a very strict sense of honour is intimated by the following enactment, apparently framed to check repudiations of bargains and, perhaps, to insure fair dealing:—"No one shall buy either what is living or what is dead to the value of four pennies without four witnesses either of the borough or of the village." William of Malmesbury, who wrote about a century after the Norman Conquest, informs us that "excessive eating and drinking were the common vices of the Saxons, in which they spent whole nights and days without intermission." It may, however, with much probability be conjectured that not only is the statement in some degree exaggerated, but that its application was designed more particularly for the inhabitants of the larger towns than those of comparatively sparsely populated districts like our own. Nevertheless it cannot be claimed, with any show of reason, that the small section of the nation established in the Fylde was entirely uninfected by the vices which enervated and degraded the wealthier and more populous regions of the kingdom. The evil of intemperance in both food and drink, especially the latter, pervaded the whole community, but as its indulgence required both means and opportunity, its loathsome features were less prominently visible in localities where these were scarce than in others where they abounded. The Church used every effort to awaken a better feeling in the minds of her degenerate sons, and liberate them from the chains of a passion which had so thoroughly enslaved them. Canons were directed against the "sin of drunkenness," and in order that no plea of ignorance could be urged by any who had overstepped the bounds of sobriety, a curious and minute description of the condition of body and brain which constituted inebriation was appended to one of them, as here quoted:—"This is drunkenness—when the state of the mind is changed, the tongue stammers, the eyes are disturbed, the head is giddy, the belly is swelled, and pain follows." Ale and mead were the beverages on which these excesses were committed, and cow-horns the drinking cups. It would seem that there was yet another national blemish, that of gambling, which even invaded the cloister and threw its veil of fascination over the clergy themselves, for a canon of the reign of Edgar ordered—"That no priest be a hunter, or fowler, or player at tables, but let him play upon his books, as becometh his calling."
