Amongst the _deliramenta_ of the learned, which have amused mankind, the
following instance merits a conspicuous rank. Some years ago, there were
several large elm trees in the college garden, behind the ecclesiastical
court, Doctors Commons, in which a number of rooks had taken up their
abode, forming in appearance a sort of _convocation_ of aërial
ecclesiastics. A young gentleman, who lodged in an attic, and was their
close neighbour, frequently entertained himself with thinning this covey
of black game, by means of a cross-bow. On the opposite side lived a
curious old civilian, who, observing from his study, that the rooks
often dropt senseless from their perch, or as it may be said, without
using a figure, _hopp’d the twig_, making no sign, nor any sign being
made to his vision to account for the phenomenon, set his wits to work
to consider the cause. It was probably during a _profitless_ time of
peace, and the doctor having plenty of leisure, weighed the matter over
and over, till he was at length fully satisfied that he had made a great
ornithological discovery, that its promulgation would give wings to his
Fame, and that he was fated by means of these rooks to say,
“Volito vivus per ora virum.”
His goose-quill and foolscap were quickly in requisition, and he
actually wrote _a treatise_, stating circumstantially what he himself
had seen, and in conclusion, giving it as the settled conviction of his
mind, that _rooks_ were subject to the _falling sickness_![99]