left for him at those places where it was least likely he should avoid seeing them.

In the spring of the year 1740 his disorder grew worse, and he died calmly on the 15th of May, at Canonbury House, in Islington, and was buried in the cloisters in Westminster Abbey; where a marble slab is to be seen with a Latin inscription written by himself.

By his will it appears that he was not in low circumstances, and that the only debt he owed was to his tailor, for a roquelaure. This will, it has been said, was never proved; but I am pretty confident it is to be found in the Commons.

His generosity to the poor was infinitely greater than his attention to himself; he scarcely knew what an indulgence meant, and indeed, so great was his temperance, that, like Dryden's good priest, he made almost a sin of abstinence.

An intimate friend, who called on Mr. Chambers one morning, was asked by him to stay and dine: "and what will you give me, Ephraim?" says the gentleman; "I dare engage you have nothing for dinner." To which the good man calmly replied, "Yes, I have a fritter; and, if you'll stay with me, I'll have two.'

Inattentive to himself, he had always the ease and happiness of his fellow-creatures at heart. Being one day pressed by a friend to marry; and on its being represented to him, that he would then have a person to look after him, which his health required, and his neglect of himself demanded; he replied somewhat hastily, "What shall I make a woman miserable to contribute to my own ease? For miserable she must be the moment she gives her hand to so unsocial a being as myself."

It has been said, that Mr. Chambers was not recompensed suitably to his deserts; and it is in some measure true: but, when we consider that he was a single man, with few wants, and fewer wishes; and that he received continual marks of attention and civility from his friends, and by their assistance was enabled to live happily, and to pursue those studies which were most congenial with his inclinations, and that he might undoubtedly have enjoyed more of the superfluities of life, if he had been so disposed, he can scarcely be deemed unsuccessful.

In him we may behold a man, who, under all the disadvantages of birth, unsupported by riches, and unpatronised by the great, made his way through all these obstacles; and, by his own intrinsic abilities and assiduity, became the object of general notice and admiration.

It has been observed, that in his religious sentiments he leaned too much on the side of infidelity; be that as it may

(and I am really inclined to think he was far more orthodox than is generally represented), he was extremely cautious of propagating opinions which might in any degree tend to invalidate the testimony of revelation. I do not recollect a sentence in all his writings which conveys an offensive idea to a pious ear. Infidelity and scepticism are contagious; and I believe it impossible for a man, who labours under a distemper of this nature, to write so extensive a work without spitting out his venom at some unguarded passage or other. But I am not setting up for his apologist; I would only wish to moderate the zeal of those who, without knowing more, or perhaps so much of his character, as myself, have been too prompt and hasty in accusing him; and, under the colour of advocates for Religion, are venting their choler against a man, who seemed, outwardly at least, a favourer of revelation, and a diligent and simple inquirer after truth. It is a certain fact, that when one of his friends intimated to him an intention of going to hear Orator Henley, the fashionable unbeliever of that time, he laboured hard to dissuade him from it, by saying, " You are now satisfied; why then, in God's name, should you plant thorns in your own breast?"

That he was without faults, I dare not say; but that he had as few as most men, I think myself justified in affirming. If he was irasci facilis, we may add, tamen ut placabilis esset. If he was warm and hasty, he was open and ingenuous, generous and forgiving; and, with so many good qualities, a little natural warmth and impetuosity should be overlooked. Alas! who is there that can lay his hand to his heart and say, I am clean?

of

His writings were those of a man who had a sound judg ment, a clear and strong memory, a ready invention, an easy method of arranging his ideas, and who neither spared time nor trouble. His life was spent rather in the company books than men, and his pen was oftener employed than his tongue; his style is in general good, his definitions clear and unaffected: in language he applied rather to the judg ment than the ear; and, if he has been censured for baldness, it has been by those who do not know the difficulty of technical expression, and of writing at once for the scholar and the artificer, the prince and the peasant. In his epistolary correspondence he was lively and easy, as will appear by the specimens I shall send you*.

VOL. IV.

[* See Vol. III. p. 129. of these Selections. E.]

As he lived generally beloved, so he died universally regretted his life was indeed without the enjoyments of the rich, and it was without their vices also. If he left no wealth, he left no revilers behind him; elevated marks of distinction from the rich and great he neither coveted nor enjoyed; "contemnere honores-fortis, et in seipso totus teres atque rotundus." Emulation, Mr. Chambers well knew, was the direct road to calumny, and he was too sensible a man to barter peace of mind for popularity.

1785, Sept.

M.

