Chapter 19

“The thing that hath been, it is that which shall be; and that which is done, is that which shall be done; and there is no new thing under the sun.” (Ecclesiastes i. 9.)

In the infidel objections of Bolingbroke, the reader finds the pith of all the infidel objections of the present day; and, in order to refute them, nothing more is needed than to turn to the manly defences of the Holy Bible written more than a hundred years ago. Modern infidelity is the infidelity of Bolingbroke and others, dished up, and served with newly-invented garnishing, and a pretentiously learned flavour. Hervey’s treatise is free from all the ornate faultiness of his “Meditations”; its style is flowing, clear, and forcible; and its arguments fairly put and unanswerable. It would be rendering useful service to republish it in the present alarming prevalency of unbelief.

In the month of May, 1752, the livings of Weston-Favel and Collingtree were rendered vacant by the death of Hervey’s father. The following extracts from letters to Lady Frances Shirley refer to this event, and to other matters.

“1732, May 19.I am upon the point to remove into Northamptonshire. It has pleased God to take my honoured father to Himself; sothat, I am obliged to depart from my present situation, and to take the living of Weston.[200]O! that I had strength of constitution, to watch over a flock, and feed them with the milk of the word! But the will of the Lord is best. He employs whom He will employ; and whom He will, He lays aside. Wise and righteous are all His ways. ’Tis very probable, I shall never have the pleasure of seeing your ladyship again, on this side the everlasting habitations. My enfeebled state renders me like an aged tree, which must continue where it is fixed: to transplant it, or to remove it, is to kill it.”“May 23.I am just arrived at Weston, after a pleasant journey, in an easy coach, and cool weather. I am much fatigued, though we allowed two days for about seventy miles. Thanks are due to your ladyship for making my Letter[201]acceptable to others, by approving it yourself, and honouring it with your recommendation. I humbly bless God, if He pleases to give it favour in the eyes of others; and should think it the highest privilege, if He would vouchsafe to render it at all serviceable to their best interests; especially to such a distinguished and illustrious personage as the Princess of W⸺. I assure you, my lady, I have not the least aversion to print any production of mine, in case better judges should think it might tend to maintain the honour of the Bible, or endear that inestimable book to mankind. All I fear is, lest acute but irreligious minds should discover some weak sentiment; should find some flaw in the argument; and take occasion to wound the Redeemer, and vilify His truths, through my inadvertence. Be so good, my lady, as to make my very respectful compliments acceptable to Dr. Hales,[202]and inform him of my suspicions. If he would please to revise the little essay, and should think the ‘Remarks’ will stand the test of a rigorous examination, my scruples would be very much abated. I believe, I durst undertake to vindicate all the observations, that are of a critical nature, with regard to the original language, or of an historic nature with regard to fact. Whether I offend against the rules of polite and genteel demeanour, your ladyship is the best judge. If your ladyship, or the Dr., should persist in your opinion, I wish you would be so good as to get the paper transcribed (no matter how close it is written) and transmitted to me in a frank; for I have no copy of it, only in some incoherent minutes in shorthand.“I know not what the Lord will do with me, or how I shall proceed.My strength is so worn down, and my constitution so irreparably decayed, that it will be absolutely impossible for me to discharge my ministerial duty.”“June 13.Weston is near Northampton; about two miles from the town; pleasantly situated on an agreeable eminence. My house is quite retired; so that we hear none of the tumultuous din of the world, and see nothing but the wonderful and charming works of the Creator. O! that I may be enabled to improve this advantageous solitude! I did, on the day your ladyship mentions, ascend the pulpit; and speak, for the space of half an hour, to my people. But with so much weakness! O! ’tis well that the eternal God does not want strength of lungs, or delicacy of elocution; but can do His great work of converting souls by the weakest, meanest instruments. If it was not so, I must absolutely despair of being successful in my labour, or serviceable in my office. I opened my commission to my new parishioners, from those words: ‘Preach the gospel to every creature’; and gave them to understand, that, the end of my preaching amongst them, the design of my conversation with them, and the principal aim of my whole life would be, to bring them acquainted with the truth, and assist them in attaining the great salvation.”“July 3.Advised by my friends, importuned by my relations, and swayed by a concern for the circumstances of a mother and sister who live with me, I have been prevailed on to take a second benefice.[203]This obliges me to set out for Cambridge without delay, in order to be created Master of Arts. From thence, I proceed to London, to get a dispensation from the Archbishop, and the seals from the Lord Chancellor. On Wednesday night, I hope to be in town; and, if I can get my business despatched by Saturday or Monday at the farthest, I may return soon enough to meet our Diocesan on his visitation at Northampton; receive institution there; and save myself the fatigue and expense of a journey to Peterborough. I was honoured with your ladyship’s letter, just as I returned from visiting my people at Collingtree: the parish which I served, when I lived with my father, and of which I am going to be rector. It would have pleased you to have observed how glad the honest folks were to see their old curate. And why were they glad? For no other reason, that I can conceive, but because I used to converse with them in private, just as I spoke to them from the pulpit; and endeavoured, at every interview, to set forward their eternal salvation. This, I find, is the grand secret, to win the affections of a flock. And in this, as in every other part of true Christianity, our interest and our duty are connected.”“July 11.I think your ladyship’s objection was very just and weighty. I fancy it would be most advisable to send the little piece” (his Remarkson Bolingbroke) “abroad under my own name; as the acceptance, which my other Essays have found from the public, may promote the spread of this. And, I apprehend, my bookseller would give me something for the copy; which, at this juncture, would scarcely be consistent with prudence to neglect. The expense of taking my two livings is very great. It will cost me, I am told, six score pounds; and though, I believe, I have money enough in the bank, produced by my selling the property of my ‘Meditations,’ yet such a succour would be welcome and serviceable. Will your ladyship lend your name, either at full length or in initial letters, to dignify and recommend the performance? I humbly submit this proposal to your ladyship’s determination: and shall be obliged, if you allow it; and shall acquiesce, if you reject it.”

