestly that God would please to prevent that horrid act, which would be a perpetual shame to the nation, and a reproach to the Protestant religion; or, at least, would be pleased to remove him, that he might not see the woful day. His prayer was heard and answered as to himself, for he was buried the week before" the execution of Charles took place.

FLAVEL'S "DAY OF HEAVEN."

This distinguished Nonconformist divine, who lived about the end of the seventeenth century, in his Treatise on the Soul of Man relates of himself—so at least it is understood, though he speaks in the third person—that for a day he was wrapt in such intimate spiritual communion with heaven, as exhausted the powers of physical nature, and for a time appeared to leave him on the brink of the grave. This singular season of trance he used to style "one of the days of heaven;" and he affirmed, that in that time there came to him more insight into the heavenly life, than he had all his days gained from books or sermons.

"Being on a journey, he set himself to improve his time by meditation; when his mind grew intent, till at length he had such ravishing tastes of heavenly joys, and such full assurance of his interest therein, that he utterly lost the sight and sense of this world and all its concerns, so that for hours he knew not where he was. At last, perceiving himself faint through a great loss of blood from his nose, he alighted from his horse, and sat down at a spring, where he washed and refreshed himself, earnestly desiring, if it were the will of God, that he might then leave the world. His spirits reviving, he finished his journey in the same delightful frame. He passed all that night without a wink of sleep, the joy of the Lord still overflowing him, so that he seemed an inhabitant of the other world." It was taken by his religious friends as a special promise of heavenly favour, that at the birth of Flavel a pair of nightingales made their nest close to the chamber of his mother, and welcomed him into the world with their delightful warble.

A ROYAL MEDICINE.

Even so late as the days of Queen Elizabeth, ignorance and superstition continued prime regulating powers in the practice of physic; accomplished as some of the physicians of the day were, it was, as Lord Bacon has affirmed, in every department excepting those that immediately touched their own profession. Sir William Bulleyn was not one of the least prominent and enlightened; but some of the prescriptions which he has left on record, attest a very deplorable state of things, existing little more than half a century before Harvey achieved his great discovery. Take for example this recipe for an

"Electuarium de Gemmis."

"Take two drachms of white perles; two little peeces of saphyre; jacinth, corneline, emerauldes, granettes, of each an ounce; setwal, the sweate roote doronike, the rind of pomecitron, mace, basel seede, of each two drachms; of redde corall, amber, shaving of ivory, of each two drachms; rootes both of white and red behen, ginger, long peper, spicknard, folium indicum, saffron, cardamon, of each one drachm; of troch. diarodon, lignum aloes, of each half a small handful; cinnamon, galinga, zurubeth, which is a kind of setwal, of each one drachm and a half; thin pieces of gold and sylver, of each half a scruple; of musk, half a drachm. Make your electuary with honey emblici, which is the fourth kind of mirobalans with roses, strained in equall partes, as much as will suffice. This healeth cold diseases of ye braine, harte, stomack. It is a medicine proved against the tremblynge of the harte, faynting and souning, the weaknes of the stomacke, pensivenes, solitarines. Kings and noble men have used this for their comfort. It causeth them to be bold-spirited, the body to smell wel, and ingendreth to the face good coloure."

A SIGNIFICANT INTERPOLATION.

The most celebrated wits and bon vivants of the day graced the dinner table of Dr. Kitchener, and inter aliis George Colman, who was an especial favourite. His interpolation of a little monosyllable in a written admonition, which the Doctor caused to be placed on the mantlepiece of the dining parlour, will never be forgotten, and was the origin of such a drinking bout as was seldom permitted under his roof. The caution ran thus: "Come at seven, go at eleven." Colman briefly altered the sense of it; for, upon the Doctor's attention being directed to the card, he read, to his astonishment, "Come at seven, go it at eleven!" which the guests did, and the claret was punished accordingly.

THE SEAMAN-BISHOP.

Dr. Lyons, who was appointed to the Bishopric of Cork, Cloyne, and Ross, towards the end of the reign of Queen Elizabeth, held the See for twenty years, but only preached once—on the death of the Queen. His aversion to preaching is ascribed to the fact that he was not educated for the church. He was, indeed, captain of a ship, and distinguished himself so gallantly in several actions with the Spaniards, that, on his being introduced to the Queen, she told him that he should have the first vacancy that offered. The simple captain understood the Queen literally; and soon after, hearing of a vacancy in the See of Cork, he immediately set out for Court, and claimed the fulfilment of the royal promise. The Queen, astonished at the request, for a time remonstrated against the impropriety of it, and said that she could never think it a suitable office for him. It was, however, in vain; he pleaded the royal promise, and relied on it. The Queen then said she would take a few days to consider the matter; when, examining into his character, and finding that he was a sober, moral man, as well as an intrepid commander, she sent for him, and gave him the Bishopric, saying that she "hoped he would take as good care of the Church, as he had done of the State."

UNPREACHING PRELATES.

The appointment of bishops and other ecclesiastics to lay offices, and more especially to places in the Mint, during the reign of Edward VI., was severely censured from the pulpit by the intrepid and venerable Bishop Latimer. In his "Sermon of the Plough," he says, with equal humour and vigour: "But now for the fault of unpreaching prelates, methinks I could guess what might be said for excusing them. They are so troubled with lordly living, they be so placed in palaces, couched in courts, ruffling in their rents, dancing in their dominions, burdened with embassages, pampering of their paunches, like a monk that maketh his jubilee, munching in their mangers, and moiling in their gay manors and mansions, and so troubled with loitering in their lordships, that they cannot attend it. They are otherwise occupied, some in King's matters, some are ambassadors, some of the Privy Council, some to furnish the Court, some are lords of the Parliament, some are presidents, comptrollers of Mints. Well, well, is this their duty? Is this their office? Is this their calling? Should we have ministers of the Church to be comptrollers of Mints? Is this a meet office for a priest that hath the cure of souls? Is this his charge? I would here ask one question: I would fain know who comptrolleth the devil at home at his parish, while he comptrolleth the Mint? If the apostles might not leave the office of preaching to be deacons, shall one leave it for minting? I cannot tell you; but the saying is, that since priests have been minters, money hath been worse than it was before." In another part of this discourse the Bishop proceeds to ask, "Is there never a nobleman to be a Lord President, but it must be a prelate? Is there never a wise man in the realm to be a comptroller of the Mint? I speak it to your shame, I speak it to your shame. If there be never a wise man, make a water-bearer, a tinker, a cobbler, a slave, a page, the comptrollers of the Mint. Make a mean gentleman, a groom, a yeoman; make a poor beggar, Lord President. Thus I speak, not that I would have it so, but to your shame, if there be never a gentleman meet nor able to be Lord President. For why are not the noblemen and young gentlemen of England so brought up in knowledge of God and in learning, that they might be able to execute offices in the commonweal?"

CHARLES II. AND HIS CHAPLAIN.

Dr. Hickringal, who was one of King Charles the Second's chaplains, whenever he preached before his Majesty, was sure to tell him of his faults from the pulpit. One day his Majesty met the Doctor in the Mall, and said to him, "Doctor, what have I done to you that you are always quarrelling with me?" "I hope your Majesty is not angry with me," quoth the Doctor, "for telling the truth." "No, no," says the king; "but I would have us for the future be friends." "Well, well," quoth the Doctor, "I will make it up with your Majesty on these terms: as you mend I'll mend."

RADCLIFFE'S ENMITY TO HANNES.

