indeed we flew;' but the old gentlemen do not appear to have possessed the staying powers of the young ladies, and soon resigned the oars. The house, although humble, was not uncomfortable. It had many bedrooms and a staircase at either end, which gave occasion to the joke that it was 'quite a good house, for it had both a front and a back staircase.' They had many visitors. The Bishop was much liked, and when fairly well was full of conversation and anecdote. Although not a diner out, or fond of leaving his own home, he was, as ever, hospitable to a fault, and his friends flocked to him. He if anyone might have truly said:

'At fides et ingeni

Benigna vena est, pauperemque dives

Me petit.'

Mrs. McDougall also, although an acquisition to any society, loved best to dwell among her own people. At the back of the vicarage was a long, straggling walled garden, with a walk lined by ancient yew trees leading up to the church which stood above it. The grand seventeenth-century tower and spire form a fine distant object from the Great Northern Railway just before the traveller reaches Huntingdon, and if he is fortunate, and the wind sets in the right direction, as the train slackens he may hear the music of the peal of bells within it. In the Bishop's time the church and tower required repairs, and the bells rehanging, which was done at an expense of many hundreds of pounds. He was proud of the work, and liked to point out the timbers required to suspend in mid air those ponderous weights. In connection with these bells there was an interesting custom of ringing curfew on them when the floods were out and the fogs prevailing. It was said to be continued in consequence of the bequest of a sum of money by a wayfarer, who had lost his way in the meadows and was saved from drowning in the Ouse by hearing the Godmanchester curfew. The church itself, of the Perpendicular period, is a spacious and solemn building. It was in one

respect remarkable, namely, in the apportionment of the seats, which would have delighted the members of the 'Free and Open Church Association.' The whole of the centre of the building with the middle aisle was devoted to the poor and was unappropriated, the gentry being driven into the side. aisles and all sorts of corners for their pews and sittings. Rather hard perhaps upon deaf old gentlemen, who were expected to be the principal contributors to the parish charities, and were yet not allowed to hear the charity sermons. There does not, however, appear to have been any complaint, and for the best possible reason, that it had always been so.

Any stranger driving from Huntingdon to Cambridge might suppose that Godmanchester was a hamlet or suburb of the former place, to which it is united by a venerable bridge across the river Ouse which marks the boundary. He would soon, however, learn, if he made the inquiry at Godmanchester, that he was greatly mistaken, and that the place was not a hamlet, but a borough, having a mayor and corporation of its own, and much superior in antiquity to Huntingdon. Had he made the inquiry before he crossed the bridge he would upon the last point have probably been told quite a different story, and the superiority would have been claimed by the Huntingdonians for Huntingdon. This is not the place to dispute the question, which must be left to the local Oldbucks to settle. But it is certain that Godmanchester is, as the country people say, 'a very ancient place, sir.'

A British settlement, the Durolipons of the Romans (unless Durolipons was Huntingdon), a Danish encampment and a royal manor at the time of the Confessor, its archives and the history of its possessions, common-fields, and customs, present a mine of wealth to the student of ancient law not yet exhausted. The very first charter in which the manor at a rent still payable was granted by King John to our men of Gumecester' seems to point to a state still earlier than the feudal law, and in which the land was held in community, and

U

not in severalty. By this charter the men of Godmanchester, whosoever they were, probably the tenants in ancient demesne of the manor, were, no doubt, incorporated, but by the charter of James I., in 1604, they were so formally as the bailiffs, assistants, and commonalty of the borough, and their privileges continue.

In Fox's 'History of Godmanchester,' published in 1831, the royal charters are given, and much curious information on these points is collected; but fifty years ago ancient real property law was not understood as it now is, for the idea was held that it was wholly based on the feudal law, and that all before was chaos. It is to be hoped that some careful student, a disciple of the late Sir H. Maine, will be found hereafter to devote himself to this subject. Bishop McDougall, although not a lawyer, took much interest in it, and often spoke of it to his brother-in-law.