“May 23.I am just arrived at Weston, after a pleasant journey, in an easy coach, and cool weather. I am much fatigued, though we allowed two days for about seventy miles. Thanks are due to your ladyship for making my Letter[201]acceptable to others, by approving it yourself, and honouring it with your recommendation. I humbly bless God, if He pleases to give it favour in the eyes of others; and should think it the highest privilege, if He would vouchsafe to render it at all serviceable to their best interests; especially to such a distinguished and illustrious personage as the Princess of W⸺. I assure you, my lady, I have not the least aversion to print any production of mine, in case better judges should think it might tend to maintain the honour of the Bible, or endear that inestimable book to mankind. All I fear is, lest acute but irreligious minds should discover some weak sentiment; should find some flaw in the argument; and take occasion to wound the Redeemer, and vilify His truths, through my inadvertence. Be so good, my lady, as to make my very respectful compliments acceptable to Dr. Hales,[202]and inform him of my suspicions. If he would please to revise the little essay, and should think the ‘Remarks’ will stand the test of a rigorous examination, my scruples would be very much abated. I believe, I durst undertake to vindicate all the observations, that are of a critical nature, with regard to the original language, or of an historic nature with regard to fact. Whether I offend against the rules of polite and genteel demeanour, your ladyship is the best judge. If your ladyship, or the Dr., should persist in your opinion, I wish you would be so good as to get the paper transcribed (no matter how close it is written) and transmitted to me in a frank; for I have no copy of it, only in some incoherent minutes in shorthand.

“I know not what the Lord will do with me, or how I shall proceed.My strength is so worn down, and my constitution so irreparably decayed, that it will be absolutely impossible for me to discharge my ministerial duty.”

“June 13.Weston is near Northampton; about two miles from the town; pleasantly situated on an agreeable eminence. My house is quite retired; so that we hear none of the tumultuous din of the world, and see nothing but the wonderful and charming works of the Creator. O! that I may be enabled to improve this advantageous solitude! I did, on the day your ladyship mentions, ascend the pulpit; and speak, for the space of half an hour, to my people. But with so much weakness! O! ’tis well that the eternal God does not want strength of lungs, or delicacy of elocution; but can do His great work of converting souls by the weakest, meanest instruments. If it was not so, I must absolutely despair of being successful in my labour, or serviceable in my office. I opened my commission to my new parishioners, from those words: ‘Preach the gospel to every creature’; and gave them to understand, that, the end of my preaching amongst them, the design of my conversation with them, and the principal aim of my whole life would be, to bring them acquainted with the truth, and assist them in attaining the great salvation.”

“July 3.Advised by my friends, importuned by my relations, and swayed by a concern for the circumstances of a mother and sister who live with me, I have been prevailed on to take a second benefice.[203]This obliges me to set out for Cambridge without delay, in order to be created Master of Arts. From thence, I proceed to London, to get a dispensation from the Archbishop, and the seals from the Lord Chancellor. On Wednesday night, I hope to be in town; and, if I can get my business despatched by Saturday or Monday at the farthest, I may return soon enough to meet our Diocesan on his visitation at Northampton; receive institution there; and save myself the fatigue and expense of a journey to Peterborough. I was honoured with your ladyship’s letter, just as I returned from visiting my people at Collingtree: the parish which I served, when I lived with my father, and of which I am going to be rector. It would have pleased you to have observed how glad the honest folks were to see their old curate. And why were they glad? For no other reason, that I can conceive, but because I used to converse with them in private, just as I spoke to them from the pulpit; and endeavoured, at every interview, to set forward their eternal salvation. This, I find, is the grand secret, to win the affections of a flock. And in this, as in every other part of true Christianity, our interest and our duty are connected.”

“July 11.I think your ladyship’s objection was very just and weighty. I fancy it would be most advisable to send the little piece” (his Remarkson Bolingbroke) “abroad under my own name; as the acceptance, which my other Essays have found from the public, may promote the spread of this. And, I apprehend, my bookseller would give me something for the copy; which, at this juncture, would scarcely be consistent with prudence to neglect. The expense of taking my two livings is very great. It will cost me, I am told, six score pounds; and though, I believe, I have money enough in the bank, produced by my selling the property of my ‘Meditations,’ yet such a succour would be welcome and serviceable. Will your ladyship lend your name, either at full length or in initial letters, to dignify and recommend the performance? I humbly submit this proposal to your ladyship’s determination: and shall be obliged, if you allow it; and shall acquiesce, if you reject it.”

Hervey visited the metropolis, and, on his return to Weston-Favel, had a near escape from an untimely death. He writes:—

“August 2.Very early on Wednesday morning, I set out for Northampton, in a new machine, calledThe Berlin; which holds four passengers, is drawn by a pair of horses, and driven in the manner of a post-chaise. On this side Newport, we came up with a stage-coach, and made an attempt to pass it. This the coachman perceiving, mended his pace; which provoked the driver of theBerlinto do the same, till they both lashed their horses into a full career; and were more like running a race, than conveying passengers. We very narrowly escaped falling foul on each other’s wheels. I called out to the fellows; but to no purpose. Within the space of a minute or two, what I apprehended happened. My vehicle was overturned, and thrown with great violence on the ground. The coachman was tossed off his box, and lay bleeding in the road. There was only one person in the coach, and none but myself in theBerlin; yet, neither of us (so tender was the care of Divine Providence!) sustained any considerable hurt. I received only a slight bruise, and had the skin razed from my leg, where I might too reasonably have feared the misfortune of broken bones, dislocated limbs, or a fractured skull.”

Hervey was now instituted, by the Bishop of Peterborough, in his second living, and opened his commission, among his new parishioners, by preaching from the text,—“To me, who am less than the least of all saints, is this grace given, that, I should preach among the Gentiles the unsearchable riches of Christ.” He also sent to the press his “Remarks on Lord Bolingbroke’s Letters,” which, in the month of November, were published. He solicited Lady Frances Shirley to favour him with the criticisms of her friends; and, on December 5, 1752, wrote to her as follows:—

“I am much obliged to your Ladyship for taking the trouble of transmitting the sentiments of your critical acquaintance. If I live to write another letter, I will return my opinion with relation to them. This is designedly short; to correspond with my weak state of health. For I am again confined; though, blessed be God! not ‘in durance vile,’ I preached on Sunday; and renewed my cold; so that this morning I have lost my voice. What a dying life is mine! Every blast pierces me, and every cold crushes me. Blessed, for ever blessed be God! for a better life and happier state in the heavens. Where we shall be languid no more; and be ungrateful to Jesus no more; and sin against God no more.”

To another friend, a few days later, he wrote:—

“December 14, 1752.—Your approbation of anything in my ‘Remarks,’ will give me singular satisfaction; yet, I should be no less obliged for your free thoughts, on what should have been added, expunged, or altered. Point out my blemishes, and supply my defects. Applause may be more soothing to my vanity; but such kind corrections will be more pleasing to my judgment, and more serviceable to our common cause. It is scarce probable, that, a second edition should be published, as the first was numerous; but, if there should be such a demand, I am sure, your animadversions would enrich and ennoble it. As an author, I would aim, singly aim at the glory of my Divine Master, and the furtherance of His everlasting Gospel. Nevertheless, I would, by no means, neglect the recommendations of a graceful composition. I would be glad to have the apples of gold, which are the truths of our holy religion, set in pictures of silver. Generally speaking, human nature must be pleased, in order to be profited. The wisest of men ‘sought and found out acceptable words,’ even when that which was written, was the truth of God.”