John Radcliffe, the eccentric, niggardly, self-indulgent, ill-educated, and intensely Jacobitish physician, who, at the end of the seventeenth century, rose to an eminent place in the capital and at Court, was the son of a comfortable Yorkshire yeoman. He resided for some years at Oxford University, and afterwards practised there; but in 1684 he went up to London, and speedily made himself a great name and income. As, however, at Oxford he had found enemies who, as was the fashion of these days, spoke very openly and bitterly against their rising rival—so was it also in London: Gibbons, Blackmore, and others, were hostile to the new-comer—the first expending his sarcasm on Radcliffe's defects of scholarship. Radcliffe replied, by fixing on Gibbons, as is well known the epithet of "Nurse;" ridiculing his mode of treatment by slops and gruels, and so forth,—Radcliffe's faith being placed in fresh air and exercise, generous nourishment, and the use of cordials. Sir Edward Hannes was, like Radcliffe, an Oxford man; and hence, perhaps, the peculiar jealousy and hatred with which he regarded Radcliffe. Hannes started in London, whither he followed Radcliffe, a splendid carriage and four, that drew upon it the eyes of all the town, and provoked Radcliffe, when told by a friend that the horses were the finest he had ever seen, to the savage reply, "Then he'll be able to sell them for all the more!" Hannes employed a stratagem that, in sundry shapes, has since been not quite unfamiliar in medical practice. He instructed his livery servants to run about the streets, and, putting their heads into every coach they met, to inquire in tones of anxiety and alarm, whether Dr. Hannes was there. Once one of these servants entered on this advertising errand Garraway's Coffeehouse, in Exchange Alley—a great resort of the medical profession; and called out, all breathless with haste, "Gentlemen, can any of your honours tell me if Dr. Hannes is here?" "Who wants Dr. Hannes, fellow?" asked Radcliffe, who was in the room. "Lord A——, and Lord B——," was the assurance of the servant. "No, no, my man," said Radcliffe, in a voice deliberate and full of enjoyment of the irony; "no, no, you are mistaken; it isn't the Lords that want your master, but he that wants them." Hannes was reputed the son of a basket-maker; Blackmore had been a schoolmaster—circumstances which furnished Radcliffe with material for a savage attack on both, when called in to attend the young Duke of Gloucester, for whom they had prescribed until the illness took a fatal turn. He accused them to their faces, and with no particular gentleness of language, for having abominably mismanaged a mere attack of rash; and said, "It would have been happy for this nation had you, Sir, been bred up a basket-maker, and you, Sir, remained a country schoolmaster, rather than have ventured out of your reach, in the practice of an art to which you are an utter stranger, and for your blunders in which you ought to be whipped with one of your own rods."

MATHEWS OH HIS DEATHBED.

A friend attending on Charles Mathews the Elder, the celebrated comedian, in his last illness, intending to give him his medicine, gave in mistake some ink from a phial on a shelf. On discovering the error, his friend exclaimed, "Good heavens! Mathews, I have given you ink." "Never—never mind, my boy—never mind," said Mathews, faintly, "I'll swallow a bit of blotting-paper."

BISHOP BERKELEY'S BERMUDA SCHEME.

Dr. George Berkeley, the Bishop of Cloyne—celebrated for his ideal theory, and by the praise of Pope, his stedfast friend, who ascribes "to Berkeley every virtue under heaven," as others ascribed to him all learning—in 1824 conceived and published his benevolent proposal for converting the American savages to Christianity, by means of a colony to be established in the Bermudas. The proposal was published in 1723, the year after he had been appointed Dean of Derry; and he offered to resign that opulent preferment, worth £1100 a year, and to dedicate the remainder of his life to the instruction of the Indians, on the moderate allowance of £100 a-year. The project was very favourably received, and persons of the highest rank raised considerable sums by subscription in aid of it. Berkeley having resigned his preferment, set sail for Rhode Island, to make arrangements for carrying out his views. Such was the influence of his distinguished example, that three of the junior Fellows of Trinity College, Dublin, abandoned with him all their flattering prospects in life in their own country, for a settlement in the Atlantic Ocean at £40 a-year. The Dean, not meeting with the support the ministry had promised him, and after spending nearly all his private property and seven of the best years of his life in the prosecution of his scheme, returned to Europe. This, however, he did not do, until the Bishop of London had informed him, that on application for funds to Sir Robert Walpole, he had received the following honest answer: "If you put this question to me as a minister, I must and I can assure you, that the money shall most undoubtedly be paid as soon as suits with the public convenience; but if you ask me as a friend, whether Dean Berkeley should continue in America, expecting the payment of £10,000, advise him, by all means, to return home to Europe, and give up his present expectations."

A HOME-THRUST AT STERNE.

Sterne, the reverend author of the Sentimental Journey, had the credit of treating his wife very ill. He was one day talking to Garrick, in a fine sentimental strain, in laudation of conjugal love and fidelity. "The husband," said he, "who behaves unkindly to his wife, deserves to have his house burnt over his head." "If you think so," replied Garrick, "I hope your house is insured."

THE GOSPEL A NOVELTY.

When Le Torneau preached the Lent sermon at St. Benoit, at Paris, Louis XIV. inquired of Boileau, "if he knew anything of a preacher called Le Tourneau, whom everybody was running after?" "Sire," replied the poet, "your Majesty knows that people always run after novelties; this man preaches the gospel." The King pressing him to speak seriously, Boileau added: "When M. Le Tourneau first ascends the pulpit, his ugliness so disgusts the congregation that they wish he would go down again; but when he begins to speak, they dread the time of his descending." Boileau's remark as to the "novelty" of preaching the gospel in his time, brings to mind the candid confession of a Flemish preacher, who, in a sermon delivered before an audience wholly of his own order, said: "We are worse than Judas; he sold and delivered his Master; we sell Him too, but deliver Him not." Somewhat akin was the remark, in an earlier age, of Father Fulgentio, the friend and biographer of Paul Sarpi, and, like him, a secret friend to the progress of religious reformation. Preaching on Pilate's question, "What is truth?" he told the audience that he had at last, after many searches, found it out; and, holding forth the New Testament, said, "Here it is, my friends; but," he added sorrowfully, as he returned it to his pocket, "it is a sealed book."

HARVEY AND THE CIRCULATION OF THE BLOOD.

The discovery of the circulation of the blood was the most important ever made in the science of physiology, and led to a complete revolution throughout the whole circle of medical knowledge and practice. The renown of this splendid discovery, by all but universal consent, has been attributed to William Harvey, an English physician, who was born at Folkestone in 1578, and in 1593 went to Caius College, Cambridge, where he remained four years. He then went abroad for several years, studying in the most famous medical schools; and in 1604, having passed M.D. at Cambridge, he set up in practice in London. In 1615 he was appointed Lecturer at the College of Physicians, on Anatomy and Surgery; and it was in the performance of these duties that he arrived at the important discovery that is inseparably associated with his name. "The merit of Harvey," it has been justly observed, "is enhanced by considering the degraded state of medical knowledge at that time in England. While anatomical schools had been long established in Italy, France, and Germany, and several teachers had rendered their names illustrious by the successful pursuit of the science, anatomy was still unknown in England, and dissection had hitherto hardly begun; yet at this inauspicious period did Harvey make a discovery, which amply justifies Haller in ranking him as only second to Hippocrates." In 1620 he promulgated his new doctrine of the circulation of the blood, in a treatise entitled Exercitatio Anatomica de Motu Cordis et Sanguinis in Animalibus; in the preface to which, addressed to the College of Physicians, he states that frequently in his lectures he had declared his opinion touching the motion of the heart and the circulation of the blood, and had for more than nine years confirmed and illustrated that discovery by reasons and arguments grounded on ocular demonstration. The attention of all Europe, and the keen opposition of many of its medical scholars, were at once aroused by Harvey's publication; but his doctrine triumphed over all objections, and before he died he had the happiness of seeing it fully established. Harvey was physician to James I. and Charles I., the latter of whom had a high regard for him; and at the outbreak of the civil war he adhered to the royal side, and quitted London with the king, attending him at the battle of Edgehill, and afterwards at Oxford. He died in 1658, it is said from the effects of opium which he had taken with suicidal intent, while suffering under the acute pangs of gout. Posterity has been more faithful and grateful than his own age to the greatest modern discoverer in medical science; for his discovery rather tended to push him back than to advance him in professional position. It has been said that "perhaps his researches took him out of the common road to popular eminence, and they seem to have exposed him to the prejudice so commonly prevailing against an innovator; for we find him complaining to a friend, that his practice considerably declined after the publication of his discovery."

