We are no longer apt to reason as Taylor does about the Patriarchs, or on hundreds of other points, and this cannot but diminish our pleasure in reading his books. But he pleases us, exactly as Burton does in "The Anatomy of Melancholy," by illustrations drawn from his amazing knowledge of books. Thus, immediately after the passage last cited, he says "Pierre Cauchon died under the barber's hand: there wanted not some who said it was a judgement upon him for condemning to the fire the famous Pucelle of France, who prophesied the expulsion of the English out of the kingdom. They that thought this believed her to be a prophetess" (as she certainly was), "but others that thought her a witch, were willing to find out another conjecture for the sudden death of the gentleman." "The sudden death of the gentleman" is a courteous phrase to apply to Cauchon; and very unexpected in "The History of the Life and Death of the Holy Jesus". But whence did Jeremy get his story of Cauchon? From the Latin hexameters of Valerandus, a book so entirely out of the common way that perhaps not three persons in the England of to-day have read it. So our author runs on, telling of "that famous person and of excellent learning, Giacchettus of Geneva," whose morals were not Genevan, while his death was, in an extreme degree, remarkable. Jeremy more than once insists that many thousand men were slain, in one night, in the Assyrian camp, for committing the offence of that famous person, Giacchettus. Nobody has ever found out his authority for his statement; he may have learned it "from the Jewish doctors". In any case, however entertaining and instructive his divine works may be, he often raises a smile which he never dreamed of provoking. Other times, other tastes!