In these extracts, the reader may find the reasons why Hervey became a pluralist. The thing cannot be commended; but, perhaps, in his case, it may be pardoned. He himself disliked it; but the circumstances of his widowed mother and fatherless sister, the importunity of his relatives, and the advice of his friends, overcame his righteous repugnance. At one time, he seems to have entertained the idea of giving one of the livings to his friend Dr. Stonehouse;[204]but this was abandoned; and Hervey placed himself in the extremely objectionable position of holding two ecclesiastical benefices instead of only one. It is true, that, the united populations of Weston-Favel and Collingtree were not more than about six hundred souls; and that the income of the two livings was only about £180 a year; but the question is,was it absolutely wrong, in every case, to become a pluralist? If it was not, Hervey was excusable, for, though £180 then was worth more than £600 now, the presentation to the two benefices was his own hereditary property, and, subject to the law of the land, he had a right to do as he liked with it. Still, the being a pluralist was an ugly fact. Churches have always objected to it. Even as early as the thirteenth century, at the Lateran council, holding more than one benefice was expressly forbidden, by a canon, under the penalty of deprivation; the same canon, however, granting the pope a power to dispense with it in favour of persons of distinguished merit. The practical result was, there were so many found with a title to this merit, that the prohibition became useless. In this way, the holding of more benefices than one, became legal; and such was the existing state of things in the time of Hervey. The law of the land created difficulties; but they were far from being insuperable. Two certificates had to be obtained from the bishop of the Diocese, one for the Archbishop, and the other for the Lord Chancellor. Testimonials, also, had to be procured, from the neighbouring clergy, concerning the presentee’s behaviour and conversation. He must also exhibit to the Archbishop, not only his letters of order of deacon and priest, but also a certificate of his having taken the degree of Master of Arts at the least, in one of the Universities of the realm. These and other preliminaries had to be observed; after which, if the Archbishop was satisfied, the dispensation was granted (not by the pope as in former days, but), by the Faculty Office; it was then confirmed under the broad seal of the Lord Chancellor; and, finally, the affair was completed, by an application to the bishop of the diocese where the living was situated, for the presentee’s admission and institution into his second cure of souls. Hervey had to pass through the whole of this worrying process; and, beside other expenses, had to pay a stamp duty of £30 for every skin, or paper, or parchment, on which his dispensation was engrossed. No wonder, that, he speaks of it as having cost him “six score pounds.” For five hundred years, or more, plurality of benefices had been an ecclesiastical disgrace; and, though, perhaps, permissible in a case like Hervey’s, it adds no lustre to his fame, and was not obtainablewithout handsome fees to the highest authorities of the English Church and State.

There is another fact, belonging to this period of Hervey’s history, too curious to be omitted. Every one knows, that, Whitefield believed, that, the keeping of slaves was sanctioned by the Scriptures; that, hot countries could not be cultivated without negroes; and, that, the lives of numbers of white people had been destroyed in Georgia, and large amounts of money wasted, for want of negro labour. Holding such principles, Whitefield, in 1751, bought a number of slaves, partly to cultivate the land attached to his Orphan House, in Georgia: and partly to instruct them, and to make them Christians.[205]Strange to say, the gentle Hervey approved of this procedure; and having, during his residence in London, largely shared in Whitefield’s hospitality, he gave to him, as a souvenir on leaving,—what? A slave! Hence the following:—

“When you please to demand, my brother will pay you £30, for the purchase of a Negro. And may the Lord Jesus Christ give you, or rather take for Himself, the precious soul of the poor slave!”

Whitefield readily acquiesced. His answer, referring to other matters as well as this, was as follows:—

“London,June 9, 1752.“My very dear Friend,—I have received and read your manuscripts;[206]but for me to play the critic upon them, would be like holding up a candle to the sun. However, before I leave town, I will just mark a few places as you desire, and then send the manuscripts to your brother. I foretell their fate: nothing but your scenery can screen you. Self will never bear to die, though slain in so genteel a manner, without showing some resentment against its artful murderer.“You are resolved not to die in my debt. I think to call your intended purchaseWeston, and shall take care to remind him by whose means he was brought under the everlasting Gospel.“O that Doctor Stonehouse may be brought out to preach it! If you do not take the other living” (Collingtree) “yourself, I think your giving it to the Doctor is a glorious scheme.“Your brother has been so kind as to let me have the little mare again.My Master walked,—I ride, to preach the glorious Gospel. Whether riding or walking, Lord Jesus, let my whole heart be taken up with Thee!“Adieu, my dearest sir, adieu. Cease not to pray for“Ever yours whilst“George Whitefield.”

“London,June 9, 1752.

“My very dear Friend,—I have received and read your manuscripts;[206]but for me to play the critic upon them, would be like holding up a candle to the sun. However, before I leave town, I will just mark a few places as you desire, and then send the manuscripts to your brother. I foretell their fate: nothing but your scenery can screen you. Self will never bear to die, though slain in so genteel a manner, without showing some resentment against its artful murderer.

“You are resolved not to die in my debt. I think to call your intended purchaseWeston, and shall take care to remind him by whose means he was brought under the everlasting Gospel.

“O that Doctor Stonehouse may be brought out to preach it! If you do not take the other living” (Collingtree) “yourself, I think your giving it to the Doctor is a glorious scheme.

“Your brother has been so kind as to let me have the little mare again.My Master walked,—I ride, to preach the glorious Gospel. Whether riding or walking, Lord Jesus, let my whole heart be taken up with Thee!

“Adieu, my dearest sir, adieu. Cease not to pray for

“Ever yours whilst

“George Whitefield.”

One other letter from Whitefield may fitly close the year 1752. Whitefield had read Hervey’s “Remarks on Bolingbroke,” and now wished him to publish his “Theron and Aspasio.”

