friends to the government; and that all the Presbyterians were as candid as you towards such of them as are. But however vain it may be to form wishes about others, each person may endeavour to act rightly himself. My business is not to abuse either my power, by lording it over God's heritage, or my wealth to the purposes of luxury or covetousness, but to do as much good as I can with both. One part of it I am sure you have done, by recommending Mr. Sievwright to me. I have heard of a performance of his relative to the Hebrew language, for which I am inquiring. I have got his Principles, Religious and Political; a work that shows much good sense and reading, and hath given me much information concerning the state of Episcopacy in Scotland. I should be glad to see him rewarded in proportion to his merit; but one half of the preferments in my gift are no better, all things considered, than what he hath already; and there are, amongst the English clergy, thrice as many claimants, on good grounds, for the other half, as I shall live to gratify. Besides, I should do Scotland an injury by taking such a man out of it. I must therefore content myself with desiring you to put the inclosed little note into his hands, and to tell him, that if I live another year, and do not forget, which last I hope you will prevent, notice shall be taken of him again, by your friend and

servant.

LETTER V.

JOHN GARDEN TO ARCHBISHOP SECKER, IN RETURN TO THE ABOVE.

MAY IT PLEASE YOUR GRACE,

June 5, 1767.

I AM instantly favoured with your's of the 25th ult. and have communicated the same to Mr. Sievwright. The honour you have conferred on me by your speedy and effectual reply, though far beyond what I could have hoped for, is at present swallowed up in the more substantial joy which I feel in living in those days, when one is found at the head of the church of England, who knows so well to make a proper use of that power and those riches, which Almighty Goodness, out of mercy to mankind, has been graciously pleased to bestow upon so much merit. Methinks at present I feel and fully understand what St. Paul meant, when he said" that for a good man one would even dare to die." What Mr. Sievwright's feelings are, your grace will best understand from himself, for he also is to write you. Sure I am I surprised him. From the experience I have of him, I have reason to think, that the more your grace knows of him, the better you will be pleased with him, and the less you'll think your favours misapplied. He is a man of learning, and one whose walk and conversation seem worthy of his calling. He has now got the seventh child, and the wife is presently on the straw, so that the ten pound note came seasonably. May those sensations that a good

man feels upon doing a generous action, be your grace's constant attendant; in one word, may God bless you, and preserve you long to bless others! With the greatest regard and affection, I am your grace's, &c.

LETTER VI.

DR. THOMAS RUNDLE TO MRS. SANDYS.

MADAM,

My lord has commanded me to write to you. He hath the most melancholy excuse for not doing it himself, that ever a poor father had. He hath lost his second son, the clergyman*, who was the delight and honour of his father, and beloved by all mankind. I have lost a friend, in whom I had placed all the comfort and happiness of my life. I never had a thought of pleasure, to which his company and conversation did not contribute the greatest and most amiable part. He gave a relish to all my expectations. Perhaps there may have been many superior to him in learning; some few his equals in abilities, who have had the same accuracy of judgment, the same discernment, the same clearness of thought; but what a divine world would this be, were there any numbers that had his sweetness of temper, his sincerity, his

* Edward Talbot, archdeacon of Berks, to whose friendship Dr. Rundle owed his introduction to the family, and consequent promotion. He died 1720.

love for virtue! He loved nothing else! The whole ambition of his life was to make others happy; he valued his abilities only as they could contribute to that godlike end. His conversation had as much spirit and wit, joined with as much right sense and instruction, as ever, when single, made men desired for their company: yet he valued these in himself, not as they made him beloved and praised by all, but his own share of the satisfaction arose from the thought that he entertained others, not from any superiority over others on that account. My heart is full of affection for him. Nothing can be said equal to his merit! nor can I express my grief for his loss. We lived together ten years in the most tender and endeared friendship. When in the same

each other: in conWhen absent, our

place, our souls were open to versation, we thought aloud. letters were the pictures of our souls, and every post we conversed. I had no pleasure but what his friendship gave me.

I beg pardon, madam, for my talking so much of my own self and my sorrows, when I should be begging your assistance, by a kind letter, to comfort my poor lord. So much, perhaps, you may learn from this letter, that I am unable to do it myself; and therefore it may induce you to hasten your charity. I put on a forced easiness and cheerfulness when in his company, and make my looks belie my heart; but when I retire, I am glad to indulge my grief. I loved him; I think all that knew me will say that I loved nothing else. But I must beg your excuse, madam, that I should let my concern overflow, when I ought to be en

tertaining you; but I am sure you are sensible of the pleasure of friendship, and can forgive rudenesses which are caused by such a virtue. It is the only virtue that I can boast my heart was sincerely full of. Madam, your most obedient, most humble servant.

LETTER VII.

DR. THOMAS RUNDLE TO MRS. SANDYS.

MADAM, May 1729. I Do not write to entertain you. Poor Dr. Clarke is dying. This morning we thought him out of danger; but now he is going to his Newton. He is above our pity. It is selfishness to lament him; but a selfishness that a man cannot love virtue without feeling. My heart is big with concern and tenderness, and longing for the dear instruction of even his most careless conversation! With what ease and cheerfulnsss did he familiarise knowledge, and bring the highest subjects into the sprightliness of conversation! Religion pities the world, for its not deserving the blessing of his sweet authority, to stop the torrent of infidelity amongst the great. They knew his sense and integrity. They could not believe there was no truth in what he defended, obeyed, and for which he suffered. What punishment, good God! art

* Dr. Clarke died the 17th of May, 1729. His illness began on the 11th, from which he had so far recovered, as to give hopes of his restoration, till the day preceding his dissolution.