SUNDAY SPORTS.

Rushworth relates that King James, in 1618, in his Declaration concerning Lawful Sports, said that in his progress through Lancashire he did justly rebuke some Puritans and precise people for the prohibiting and unlawful punishment of his good people for using their lawful recreations and honest exercises upon Sundays and other holidays, after the afternoon sermon or service. "With his own ears he heard the general complaint of his people, that they were barred from all lawful recreations and exercise upon the Sundays after noon;" which must produce two great evils,—the first, the hindering the conversion of many whom the clergy caused to believe that religion, and honest mirth and recreation, were incompatible. "The other inconvenience is, that this prohibition barreth the common and meaner sort of people from using such exercises as may make their bodies more able for war when his Majesty, or his successors, shall have occasion to use them; and in place thereof, sets up tippling and filthy drunkenness, and breeds a number of idle and discontented speeches in alehouses. For when shall the common people have leave to exercise, if not upon the Sundays and holidays, seeing they must apply their labour, and win their living, on all working days? Therefore, the King said, his express pleasure was that no lawful recreation should be barred to his good people which did not tend to the breach of the laws of this kingdom and the canons of the Church: that after the end of divine service his people be not disturbed, letted, or discouraged from any lawful recreation, such as dancing, either men or women; archery for men, leaping, vaulting, or any other such harmless recreation; nor from having of May-games, Whitson-ales, and Morice-dances; and the setting up of Maypoles, and other sports therewith used, so as the same be had in due and convenient time, without impediment or neglect of divine service. And that women should have leave to carry rushes to the church for the decoring of it, according to their old custom." But bull and bear baiting, "interludes," and bowling (at all times prohibited to the meaner sort), were forbidden; all known recusants who abstained from coming to service were barred the liberty of recreation, "being unworthy of any lawful recreation after the service, that would not first come to the church and serve God;" as were also all who, though conforming in religion, had not been present in church. Each person was to go to church, and join the sports, in his own parish; and no weapons of offence were to be carried or used.

Charles I., in 1633, gave command for the reading of the Book of Sports in the churches, which had not been done even by his father, and which gave great offence and stirred up much display of bad feeling. In London, after the reading, one clergyman went on immediately to read the Ten Commandments, and said, "Dearly beloved brethren, you have now heard the commandments of God and man; obey which you please." Another minister followed up the reading of the obnoxious ordinance by the delivery of a sermon on the Fourth Commandment.

THE SAINT'S BELL.

In their description of Westmoreland, Nicholson and Burn relate, that "in the old church at Ravenstonedale there was a small bell, called the Saint's Bell, which was wont to be rung after the Nicene creed, to call in the Dissenters to sermon. And to this day the Dissenters, besides frequenting the meeting-house, oftentimes attend the sermon in church."

SIR RICHARD JEBB.

Sir Richard Jebb, the famous physician, who was very rough and harsh in his manner, once observed to a patient to whom he had been extremely rude, "Sir, it is my way." "Then," returned his indignant patient, pointing to the door, "I beg you will make that your way!" Sir Richard being called to see a patient who fancied himself very ill, told him ingenuously what he thought, and declined prescribing for him. "Now you are here," said the patient, "I shall be obliged to you, Sir Richard, if you will tell me how I must live—what I may eat, and what I may not." "My directions as to that point," replied Sir Richard, "will be few and simple! You must not eat the poker, shovel, or tongs, for they are hard of digestion; nor the bellows, because they are windy; but eat anything else you please!"

A SANITARY VIEW OF BAPTISM.

Crosby's History of the English Baptists preserves the opinion of Sir John Floyer, the physician, that immersion at baptism was of great value in a sanitary point of view, and that its discontinuance, about the year 1600, had been attended with ill effects on the physical condition of the population. Dealing with the question purely in a professional sense, he declared his belief that the English would return to the practice of immersion, when the medical faculty or the science of physic had plainly proved to them by experiment the safety and utility of cold bathing. "They did great injury to their own children and all posterity, who first introduced the alteration of this truly ancient ceremony of immersion, and were the occasion of a degenerate, sickly, tender race ever since. Instead of prejudicing the health of their children, immersion would prevent many hereditary diseases if it were still practised." He tells, in support of his belief, that he had been assured by a man, eighty years old, whose father lived while immersion was still the practice, that parents at the baptism would ask the priest to dip well in the water that part of the child in which any disease used to afflict themselves, to prevent its descending to their posterity. And it had long been a proverbial saying among old people, if any one complained of pain in their limbs, that "surely that limb had not been dipt in the font." Immersion, however, was far otherwise regarded in quarters where professional animus of another kind militated against its revival by the powerful dissenting body of the Baptists. Baxter vehemently and exaggeratedly denounced it as a breach of the Sixth Commandment, which says, "Thou shalt not kill;" and called on the civil magistrate to interfere for its prevention, to save the lives of the lieges. "Covetous physicians," he thought, should not be much against the Anabaptists; for "catarrhs and obstructions, which are the two great fountains of most mortal diseases in man's body, could scarce have a more notable means to produce them where they are not, or to increase them where they are. Apoplexies, lethargies, palsies, and all comatous diseases, would be promoted by it"—and then comes a long string of terrible maladies that would follow on the dipping. "In a word, it is good for nothing but to despatch men out of the world that are troublesome, and to ranken churchyards." Again: "If murder be a sin, then dipping ordinarily in cold water over head in England is a sin. And if those that would make it men's religion to murder themselves, and urge it on their consciences as their duty, are not to be suffered in a commonwealth, any more than highway murderers; then judge how these Anabaptists, that teach the necessity of such dippings, are to be suffered." Had Baxter lived in these cold water days, tubbing would probably have taught him a little more toleration.

BISHOP KENNET ON LATE REPENTANCE.

Doctor, afterwards Bishop, Kennet preached the funeral sermon of the first Duke of Devonshire in 1707. The sentiments of the sermon gave much umbrage; people complained that the preacher "had built a bridge to heaven for men of wit and parts, but excluded the duller part of mankind from any chance of passing it." The complaint was founded on this passage, in speaking of a late repentance: "This rarely happens but in men of distinguished sense and judgment. Ordinary abilities may be altogether sunk by a long vicious course of life; the duller flame is easily extinguished. The meaner sinful wretches are commonly given up to a reprobate mind, and die as stupidly as they lived; while the nobler and brighter parts have an advantage of understanding the worth of their souls before they resign them. If they are allowed the benefit of sickness, they commonly awake out of their dream of sin, and reflect, and look upwards. They acknowledge an infinite being; they feel their own immortal part; they recollect and relish the Holy Scriptures; they call for the elders of the church; they think what to answer at a judgment-seat. Not that God is a respecter of persons; but the difference is in men; and the more intelligent the nature is, the more susceptible of divine grace." The successor to the deceased Duke did not think ill of the sermon; and recommended Kennet to the Deanery of Peterborough, which he obtained in 1707.

A MAL APROPOS QUOTATION.

