n he would become wayward and sensitive, do what I would,
and I had to let him go his own way, as I went mine.

I remember dining with the famous Dr. Bull, Canon of Christ Church,
who certainly managed to produce a dinner that would have done credit
to any French chef. He was one of the last pluralists, and many
stories were told about him. One story, which however was perfectly
true, showed at all events his great sagacity. A well-known banker had
been for years the banker of Christ Church. Dr. Bull who was the
College Bursar had to transact all the financial business with him. No
one suspected the banking house which he represented. Dr. Bull,
however, the last time he invited him to dinner, was struck by his
very pious and orthodox remarks, and by the change of tone in his
conversation, such as might suit a Canon of Christ Church, but not a
luxurious banker from London. Without saying a word, Dr. Bull went to
London next day, drew out all the money of the college, took all his
papers from the bank, and the day after, to the dismay of London, the
bank failed, the depositors lost their money, but Christ Church was
unhurt.

Another of the Canons of Christ Church at that time had spent half a
century in the place, and read the lessons there twice every day. Of
course he knew the prayer-book by heart, and as long as he could see
to read there was no harm in his reading. But when his eyesight failed
him and he had to trust entirely to his memory, he would often go from
some word in the evening prayer to the same word in the marriage
service, and from there to the burial service, with an occasional slip
into baptism. The result of it was that he was no longer allowed to
read the service in Chapel except during Long Vacation when the young
men were away. I frequently stayed at Oxford during vacation, and
thought of course that the evening service would never end, till at
last I was asked to name the child, and then I went home.

One Sunday I remember going to chapel, and after prayers had begun the
following conversation took place, loud enough to be heard all through
the chapel. Enter old Canon preceded by a beadle. He goes straight to
his stall, and finding it occupied by a well-known D.D. from London,
who is deeply engaged in prayer, he stands and looks at the
interloper, and when that produces no effect, he says to the beadle:
"Tell that man this is my stall; tell him to get out."

Beadle: "Dr. A.'s compliments, and w