XLI. Anecdotes of Sir EDWARD HOBY.

MR. URBAN,

IN the library at Penshurst, in Kent, are ancient portraits, on board, of many of the Constables or Governors of Queenborough castle, in the same county. They were collected, and placed in this castle, by Sir Edward Hoby, the nineteenth Constable, in 1582, who at the same time added his own portrait to the collection. But this does not at present appear among its companions at Penshurst. Where is it now to be found? After the dispersion or removal of the collection, Johnson, in his Iter Plantarum, says, that he saw it in 1629, at the vicarage-house of Gillingham, in Kent, when Mr. Skelton was vicar. That house was long ago re-built. Johnson describes Queenborough castle as then standing, and in good condition, but without the portraits. It was afterwards demolished by Cromwell. But to return to Sir Edward Hoby, the chief object of this paper. He corresponded with Camden, and was connected with almost all the learned men of his time. He was entered a gentlemancommoner of Trinity college, Oxford, in 1574, at the age of fourteen. He patronised Thomas Lodge, the poet, his contemporary in that college. Wood, in what sense I do not exactly know, says, that Hoby had Lodge, for his scholar there. He lived much at Bisham-abbey, in Berkshire; and gave to the said college Sir Henry Savile's sumptuous edition of St. Chrysostom, in eight folio volumes, printed at Eton, in 1612. In a blank leaf of the first volume is inserted the following terse Latin epistle, written with his

own hand, from Queenborough castle, to the president of the college, Dr. Ketell.

"Admodum Reverendo Antistiti, D. Ketello, Collegii Trinitatis, Oxon. vigilantissimo Præsidi."-" Sanctæ Trinitatis Collegii in me merita, mi Ketelle, non benevolentiæ sed obsequii pignora efflagitant. Quadraginta jam annis elapsis, ex quo primum in eodem scholaris fui. Scholaris? Alumnus. Siquod unquam cum Musis habui commercium, apud vos rudimenta suscepisse, suscepta crevisse, fateri fas est. Arctiori etiam vinculo constrinxit prænobilis Heroina, vestra fundatrix, quo tempore, pro amore in me suo, Bernardum Adamum, nunc Limbricensem præsulem, in Albo vestro conscripsit, aluit, sustentavit. Na, huc usque, nihil compensationis: negligentiæ nimium. En, tandem, emendationis ansam; deinceps, forsan, uberiorem. Nuperrime in vicinia nostra, D. Chrysostomi Operum Græce nova et exquisita comparuit editio: cura summa, fide solita, impensis ingentibus, solertia infatigabili, nobilis nostri Henrici Savilii, Equitis aurati, de academicis, republica, Europa, optime meriti. Eandem igitur cum primis ad te deferendam curavi; et in Bibliotheca vestri Collegii reponendam, velut · amoris mei seu pietatis tesseram, et μm. Fruere, vive, vale! Raptim ex Castro Burgi-Reginæ, in agro Cantiano. Pridie Calendas Martii Julianas, MDCXII. Vere tuus, Edv. Hoby."

Here the illustrious Heroine, vestra fundatrix, is Dame Elizabeth Paulet, the second wife of Sir Thomas Pope, founder of Trinity college; afterwards married to Sir Hugh Paulet, famous in the reign of Queen Elizabeth. By Bernardum Adamum, we are to understand Bernard Adams, Bishop of Limerick, who had been scholar and fellow of Trinity college. Sir Edward Hoby died at Queenborough castle in 1616, and was buried among his ancestors in Hoby's chapel, in the church of Bisham.

1786, Jan.

INVESTIGATOR.

XLII. JOHN DRYDEN. Particular Narrative of his Funeral.

MR. URBAN,

Winchester, April 8.

IN turning over Ward's London Spy,* principally with a

* Published by J. How, 1706. Third Err.

Ι

view to trace the progressive change of manners in mankind; among many curious anecdotes I have found (what the title of the book would not have led me to expect) an account of the funeral of Dryden. As this account very materially differs from the story Dr. Johnson has copied in his "Lives of the English Poets;" I consider it may be acceptable to many of your readers. The Doctor has told us, "This story I once intended to omit, as it appears with no great evidence; but having been informed that there is in the register of the College of Physicians an order relating to Dryden's funeral, I can doubt its truth no longer." From the very short period between the death of Dryden in 1701, and the publication of the work whence the following is extracted, we may now venture to doubt part of the Doctor's account of the matter; for no author, it is presumed, would dare to give (in such circumstances) so particular an account, unless it was strictly true.

Yours,

Z.

A deeper concern hath scarcely been known to affect in general the minds of grateful and ingenious men, than the melancholy surprise of the worthy Mr. Dryden's death hath occasioned through the whole town, as well as in all other parts of the kingdom where any persons either of wit or learning have taken up their residence. Wheresoever his incomparable writings have been scattered by the hands of travellers into foreign nations, the loss of so great a man must needs be lamented amongst their Bards and Rabbies; and 'tis reasonable to believe the commendable industry of translators has been such, to render several of his most accurate performances into their own languages, that their native country night receive the benefit, and themselves the reputation, of so laudable an undertaking; and how far the wings of merit have conveyed the pleasing fruits of his exuberant fancy, is a difficult conjecture, considering what a continual correspondence our nation has with most parts of the universe; for it is reasonable to believe all Christian kingdoms and colonies at least have been as much the better for his labours, as the world is the worse for the loss of him. Those who were his enemies while he was living (for no man lives without,) his death has now made such friends to his memory, that they acknowledge they cannot but in justice give him this character that he was one of the greatest scholars, the most correct dramatic poet, and the best writer of heroic verse, that any age has produced in

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