In one of the debates in the House of Lords, on the war with France in 1794, a speaker quoted the following lines from Bishop Porteous' Poem on War:—

The Bishop, who was present, and who generally voted with the Ministry, was asked by an independent nobleman, if he were really the author of the lines that had been quoted. The Bishop replied, "Yes, my Lord; but—they were not composed for the present war."

CHARLES II. ON SERMON-READING.

The practice of reading sermons, now so prevalent, was reproved by Charles II., in the following ordinance on the subject, issued by the Chancellor of the University of Cambridge:—

"Vice-Chancellor and Gentlemen,—Whereas his Majesty is informed, that the practice of reading sermons is generally taken up by the preachers before the University, and therefore continues even before himself; his Majesty hath commanded me to signify to you his pleasure, that the said practice, which took its beginning from the disorders of the late times, be wholly laid aside; and that the said preachers deliver their sermons, both in Latin and English, by memory without book; as being a way of preaching which his Majesty judgeth most agreeable to the use of foreign Churches, to the custom of the University heretofore, and to the nature of that holy exercise. And that his Majesty's command in these premises may be duly regarded and observed, his further pleasure is, that the names of all such ecclesiastical persons as shall continue the present supine and slothful way of preaching, be from time to time signified to me by the Vice-Chancellor for the time being, on pain of his Majesty's displeasure. October 8, 1674.

"Monmouth."

SOUTH ON THE COMMONWEALTH PREACHERS.

Dr. South, in one of his sermons, thus reflected on the untrained and fanatical preachers of the time of the Commonwealth—many of whom but too well deserved the strictures:—"It may not be amiss to take occasion to utter a great truth, as both worthy to be now considered, and never to be forgot,—namely, that if we reflect upon the late times of confusion which passed upon the ministry, we shall find that the grand design of the fanatic crew was to persuade the world that a standing settled ministry was wholly useless. This, I say, was the main point which they then drove at. And the great engine to effect this was by engaging men of several callings (and those the meaner still the better) to hold forth and harangue the multitude, sometimes in the streets, sometimes in churches, sometimes in barns, and sometimes from pulpits, and sometimes from tubs, and, in a word, wheresoever and howsoever they could clock the senseless and unthinking babble about them. And with this practice well followed, they (and their friends the Jesuits) concluded, that in some time it would be no hard matter to persuade the people, that if men of other professions were able to teach and preach the word, then to what purpose should there be a company of men brought up to it and maintained in it at the charge of a public allowance? especially when at the same time the truly godly so greedily gaped and grasped at it for their self-denying selves. So that preaching, we see, was their prime engine. But now what was it, which encouraged those men to set up for a work, which (if duly managed) was so difficult in itself, and which they were never bred to? Why, no doubt it was, that low, cheap, illiterate way, then commonly used, and cried up for the only gospel soul-searching way (as the word then went), and which the craftier set of them saw well enough, that with a little exercise and much confidence, they might in a short time come to equal, if not exceed; as it cannot be denied, but that some few of them (with the help of a few friends in masquerade) accordingly did. But, on the contrary, had preaching been made and reckoned a matter of solid and true learning, of theological knowledge and long and severe study (as the nature of it required it to be), assuredly no preaching cobbler amongst them all would ever have ventured so far beyond his last, as to undertake it. And consequently this their most powerful engine for supplanting the church and clergy had never been attempted, nor perhaps so much as thought on; and therefore of most singular benefit, no question, would it be to the public, if those who have authority to second their advice, would counsel the ignorant and the forward to consider what divinity is, and what they themselves are, and so to put up their preaching tools, their Medulla's note-books, their melleficiums, concordances, and all, and betake themselves to some useful trade, which nature had most particularly fitted them for."

PETER THE GREAT AS DENTIST.

The Czar Peter, impelled by natural curiosity and love of science, was very fond of witnessing dissections and operations. He first made these known in Russia, and gave orders to be informed when anything of the kind was going on at the hospitals, that he might, if possible, be present to gratify his love for such spectacles. He frequently aided the operator, and was able to dissect properly, to bleed, draw teeth, and perform other operations as well as one of the faculty. Along with a case of mathematical instruments, he always carried about with him a pouch furnished with surgical instruments. The wife of one of his valets had once a disagreeable experience of his skill. She was suspected of gallantry, and her husband vowed revenge. He sat in the ante-chamber with a sad and pensive face, provoking the Czar to inquire the occasion of his gloom. The valet said that nothing was wrong, except that his wife refused to have a tooth drawn that caused her great pain. The Czar desired that he should be allowed to cure her, and was at once taken to her apartment, where he made her sit down that he might examine her mouth, in spite of her earnest protestations that she had no toothache. The husband, however, alleging that she always said so when the physician was present, and renewed her lamentations when he departed, the Czar ordered him to hold her head and arms; and, pulling forth his instruments, promptly extracted the tooth which he supposed to be the cause of the pain, disregarding the piteous cries of the persecuted lady. But in a few days the Czar learned that the whole affair was a trick of the valet to torment his wife; and his Majesty thereupon, as his manner was, administered to him a very severe chastisement with his own hands.

A MILD CRITICISM.

While Sir Busick Harwood was Professor of Anatomy at Cambridge, he was called in, in a case of some difficulty, by the friends of a patient, who were anxious for his opinion of the malady. Being told the name of the medical man who had previously prescribed, Sir Busick exclaimed, "He! if he were to descend into the patient's stomach with a candle and lantern, when he ascended he would not be able to name the complaint!"

HOUR-GLASSES IN CHURCH.

To restrain over-eloquent or over-zealous preachers in the length of their discourses, hour-glasses were introduced in churches about the period of the Reformation. In the frontispiece prefixed to the Bible of the Bishops' Translation, printed in 1569, Archbishop Parker is represented with an hour-glass standing on his right hand. Clocks and watches being then but rarely in use, the hour-glass was had recourse to as the only convenient public remembrancer which the state of the arts could then supply. The practice of using them became generally prevalent, and continued till the period of the Revolution. The hour-glass was placed either on the side of the pulpit, or on a stand in front. "One whole houre-glasse," "one halfe houre-glasse," occur in an inventory taken about 1632 of the properties of the church of All Saints at Newcastle-on-Tyne. Daniel Burgess, a Nonconformist preacher at the commencement of last century, alike famous for the length of his pulpit harangues and the quaintness of his illustrations, was once vehemently declaiming against the sin of drunkenness. Having exhausted the customary time, he turned the hour-glass, and said, "Brethren, I have somewhat more to say on the nature and consequences of drunkenness; so let's have the other glass and then—" The jest, however, seems to have been borrowed from the frontispiece of a small book, entitled England's Shame, or a Relation of the Life and Death of Hugh Peters, published in 1663; where Peters is represented preaching, and holding an hour-glass in his left hand, in the act of saying, "I know you are good fellows; so let's have another glass."

THE METHODIST DOG.

In the early days of Methodism, meetings for preaching and prayer were held regularly about Bristol, and usually well attended. The people who had frequented these meetings had repeatedly observed a dog that came from a distance; and as at the house to which he belonged the Methodists were not respected, he always came alone. At that time, the preaching on Sunday began immediately after the church service ended; and this singular animal, invariably attending on those occasions, received the name of the "Methodist Dog." He was generally met by the congregation returning from the church, and abused and pelted by the boys belonging to that party. His regular attendance had often been the subject of public debate; and, merely to prove the sagacity of the animal, the meeting, for one evening, was removed to another house. Surprising as it may seem, at the proper and exact time he made his appearance. A few weeks after, his owner returning intoxicated from Leeds market, was drowned in a narrow shallow stream; and from that day the "Methodist Dog" ceased to attend the preaching. Concerning this odd fact, a good Methodist (John Nelson) used to say, "The frequent attendance of this dog at the meeting was designed to attract his master's curiosity, and engage him thereby to visit the place; where, hearing the gospel, he might have been enlightened, converted, and eternally saved. But the end to be answered being frustrated by the master's death, the means to secure it were no longer needful on the dog's part."

