d to the maxim _seniores priores_, and
will therefore begin with Dr. Routh, the centenarian President of
Magdalen, as, though, the headship of a house seems to be an excellent
prescription for longevity, there was no one to dispute the venerable
doctor's claim to precedence in this respect. He was then nearly a
hundred years old, and he died in his hundredth year, and obtained his
wish to have the _C, anno centesimo_, on his gravestone, for, though
tired of life, he often declared, so I was told, that he would not be
outdone in this respect by another very old man, who was a dissenter;
he never liked to see the Church beaten. I might have made his
personal acquaintance, some friends of the old President offering to
present me to him. But I did not avail myself of their offer, because
I knew the old man did not like to be shown as a curiosity. When I saw
him sitting at his window he always wore a wig, and few had seen him
without his wig and without his academic gown. He was certainly an
exceptional man, and I believe he stood alone in the whole history of
literature, as having published books at an interval of seventy years.
His edition of the _Enthymemes_ and _Gorgias of Plato_ was published
in 1784, his papers on the _Ignatian Epistles_ in 1854. His _Reliquia
Sacra_ first appeared in 1814, and they are a work which at that time
would have made the reputation of any scholar and divine. His editions
of historical works, such as Burnet's _History of his own Time_ and
the _History of the reign of King James_, show his considerable
acquaintance with English history. I have already mentioned how he
used to speak of events long before his time, such as the execution of
Charles I, as if he had been present; nor did he hesitate to declare
that even Bishop Burnet was a great liar. He certainly had seen many
things which connected him with the past. He had seen Samuel Johnson
mounting the steps of the Clarendon building in Broad Street, and
though he had not himself seen Charles I when he held his Parliament
at Oxford, he had known a lady whose mother had seen the king walking
round the Parks at Oxford.

However, we must not forget that many stories about the old President
were more or less mythical, as indeed many Oxford stories are. I was
told that he actually slept in wig, cap and gown, so that once when
an alarm of fire was raised in the quadrangle of his College, he put
his head out of window in an incredibly short time, fu