I am honoured with yours just now received, and though weary with a journey being come home to night after 3 days absence, and lying out of my Bed which I have not done since Sir Thomas Lee's Election in January, yet I cannot omitt paying my duty to you and thanking you for the favour and satisfaction yours gave mee-I have printed above 20 Prebendal Stalls of Lincoln but it does not goe on so fast as I would have it, else I should soon come to Ely, but I doubt I shall stay a long time for the draughts, wherefore I pray when you write to Dr. Knight press his getting them done out of hand-I have here one of Christ-church which I write upon that you may give your opinion-I shall be very glad you approve it, wee cannot well put in more references. As to the Prebendarys of Lincoln, since I have wrote 5 or 6 letters to the Bishop without an answer, I am obliged to be contented. I should be glad of Thomas Davies's Epitaph from Bexwell. He was vicar of Siston co: Leicester and A.M. as my Account says. I have only 4 or 5 to enquire after that I shall be so eager to find, viz. Joshua Clark (Prebendary) of Cester, who died 1712. I have wrote to his 2 successors and cannot hear one word: The others I want are John Davenport, Mr. Davies's predecessor in Sutton Prebend, and Henry Morland or Merland who died about 1704; but I would more particularly enquire after Thomas Stanhope, who, about 1668, was installed into the Prebend of Sutton cum Buckingham-I shall be thankfull for any Information of him, as I am of all opportunitys of hearing from you, and design to lay by your papers of Ely to send you again: but I

am teized sadly about Bishop Lloyd of Norwich's great Seal, and the circumscription round it, and have had 2 letters this week on that account: what my importunate correspondent wants is, the circle of writing round the Episcopal Seal in which he wrote his name Gulielimus: I am ashamed to repeat this Impertinence to which I pray a quick answer, especialy as to another subject of the greatest consequence of all, which is about placing my Eldest Son at Christ church, where I design to make him a commoner, for he must study hard-I am to consult about a Tutor, and would gladly have one you have a confidence in; there are recommended Mr. Allen, Mr. Bateman, and Mr. Ward; now if you can answer for ever an one of these, and that he will, on your friendshipp or the Dean's, have a more particular eye to Tom, whom I dont design to continue above 2 or 3 years at most, I shall be very thankfull for your recommendation. And so pray dear Mr. Chancellor write soon and advise mee, but I hope your affairs will call you to Oxford, and that you will take mee in your way and see Stratford chapell, which is very near, and your ever obliged and devoted Servant in all things,

A Druid's sacred form he bore,

His robes a girdle bound:
Deep vers'd he was in ancient lore,
In customs old, profound.

A stick torn from that hallow'd tree,
Where Chaucer us'd to sit,
And tell his tales with leering glee,
Supports his tott'ring feet.

High on a hill his mansion stood

But gloomy dark within ;

Here mangled books, as bones and blood Lie in a giant's den.

Crude, undigested, half-devour'd,

On groaning shelves they're thrown; Such manuscripts no eye could read, Nor hand write-but his own.

No prophet he, like Sydrophel,

Could future times explore;
But what had happen'd, he could tell,
Five hundred years and more.

A walking Alm'nack he appears,
Stept from some mouldy wall,
Worn out of use thro' dust and years,
Like scutcheons in his hall."

His boots were made of that cow's hide,
By Guy of Warwick slain;
Time's choicest gifts, aye to abide
Among the chosen train.

Who first receiv'd the precious boon,

We're at a loss to learn,
By Spelman, Camden, Dugdale, worn,
And then they came to Hearne.

Hearne strutted in them for a while;
And then, as lawful heir,

Whene'er the fatal day shall come,

For come, alas ! it must, When this good 'squire must stay at home, And turn to antique dust;

The solemn dirge, ye Owls, prepare,

Ye Bats, more hoarsly screek; Croak, all ye Ravens, round the bier, And all ye Church-mice squeak.

The Rev. W. Cole says, "Browne Willis had a most passionate regard for the town of Buckingham, which he represented in Parliament one session, or part of a session. This he showed on every occasion, and particularly in endeavouring to get a new charter for them, and to get the bailiff changed into a mayor; by unwearied application in getting the assizes held once a year there, and procuring the archdeacon to hold his visitations, and also the bishop there, as often as possible; by promoting the building of a jail in the town; and, above all, by procuring subscriptions, and himself liberally contributing, to the raising the tower of the church 24 feet higher. As he cultivated an interest opposite to the Temple family, they were never upon good terms; and made verses upon each other on their several foibles."

