Leading a calm and quiet life in the pleasant villages of Poplar and Clerkenwell, in “sweet and studious idleness,” as he himself calls it, the old herald was enabled to accumulate rich stores of matter, much of which has come down to us, principally in manuscript, scattered through various great libraries, which prove him to have deserved Camden’s estimate of him as “an antiquary of great judgment and diligence.” It would seem that he had entertained the idea of following in his father’s footsteps, and of becoming an editor of Chaucer, and that he had even made some collections towards that end. The appearance of Speight’s edition probably prevented this idea being carried out, and the evident soreness exhibited in this little tract very probably arose from a feeling that his friend had rather unfairly stolen a march upon him. However the wound was not deep, and Speight made use of Thynne’s corrections, and Thynne assisted Speight, in new editions, with all friendship and sympathy.[1] I suspect him of dabbling in alchemy and the occult sciences. He shows himself well acquainted with the terms peculiar to those mysteries, and hints that Chaucer only “enveyed” against the “sophisticall abuse,” not the honest use of the Arcana. Moreover in the British Museum (MS. add. 11,388) there is a volume containing much curious matter collected by him on these subjects, and not only collected but illustrated by him with most gorgeous colours and wondrous drawing, worthy of the blazonry of a Lancaster Herald. The costumes however are carefully correct, and give us useful hints as to the fashion of the raiment of our ancestors. From the peculiar piety and earnestness (most important elements in the search for the philosopher’s stone), of the small “signs” and prayers appended to these papers, it is, I think, clear, that he was working in all good faith and belief. Possibly the following lines, which seem to have been his favourite motto, may have been inspired by the disappointment and dyspepsia produced by his smoky studies and their ill success, “My strange and froward fate Shall turn her whele anew To better or to payre my fate, Which envy dothe pursue.”