ilis persona;_
knows much of the order and customs of the church; and though
not so perfect a philosopher as some others, would make a very
good Abbot. Old Abbot Ording, still famed among us, knew little
of letters. Besides, as we read in Fables, it is better to
choose a log for king, than a serpent, never so wise, that will
venomously hiss and bite his subjects."--"Impossible!" answered
the other: "How can such a man make a sermon in the chapter, or
to the people on festival days, when he is without letters? How
can he have the skill to bind and to loose, he who does not
understand the Scriptures? How--?"'

And then `another said of another, _alius de alio,_ "That
_Frater_ is a _homo literatus,_ eloquent, sagacious; vigorous
in discipline; loves the Convent much, has suffered much for
its sake." To which a third party answers, "From all your
great clerks good Lord deliver us! From Norfolk barrators, and
surly persons, That it would please thee to preserve us, We
beseech thee to hear us, good Lord!"' Then `another _quidam_
said of another _quodam,_ "That _Frater_ is a good manager
(_husebondus_);" but was swiftly answered, "God forbid that a
man who can neither read nor chant, nor celebrate the divine
offices, an unjust person withal, and grinder of the faces of the
poor, should ever be Abbot!"' One man, it appears, is nice in
his victuals. Another is indeed wise; but apt to slight
inferiors; hardly at the pains to answer, if they argue with him
too foolishly. And so each _aliquis_ concerning his _aliquo,_--
through whole pages of electioneering babble. `For,' says
Jocelin, `So many men, as many minds. Our Monks at time of
blood-letting, _tempore minutionis,_' holding their sanhedrim of
babble, would talk in this manner: Brother Samson, I remarked,
never said anything; sat silent, sometimes smiling; but he took
good note of what others said, and would bring it up, on
occasion, twenty years after. As for me Jocelin, I was of
opinion that `some skill in Dialectics, to distinguish true from
false,' would be good in an Abbot. I spake, as a rash Novice in
those days, some conscientious words of a certain benefactor of
mine; `and behold, one of those sons of Belial' ran and reported
them to him, so that he never after looked at me with the same
face again! Poor Bozzy!--

Such is the buzz and frothy simmering ferment of the general mind
and no-mind; struggling to `make itself up,' as the phrase