When Bishop of Oxford, he had “an admirable, grave, and venerable aspect.” But his pontifical state permitted some humanities, and he was married to a pretty wife. “One time,” says Aubrey, “as he was confirming, the country people pressing in to see the ceremony, said he, ‘Bear off there, or I’ll confirm you with my staff.’ Another time, being about to lay his hand on the head of a man very bald, he turns to his chaplain (Lushington) and said, ‘Some dust, Lushington’ (to keep his hand from slipping).” He and Dr. Lushington, of Pembroke College, “a very learned and ingenious man,” would sometimes lock themselves in the wine-cellar. Then he laid down first his episcopal hat, with, “There lies the doctor”; next, his gown, with, “There lies the bishop”; and then ’twas “Here’s to thee, Corbet” and “Here’s to thee, Lushington.” Three years after attaining the bishopric of Norwich he died. “Good-night, Lushington,” were his last words. II There is also in Aubrey another such ruddy memory of a fine old gentleman--a scholar, a thoughtful and genial governor of youth, “a right Church of England man,” and President of Trinity. In gown and surplice and hood “he had a terrible gigantic aspect, with his sharp grey eyes” and snowy hair. He had a rich, digressive mind, “like a hasty pudding, where there was memory, judgment, and fancy all stirred together,” not suited to his day; and began a sermon happily, but not at all to Aubrey’s taste:-- “Being my turn to preach in this place, I went into [Illustration: TRINITY COLLEGE The entrance to the College is under the tower at the west end of the Chapel, which appears towards the right of the picture. The architecture of the Chapel is worthy of being seen, though the covering of green prevents this--a custom carried to excess in Oxford buildings. Opposite, at the extreme left, is a portion of the east end of the Chapel of Balliol College, and the trees are standing in that remnant of an old orchard fronting the Broad which forms the spacious approach to Trinity College. ] my study to prepare myself for my sermon, and I took down a book that had blue strings, and looked in it, and ’twas sweet Saint Bernard. I chanced to read such a part of it, on such a subject, which has made me to choose this text....” He concluded, says Aubrey:-- “‘But now I see it is time for me to shut up my book, for I see the doctors’ men come in wiping of their beards from the ale-house.’ He could from the pulpit plainly see them, and ’twas their custom in sermon to go there, and about the end of sermon to return to wait on their masters.”