waves do, give as much as conveniently we can." And in another place he says: "Tis not juggling that is to be blamed, but much juggling; for the world cannot be governed without it." His humour is characteristic. At times it takes the form of epigram, as in the following: "They talk (but blasphemously enough) that the Holy Ghost is president of their general councils, when the truth is, the odd man is still [always] the Holy Ghost." At others, it suggests a ludicrous parallel. "Doctor Prideaux, in his lectures, several days used arguments to prove predestination; at last he tells his auditory they are damned that do not believe it; doing herein just like schoolboys, when one of them has got an apple, or something the rest have a mind to, they use all the arguments they can to get some of it from him. I gave you some t'other day; you shall have some with me another time. When they cannot prevail, they tell him he's a jackanapes, a rogue, and a rascal.” Selden has the limitations of one whose feet are always planted firmly on solid earth. He is a guide, a critic; not a leader, an inspirer. As he is untouched by the fanaticisms, he is incapable of the fine enthusiasms of his day. His remarks on poetry show no powers of literary appreciation. Clarendon justly remarked upon his "undervaluing of style." In his writings his sentences are usually ponderous, and often involved—a striking contrast to the homeliness and lucidity of his conversations, which, however, show also carelessness as to form. Yet in both there is an entire absence of pedantry. Selden estimated knowledge at its true value. "No man," he says, "is the wiser for his learning; it may administer matter to work in, or objects to work upon; but wit and wisdom are born with a man. It is matter for regret that one who was pre-eminent in his age for both learning and wisdom should have devoted himself so exclusively to the pursuit of the former as to leave us nothing of the latter except a few fragments collected after his death by his secretary.

W. S. M'CORMICK.

A SCHOLAR'S DEFENCE

NEITHER at all wish I that this of mine should gain any strength of truth from my name alone, but from those authorities which I have designed and brought, both for elder, late and present times, out of such both printed and manuscript Annals, Histories, Councils, Chartularies, Laws, Lawyers, and Records only as were to be used in the most accurate way of search that might furnish for the subject. Yet also I have not neglected the able judgments of such of the learned of later time, as give light to former ages. But I so preferred the choicest and most able, that I have wholly abstained from any mention or use here of those many ignorants that (while they write) rather instruct us in their own wants of ability, than direct to anything that may satisfy. If through ignorance I have omitted anything in the History or the Review that deserved place in them, who ever shall admonish me of it shall have a most willing acknowledgment of his learning and courtesy. But all the bad titles that are ever due to abuse of the holiest obtestation be always my companions, if I have purposely omitted any good authority of ancient or late time, that I saw necessary, or could think might give further or other light to any position or part of it! For I sought only Truth; and was never so far engaged in this or aught else as to torture my brains or venture my credit to make or create premisses for a chosen conclusion, that I rather would than could prove. My premisses made what conclusions or conjectures I have, and were not bred by them. And although both of them here not a little sometimes vary from what is vulgarly received, yet that happened not at all from any desire to differ from common opinion, but from another course of disquisition than is commonly used: that is, by examination of the truth of those suppositions which patient idleness too easily takes for clear and granted. For the old sceptics that never would profess that they had found a truth, showed yet the

best way to search for any, when they doubted as well of what those of the dogmatical sects too credulously received for infallible principles, as they did of the newest conclusions. They were indeed questionless too nice, and deceived themselves with the nimbleness of their own sophisms, that permitted no kind of established truth. But plainly, he that avoids their disputing levity, yet, being able, takes to himself their liberty of enquiry, is in the only way that in all kinds of studies leads and lies open even to the sanctuary of truth; while others, that are servile to common opinion and vulgar suppositions, can rarely hope to be admitted nearer than into the base court of her temple, which too speciously often counterfeits her inmost sanctuary. And to this purpose also is that of Quintilian, most worthy of memory, Optimus est in discendo, patronus incredulus.

(From the Preface to The History of Tithes.)

THE FIRST PAYMENT OF TITHES IN ENGLAND.