THE TWO GATES OF HEAVEN.

"God," says St. Pierre, in his Harmonies of Nature, "God has placed upon earth two gates that lead to heaven; He has set them at the two extremities of life—one at the entrance, the other at the issue. The first is that of innocence; the second, that of repentance."

GIBBON'S RETORT ON THE PHYSICIAN.

A good story of Gibbon the historian is told in Moore's Memoirs. Gibbon and an eminent French physician were rivals in courting the favour of Lady Elizabeth Foster. Impatient at Gibbon's occupying so much of her attention by his conversation, the doctor said crossly to him, "Quand milady Elizabeth Foster sera malade de vos fadaises, je la guérirai." [When my Lady Elizabeth Foster is made ill by your twaddle, I will cure her.] On which Gibbon, drawing himself up grandly, and looking disdainfully at the physician, replied, "Quand milady Elizabeth Foster sera morte de vos recettes, je l'immortaliserai." [When my Lady Elizabeth Foster is dead from your prescriptions, I will immortalize her.]

TRUMP CARDS.

Mrs. Bray relates the following instance of the power of a ruling passion or habit, concerning a Devonshire physician, boasting the not untradesmanlike name of Vial, who was a desperate lover of whist. One evening, in the midst of a deal, the doctor fell off his chair in a fit. Consternation seized on the company, who knew not whether he was alive or dead. At length he showed signs of returning life; and, retaining the last fond idea that had possessed him at the moment he fell into the fit, he exclaimed, "What is trumps?" A bon-vivant, brought to his deathbed by an immoderate use of wine, after having been told that he could not in all human probability survive many hours, and would die before eight o'clock next morning, summoned the small remnants of his strength to call the doctor back, and said, with the true recklessness of a gambler, "Doctor, I'll bet you a bottle that I live till nine!"

PERSUASIVENESS OF WHITFIELD.

Benjamin Franklin, in his memoirs, bears witness to the extraordinary effect that was produced by Whitfield's preaching in America, and tells an anecdote equally characteristic of the preacher and of himself. "I happened," says Franklin, "to attend one of his sermons, in the course of which I perceived that he intended to finish with a collection, and I silently resolved he should get nothing from me. I had in my pocket a handful of copper money, three or four silver dollars, and five pistoles in gold. As he proceeded, I began to soften, and concluded to give the copper. Another stroke of his oratory made me ashamed of that, and determined me to give the silver; and he finished so admirably, that I emptied my pocket wholly into the collector's dish, gold and all. At this sermon there was also one of our club, who, being of my sentiments regarding the building in Georgia (the subject of Whitfield's appeal), and suspecting a collection might be intended, had by precaution emptied his pockets before he came from home. Towards the conclusion of the discourse, however, he felt a strong inclination to give, and applied to a neighbour who stood near him to lend him some money for the purpose. The request was fortunately made to perhaps the only man in the company who had the firmness not to be affected by the preacher. His answer was: 'At any other time, friend Hodgkinson, I would lend to thee freely; but not now, for thee seems to be out of thy right senses.'"

"PREACHING FOR A CROWN."

Howell Davies, who was Whitfield's Welsh coadjutor, walking one Sunday morning to preach, was accosted by a clergyman on horseback, who was bound on the same errand, and who complained of the unprofitable drudgery of his profession, saying that he could never get more than half-a-guinea for preaching. The Welshman replied that he for his part was content to preach for a crown. This so offended the mounted priest, that he upbraided the pedestrian for disgracing his cloth. "Perhaps," said Davies, "you will hold me still cheaper when I inform you that I am going nine miles to preach, and have only seven-pence in my pocket to bear my expenses out and in. But the crown for which I preach is a crown of glory."

SHEDDING HIS BLOOD FOR HIS COUNTRY.

Lord Radnor, who lived in the middle of last century, had a singular liking for the amateur employment of the lancet on the veins of his friends, or of persons whom he induced by gifts of money to allow him to display his skill upon them. It is told of Lord Chesterfield, that, desiring the vote of Lord Radnor in some division impending in the House of Lords, he went to him, and by and by, in the course of indifferent conversation, complained that he was suffering from a bad headache. Lord Radnor leaped at the opportunity of indulging his predilection for phlebotomy on such a corpus nobile; he told Lord Chesterfield that he ought to lose blood at once. "Do you indeed think so, my dear Lord? Then do me the favour to add to the service of your advice that of your skill. I know that you are a clever surgeon." In a moment Lord Radnor had pulled out his lancet case, and opened a vein in his visitor's arm; who subsequently, when the bandage was being put on, as if casually, asked the operator, "By the by, does your Lordship go down to the House to-day?" Lord Radnor answered that he had not intended going, not having information enough as to the question that was to be debated; "But on what side will you, that have considered the matter, vote?" Lord Chesterfield stated his views to his amateur surgeon, whose vanity he had so cleverly flattered; and left the house with the promise of Lord Radnor's vote—having literally, as he told an intensely amused party of his friends the same evening, "shed his blood for the good of his country."

DR. KIRWAN, DEAN OF KILLALA.

Towards the end of last century, there arose in Ireland an eminent preacher, who, to use the emphatic language of Grattan, "broke through the slumbers of the pulpit." This was Walter Blake Kirwan, originally a Catholic priest and Professor of Philosophy at Louvain, and afterwards chaplain to the Neapolitan embassy at London. In 1787 he resolved to conform to the Establishment, and preached for the first time to a Protestant congregation in St. Peter's Church at Dublin. He subsequently became Prebend of Howth, Rector of St. Nicholas, Dublin, and ultimately Dean of Killala. Wonders have been recorded of his attractiveness as a preacher. That he was a great orator, the manner in which he was attended abundantly proved. People crowded to hear him, who on no other occasion appeared within the walls of a church: men of the world, who had other pursuits, men of professions, physicians, lawyers, actors—in short, all to whom clergymen of the highest order had any charms. The pressure of the crowds was immense; guards were obliged to be stationed, and even palisades erected, to keep off from the largest churches the overflowing curiosity, which could not contribute adequately to the great charities for which he generally preached. The sums collected on these occasions exceeded anything ever before known. In one instance, such was the magical impression he produced, that many persons, ladies particularly, after contributing all the money they had about them, threw their watches, rings, and other valuable ornaments into the plate, and next day redeemed them with money. The produce of this triumph of pulpit oratory was indeed magnificent; it was no less than £1200—a much larger sum at that day than the figures represent in ours. Worn out by his labours, Dr. Kirwan died in 1805; and a book of sermons printed in 1814 is his sole literary memorial.

JEREMY TAYLOR.

Jeremy Taylor, Bishop of Down, from the fertility of his mind and the extent of his imagination, has been styled "the Shakespeare of English divines." His sermons abound with some of the most brilliant passages; and embrace such a variety of matter, and such a mass of knowledge and of learning, that even the acute Bishop Warburton said of him: "I can fathom the understandings of most men, yet I am not certain that I can fathom the understanding of Jeremy Taylor." His comparison between a married and a single life, in his sermon on the Blessedness of Marriage, is rich in tender sentiments and exquisitely elegant imagery. "Marriage," says the Bishop, "is the mother of the world, and preserves kingdoms, and fills cities, churches, and even heaven itself. Celibacy, like the fly in the heart of an apple, dwells in a perpetual sweetness; yet sits alone, and is confined, and dies in singularity. But marriage, like the useful bee, builds a house, and gathers sweetness from every flower, and labours and unites into societies and republics, and sends out colonies, and fills the world with delicacies, and obeys the king, keeps order, and exercises many virtues, and promotes the interest of mankind; and is that state of things to which God hath designed the present constitution of the world. Marriage hath in it the labour of love, and the delicacies of friendship; the blessings of society, and the union of hands and hearts. It hath in it less of beauty, but more of safety, than a single life; it is more merry and more sad; is fuller of joy and fuller of sorrow; it lies under more burthens, but is supported by the strength of love and charity; and these burthens are delightful."

