Quicunque fuerit narrandi locusDum capiat aurem, et servet propositum suum,Recommendatur, non auctoris nomine.CHAPTER XXVII.
Quicunque fuerit narrandi locusDum capiat aurem, et servet propositum suum,Recommendatur, non auctoris nomine.
Quicunque fuerit narrandi locusDum capiat aurem, et servet propositum suum,Recommendatur, non auctoris nomine.
Quicunque fuerit narrandi locusDum capiat aurem, et servet propositum suum,Recommendatur, non auctoris nomine.
Quicunque fuerit narrandi locus
Dum capiat aurem, et servet propositum suum,
Recommendatur, non auctoris nomine.
In no part of these pages will be found a more eccentric, and, at the same time, accomplished scholar and amiable man, than the individual, memorandums concerning whom, at this place present themselves.
His father was a sound theologian, and popular preacher. His various works on subjects of divinity still continue of high reputation. He was the intimate friend of Bishop Hoadley, Archbishop Herring, Dr. Clarke, and other illustrious members of our Church.
He left three sons, all of whom were greatly distinguished as scholars and divines. The youngest of these, Philip, with whom we have to do, was for a number of years intimately known to the Sexagenarian, and may, without impropriety, perhaps, be denominated his first literary patron.
Though considerably advanced in life, he took great pleasure in conversing with our friend, then very young, upon scholastic subjects, and afforded him much aid and encouragement in the prosecution of his literary pursuits. He had a valuable collection of classics, with which he was intimately conversant, many of the best of which he gave to hisprotegé. With respect to literature, his mind was somewhat of a singular cast. He knew nothing of modern languages, and in fact despised them. He had the same feelings as to the Belles Lettres. Latin and Greek authors comprised all that he studied; the Septuagint and Greek Testament all that he venerated.
A few of our old divines, and more particularly Bishop Hoadley, Dr. Clarke, and his father, were high in his estimation; but, generally speaking, he had rather the disposition to despise all modern writers.
His habits of life partook of the singularities of his opinions. Every day, when the weather permitted, he took a very long walk of many miles with his wife, whose personal appearance, character, and manners, were little, if at all less eccentric than those of her husband.
But the information or amusement communicated on either side could not be very great, for the gentleman invariably walked at least a hundred yards in advance.
He lived plainly, but exceedingly well, allowing himself a bottle of wine every day, about his management of which, he was also remarkably whimsical. He had no wine-cellar, but every day, within half an hour of dinner, his servant went to the tavern for a bottle of port. This he divided into two equal parts, one of which he drank at dinner, which at that time was at three o’clock, the other at supper, which was precisely at nine. His wife, he said, or any accidental guest, might have what they pleased, but “not a drop of his” for any body.
He had the further peculiarity of drinking his wine out of a jelly glass, with a large wide foot, and this he did from the apprehension that some of the numerous four-footed animals which filled his house might throw it down.
The fondness, which he and his wife encouraged for the feline species, was really ridiculous. When the door was opened, it, in some degree, resembled the opening of a dog-kennel, nor were the olfactory nerves less annoyed. Black, white, tabbies, tortoise-shell, grimalkins of all kinds and colours, rushed from every opening, to the great annoyance of the visitor.
Unluckily, there was a large school of boys in the vicinity of the old gentleman’s residence. There was, of course, an open declaration of hostilities between the “young dogs” and these cats.He was often exasperated almost to frenzy, by what he termed their abominable barbarity, and used to indulge himself in severe reproaches against the master, for not inculcating more forcible lessons of gentleness and humanity. His acquaintances were very few, and his guests fewer. With the exception of one old gentleman, a clergyman, of a character not less whimsical than his own, and occasionally, but very rarely indeed, the son of this friend, his dinners were invariably tête-a-tête.
He possessed in manuscript, sermons of his father, and of both his brothers; he had also composed a considerable number himself. The characteristic of them all was sound good sense, very seldom deviating into the subtleties of speculation, but strongly and earnestly enforcing religious and virtuous practice. It occurred to him, that the publication of these discourses might produce a sum of importance to the assistance of a County Hospital, then recently established. They were accordingly printed, and so far succeeded, that the charity was benefited to the amount of three or four hundred pounds. But the work appeared with this peculiarity, that the reader was left to exercise his sagacity in discovering what discourses were the composition of the father, and what of the brothers.
In taking leave of this worthy character, it is observed in our “Recollections,” that he was a man of strong mind, and sound judgment, acute, and intelligent. Taste he had none, and indeed despised what is commonly so called.
What is more to his honour is, that he was friendly, affectionate, prompt in works of benevolence, and anxious to communicate assistance upon whatever occasion it was required.
The old clergyman, his friend, above alluded to, as being of a like eccentric character, was one of those personages who are not often met with in society. He was an excellent scholar, and had much taste and judgment, but he passed the whole of a long life in studied obscurity. He had some paternal fortune, and he married a woman of considerable property.
But from the habit of living in a retired village after the death of his wife, with an old crone of a servant, he contracted habits of the extremest parsimony, of which his son experienced the good effects, for he died prodigiously rich. But mark, it was not till after his death. He did indeed send his son to college, but his allowance was so niggardly bestowed, that he was often put to his shifts. After taking his degree, he was obliged to submit to the drudgery of being usher in a large school. He afterwards married respectably, but nothing could he obtain from his father.
There was one trait in the old gentleman’s character so highly to his honour, that it may well be set as a counterpoise against his infirmity of avarice. He had the most rigid sentiments of honour. He was connected with a noble family, who offered him the living of the place where they resided, but on this condition, that he should sign bonds of resignation in case of being called upon to vacate his preferment: but he refused the offer with disdain; and though he might eventually, perhaps, with a little worldly management, have succeeded on his own terms, he never condescended to take any step whatever in the business, but continued to the end of life, curate of the village of which he might have been the rector.