“London,November 14, 1752.“My very dear Friend,—”God will bless you for vindicating the honour of His sacred volumes in your last pamphlet, for which, as for all other unmerited favours, I most heartily thank you. I have just now read it, and doubt not of its being greatly blessed and owned, and going through many editions. I cannot discern any errata or inaccuracies in the composition. Surely, God hath raised my dear friend up, to let the polite world see how amiable are the doctrines of the Gospel. Why will you weary the world, and your friends, by delaying to publish your other long wished-for performance.[207]I shall be glad to peruse any of the Dialogues. The savour of the last is not of my mind. Pray let them see the light this winter. They will delight and warm many a heart.“My dear, very dear friend, good-night. My kind respects await your mother and sister. My wife, who is quite an invalid, joins heartily with me, who am, my very dear sir, yours most affectionately in our common Lord,“George Whitefield.”

“London,November 14, 1752.

“My very dear Friend,—”God will bless you for vindicating the honour of His sacred volumes in your last pamphlet, for which, as for all other unmerited favours, I most heartily thank you. I have just now read it, and doubt not of its being greatly blessed and owned, and going through many editions. I cannot discern any errata or inaccuracies in the composition. Surely, God hath raised my dear friend up, to let the polite world see how amiable are the doctrines of the Gospel. Why will you weary the world, and your friends, by delaying to publish your other long wished-for performance.[207]I shall be glad to peruse any of the Dialogues. The savour of the last is not of my mind. Pray let them see the light this winter. They will delight and warm many a heart.

“My dear, very dear friend, good-night. My kind respects await your mother and sister. My wife, who is quite an invalid, joins heartily with me, who am, my very dear sir, yours most affectionately in our common Lord,

“George Whitefield.”

Though so feeble and delicate, Hervey tried to preach twice every Sunday. His ministry also was popular and attractive, his churches being crowded to excess, and the windows sometimes removed, that, the people outside might hear. His style was familiar, and adapted to the congregations to whom he preached; and, of course, his sentiments were Calvinistical. “You have observed,” said he, about this period of his history, “the walls on either side of the path leading to this church. They are covered, as you know, with ivy. Now, you may pluck off the leaves, and break off the branches, so that none of them shall be seen on the outside; but the roots of the plant have so worked themselves into the wall, that, it would be impossible entirely to eradicate themwithout taking down the wall, and not leaving one stone upon another. And so must this frail body be taken down; and then, and not till then, shall we get rid of the remains of a degenerate nature.”[208]

Hervey’s metaphor was striking; but metaphors are not arguments.

To employ his own expressions, Hervey began the year 1753 in “ill-health and weak spirits, which cramped his mind, and unnerved his hand.” He was “sadly indisposed; languid and dispirited; out of humour with himself, and displeased with his own thoughts.”

His “Theron and Aspasio” was now the chief and almost only occupation of his leisure hours. A part of the work was sent to Whitefield for revisal. Hence the following:—

“London,January 27, 1753.“My very dear Friend,—I thank you a thousand times for the trouble you have been at, in revising my poor compositions, which, I am afraid, you have not treated with becoming severity.“How many pardons shall I ask for mangling, and, I fear, murdering your dear ‘Theron and Aspasio?’ You will see by Monday’s coach; which will bring a parcel directed for you. It contains one of your ‘Dialogues,’ and two more of my sermons; which I do not like very well myself, and, therefore, shall not wonder if you dislike them. If you think they will do for the public, pray return them immediately, because the other two go to the press next Monday. I have nothing to comfort me but this, ‘that the Lord chooses the weak things of this world to confound the strong; and things, that are not, to bring to nought things that are. I think to sell all four sermons for sixpence. I write for the poor; you for the polite and noble. God will assuredly own and bless what you write.“As yet, I have only had time to peruse one of your sweet ‘Dialogues.’ As fast as possible, I shall read the rest. I am more than paid for my trouble by reading them.“The Lord be with your dear heart! Continue to pray for me. The Lord be with us! Grace! Grace!“I am, dearest sir, in very great haste, but greater love,“Yours, etc.,“George Whitefield.”

“London,January 27, 1753.

“My very dear Friend,—I thank you a thousand times for the trouble you have been at, in revising my poor compositions, which, I am afraid, you have not treated with becoming severity.

“How many pardons shall I ask for mangling, and, I fear, murdering your dear ‘Theron and Aspasio?’ You will see by Monday’s coach; which will bring a parcel directed for you. It contains one of your ‘Dialogues,’ and two more of my sermons; which I do not like very well myself, and, therefore, shall not wonder if you dislike them. If you think they will do for the public, pray return them immediately, because the other two go to the press next Monday. I have nothing to comfort me but this, ‘that the Lord chooses the weak things of this world to confound the strong; and things, that are not, to bring to nought things that are. I think to sell all four sermons for sixpence. I write for the poor; you for the polite and noble. God will assuredly own and bless what you write.

“As yet, I have only had time to peruse one of your sweet ‘Dialogues.’ As fast as possible, I shall read the rest. I am more than paid for my trouble by reading them.

“The Lord be with your dear heart! Continue to pray for me. The Lord be with us! Grace! Grace!

“I am, dearest sir, in very great haste, but greater love,

“Yours, etc.,

“George Whitefield.”

Doddridge was dead, and beyond the reach of consultation; but Hervey now became acquainted with another eminent dissenter,—John Ryland, the well-known Baptist minister,—whobecame the intimate friend of the Rector of Weston-Favel, and one of his most trusted advisers. In a letter, dated “February 3, 1753,” Hervey sent to Ryland a rough outline of his “Theron and Aspasio,” and said,

“My piece is, as yet, only in embryo. Will you, dear sir, contribute your assistance to ripen the design, and bring it to the birth? With this view, I send you my four first dialogues. They are very incorrect, and shamefully blotted.[209]The first fault your pen will mend; the second your candour will excuse. But, instead of making any more apologies, give me leave to lay before you a plan of the whole scheme,” etc.[210]

Hervey was almost fastidious in his literary tastes; and, hence, his habit of asking his friends to revise his manuscripts previous to their being printed. There can be no question, that, he went further, in this respect, than he need have done. Whitefield was a glorious evangelist; but made no pretensions to being a man of letters. Ryland was a strong-minded man; but not an accomplished scribe. The Countess of Huntingdon, in some respects, was one of the most remarkable women that ever lived; but polite literature was not the orbit in which she shone. And, yet, Hervey sought “friendly corrections” from the coroneted lady as well as from the great itinerant, and the Baptist minister. Hence, the following:—

