an old chapel, which had been long disused for devotion; but in the pulpit, as the safest place, was always to be found a cold chine of beef, a venison pasty, a gammon of bacon, or a great apple-pie, with thick crust, well baked. His table cost him not much, though it was good to eat at. His sports supplied all, but beef and mutton, except on Fridays, when he had the best of fish. He never wanted a London pudding, and he always sang it in with "My part lies therein-a." He drank a glass or two of wine at meals; put syrup of gillyflowers into his sack; and had always a tun glass of small beer standing by him, which he often stirred about with rosemary. He lived to be an hundred, and never lost his eyesight, nor used spectacles. He got on horseback without help, and rode to the death of the stag at fourscore."[250] In consequence of the cheapness of titles in foreign countries, our esquires and gentry are frequently undervalued by strangers, who can form no idea of an untitled aristocracy. We are accustomed to consider no families noble except those possessing the degree of baron, or some superior title; and the branches, even of a ducal house, after a certain number of removes from the titled representative cease to be noble. On the continent it is otherwise: all the descendants of a peer are noble. Our antient gentry, possessed of the broad lands which have descended to them through a long line of ancestors, are virtually more noble, in the heraldric sense of the term, than dukes and marquises who are but of yesterday. New nobility cannot compensate for the want of antient gentry. The caviller will perhaps ask, concerning some of the rambling observations contained in this chapter, and the subject which has called them forth, _Cui bono?_ He may also mutter something about the nobility of virtue, as the only one worth possessing. Well, well, let him enjoy his opinion, and maintain it if he can; but until he has convinced me that true integrity and exalted benevolence cannot reside beneath a coronet, and that the nobility of station obliterates or neutralizes that of virtue, I shall beg leave also to enjoy mine; admitting, meanwhile, the correctness of a sentiment quaintly, though wisely, advanced by Sir John Ferne: "That kind of gentry which is but a bare noblenes of bloud, not clothed with vertues (the right colours of a gentleman's coat-armour) is the _meanest_, yea, and the _most base_ of all the rest: for it respecteth but onely the body, being derived from the loynes of the auncestors, not from the minde, which is the habitation of vertue, the inne of reason, and the resemblaunce of God; and, in true speach, this gentry of stock _only_ shal be said but a shadow, or rather a painture of nobility."[251] "=Manners makyth man, Quoth William of Wykeham.=" [Illustration] CHAPTER XI. Historical Notices of the College of Arms. [Illustration: (Arms of the College.)[252]]