and I will not despair of making it myself at some future opportunity*. From an early acquaintance with Greek and Latin authors, and the gift of a lively imagination, he addicted himself to poetry; and some of his productions have been deservedly admired. But his studies were so soon turned from the treasures of classical wit to the sources of christian wisdom, that all his poetry is either upon sacred subjects, or upon a common subject applied to some sacred use; so that a pious reader will be sure to gain something by every poetical effort of his mind. And let me not omit another remarkable trait of his character. You can be a witness with me, and so could many others who were used to his company, that few souls were ever more susceptible than his of the charms of music, especially the sacred music of the church: at the hearing of which, his countenance was illuminated; as if he had been favoured with In the Gentleman's Magazine for August, 1793, P. 688, I threw out a letter of Bishop Horne, as a specimen both of the style and of the usual subjects of his epistolary writings. It was the first that came to hand on opening a large parcel of them: and I may leave every reader to judge whether that letter be not curious and important. Compared with the present times, it seems prophetical. with impressions beyond those of other men; as if heavenly vision had been superadded to earthly devotion. He therefore accounted it a peculiar happiness of his life, that, from the age of twenty years, he was constantly gratified with the service of a choir; at Magdalen College, at Canterbury, and at Norwich. His lot was cast by Providence amidst the sweets of cloystered retirement, and the daily use of divine harmony; for the enjoyment of both which he was framed by nature, and formed by a religious education. Upon the whole, I never knew a person, in whom those beautiful lines of Milton*, of which he was a great admirer, were more exactly verified: But let my due feet never fail To walk the studious cloyster's pale; As may, with sweetness through mine ear, And bring all heav'n before my eyes. In the Il Penseroso. You You, who are so perfectly acquainted with the discourse delivered at Canterbury, 1784, when the new organ was opened in the great church, may guess how refined his raptures were: by what he has there said, it may be known what he felt. And I can assure you farther, he was so earnest in this subject, that he took the pains to extract, in his own hand writing, all the matter that is most observable and useful in the five quarto volumes of Sir John Hawkins upon music. I find among his papers this curious abridgment, which is made with critical taste and discernment. But his greatest affection being to the science of divinity, he would there of consequence make the greatest improvements; and there the world will find themselves most obliged to him. No considerable progress, no improvement in any science, can be expected, unless it be beloved for its own sake. How this can happen in divinity, all men may not be able to see: but it is possible for the eye of the understanding to be as truly delighted with a sight of the divine wisdom in the great œconomy of redemption and revelation, as for the eye of the astronomer to take pleasure in observing the lights of heaven, or the naturalist in exploring and collecting, perhaps at the hazard of his life, the treasures of the natural creation. What I here here say will be best understood by those, who know what affection, what animation, is found in the first writers of the christian church; with what delight they dwell upon the wonders of the christian plan, and comment upon the peculiar wisdom of the word of God. To the best writers of the best ages he put himself to school very early, and profited by them so much, that I hope no injustice will be done to their memory, if I think he has in some respects improved upon his teachers. A man with such talents, and such a temper, must have been generally beloved and admired; which he was almost universally; the exceptions being so few, as would barely suffice to exempt him from that woe of the Gospel, which is pronounced against the favourites of the world. But his undisguised attachment to the doctrines of the Church of England, which are still, and, we hope, ever will be, of the old fashion, would necessarily expose him to the unmannerly censures of some, and the frigid commendations of others, which are sometimes of worse effect than open scandal. But he never appeared to be hurt by any thing of this sort that happened to him. An anonymous pamphlet, which the public gave to the late Dr. Kennicott, attacked him very severely; and soon soon received an answer from him; which, though very close and strong, was the answer of a wise and temperate man. He also, in his turn, not foreseeing so much benefit to the Scriptures, as some others did, from Dr. Kennicott's plan for collating Hebrew manuscripts, and correcting the Hebrew text, wrote against that undertaking;, expressing his objections and suspicions, and giving his name to the world, without any fear or reserve. But so it came to pass, from the moderation and farther experience of both the parties, that, though their acquaintance began in hostility, they at length contracted a friendship for each other, which brought on an interchange of every kind office between them, and lasted to the end of their lives, and is now subsisting between their families. To all men of learning, who mean well to the cause of truth and piety, while they are warmly opposing one another, may their example be a lasting admonition! But let not this observation be carried farther than it will go: -Non ut Serpentes avibus geminentur, tigribus agni. In his intercourse with his own family, while the treasures of his mind afforded them some daily opportunities of improvement, the sweetness of his humour was |