Nor was this the result in any way of a mind sceptically inclined. His book shows that he accepted the opinions of his day, unless he had been led to inquire into them, and either re-receive them as facts or discard them. Led doubtless by his academic training, it is abundantly clear that he had inquired into the grounds of his belief in the Established Church, and into the additions that had been made to its faith in the course of illiterate ages by the Popish Church. He had read Plotina, who taught him that the so-called vicars of Christ and his vice-gerents on earth were often devils incarnate and standard-bearers of vice, and that the system which did now and again produce a St. Francis d’Assis—all reverence to his name—produced also the congeners of Loyola, and Loyola himself, whose followers, while assuming to themselves the holy name of Socii Jesu, made that name famous and infamous, and their tenets execrated throughout the civilised world. But he accepted with some doubting, having, as he thought, great authority for it and no means of investigation, the story of the Remora; and accepted without doubting the beliefs that the bone of a carp’s head, and none other, staunched blood, the value of the unicorn’s horn, and the like, and—notwithstanding his disbelief in astrology—that seed-time and springing were governed by the waxing and waning of the moon. He also believed that precious stones owed their origin to the influences of the heavenly bodies; and besides his credulous beliefs as to certain waters, narrated at the commencement, he in the next chapter gives the absurdly wonderful virtues of these stones, some, as he says, believed in by him, “though many things most false are added”.