A TWO-EDGED ACCUSATION.

Dr. Freind, like too many of the physicians of his time—under Queen Anne—was not very careful to keep his head clear and hand steady by moderation in tavern potations; and more often than not he was tipsy when he visited his patients. Once he entered the chamber of a lady of high rank in such a state of intoxicated confusion, that he could do nothing more than mutter to himself, "Drunk—drunk—drunk, by ——!" Happily, or unhappily, the lady, from the same cause, was not in any better case than the physician; and when she came to herself, she was informed by her maid that the doctor had briefly and gruffly described her condition, and then abruptly taken his leave. Freind next day was puzzling as to the apology he should offer to his patient for his unfitness to deal with her ailment, when to his great joy there came a note from the lady, enclosing a handsome fee, and entreating him to keep his own counsel as to what he had seen.

RADCLIFFE AND KNELLER.

Sir Godfrey Kneller and Dr. Radcliffe lived next door to each other in Bow Street, just after the latter had come up to town, and were extremely intimate. Kneller had a very fine garden, and as the doctor was fond of flowers, he permitted him to have a door into it. Radcliffe's servants, however, gathering and destroying the flowers, Kneller sent to inform him that he would nail up the door; to which Radcliffe, in his rough manner, replied, "Tell him he may do anything but paint it."—"Well," retorted Kneller, "he may say what he will; for tell him, I will take anything from him, except physic."

SLAPS FOR SLEEPERS IN CHURCH.

A Methodist preacher once, observing that several of his congregation had fallen asleep, exclaimed with a loud voice, "A fire! a fire!" "Where? where?" cried his auditors, whom the alarm had thoroughly aroused from their slumbers. "In the place of judgment," said the preacher, "for those who sleep under the ministry of the holy gospel." Another preacher, of a different persuasion, more remarkable for drowsy hearers, finding himself in a like unpleasant situation with his auditory, or rather dormitory, suddenly stopped in his discourse, and, addressing himself in a whispering tone to a number of noisy children in the gallery, said, "Silence! silence! children; if you keep up such a noise, you will waken all the old folks below." Dr. South, chaplain of Charles II., once when preaching before the Court—then composed, as every one knows, of the most profligate and dissolute men in the nation—saw, in the middle of his discourse, that sleep had gradually made a conquest of his hearers. He immediately stopped short, and, changing his tone, called out to Lord Lauderdale three times. His Lordship standing up, Dr. South said, with great composure, "My Lord, I am sorry to interrupt your repose; but I must beg of you that you will not snore quite so loud, lest you awaken his Majesty."

Lassenius, chaplain to the Danish Court in the end of the seventeenth century, for a long time, to his vexation, had seen that during his sermon the greater part of the congregation fell asleep. One day he suddenly stopped, and, pulling shuttlecock and battledore from his pocket, began to play with them in the pulpit. This odd behaviour naturally attracted the attention of the hearers who were still awake; they jogged the sleepers, and in a very short time everybody was lively, and looking to the pulpit with the greatest astonishment. Then Lassenius began a very severe castigatory discourse, saying, "When I announce to you sacred and important truths, you are not ashamed to go to sleep; but when I play the fool, you are all eye and ear."

When Fenelon, as almoner, attended Louis XIV. to a sermon preached by a Capuchin, he fell asleep. The Capuchin perceived it, and breaking off his discourse, cried out, "Awake that sleeping Abbé, who comes here only to pay his court to the King;" a reproof which Fenelon himself often related with pleasure after he became Archbishop of Cambray.

A PRESCRIPTION FOR LONG LIFE.

In the reign of Francis I. of France, the saying went—

which we thus translate—

ABERNETHY AND THE DUKE OF YORK.

The Duke of York once consulted Abernethy. During the time his Highness was in the room, the doctor stood before him with his hands in his pockets, waiting to be addressed, and whistling with great coolness. The Duke, naturally astonished at his conduct, said, "I suppose you know who I am?"—"Suppose I do; what of that? If your Highness of York wishes to be well, let me tell you," added the surgeon, "you must do as the Duke of Wellington often did in his campaigns,—cut off the supplies, and the enemy will quickly leave the citadel."

AN UNLUCKY COINCIDENCE.

Dean Ramsay "remembers in the parish church of Fettercairn, though it must be sixty years ago, a custom, still lingering in some parts of the country, of the precentor reading out each single line before it was sung by the congregation. This practice gave rise to a somewhat unlucky introduction of a line from the first Psalm. In most churches in Scotland the communion tables are placed in the centre of the church. After sermon and prayer, the seats round these tables are occupied by the communicants while a psalm is being sung. One communion Sunday, the precentor observed the noble family of Eglantine approaching the tables, and likely to be kept out by those who pressed in before them. Being very zealous for their accommodation, he called out to an individual whom he considered to be the principal obstacle in clearing the passage, 'Come back, Jock, and let in the noble family of Eglantine;' and then, turning to his psalm-book, he took up his duty, and went on to read the line, 'Nor stand in sinners' way.'"

LICENSED LAY PREACHING.

In 1555, Mr. Tavernier, of Bresley, in Norfolk, had a special licence signed by Edward VI., authorizing him to preach in any part of his Majesty's dominions, though he was a layman; and he is said to have preached before the King at court, wearing a velvet bonnet or round cap, a damask gown, and a gold chain about his neck. In the reign of Mary he appeared in the pulpit of St. Mary's at Oxford, with a sword by his side and a gold chain about his neck, and preached to the scholars, opening his discourse in this wise: "Arriving at the mount of St. Mary's, in the stony stage where I now stand, I have brought you some fine biscuits, baked in the oven of charity, carefully conserved for the chickens of the church." This sort of style, especially the alliteration, was much admired in those days, even by the most accomplished scholars; and was long afterwards in high favour both with speakers and hearers. At the time Mr. Tavernier first received commission as a preacher, good preaching was so very scarce, that not only the King's chaplains were obliged to make circuits round the country to instruct the people, and to fortify them against Popery, but even laymen, who were scholars, were, as we have seen, employed for that purpose.

DR. BARROW'S RHYMES WITH REASON.

In the days of Charles II., candidates for holy orders were expected to respond in Latin to the various interrogatories put to them by the bishop or his examining chaplain. When the celebrated Barrow (who was fellow of Trinity College, and tutor to the immortal Newton) had taken his bachelor's degree, he presented himself before the bishop's chaplain, who, with the stiff stern visage of the times, said to Barrow—

answered Barrow with the utmost promptitude. The chaplain, a little annoyed at Barrow's laconic answer, continued—

replied the young candidate in the same breath.

was the next question.

was again the prompt reply of Barrow, blending truth and rhyme with a precision that staggered the reverend examiner, who went direct to the bishop and told him that a young Cantab had thought proper to give rhyming answers to three several moral questions, and added that he believed his name was Isaac Barrow, of Trinity College, Cambridge. "Barrow! Barrow!" said the bishop, who well knew the literary and moral worth of the young bachelor; "if that's the case, ask him no more questions, for he is much better qualified to examine us than we are to examine him." Barrow received his letters of orders forthwith.

HOW TO BE KEPT IN HEALTH.