“Your ladyship is pleased to express a wish, that, I should proceed, without delay, in finishing my intended work. Be assured, your wishes, madam, have all the force of a command with me. I send you the first four ‘Dialogues,’ beseeching you to peruse them, not with the partiality of a friend, but the severity of a critic. The like request I have made of others, and have received their friendly corrections. I am deeply sensible of my own deficiencies, and, in order, therefore, to render my work, if possible, fit for public view—meet for the Master’s use, I shall feel obliged by any corrections or improvements, which your pen may make. Your ladyship is at liberty to show the manuscript to whom you please. Your remarks, and those of your friends, may supply the sterility of my invention, and the poverty of my language. If you really approve of what I have sketched, I shall be encouraged to proceed in my work. May I not hope for the honour of dedicating it to your ladyship? It would give me singular pleasure to have any work of my pen patronised by the Countess of Huntingdon.”[211]

Lady Huntingdon sympathized with the design of Hervey’s book; claimed the assistance of all those whom she considered capable of suggesting improvements and useful hints; and transmitted their observations to the author; but declined the offered dedication. Hervey writes:—

“July 14, 1753.“Madam,—Accept my thanks, for taking the trouble of perusing my very imperfect manuscript, and my grateful acknowledgments, for the improving touches and remarks you have made, as well as for those of your highly valuable friends and acquaintances. The corrections will be exceedingly beneficial to the work, and render it more acceptable to the public in general. But, I confess, I feel disappointed at your ladyship’s declining to patronise the public attempt of my pen; nevertheless, your observations are so sensible and just, that, I cannot think of pressing the matter on your attention, further than to solicit your prayers for the success of the undertaking, and for the unworthy author.”[212]

“July 14, 1753.

“Madam,—Accept my thanks, for taking the trouble of perusing my very imperfect manuscript, and my grateful acknowledgments, for the improving touches and remarks you have made, as well as for those of your highly valuable friends and acquaintances. The corrections will be exceedingly beneficial to the work, and render it more acceptable to the public in general. But, I confess, I feel disappointed at your ladyship’s declining to patronise the public attempt of my pen; nevertheless, your observations are so sensible and just, that, I cannot think of pressing the matter on your attention, further than to solicit your prayers for the success of the undertaking, and for the unworthy author.”[212]

Writing, on the same subject, to Mr. Ryland, Hervey says:—

“Weston-Favel,March 17, 1753.“My dear Friend,—I thank you, for the trouble of perusing my very imperfect manuscripts; and I desire Mr. Medley to accept my very grateful acknowledgments for the improving remarks he has made. I beg of him to proceed, and to use the same kind of severity with the other sketches. I am sensible, the pointing is inaccurate; and shall be much obliged for every correction in this particular. It will be no less beneficial to my piece, if he pleases to make free use of the pruning knife. Prolixity, upon such a subject, will infallibly create disgust, especially with the polite, for whose perusal and whose service, I would wish my attempt was properly calculated. I don’t pretend, nor indeed do I wish, to write onenewtruth. The utmost of my aim is, to represent old doctrines in a pleasing light, and dress them in a fashionable or genteel manner.”[213]

“Weston-Favel,March 17, 1753.

“My dear Friend,—I thank you, for the trouble of perusing my very imperfect manuscripts; and I desire Mr. Medley to accept my very grateful acknowledgments for the improving remarks he has made. I beg of him to proceed, and to use the same kind of severity with the other sketches. I am sensible, the pointing is inaccurate; and shall be much obliged for every correction in this particular. It will be no less beneficial to my piece, if he pleases to make free use of the pruning knife. Prolixity, upon such a subject, will infallibly create disgust, especially with the polite, for whose perusal and whose service, I would wish my attempt was properly calculated. I don’t pretend, nor indeed do I wish, to write onenewtruth. The utmost of my aim is, to represent old doctrines in a pleasing light, and dress them in a fashionable or genteel manner.”[213]

Such extracts as these are not without interest. They show, that, Hervey, unlike his friends Wesley and Whitefield, wrote not so much for the masses of the people as for the educated and genteel; and, that, he was intensely anxious to have his publications, in a literary point of view, as perfect as possible.

It was in May, 1752, that, Hervey, in broken health, succeeded his father as Rector of Weston-Favel. Twelve months afterwards, he was called upon to preach, at the visitation of the Archdeacon of Peterborough, in All Saints Church, Northampton. Writing to Lady Frances Shirley, he says,—

“1753, May 10.I am now setting out for Northampton, where I am to preach the visitation sermon. I know not how I shall speak, so as to be heard, in that very large and lofty church. May the Lord God Omnipotent make His strength perfect, in my extreme weakness. O! for the eloquence of an Apollos, and the fervour of a Boanerges! I am quite ashamed of my poor, jejune, spiritless, composition; and I am no less ashamed of my unbelief, that, I dare not trust God for utterance; but, before an audience that is critical, forsooth must use my notes.”

Hervey’s text, on this occasion, was, “God forbid, that, I should glory,” etc. (Gal. vi. 14); and the sermon was the first he published. Though not remarkable for either learning or argument, it was thoroughly evangelical and faithful; and, unless the belief and practice of the clergy there assembled were exceptional, it must have been somewhat startling. It was the sermon of aMethodist; andMethodist sermonsthen were seldom heard in the Established Church.

Preaching it was a duty; publishing it was an act of charity. Hence the following:—

“1753, May 19.I have lately been somewhat busied in preparing a sermon to be preached before the clergy, at our Archdeacon’s visitation; and, to my weak nerves and languid spirits, a little business is a toil. A commentator, with whom I wish you may long be unacquainted, has taught me the meaning of Solomon’s description, ‘The grasshopper shall be a burden.’ The sermon, though perfectly plain and artless, is in the press. It is printed for the relief of a poor afflicted child, as a short advertisement will inform the world. The person, to whose management it is consigned, has given orders for an impression of two thousand; besides a hundred and fifty, which I have bespoken for myself.”

Printed sermons have seldom been popular; but the adventure, in this instance, succeeded. “I have no business going forward with the printer,” wrote Hervey, in a letter to Lady Frances Shirley, on July 15, 1753.

“My last little essay would have remained in the obscurity of shorthand, if the father of the afflicted youth had not importuned me to send my sermon on a begging errand. I gave it him as a kind of lottery ticket,not without some hopes and many prayers, that it might meet with success, and come up a prize. Nor have I reason to repent; for, though he printed two thousand, he tells me they are almost all sold.”

An extract from another letter may be welcome. It refers, not only to this visitation sermon, but to Hervey’s parochial labours.

