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This time it was he himself who was concerned. He was summoned to
Bishopsgate before a commission composed of three disagreeable
countenances. They belonged to three doctors, called overseers. One was
a Doctor of Theology, delegated by the Dean of Westminster; another, a
Doctor of Medicine, delegated by the College of Surgeons; the third, a
Doctor in History and Civil Law, delegated by Gresham College. These
three experts in omni re scibili had the censorship of everything said
in public throughout the bounds of the hundred and thirty parishes of
London, the seventy-three of Middlesex, and, by extension, the five of
Southwark.
Such theological jurisdictions still subsist in England, and do good
service. In December, 1868, by sentence of the Court of Arches,
confirmed by the decision of the Privy Council, the Reverend Mackonochie
was censured, besides being condemned in costs, for having placed
lighted candles on a table. The liturgy allows no jokes.
Ursus, then, one fine day received from the delegated doctors an order
to appear before them, which was, luckily, given into his own hands, and
which he was therefore enabled to keep secret. Without saying a word, he
obeyed the citation, shuddering at the thought that he might be
considered culpable to the extent of having the appearance of being
suspected of a certain amount of rashness. He who had so recommended
silence to others had here a rough lesson. Garrule, sana te ipsum.
The three doctors, delegated and appointed overseers, sat at
Bishopsgate, at the end of a room on the ground floor, in three
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