Sir G. Staunton related a curious anecdote of old Kien Long, Emperor of China. He was inquiring of Sir George the manner in which physicians were paid in England. When, after some difficulty, his Majesty was made to comprehend the system, he exclaimed, "Is any man well in England, that can afford to be ill? Now, I will inform you," said he, "how I manage my physicians. I have four, to whom the care of my health is committed: a certain weekly salary is allowed them, but the moment I am ill, the salary stops till I am well again. I need not inform you that my illnesses are usually short."

JOHN HUNTER ROUTING THE ROUT.

Mr. Jeaffreson, in his amusing Book about Doctors, tells a good story about the great anatomist, John Hunter. "His wife, though devoted in her attachment to him, and in every respect a lady worthy of esteem, caused her husband at times no little vexation by her fondness for society. She was in the habit of giving enormous routs, at which authors and artists, of all shades of merit and demerit, used to assemble to render homage to her literary powers, which were very far from commonplace. Hunter had no sympathy with his wife's poetical aspirations, still less with the society which those aspirations led her to cultivate. Grudging the time which the labours of practice prevented him from devoting to the pursuits of his museum and laboratory, he could not restrain his too irritable temper when Mrs. Hunter's frivolous amusements deprived him of the quiet requisite for study.... Imagine the wrath of such a man, finding, on his return from a long day's work, his house full of musical professors, connoisseurs, and fashionable idlers—in fact, all the confusion and hubbub and heat of a grand party, which his lady had forgotten to inform him was that evening to come off! Walking straight into the middle of the principal reception-room, he faced round and surveyed his unwelcome guests, who were not a little surprised to see him—dusty, toil-worn, and grim—so unlike what 'the man of the house' ought to be on such an occasion. 'I knew nothing,' was his brief address to the astounded crowd—'I knew nothing of this kick-up, and I ought to have been informed of it beforehand; but, as I have now returned home to study, I hope the present company will retire.' Mrs. Hunter's drawing-rooms were speedily empty."

ANTICS OF THE FANATICS.

In concord, yet in contrast, with Dr. South's censure on the fanatics of the Commonwealth, noticed on a former page, we take this from the Loyal Satirist, or Hudibras in Prose, published among Somers' Tracts:—"Well, who's for Aldermanbury? You would think a phœnix preached there; but the birds will flock after an owl as fast; and a foot-ball in cold weather is as much followed as Calama (Calamy) by all his rampant dog-day zealots. But 'tis worth the crouding to hear the baboon expound like the ape taught to play on the cittern. You would think the church, as well as religion, were inversed, and the anticks which were used to be without were removed into the pulpit. Yet these apish tricks must be the motions of the spirit, his whimsie-meagrim must be an ecstatie, and Dr. G——, his palsy make him the father of the sanctified shakers. Thus, among Turks, dizziness is a divine trance, changlings and idiots are the chiefest saints, and 'tis the greatest sign of revelation to be out of one's wits.

"Instead of a dumb-shew, enter the sermon dawbers. O what a gracious sight is a silver inkhorn! How blessed a gift is it to write shorthand! What necessary implements for a saint are cotton wool and blotting-paper! These dablers turn the church into a scrivener's shop. A country fellow last term mistook it for the Six Clerks' Office. The parson looks like an offender upon the scaffold, and they penning his confession; or a spirit conjured up by their uncouth characters. By his cloak you would take him for the prologue to a play; but his sermon, by the length of it, should be a taylor's bill; and what treats it of but such buckram, fustian stuff? What a desperate green-sickness is the land fallen into, thus to doat on coals and dirt, and such rubbish divinity! Must the French cook our sermons too! and are frogs, fungos, and toadstools the chiefest dish in a spiritual collation? Strange Israelites! that cannot distinguish betwixt mildew and manna. Certainly in the brightest sunshine of the gospel clouds are the best guides; and woodcocks are the only birds of paradise. I wonder how the ignorant rabbies should differ so much, since most of their libraries consist only of a concordance. The wise men's star doubtless was an ignis fatuus in a churchyard; and it was some such Will-o'-th'-Whisp steered prophetical Saltmarsh, when, riding post to heaven, he lost his way in so much of revelation as not to be understood; like the musick of the spheres, which never was heard."

POPE'S LAST EPIGRAM.

During Pope's last illness, it is said, a squabble happened in his chamber between his two physicians, Dr. Burton and Dr. Thomson, who mutually charged each other with hastening the death of the patient by improper treatment. Pope at length silenced them by saying, "Gentlemen, I only learn by your discourse that I am in a dangerous way; therefore, all I now ask is, that the following epigram may be added after my death to the next edition of the Dunciad, by way of postscript:—

TRANSFUSION OF BLOOD.

The experiment of transferring the blood of one animal into the vascular system of another, by means of a tube connected with a vein of the receiving animal and an artery of the other—which had been unsuccessfully attempted in 1492 in the hope of saving the life of Pope Innocent VIII.—was first tried in England in the year 1657 by Clarke, who failed in his attempts. Lower, of Oxford, succeeded in 1665, and communicated his success to the Royal Society. This was on dogs. Coxe did it on pigeons; and Coxe and King afterwards exhibited the experiment on dogs before the Society, transfusing the blood from vein to vein. It was again performed from a sheep to a dog, and the experiment was frequently repeated. The first attempts at transfusion appear to have been instigated merely by curiosity, or by a disposition to inquire into the powers of animal economy. But higher views soon opened themselves; it was conceived that inveterate diseases, such as epilepsy, gout, and others, supposed to reside in the blood, might be expelled with that fluid; while with the blood of a sheep or calf the health and strength of the animal might be transferred to the patient. The most sanguine anticipations were indulged, and the new process was almost expected to realize the alchemical reveries of an elixir of life and immortality. The experiment was first tried in France, where the blood of a sheep, the most stupid of all animals, according to Buffon, was transfused into the veins of an idiotic youth, with the effect, as was asserted, of sharpening his wits; and a similar experiment was made without injury on a healthy man. Lower and King transferred blood from a sheep into the system of a literary man, who had offered himself for the experiment, at first without inconvenience, but afterwards with a less favourable result; the Royal Society still recommending perseverance in the trials. These events were not calculated to maintain the expectation of brilliant results that had been raised; and other occurrences produced still more severe disappointment. The French youth first mentioned died lethargic soon after the second transfusion; the physicians incurred great disgrace, and were judicially prosecuted by the relations. Not, however, discouraged by this unlucky event, they soon after transfused the blood of a calf into a youth related to the royal family, who died soon after of a local inflammation. The Parliament of Paris now interfered, and proscribed the practice; and two persons having died after transfusion at Rome, the Pope also issued a prohibitory edict. Since the publication in 1824, however, of Dr. Blundell's Physiological and Pathological Researches, transfusion has been recognised as a legitimate operation in obstetric surgery—the object being to obviate the effects of exhaustion from extreme loss of blood by hæmorrhage.

FATHER ANDRE BOULANGER.

