was so singular, that from it he was called himself, The old Chariot. It was his wedding chariot, and had nis arms on brass plates about it, not unlike a coffin, and painted black. He was as remarkable 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 col lector 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 Miss Talbot, of whom it gentleman." 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 exclaim with bitterness against vice, "seems, in her letter to the lady of quality before 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." It must be allowed, notwithstanding, "He is the dirtiest creature in the world;" to the credit of Mr. Cole, that she adds, 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 o clothes serve him at least two years, and then his great coat has been transmitted down, I believe, from generation to generation, ever since Noah." 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 A Druid's sacred form he bore, His robes a girdle bound: A stick torn from that hallow'd tree 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; A walking Alm'nack he appears, Stept from some mouldy wall, His boots were made of that cow's hide, Among the chosen train. Who first receiv'd the precious boon, We're at a loss to learn, Hearne strutted in them for a while; 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." WIV The same Mr. Cole, by notes on the preceding poem, rel * following anecdotes of Dr. Will. Browne claim'd and seiz'd the precious spoil, are subjoined to it by Mr. The spoil of many a year. His car himself he did provide, That it should carry him alive, And bury him when dead. By rusty coins old kings ne'd trace, Tho' George he ne'er had seen. This wight th' outside of churches lov'd, Spires Gothic of more use he prov'd Of use, no doubt, when high in air, Make lodgments for its nest. Ye Jackdaws, that are us'd to talk, When nigh you see Browne W "Mr. Willis never mentioned t town of Buckingham without of county-town. His person and were so singular, that, though man of 1000l. per annum, be been taken for a beggar. An girdle or belt, always surrou or three coats he wore, nu old blue cloak. He hand of any man in P he could with difficult what no one, excep ents, could decip he almost alway the least sing suppose it will were forty jaunt; unluckily the lodgings were (unknown to them) at an undertaker's, the irregular and late hours of whose business was not very agreeable to the young ladies: but they comforted themselves with the thoughts of the pleasure they should have during their stay in town; when to their great surprise and grief, as soon as they had got their breakfast, the old family coach rumbled to the door, and the father bid them get in, as he had done the business about which he came to town." Poor girls! its frame. The late Rev. John Kynaston, M. A., fellow of Brazen-nose college, who had seen the preceding paragraphs, writes to Mr. Nichols, "Your anecdotes of the lions and the lambs have entertained me prodigiously, as I well knew the grizzly sire of both. Browne Willis was indeed an original. I met with him at Mr. Cartwright's, at Aynhoe, in Northamptonshire, m 1753, where I was at that time chaplain to the family, and curate of the parish. Browne came here on a visit of a week that summer. He looked for all the world like an old portrait of the era of queen Elizabeth, that had walked down out of He was, too truly, the very dirty figure Miss Talbot describes him to be; which, with the antiquity of his dress, rendered him infinitely formidable to all the children in the parish. He often called upon me at the parsonage house, when I happened not to dine in the family; having a great, and as it seemed, a very favourite point to carry, which was no less than to persuade me to follow his example, and to turn all my thoughts and studies to venerable antiquity; he deemed that the summum bonum, the height of all human felicity. I used to entertain Mr. and Mrs. Cartwright highly, by detailing to them Browne's arguments to debauch me from the pursuit of polite literature, and such studies as were most agreeable to my turn and taste; and by parcelling out every morning after prayers (we had daily prayers at eleven in the church) the progress Browne had made the day before in the arts of seduction. I amused him with such answers as I thought best suited to his hobby-horse, till I found he was going to leave us; and then, by a stroke or two of spirited raillery, lost his warm heart and his advice for ever. My egging him on served us, however, for a week's excellent entertainment, amid the dulness and sameness of a country situation. He represented me at parting, to Mr. Cartwright, as one incorrigible, and lost beyond all hopes of recovery to every thing truly valuable in learning, by having unfortunately let slip that I preferred, and feared I ever should prefer, one page of Livy or Tacitus, Sallust or Cæsar, to all the monkish writers, with Bede at the head of them. -"quot sunt quotve fuerunt Aut quotquot aliis erunt in annis. Sic explicit Historiola de Brownio Willisio!" An Itinerary of Browne Willis "in search of the