The same Mr. Cole, by way of notes on the preceding poem, relates the following anecdotes of Dr. Willis, which

The spoil of many a year.

His car himself he did provide,
To stand in double stead;

That it should carry him alive,

And bury him when dead.

By rusty coins old kings he'd trace,
And know their air and mien:
King Alfred he knew well by face,

Tho' George be ne'er had seen.

This wight th' outside of churches lov'd,
Almost unto a sin;
Spires Gothic of more use he prov'd
Than pulpits are within.

Of use, no doubt, when high in air,
A wand'ring bird they'll rest,
Or with a Bramin's holy care,

Make lodgments for its nest.

Ye Jackdaws, that are us'd to talk,
Like us of human race,

When nigh you see Browne Willis walk
Loud chatter forth his praise.

"Mr. Willis never mentioned the adored town of Buckingham without the addition of county-town. His person and dress were so singular, that, though a gentleman of 1000l. per annum, he has often been taken for a beggar. An old leathern girdle or belt, always surrounded the two or three coats he wore, and over them an old blue cloak. He wrote the worst hand of any man in England,-such as he could with difficulty read himself, and what no one, except his old correspondents, could decipher. His boots, which he almost always appeared in, were not the least singular part of his dress. I suppose it will not be a falsity to say they were forty years old, patched and vamped up at various times. They are all in wrinkles, and don't come up above half way of his legs. He was often called in the neighbourhood, Old Wrinkle Boots. They are humorously historized in the above poem. The chariot of Mr. Willis

was so singular, that from it he was called himself, The old Chariot. It was his wedding chariot, and had his arms on brass plates about it, not unlike a coffin, and painted black. He was as remark able probably for his love to the walls and structures of churches, as for his variance with the clergy in his neighbourhood. He built, by subscription, the chapel at Fenny Stratford; repaired Bletchley church very elegantly, at a great expense; repaired Bow-Brickill church, desecrated and not used for a century, and added greatly to the height of Buckingham church tower. He was not well pleased with any one, who in talking of, or with him, did not call him Squire. I wrote these notes when I was out of humour with him for some of his tricks. God rest his soul, and forgive us all. Amen!" Cole and Willis were friends. Our antiquary presented a living to Mr. Cole, who appears to have been very useful to him as a transcriber, seeker after dates, and collector of odds and ends. In erudition, discrimination, arrangement, and literary powers, Cole was at an immense distance from him. Dr. Willis's writing he calls "the worst hand of any man in England." This was not the fact. Cole's "hand" was formal, and as plain as print; it was the only qualification he possessed over Dr. Willis, whose writing is certainly peculiar, and yet, where it seems difficult, is readily decipherable by persons accustomed to varieties of method, and is to be read with ease by any one at all acquainted with its uniform character.

On Dr. Willis's personal appearance, Mr. Cole says, in a letter to Mr. Steevens, "When I knew him first, about 35 years ago, he had more the appearance of a mumping beggar than of a gentleman; and the most like resemblance of his figure that I can recollect among old prints, is that of Old Hobson the Cambridge carrier. He then, as always, was dressed in an old slouched hat, more

brown than black, a weather-beaten large wig, three or four old-fashioned coats, all tied round by a leathern belt, and over all an old blue cloak, lined with black fustian, which he told me he had new made when he was elected member for the town of Buckingham about 1707." Cole retained affection for his memory: he adds "I have still by me as relics, this cloak and belt, which I purchased of his

servant" Cole's letter with this account he consented that Mr. Steevens should allow Mr. Nichols to use, adding that he gave the permission" on a presumption, that there was nothing disrespectful to the memory of Mr. Willis; for what I said I don't recollect." On this, Mr. Nichols remarks, "The disrespect was certainly levelled at the mere external foibles of the respectable antiquary, whose goodness of heart, and general spirit of philanthropy were amply sufficient to bear him out in those whimsical peculiarities of dress, which were irresistible sources of ridicule."