FOR the practice of payment among Christians, both Britons and Saxons, might we believe the common tale of that Augustine, the first Archbishop of Canterbury province, his coming to Cometon in Oxfordshire, and doing a most strange miracle there; touching the establishing of the doctrine of due payment of tithes, we should have as certain and express authority for the ancient practice of such payment, as any other church in Christendom can produce. But as the tale is, you shall have it, and then censure it. About the year (they say) DC. Augustine coming to preach at Cometon, the priest of the place makes complaint tọ him, that the lord of the manor having been often admonished by him, would yet pay him no tithes. Augustine questioning the lord about that default in devotion, he stoutly answered, that the tenth sheaf doubtless was his that had interest in the nine, and therefore would pay none. Presently Augustine denounces him excommunicate, and turning to the altar to say mass, publicly forbad that any excommunicate person should be present at it, when suddenly a dead corpse, that had been buried at the church door, arose (pardon me for relating it) and departed out of the limits of the churchyard, standing still without, while the mass continued. Which ended, Augustine comes to this living dead, and

He

For (saith

charges him in the name of the Lord God to declare who he was. He tells him, that in the time of the British State he was huius villa Patronus, and although he had been often urged by the doctrine of the priest to pay his tithes, yet he never could be brought to it; for which he died, he says, excommunicate, and was carried to Hell. Augustine desired to know where the priest that excommunicated him, was buried. This dead showed him the place; where he makes an invocation of the dead priest, and bids him arise also, because they wanted his help. The priest rises. Augustine asks him, if he knew that other that was risen. tells him, yes; but wishes he had never known him. he) he was in all things ever adverse to the Church, a detainer of his tithes, and a great sinner to his death, and therefore I excommunicated him. But Augustine publicly declares, that it was fit mercy should be used towards him, and that he had suffered long in Hell for his offence (you must suppose, I think, the author meant Purgatory); wherefore he gives him absolution, and sends him to his grave, where he fell again into dust and ashes. He gone, the priest new risen tells, that his corpse had lain there above clxx. years; and Augustine would gladly have had him continue upon earth again, for instruction of souls, but could not thereto entreat him. So he also returns to his former lodging. The lord of the town standing by all this while, and trembling, was now demanded if he would pay his tithes ; but he presently fell down at Augustine's feet, weeping and confessing his offence; and receiving pardon, became all his life time a follower of Augustine's. Had this legend truth in it, who could doubt, but that payment of tithes was in practice in the infancy of the British Church? The priest that rose from the dead, lived (if he ever lived) about cccxxx. after Christ, and would not surely have so taxed the lord of this manor only, if the payment had not been usually among other good Christians here, not taught only, but performed also. Neither need I admonish much of the authority of it the whole course of it directs you how to smell out the original. Beside the common Legend of our Saints, it is in some volumes put alone, for a most observable monument; and I found it bound up at the end of the MS. life of Thomas Becket, Archbishop of Canterbury, written by John de Grandisono; and it remains in the public library of Oxford.

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(From The History of Tithes.)

MEASURE OF THINGS

WE measure from ourselves; and as things are for our use and purpose, so we approve them. Bring a pear to the table that is rotten, we cry it down, 'tis naught; but bring a medlar that is rotten, and 'tis a fine thing; and yet I'll warrant you the pear thinks as well of itself as the medlar does.

-We measure the excellency of other men by some excellency we conceive to be in ourselves. Nash a poet, poor enough (as poets us'd to be), seeing an alderman with his gold chain upon his great horse, by way of scorn, said to one of his companions, "Do you see yon fellow, how goodly, how big he looks? Why,

that fellow cannot make a blank verse."

-Nay, we measure the goodness of God from ourselves; we measure his goodness, his justice, his wisdom, by something we call just, good, or wise in ourselves; and in so doing, we judge proportionably to the country-fellow in the play, who said if he were a King, he would live like a lord, and have peas and bacon every day, and a whip that cried slash.

(From the Table-Talk.)

OPINION

OPINION and affection extremely differ. I may affect a woman best, but it does not woman in the world.

follow I must think her the handsomest I love apples best of any fruit, but it does not follow, I must think apples to be the best fruit. Opinion is something wherein I go about to give reason why all the world should think as I think. Affection is a thing wherein I look after

the pleasing of myself.

'Twas a good fancy of an old Platonic: The gods, which are above men, had something whereof man did partake, an intellect, knowledge, and the gods kept on their course quietly. The beasts, which are below man, had something whereof man did partake, sense and growth, and the beasts lived quietly in their way. But man had something in him, whereof neither | gods nor beasts did partake, which gave him all the trouble, and made all the confusion in the world; and that is opinion.