antique," must have been excessively amu ing. Among the innumerable stories that are told of him, and the difficulties and rebuffs he met with in his favourite pursuits, the following may suffice as a specimen :-One day he desired his neighbour, Mr. Lowndes, to go with him to one of his tenants, whose old habitation he wanted to view. A coach driving into the farm-yard sufficiently alarmed the family, who betook themselves to close quarters; when Browne Willis, spying a woman at a window, thrust his head out of the coach, and cried out, Woman, I ask if you have got no arms in your house." As the transaction happened to be in the rebellion of 1745, when searches for arms were talked of, the woman was still less pleased with her visitor, and began to talk accordingly. When Mr. Lowndes had enjoyed enough of this absurdity, he said, Neighbour, it is rather cold sitting here; if you will let me put my head out, I dare say we shall do our business much better." So the late Dr. Newcome, going in his coach through one of the villages near Cambridge, and seeing an old mansion, called out to an old woman, Woman, is this a religious house? 'I don't know what you mean by a religious house,' retorted the woman; 'but I believe the house is as honest an house as any of yours at Cambridge.' 6 On another occasion, "Riding over Mendip or Chedder, he came to a church under the hill, the steeple just rising above them, and near twenty acres of water belonging to Mr. Cox. He asked a countryman the church's name- Emburrough.' 'When was it dedicated?' 'Talk English, or don't talk at all.' "When is the revel or wake? The fellow thought, as there was a match at quarter-staff for a There is a very characteristic anecdote of Browne Willis, and Humfrey Wanley, a man of singular celebrity, and library keeper to the literary earl of Oxford: it is of Wanley's own relation in his Diary. "Feb. 9, 1725-6. Mr. Browne Willis came, wanting to peruse one of Holmes's MSS. marked L, and did so; and also L 2, L 3, and L 4, without finding what he expected. He would have explained to me his design in his intended book about our cathedrals; but I said I was about my lord's necessary business, and had not leisure to spend upon any matter foreign to that. He wanted the liberty to look over Holmes's MSS. and indeed over all this library, that he might collect materials for amending his former books, and putting forth new ones. I signified to him that it would be too great a work; and that I, having business appointed me by my lord, which required much despatch, could not in such a case attend upon him. He would have teazed me here this whole afternoon, but I would not suffer him. At length he departed in great anger, and I hope to be rid of him." It is reported of the lion, that he is scared by the braying of the least noble of the beasts. The Rev. Mr. Gibberd performed the "last offices" at the funeral of his friend Dr. Willis, who parted from life "without the usual agonies of death." This gentleman says, "He breathed almost his last with the most earnest and ardent wishes for my prosperity: Ah! Mr. Gibberd, God bless you for ever, Mr. Gibberd were almost the last words of my dying friend." Mr. Gibberd's character of him may close these notices. "He was strictly religious, without any mixture of superstition or enthusiasm. The honour of God was his prime view in almost every action of his life. He was a constant frequenter of the church, and never absented himself from the holy ommunion; and as to the reverence he had for places more immediately set apart for religious duties, it is needless to mention what his many public works, in building, repairing, and beautifying churches, are standing evidences of. In the time of health he called his family together every evening, and, besides his private devotions in the morning, he always retired into his closet in the afternoon at about four or five o'clock. In his intercourse with men, he was in every respect, as far as I could judge, very upright. He was a good landlord, and scarce ever raised his rents; and that his servants, likewise, have no reason to complain of their master, is evident from the long time they generally lived with him. He had many valuable and good friends, whose kindAnd ness he always acknowledged. though, perhaps, he might have some dispute, with a few people, the reason of which it would be disagreeable to enter into, yet it is with great satisfaction that I can affirm that he was perfectly reconciled with every one. He was, with regard to himself, peculiarly sober and tenperate; and he has often told me, that he denied himself many things, that he might bestow them better. Indeed, he appeared than as it furnished him with an opporto me to have no greater regard to money He supplied tunity of doing good. yearly three charity schools at Whaddon, Bletchley, and Fenny-Stratford: and besides what he constantly gave at Christmas, he was never backward in relieving his poor neighbours with both wine and money when they were sick, or in any Thus, then, may end kind of distress." the few memorials that have been thrown together regarding an estimable though