“Weston-Favel,October 28, 1753.“I have, this afternoon, been preaching to a crowded audience. You would be surprised, and, I believe, every body wonders that I am able to officiate for myself. I am so weak that I can hardly walk to the end of my parish, though a small one; and so tender, that I dare not visit my poor neighbours, for fear of catching cold in their bleak houses. Yet, I am enabled, on the Lord’s-day, to catechise, and expound to my children in the morning, and to preach in the afternoon. Every Wednesday evening (hay-time and harvest only excepted) I read prayers, and give them a lecture-sermon in Weston church. This is the Lord’s doing, or, as your favourite book expresses it, this is owing to ‘the good hand of my God upon me.’“God has been pleased to pity the poor youth, for whose relief the visitation-sermon, I preached at Northampton, was printed. An edition of two thousand is disposed of; and the manager, for the distressed object, is venturing upon another edition. See, dear sir, if God will bless, who can blast? If He will further, what can obstruct? A feather, a straw, if He pleases to command, shall be a polished shaft in His quiver. Trust not, therefore, in eloquence or argument, in depth of thought or beauty of style, all of which are confessedly wanting in the present case; but ‘trust ye in the Lord for ever, for in the Lord Jehovah is everlasting strength.’”

“Weston-Favel,October 28, 1753.

“I have, this afternoon, been preaching to a crowded audience. You would be surprised, and, I believe, every body wonders that I am able to officiate for myself. I am so weak that I can hardly walk to the end of my parish, though a small one; and so tender, that I dare not visit my poor neighbours, for fear of catching cold in their bleak houses. Yet, I am enabled, on the Lord’s-day, to catechise, and expound to my children in the morning, and to preach in the afternoon. Every Wednesday evening (hay-time and harvest only excepted) I read prayers, and give them a lecture-sermon in Weston church. This is the Lord’s doing, or, as your favourite book expresses it, this is owing to ‘the good hand of my God upon me.’

“God has been pleased to pity the poor youth, for whose relief the visitation-sermon, I preached at Northampton, was printed. An edition of two thousand is disposed of; and the manager, for the distressed object, is venturing upon another edition. See, dear sir, if God will bless, who can blast? If He will further, what can obstruct? A feather, a straw, if He pleases to command, shall be a polished shaft in His quiver. Trust not, therefore, in eloquence or argument, in depth of thought or beauty of style, all of which are confessedly wanting in the present case; but ‘trust ye in the Lord for ever, for in the Lord Jehovah is everlasting strength.’”

Another glimpse of Hervey, in the midst of his rustic congregations, is furnished by a letter written by one of Whitefield’s preachers.

“Last Sabbath-day, I rode to hear Mr. Hervey at Collingtree; and, to my great surprise as well as satisfaction, having never seen such a thing before in prayer-time, instead of singing psalms, they sung two of Dr. Watts’ hymns, the clerk giving them out line by line. After prayer, without going out of the desk, the minister put off his surplice, and expounded the Second Lesson of the day. And then, without going up into the pulpit, he read Ephesians v. 25-27, and spoke from them very sweetly and clearly. He expounds every Wednesday night, at the same church; preaches twice on the Sabbath; catechizes the children; and meets some people on Tuesdays and Thursdays, in or near the parish where his father preached.”[214]

There was no high-church ritualism here; but a godly pastor making himself at home among his poor parishioners, and simply and earnestly trying to promote the spiritual and eternal welfare of them and of their children.

In his enfeebled health, the wonder is how Hervey managed to undertake so many of these rural services. And yet, while thus faithfully discharging his duties as a parish priest, he was, if not an extensive reader, a most diligent student of the holy Bible, and a conscientious cultivator of literary æsthetics. Wesley, when an old man, remarked,—

“Icouldeven now write as floridly and rhetorically as even the admired Dr. R⸺; but, I dare not, because I seek the honour that cometh of God only. What is the praise of men tome, that have one foot in the grave, and am stepping into the land whence I shall not return. Therefore I dare no more write in afine stylethan wear a fine coat. But were it otherwise, had I time to spare, I should still write as I do. I should purposely decline, what many admire, a highly ornamental style. I cannot admire French oratory; I despise it from my heart.”

It was otherwise with Hervey. Of set purpose, he cultivated the “fine style” of writing. Wesley wrote for themasses; Hervey for theéliteof human society.

“My writings,” said he, “are not fit for ordinary people; I never give them to such persons, and dissuade this class of men from procuring them. O that they may be of some service to the more refined part of the world!”[215]

Wesley and Hervey were equally conscientious; and opinions will differ concerning the wisdom of their different decisions; though all will probably admit, that, if Wesley’s writings had less of scholastic learning, sonorousness, and rhythm, they had vastly more point and power than those of his old Oxford friend. Still, both acted from the purest motive; and it is in such a light that their respective merits should be judged. In a letter to a friend, dated, “Weston-Favel, August 18, 1753,” Hervey writes:—

“I wish you had taken minutes of what you saw most remarkable in your tour through Westmoreland and Cumberland. Described in your language, and embellished with your imagination, an account of thesecounties might be highly pleasing to all; and, grafted with religious improvements, might be equally edifying. Such kind of writings suit the present taste. We don’t love close thinking. That is most likely to win our approbation, which extenuates the fancy, without fatiguing the attention. Since this is the disposition of the age, let us endeavour to catch men by guile; turn even a foible to their advantage; and bait the gospel hook agreeably to the prevailing taste. In this sense, ‘become all things to all men.’”

Hervey was now possessed of a large and varied library; but, like Wesley, he was, to a great extent, “homo unius libri.”

“My library,” says he, “is composed of the books collected by my father and grandfather; among which there are multitudes, that I shall continue a stranger to as long as I live, though they stand at my right hand and my left every day. I want to be better acquainted with God’s holy word; to have its inestimable truths lodged in my memory, its heavenly doctrines impressed upon my heart; that my tempers may take their fashion from it; that my private conversation may be seasoned with it; and my public ministrations enriched by it. Thus, dear sir, may the word of Christ dwell in us richly! I am, what people would call, a moderate Calvinist; but, I assure you, I can bear, I shall delight to have, my notions sifted; nor am I so attached to any favourite scheme, but I can readily relinquish it, when Scripture and reason convince me it is wrong.”

Hervey’s “Theron and Aspasio,”—by far the greatest work of his short life,—was now nearly completed; and his time was chiefly occupied in putting it through the press. All kinds of friends were consulted; and their revisions and emendations solicited. The book was too bulky, and yet Hervey was at his wits’ end to make it less. Postage of proof-sheets was heavy; and compositors and printers were dilatory to a most worrying extent. The year throughout was a trying one, especially to a valetudinarian like Hervey. Brief extracts from his letters will best illustrate what we mean.

