e it, but if once it be thrust off the
first Stair, it never stays till it comes to the bottom.

We look after Religion as the Butcher did after his Knife, when he
had it in his Mouth.

WIT.

Nature must be the ground-work of Wit and Art; otherwise whatever
is done will prove but Jack-pudding's work.

WIFE.

You shall see a Monkey sometime, that has been playing up and down
the Garden, at length leap up to the top of the Wall, but his Clog
hangs a great way below on this side: the Bishop's Wife is like
that Monkey's Clog; himself is got up very high, takes place of the
Temporal Barons, but his Wife comes a great way behind.

Selden's father was a small farmer who played the fiddle well. The boy
is said at the age of ten to have carved over the door a Latin distich,
which, being translated, runs:--

Walk in and welcome, honest friend; repose.
Thief, get thee gone! to thee I'll not unclose.

[Sidenote: SAINT THOMAS'S FIGS]

Between Salvington and Worthing lies Tarring, noted for its fig gardens.
It is a fond belief that Thomas a Becket planted the original trees from
which the present Tarring figs are descended; and there is one tree
still in existence which tradition asserts was set in the earth by his
own hand. Whether this is possible I am not sufficiently an
arboriculturist to say; but Becket certainly sojourned often in the
Archbishop of Canterbury's palace in the village. The larger part of the
present fig garden dates from 1745. I have seen it stated that during
the season a little band of _becca ficos_ fly over from Italy to taste
the fruit, disappearing when it is gathered; but a Sussex ornithologist
tells me that this is only a pretty story.

The fig gardens are perhaps sufficient indication that the climate of
this part of the country is very gentle. It is indeed unique in
mildness. There is a little strip of land between the sea and the hills
whose climatic conditions approximate to those of the Riviera: hence, in
addition to the success of the Tarring fig gardens, Worthing's fame for
tomatoes and other fruit. I cannot say when the tomato first came to the
English table, but the first that I ever saw was at Worthing, and
Worthing is now the centre of the tomato-growing industry. Miles of
glass houses stretch on either side of the town.

Worthing (like Brighton and Bognor) owed its beginning as a health
resort to the h