Cole, however, may be suspected to have somewhat exaggerated, when he so generalized his description of Dr. Willis, as to affirm that "he had more the appearance of a mumping beggar than of a gentleman." Miss Talbot, of whom it was said by the duchess of Somerset to she despises nobody, and whilst her own lady Luxborough," she censures nobody, life is a pattern of goodness, she does not in her letter to the lady of quality before exclaim with bitterness against vice, "seems, cited, to have painted Dr. Willis to the life. She says, "With one of the honestest hearts in the world, he has one of the the moon. oddest heads that ever dropped out of

Extremely well versed in coins, he knows hardly any thing of mankind, and you may judge what kind of education such an one is likely to give to four girls, who have had no female directress to polish their behaviour, or any other habitation than a great rambling mansion-house in a country village."

to the credit of Mr. Cole, that she adds, It must be allowed, notwithstanding, "He is the dirtiest creature in the world;" but then, with such a character from the mouth of a fine lady, the sex and breeding of the affirmant must be taken into the account,especially as she assigns her reasons. "It is quite disagreeable," she says, "to sit by him at table: yet he makes one suit of clothes serve him at least two years, and then his great coat has been transmitted down, I believe, from generation to generation, ever since Ncah." Thus there may be something on the score of want of fashion in her estimate.

Miss Talbot's account of Dr. Willis's daughters is admirable. "Browne distinguishes his four daughters into the

lions and the lambs. The lambs are very good and very insipid; they were in town about ten days, that ended the beginning of last week; and now the lions have succeeded them, who have a little spirit of rebellion, that makes them infinitely more agreeable than their sober sisters. The lambs went to every church Browne pleased every day; the lions came to St. James's church on St. George's day, (which to Browne was downright heresy, for reasons just related.) The lambs thought of no higher entertainment than going to see some collections of shells; the lions would see every thing, and go every where. The lambs dined here one day, were thought good awkward girls, and then were laid out of our thoughts for ever. The lions dined with us on Sunday, and were so extremely diverting, that we spent all yesterday morning, and are engaged to spend all this, in entertaining them, and going to a comedy, that, I think, has no ill-nature in it; for the simplicity of these girls has nothing blameable in it, and the contemplation of such unassisted nature is infinitely amusing. They follow Miss Jenny's rule, of never being strange in a strange place; yet in them this is not boldness." Miss Talbot says, she could give "a thousand traits of the lions," but she merely adds, "I wondered to have heard no remarks on the prince and princess; their remarks on every thing else are admirable. As they sat in the drawing-room before dinner, one of them called to Mr. Secker, I wish you would give me a glass of sack! The bishop of Oxford (Secker) came in, and one of them broke out very abruptly, But we heard every word of the sermon where we sat; and a very good sermon it was,' added she, with a decisive nod. The bishop of Gloucester gave them tickets to go to a play; and one of them took great pains to repeat to him, till he heard it, I would not rob you, but I know you are very rich, and can afford it; for I ben't covetous, indeed I an't covetous.' Poor girls! their father will make them go out of town to-morrow, and they begged very hard that we would all join in entreating him to let them stay a fortnight, as their younger sisters have done; but all our entreaties were in vain, and to-morrow the poor lions return to their den in the stage-coach. Indeed, in his birth-day tie-wig he looked so like the father' in the farce Mrs. Secker was so diverted with, that I wished a

Mr. Nichols contents himself with calling Miss Talbot's letter "a very pleasant one"-it is delightfully pleasant: that its description may not be received in an ill sense, he carefully remarks, that "it would be thought highly satirical in any body else," but he roguishly affirms that "Dr. Taylor could tell a thousand such stories of Browne Willis and his family;" "In and then he selects another. the summer of 1740, after Mr. Baker's death, his executor came to take possession of the effects, and lived for some time in his chambers at college. Here Browne Willis waited upon him to see some of the MSS. or books; and after a long visit, to find and examine what he wanted, the old bed-maker of the rooms came in; when the gentleman said, 'What noise was that I heard just as you opened the door?' (he had heard the rustling of silk)—'Oh !' says Browne Willis, it is only one of my daughters that I left on the staircase.' This, we may suppose, was a lamb, by her patient waiting; else a lion would have been better able to resist any petty rudenesses."" Afterwards we have another "trait" of the same kind: “Once, after long teasing, the young ladies prevailed on him to give them a London