“1754, May 4.” Writing to Mr. Ryland, Hervey says,—

“My bookseller tells me, it will be impossible to comprise my essay in less than three volumes of the ‘Meditations’ size. It is much against my inclination to exceed the quantity of two volumes; but, I believe, I must submit, or else we shall cramp the design, and mutilate the plan.”[216]“May 20. I send two or three manuscripts, and beg of you to exercise the same frankness of admiration, and the same impartiality of censure upon them. My bookseller tells me, it cannot be comprised in less than three volumes. I have always had an aversion to so diffusive a work. Many will not have ability to purchase them; many not have leisure to read them; and to some, I fear, the very sight of three volumes would be like loads of meat to a squeamish stomach. Yet, I cannot contract the work, without omitting those parts which are intended to entertain the reader, keep him in good humour, and allure or bribe him to go on. What would you advise? I send ‘Letters,’ eight, nine, ten, and eleven; and ‘Dialogues,’ fifteen and seventeen. Do, my dear sir, improve, polish, and enrich them. I am, this day, a prisoner in my chamber, and write in much pain. Blessed be God for that world, where all tears will be wiped away from our eyes, and there will be no more pain.”“May 30. I send herewith four of my ‘Dialogues,’ which I beg of you to examine with a kind severity. I do assure you, I can bear to receive censure from a friend, and will kiss the lips that administer it, especially when it is intended to preserve my attempts to further the glorious gospel from the contempt of the public. I will, ere long, send you, in a frank, a general view of my plan, which, in the execution, is become too prolix, and cannot be comprehended in less than three volumes, unless some judicious friend will help me to curtail and abridge. I am very unwilling to publish a work consisting of three volumes; I apprehend this will obstruct the sale not a little.”

“May 20. I send two or three manuscripts, and beg of you to exercise the same frankness of admiration, and the same impartiality of censure upon them. My bookseller tells me, it cannot be comprised in less than three volumes. I have always had an aversion to so diffusive a work. Many will not have ability to purchase them; many not have leisure to read them; and to some, I fear, the very sight of three volumes would be like loads of meat to a squeamish stomach. Yet, I cannot contract the work, without omitting those parts which are intended to entertain the reader, keep him in good humour, and allure or bribe him to go on. What would you advise? I send ‘Letters,’ eight, nine, ten, and eleven; and ‘Dialogues,’ fifteen and seventeen. Do, my dear sir, improve, polish, and enrich them. I am, this day, a prisoner in my chamber, and write in much pain. Blessed be God for that world, where all tears will be wiped away from our eyes, and there will be no more pain.”

“May 30. I send herewith four of my ‘Dialogues,’ which I beg of you to examine with a kind severity. I do assure you, I can bear to receive censure from a friend, and will kiss the lips that administer it, especially when it is intended to preserve my attempts to further the glorious gospel from the contempt of the public. I will, ere long, send you, in a frank, a general view of my plan, which, in the execution, is become too prolix, and cannot be comprehended in less than three volumes, unless some judicious friend will help me to curtail and abridge. I am very unwilling to publish a work consisting of three volumes; I apprehend this will obstruct the sale not a little.”

“June 1.” In a letter to Lady Frances Shirley, Hervey writes,—

“May I promise myself the benefit of your opinion concerning the publication ofthreevolumes? As you know the taste and temper of the polite world, I should be much obliged for your advice. And I beg you will not flatter my vanity; but, if you think, thatthreevolumes on a religious subject will be insupportable, be so kind as to tell me plainly. I would fain write what may be acceptable, in order to write what may be useful; and, for my own part, I really am afraid, that, so large a work will be less likely to subserve such a design.”

In another letter, to the same lady, a fortnight afterwards, Hervey wrote:—

“June 16.I have still another scruple, which respects not the gay and splendid world, but the mean and penurious. I would gladly have my books in those hands, which hold the plough, and ply the distaff, because these persons are as nearly related to the all-creating God, and as highly beloved by the ever-blessed Jesus, as those who wear a crown, or wield a sceptre. But these will hardly be able to purchasethreevolumes. I thank your ladyship for your kind offer, in reference to the princess; but my work is so far from being ready to come abroad, that, it is not yet inthe press. The necessary preliminaries, one of which is the number of the volumes, are not settled; though, as to this particular, I begin to be pretty well satisfied.”“June 21.Before this arrives, I hope my ‘Dialogues’ will have received the free correction, and the friendly improvement of your pen. As, through my many and repeated infirmities, I had long discontinued and have often intermitted my intended work, I am informed, from London, that the abettors of the Socinian scheme have been pleased to triumph in my disappointment; imagining that, through fear or inability, I had laid aside my design, and insinuating, that, I had changed my principles, or was conscious of the weakness of my cause. From these gentlemen, if my essay should appear in public, it may expect a severe examination, and probably a violent attack. I hope your friendship will anticipate their inveteracy, and remove those blemishes, which might give them a handle for censure, or a ground for insult. What is your opinion, as to publishingthreevolumes? Mr. Moses Brown and another friend pronounce in the affirmative, though I am much afraid that this circumstance will clog the sale. There are several pieces that are a kind of excursion from the principal subject, calculated to relieve and entertain the reader, yet not without administering some spiritual benefit. A whole ‘Dialogue’ upon the wisdom, power, and goodness, displayed in the contrivance and formation of the human body. Two or three ‘Letters,’ pointing out the traces of the same grand and amiable attributes in the constitution of the earth, the air, and the ocean. These I am afraid to lop off, lest it should be like wiping the bloom from the plum, or taking the gold from the gingerbread. To you I say gingerbread, though I would not say so to the public, for I really think the taste of the present age is somewhat like the humour of children: their milk must be sugared, their wine spiced, and their necessary food garnished with flowers, and enriched with sweetmeats.”“July 8.I have had my bookseller’s opinion with relation to the number of copies proper to be printed, at which I am somewhat surprised, and must desire your advice. He says 5000 in small, and 750 in large, octavo. To this I have some objections. In the first place, the sale of such a prodigious quantity cannot be but hazardous, though, I must confess, I have no reason to distrust the goodness of that over-ruling Providence, to which I would humbly ascribe the acceptance of a preceding essay. This scruple, therefore, shall be set aside. But what think you of the following consideration? Errors and weaknesses, if such a number be printed at once, may never be corrected; whereas, if we publish half the proposed number, and a second edition is demanded, there may be an opportunity of correcting mistakes, and re-touching inaccuracies. May I not hope to receive a few hints for a Preface, in which I am advised to declare, that, it is my firm resolution to enter no farther into the controversy? with this view, that, in case the doctrines are attacked, other and abler champions may see a clear stage for their entrance.”[217]“July 13.Here are six ‘Dialogues.’ May God enable you to search them, as with a candle, and make them such as He will condescend to bless! I have dropped several objections and answers; yet, I fear, too many are still retained. A multiplicity of objects dissipates the attention either of the eye or mind. Are, what the painters call, the two unities preserved? one principal action and one grand point of view in each piece? Does Theron speak enough, or with such weight, and such a spice of thesal Atticus, as might suit his character? Here and there, a touch of wit or genteel satire in him, I think, would be grateful, especially in the first part, before he is brought to a conviction of his guilt?” “You can scarcely imagine what a demand there is for the book, even before publication. It makes me rejoice with trembling. I now feel the loss of our valuable friend, Dr. Doddridge, to whose judgment I ever paid the highest deference. I expect you will tell me my manuscript is very prolix; but I designedly made it so, that my friends may judge what is proper to be omitted. It is easier you know, to expunge than to compose. I wish they would, with a leaden pencil, enclose in a parenthesis what they would have dropped. I hope to retrench one-fourth of the copy.”September 28.I have to request the honour of your name, to dignify and recommend my book, which has been, for a considerable time, committed to the press. It will, I believe, be entitled ‘Theron and Aspasio; or, a Series of Dialogues and Letters, upon the mostImportantandInterestingSubjects.’ The whole will constitute three volumes. It will, I apprehend, make its appearance about the time appointed for the meeting of the Parliament; and I know no person whose name will give the author more satisfaction, or be a higher recommendation to his performance, than your ladyship’s.“[218]“November 24.You have highly obliged me, in permitting me to grace my work with your name. I have been, ever since I received your ladyship’s letter, engaged to keep no less than eight hands constantly employed in printing, which has taken up all my time. Be so kind, madam, as to favour me with your advice, whether I should present the book to the princess.[219]I must, I apprehend, present it to the prince’s preceptor,[220]because he is our diocesan, and treated me in a very genteel manner, when I received institution from him. This is the last frank I have. Could you, Madam, accommodate me with a fresh supply? At this juncture a few of those vehicles would be very welcome and serviceable.”[221]

