Another interesting glimpse of Sanderson is caught in "Walton's Lives." When he came up to London in 1655, the worthy angler met him near Little Britain, "in sad-coloured clothes--far from being costly." One can see the noble countenance of the man--with his lofty forehead, fine regular features, full round eyes, white moustache, and trimly-peaked beard;--only he was now dressed in lay attire, and that of a very humble kind, instead of appearing, as in his portrait, with surplice, scarf, and college cap. It was raining at the time, and he and Walton turned aside to gossip under a pent-house; when, the wind driving in their faces, they adjourned to "a cleanly house," where they had bread, cheese, ale, and a fire for their money. Their conversation naturally turned upon the Church; and Sanderson bewailed the abolishing of the Prayer Book and the use of extempore prayer, pronouncing the Collects "the most passionate, proper, and most elegant expressions that any language ever afforded." The Liturgy, the Psalms, and the language of devotion, he complained, had been exchanged for needless debates about free-will, election, and reprobation. Such lamentations no doubt formed the staple of much table-talk amongst the class to which the ejected Oxonian belonged; and in the contempt poured upon extempore prayer he manifested the onesidedness of Episcopalian prejudices. He and his opponents were not in a position to regard fairly each other's methods of devotion. Mutual war had exasperated the passions, so as to produce in both a stone-blindness to that which was good beyond their own narrow enclosures. The same tone of prejudice also led Sanderson to point at Puritanism another shaft--which larger acquaintance with human nature, and a deeper sense of justice, will lead the moral censor, with a slight modification of phraseology, to apply to hypocrites of all sects. They thought, said the Anglican Churchman, that "they might be religious first, and then just and merciful; that they might sell their consciences, and yet have something left that was worth keeping; that they might be sure they were elected, though their lives were visibly scandalous; that to be cunning was to be wise; that to be rich was to be happy, though their wealth was got without justice or mercy; that to be busy in things they understood not, was no sin." The writer and other clear-headed men besides him did not see, that after all, the charge of hypocrisy applies, not to the thoroughly honest, though fanatical Puritan of the Commonwealth, but to all such persons as for awhile assumed the livery of a sect for their own selfish ends: amongst whom were many who a few years afterwards declared, that they had been Episcopalian in heart throughout the whole period, and had only "submitted to the times." Curious, too, is it to find this distinguished man, at the end of his interesting conversation with Walton, starting the idea, that the way to restore the country to a