eccentric gentleman "of the old school." If he did not adorn society by his "manners," he enriched our stores of knowledge, and posterity have justly conferred on his memory a reputation for antiquarian attainments which few can hope to acquire, because few have the industry to cultivate so thorough an intimacy with the venerable objects of their acquaintance. An “antiquary" is usually alarming. Those who are not acquainted with him personally, imagine that he is necessarily dull, tasteless, and passionless. Yet this conception might be dissipated by reference to the memoirs of the eminent departed, or by courting the society of the distinguished living. A citation in the pearance and estimation. The mere schonotice of Grose* tells us that "society droops for the loss of his jest :" that antiquary's facetiousness enlivened the dullest company, and with the convivial he was the most jovial. Pennant's numerous works bear internal evidence of his pleasant mindedness. Jacob Bryant, famous for his extensive learning, erudition," and profound investigations concerning "Heathen Mythology," and the situation and siege of "Troy," was one of the mildest and most amiable beings: his society was coveted by youth and age, until the termination of his life, in his eighty-ninth year. Among the illustrious lovers of classic or black letter lore, were the witty and humorous George Steevens, the editor of Shakspeare; Dr. Richard Farmer, the learned author of the masterly" Essay on the Genius and Learning of Shakspeare," is renowned by the few who remember him for the ease and variety of his conversation; Samuel Paterson, the celebrated bibliopolist, was full of anecdote and drollery; and the placid and intelligent Isaac Reed, the discriminating editor of "the immortal bard of Avon," graced every circle wherein he moved. It might seem to assume an intimacy which the editor of this work does not pretend to, were he to mention instances of social excellence among the prying investigators of antiquity yet alive: one, however, he cannot forbear to namethe venerable octogenarian John Nichols, esq. F.S.A. of whom he only knows, in common with all who have read or heard of him, as an example of cheerfulness and amenity during a life of unwearied perseverance in antiquarian researches, and the formation of multiform collections, which have added more to general information, and created a greater number of inquirers on such subjects, than the united labours of his early contemporaries. Still it is not to be denied, that seclusion, wholly employed on the foundations of the dead, and the manners of other times, has a tendency to unfit such devotees for easy converse, when they seek to recreate by adventuring into the world. Early-acquired and long-continued severity of study, whether of the learned languages, or antiquities, or science, or nature, if it exclude other intimacies, is unfavourable to personal ap Vol. i. p. 658. lar, the mere mathematician, and the mere antiquary, easily obtain reputations for eccentricity; but there are numerous individuals of profound abstraction, and erudite inquiry, who cultivate the understanding, or the imagination, or the heart, others, that they are scarcely suspected by who are, in manner, so little different from the unknown and the self-sufficient of being better or wiser than themselves. Hence, "in company," the individual whom all the world agrees to look on as “The Great Unknown," may be scarcely thought of, as "The Antiquary”—the "President of the Royal Society" pass for quite a lady's man"-and ELIA be only regarded as 66 a gentleman that loves a joke!" 66 NATURE AND ART. "Buy my images!" "Art improves nature," is an old proverb which our forefathers adopted without reflection, and obstinately adhered to as lovers of consistency. The capacity and meshes of their brain were too small to hold many great truths, but they caught a great number of little errors, and this was one. They bequeathed it to "their children and their children's children,' who inherited it till they threw away the wisdom of their ancestors with their wigs; left off hair powder; and are now leaving off the sitting in hot club rooms, for the sake of sleep, and exercise in the fresh air. There seems to be a general insurrection against the unnatural improvement of nature. We let ourselves and our trees grow out of artificial forms, and no longer sit in artificial arbours, with entrances like that of the cavern at Blackheath hill, or, as we may even still see them, if we pay a last visit to the dying beds of a few old tea-gardens. know more than those who lived before us, and if we are not happier, we are on the way to be so. Wisdom is happiness: but "he that increaseth knowledge, increaseth sorrow." Knowledge is not wisdom; it is only the rough material of wisdom. It must be shaped by reflection and judgment, before it can be constructed into an edifice fitting for the mind to dwell in, and take up its rest. This, as our old discoursers used to say, "brings us to our subject." We Buy my images!" or, "Pye m'imaitches," was, and is, a " London cry," by Italian lads carrying boards on their heads, |