“June 21.Before this arrives, I hope my ‘Dialogues’ will have received the free correction, and the friendly improvement of your pen. As, through my many and repeated infirmities, I had long discontinued and have often intermitted my intended work, I am informed, from London, that the abettors of the Socinian scheme have been pleased to triumph in my disappointment; imagining that, through fear or inability, I had laid aside my design, and insinuating, that, I had changed my principles, or was conscious of the weakness of my cause. From these gentlemen, if my essay should appear in public, it may expect a severe examination, and probably a violent attack. I hope your friendship will anticipate their inveteracy, and remove those blemishes, which might give them a handle for censure, or a ground for insult. What is your opinion, as to publishingthreevolumes? Mr. Moses Brown and another friend pronounce in the affirmative, though I am much afraid that this circumstance will clog the sale. There are several pieces that are a kind of excursion from the principal subject, calculated to relieve and entertain the reader, yet not without administering some spiritual benefit. A whole ‘Dialogue’ upon the wisdom, power, and goodness, displayed in the contrivance and formation of the human body. Two or three ‘Letters,’ pointing out the traces of the same grand and amiable attributes in the constitution of the earth, the air, and the ocean. These I am afraid to lop off, lest it should be like wiping the bloom from the plum, or taking the gold from the gingerbread. To you I say gingerbread, though I would not say so to the public, for I really think the taste of the present age is somewhat like the humour of children: their milk must be sugared, their wine spiced, and their necessary food garnished with flowers, and enriched with sweetmeats.”

“July 8.I have had my bookseller’s opinion with relation to the number of copies proper to be printed, at which I am somewhat surprised, and must desire your advice. He says 5000 in small, and 750 in large, octavo. To this I have some objections. In the first place, the sale of such a prodigious quantity cannot be but hazardous, though, I must confess, I have no reason to distrust the goodness of that over-ruling Providence, to which I would humbly ascribe the acceptance of a preceding essay. This scruple, therefore, shall be set aside. But what think you of the following consideration? Errors and weaknesses, if such a number be printed at once, may never be corrected; whereas, if we publish half the proposed number, and a second edition is demanded, there may be an opportunity of correcting mistakes, and re-touching inaccuracies. May I not hope to receive a few hints for a Preface, in which I am advised to declare, that, it is my firm resolution to enter no farther into the controversy? with this view, that, in case the doctrines are attacked, other and abler champions may see a clear stage for their entrance.”[217]

“July 13.Here are six ‘Dialogues.’ May God enable you to search them, as with a candle, and make them such as He will condescend to bless! I have dropped several objections and answers; yet, I fear, too many are still retained. A multiplicity of objects dissipates the attention either of the eye or mind. Are, what the painters call, the two unities preserved? one principal action and one grand point of view in each piece? Does Theron speak enough, or with such weight, and such a spice of thesal Atticus, as might suit his character? Here and there, a touch of wit or genteel satire in him, I think, would be grateful, especially in the first part, before he is brought to a conviction of his guilt?” “You can scarcely imagine what a demand there is for the book, even before publication. It makes me rejoice with trembling. I now feel the loss of our valuable friend, Dr. Doddridge, to whose judgment I ever paid the highest deference. I expect you will tell me my manuscript is very prolix; but I designedly made it so, that my friends may judge what is proper to be omitted. It is easier you know, to expunge than to compose. I wish they would, with a leaden pencil, enclose in a parenthesis what they would have dropped. I hope to retrench one-fourth of the copy.”

September 28.I have to request the honour of your name, to dignify and recommend my book, which has been, for a considerable time, committed to the press. It will, I believe, be entitled ‘Theron and Aspasio; or, a Series of Dialogues and Letters, upon the mostImportantandInterestingSubjects.’ The whole will constitute three volumes. It will, I apprehend, make its appearance about the time appointed for the meeting of the Parliament; and I know no person whose name will give the author more satisfaction, or be a higher recommendation to his performance, than your ladyship’s.“[218]

“November 24.You have highly obliged me, in permitting me to grace my work with your name. I have been, ever since I received your ladyship’s letter, engaged to keep no less than eight hands constantly employed in printing, which has taken up all my time. Be so kind, madam, as to favour me with your advice, whether I should present the book to the princess.[219]I must, I apprehend, present it to the prince’s preceptor,[220]because he is our diocesan, and treated me in a very genteel manner, when I received institution from him. This is the last frank I have. Could you, Madam, accommodate me with a fresh supply? At this juncture a few of those vehicles would be very welcome and serviceable.”[221]

Again, a few days later, to the same lady, Hervey wrote:—

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