The Bishop was a diligent parish priest, and delighted in the performance of his office. He had daily service in Advent and Lent, and there was no lack of the usual ministrations at other holy seasons, or of Sunday- or night-schools for the children and adults.

The county of Huntingdon had long been a stronghold of the Nonconformists, from the times of the Protector and the Commonwealth to those of Selina, Countess of Huntingdon, and up to the present. The Bishop always sought to be on good terms with them, although unwilling to sacrifice Church principles. On one occasion he heard that there had been a warm discussion in the parish with the Baptists on the subject of total immersion, shortly before a public baptism, when, at the afternoon Sunday service, nine or ten children were to be presented, and his mode of meeting it is worth relating. Anyone consulting the Prayer-book will see that the rubric prescribes, that if the godparents shall certify that the child may well endure it, the priest shall dip it in the water discreetly and warily.' He paused, therefore, at the naming of the

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children and inquired, 'And which of these children are to be dipped?' It was the depth of winter and snow was upon the ground. It was not, therefore, surprising that to the question no one responded, and for a time at least the controversy settled itself.

On another occasion he ran the risk of getting into a serious scrape from the existence of Dissent in his parish. He was obliged from the first to have a curate, and was fortunate in having for several years the assistance of the present Rector of St. George's-in-the-East, who, later on, became his son-in-law, and of whom the following story is not told. During some period of his absence a new curate came upon the scene, a very young man, in the first fervour of very High Churchmanship, not undistinguished but quite inexperienced. At that time there was an old lady in the parish, an excellent person, full of good works, and a great ally of the Bishop's, but she was a Particular Baptist. The Bishop was called away to London for a few days, and our young friend was left in charge, and, as ill-luck would have it, before the Bishop returned the poor lady died. How often we have heard from our clerical friends of the perversity of their parishioners, who will die directly they turn their backs upon them. Preparations were made for the funeral, but here was an opportunity for the curate, who forbade the interment, and threatened to lock the churchyard against the Dissenting minister. The parish flew to arms, and an indignation meeting was called, but before it was held they wisely wrote to the Bishop, who telegraphed back that the padlock was to be taken off the gate and the funeral to take place to the satisfaction of the friends of the deceased. At the same time he pointed out that it had been forgotten that on the enlargement of the churchyard in 1870, when he had been himself the consecrating or dedicating Bishop, a portion of land had been reserved for the Dissenters furthest from the church, and divided at least by a gravel walk from the consecrated ground. Here,

then, the grave was dug, and the obsequies performed to the contentment of all parties, and the unconsecrated ground was consecrated, as in primitive times, by the deposition of the ashes of a saint. The plans adopted in 1870 were necessarily approved by the Bishop of the diocese, and the land, part of the Rectory Farm, was given by the Dean and Chapter of Westminster as rectors with the approval of the Ecclesiastical Commissioners; so that we may assume that all was done in due order, without any infringement of the rights of the Church. Mr. Osborne Morgan's Bill did not become law until some years afterwards, namely, in 1880, but the arrangement looks very like an anticipation of the more healing clauses of that enactment. It is worth adding that in this matter the Bishop had the advice of Mr. Beresford Hope, who pointed out that at Goudhurst in Kent, near Bedgebury, the same arrangement had been made with the unanimous approval of both Churchmen and Dissenters under the Cemetery Acts.

In December 1888 it appeared that the churchyard was under the same arrangements. It had been completed some years before by the erection of a substantial wall round the whole enclosure, the portion allotted to the Nonconformists being separated by the gravel walk and a light iron hurdle.

He had, as we have said, many friends, and probably no enemies. He once ran the risk of making one of the latter. There was a redoubtable individual, an ex-prizefighter, known as Gully Maile, who was the terror of the neighbourhood. This man insisted on sitting upon the window-sill of the vicarage dining-room, and smoking his pipe into the open window, and to his great surprise found himself taken by the shoulders and dislodged. Shortly after two rough fellows got into a quarrel and indulged in a boxing-match opposite the vicarage, our friend Gully acting as backer and second to one of them. In spite of the advice of the local policeman, who dared not interfere and warned the Bishop-in effect, though not in words-that