France has produced several entertaining preachers, among whom was André Boulanger, better known as "little Father André," who died about the middle of the seventeenth century. His character has been variously drawn. He is by some represented as a buffoon in the pulpit; but others more judiciously observe, that he only indulged his natural genius, and uttered humorous and lively things to keep the attention of his audience awake. "He told many a bold truth," says the author of Guerre des Auteurs, Anciens et Modernes, "that sent bishops to their dioceses, and made many a coquette blush. He possessed the art of biting while he smiled; and more ably combated vice by his ingenious satire, than by those vague apostrophes which no one takes to himself. While others were straining their minds to catch at sublime thoughts which no one understood, he lowered his talents to the most humble situations, and to the minutest things." In fact, Father André seems to have been a sort of seventeenth century Spurgeon, as two samples may serve to show. In one of his sermons he compared the four doctors of the Latin Church to the four kings of cards. "St. Augustine," said he, "is the King of Hearts, for his great charity; St. Ambrose is the King of Clubs (treflé), by the flowers of his eloquence; St. Gregory is the King of Diamonds, for his strict regularity; and St. Jerome is the King of Spades (pique), for his piquant style." The Duke of Orleans once dared Father André to employ any ridiculous expression about him. This, however, the good father did, very adroitly. He addressed the Duke thus: "Foin de vous, Monseigneur; foin de moi; foin de tous les auditeurs." He saved himself from the consequences of his jest, by taking for his text the seventh verse of the tenth chapter of Isaiah, where it is said, "All the people are grass"—Foin in French signifying hay, and being also an interjection, "Fie upon!"

AN INTERCESSOR FOR HIMSELF.

A Protestant renting a little farm under the second Duke of Gordon, a Catholic, fell behind in his payments; and the steward, in his master's absence, seized the farmer's stock and advertised it to be rouped on a certain day. In the interval, the Duke returned home, and the tenant went to him to entreat indulgence. "What is the matter, Donald?" said the Duke, seeing him enter with sad and downcast looks. Donald told his sorrowful tale concisely and naturally: it touched the Duke's heart, and produced a formal quittance of the debt. Donald, as he cheerily withdrew, was seen staring at the pictures and images he saw in the Duke's hall, and expressed to his Grace, in a homely way, a wish to know who they were. "These," said the Duke, "are the saints who intercede with God for me." "My Lord Duke," said the tenant, "would it not be better to apply yourself directly to God? I went to mickle Sandy Gordon, and to little Sandy Gordon; but if I had not come to your good Grace's self, I could not have got my discharge, and baith I and my bairns had been harried out of house and hame."

WHITFIELD'S INFLUENCE ON THE CHURCH.

Toplady speaks thus, in a sermon, of the Establishment to which he belonged, and the effect on its ministers of the work of Whitfield beyond its pale:—"I believe no denomination of professing Christians (the Church of Rome excepted) were so generally void of the light and life of godliness, so generally destitute of the doctrine and of the grace of the gospel, as was the Church of England, considered as a body, about fifty years ago. At that period, a converted minister in the Establishment was as great a wonder as a comet; but now, blessed be God, since that precious, that great apostle of the English empire, the late dear Mr. Whitfield, was raised up in the spirit and power of Elias, the word of God has run and been glorified; many have believed and been added to the Lord all over the three kingdoms; and still, blessed be His name, the great Shepherd and Bishop of souls continues to issue His word; and great is the company of preachers, greater and greater every year." This was indeed a liberality far in advance of Toplady's time.

GENEROSITY OF DR. GREGORY.

It was the custom of the Professors of Edinburgh University, in the time of this amiable and learned man—as it is partly still—to receive at their own residences the fees from students intending to attend their lectures; some old students yet remembering that, when other material for the class-tickets failed, and sometimes even when it did not, the necessary formula was written on the back of a playing-card. While Dr. Gregory was one day at the receipt of fees, he left his room, in which was a single student, and went into an adjoining apartment for more admission cards. In this room there was a mirror, in which the doctor saw the student lift and pocket a portion of a pile of guineas that lay on the table. Dr. Gregory took no notice of what he had seen till he was showing the student out; but on the threshold he said, with a voice marked with deep emotion, "Young man, I saw what you did just now. Keep the money; I know what distress you must be in. But for God's sake never do it again; it can never succeed." The remorseful student sought in vain to persuade the Professor to take back the money: "No, this must be your punishment, that you must keep it now that you have taken it." The kind warning was not lost; the student, we are assured, turned out a good and honest man. At another time Gregory attended a poor medical student, ill of typhus fever, who offered him the customary fee of a guinea. The doctor refused it in silence, and with signs of annoyance and anger at the offer; whereupon the student hastily said, "I beg your pardon, Dr. Gregory; I did not know your rule. Dr. A. has always taken a fee." "Oh, he has, has he?" said Gregory; "then, my young friend, ask him to meet me here in consultation—and offer me the fee first." The consultation took place, and the student offered the fee; whereupon the good Gregory broke out: "Sir, do you mean to insult me? Is there a Professor in this University who would so far degrade himself, as to take payment from one of his brotherhood, and a junior?" Dr. A. did not enjoy the little scene that had been prepared for him; and that very day he returned the fees he had taken of the sick student.

RUDE TRUTH FOR A QUEEN.

It is well known to how great an extent Queen Elizabeth, with all her strength of mind, was beset by the weakness of her sex in what concerned her age and her personal appearance. "The majesty and gravity of a sceptre," says one of her contemporaries, "could not alter the nature of a woman in her. When Bishop Rudd was appointed to preach before her, he, wishing in a godly zeal, as well became him, that she should think sometimes of mortality, being then sixty-three years of age—he took his text fit for that purpose out of the Psalms, xc. 12: 'Teach us to number our days, that we may incline our hearts unto wisdom;' which text he handled most learnedly. But when he spoke of some sacred and mystical numbers, as three for the Trinity, three times three for the heavenly hierarchy, seven for the Sabbath, and seven times seven for a jubilee; and lastly, nine times seven for the grand climacterical year (her age), she, perceiving whereto it tended, began to be troubled by it. The Bishop, discovering that all was not well, for the pulpit stood opposite her Majesty, he fell to treat of some more plausible (pleasing) numbers, as of the number 666, making Latinus, with which, he said, he could prove Pope to be Antichrist, etc. He still, however, interlarded his sermon with Scripture passages, touching the infirmities of age, as that in Ecclesiastes: 'When the grinders shall be few in number, and they wax dark that look out of the windows,' etc.; 'and the daughters of singing shall be abased;' and more to that purpose. The Queen, as the manner was, opened the window; but she was so far from giving him thanks or good countenance, that she said plainly: 'He might have kept his arithmetic for himself; but I see the greatest clerks are not the wisest men;' and so she went away discontented."

AN ARCHBISHOP'S INSTALLATION FEAST.

Fuller, in his Church History, relates that "George Nevill, brother to the great Earl of Warwick, at his instalment into the Archbishoprick of York, gave a prodigious feast to all the nobility, most of the prime clergy, and many of the great gentry, wherein, by his bill of fare, three hundred quarters of wheat, three hundred and thirty tuns of ale, one hundred and four tuns of wine, one pipe of spiced wine, eighty fat oxen, six wild bulls, one thousand and four wethers, three hundred hogs, three hundred calves, three thousand geese, three thousand capons, three hundred pigs, one hundred peacocks, two hundred cranes, two hundred kids, two thousand chickens, four thousand pigeons, four thousand rabbits, two hundred and four bitterns, four thousand ducks, two hundred pheasants, five hundred partridges, four thousand woodcocks, four hundred plovers, one hundred curlews, one hundred quails, one thousand egrets, two hundred roes, above four hundred bucks, does, and roebucks, one thousand five hundred and six hot venison pasties, four thousand cold venison pasties, one thousand dishes of jelly parted, four thousand dishes of plain jelly, four thousand cold custards, two thousand hot custards, three hundred pike, three hundred bream, eight seals, four porpoises, and four hundred tarts. At this feast the Earl of Warwick was steward, the Earl of Bedford, treasurer, the Lord of Hastings, comptroller, with many more noble officers; servitors, one thousand; cooks, sixty-two; kitcheners, five hundred and fifteen.... But," continues honest Fuller, "seven years after, the King seized on all the estate of this archbishop, and sent him over prisoner to Calais in France, where vinctus jacuit in summa inopia, he was kept bound in extreme poverty. Justice thus punished his former prodigality."