Merchant Tailors’ had peculiar joy in the accession of Anne, for it was through one of the pupils that the succession of this sovereign lady was undisputed. Crowther had married her mother, Anne Hyde, to the Duke of York; and he did this so cautiously and entirely according to law, with ample proof to support it, that James strove in vain to procure an annulling of the marriage, and Merchant Tailors’ looked on the position of the female monarch as one which had been achieved for her by one of the popular scholars of the house. It was expected that she would have shown her royal gratitude by conferring the Bishopric of Lincoln on little Doctor Dawes, another scholar; but Dawes preached unpalatable truths to her, and Anne would not move him from an honorary chaplaincy. “You have lost a bishopric by your preaching,” said a good-natured friend to him. “I do not know how that may be,” said Dawes, “but I certainly never mean to try to gain one by preaching.” Divinely well said, O doughty Dawes! You well deserved what you afterwards attained, the See of Chester. Among the pupils who _were_ raised to the Bench, Mews, of Winchester, was perhaps as remarkable as any. His death certainly was so. He was subject to fainting fits, from which he was used to recover by smelling hartshorn. He was once in conversation with a clerical friend, when he was suddenly attacked by one of these fits. He was speechless, but he pointed to the bottle of hartshorn on his table. The friend seized the bottle, and, opening the prelate’s mouth, poured the whole of the contents down his throat, by which the bishop was suffocated. Notwithstanding this neat achievement, the zealous clerical friend did not succeed to the vacant see.