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have you read Dante, sir?" "I have endeavoured to understand him," replied Mr. N. Mr. Gray, being much pleased with the illustration, and with the taste which it evinced, addressed the chief of his discourse to him for the remainder of the evening, and invited him to his rooms in Pembroke hall.

Mr. Gray found in his young acquaintance a ready and a docile disposition, and he became attached to him. He then gave him instruction for the course of his studies, which he directed entirely, even to the recommendation of every author, and to the very order in which they should be read, which happily continued till the time of Mr. Gray's death. Mr. N. might well say to the poet, in the words of his favourite Florentine: "Tu sei lo mio maestro."* To this incident, so rare and so honourable to Mr. Nicholls, and to the improvement which was the consequence of it, I attribute not only the extent and the value of his know ledge, but the peculiar accuracy and correct taste which distinguished him throughout his life, and which I have seldom observed in any man in a more eminent degree.

The letters of Mr. Gray to Mr. Nicholls, preserved by Mr. Mason in his Memoirs of the poet, sufficiently prove the intimacy between them; and it is my opinion that, with the single exception of his earliest and most accomplished friend the hon. Richard West, Mr. Gray was more af fectionately attached to him than to any other person.

By the advice of Mr. Gray, Mr. Nicholls visited France, Swisserland, and Italy. He there found scenes and perBons congenial to his taste and to his faculties. In Swisserland he looked abroad through nature, from every "ice-built mountain" and rugged cliff; and by the lakes and valleys of that once envied country, he felt the truth of Rousseau's inimitable remark, "qu'il y a des moments où il suffit du sentiment de son existence." In Italy he found all which could capti. vate and enchain his attention among the Inost finished works of art; and under the soft but animating influence of climate, of scenery, and of classic imagery, he improved his talents; and, by his conversation and knowledge of the language, he was peculiarly acceptable in the most select assemblies. When Italy is the theme, it is difficult to restrain our sensations: but in this place I would only

Dante. Inf. c. 1.

MONTHLY MAG. No. 199.

add, that Mr. Nicholls, in an elegant and interesting narrative of his travels (which he never intended to make public), has privately recorded whatever fixed his mind, exalted his imagination, and refined his judgment. The celebrated and learned count Firmian, the Austrian minister at Milan, to whom he was introduced, noticed him, and became his intimate friend. From count Firmian's powerful recommendation Mr. Nicholls had access to every circle of distinction in every foreign country which he visited; and no man ever profited more from the advantages which were so singularly and so happily offered to him.

On his return from the continent, he found that he had sustained a loss which was irreparable. Mr. Gray was no more. His friend, his companion and enlightened guide, was no longer to con tribute to his happiness, and to animate his studies; and to this irreversible doom he submitted, quiet, though sad.

Upon the best motives he retired, and resided constantly with his mother in the cheerless depth, and then uncultivated solitude, of his Suffolk livings, where he passed his time in continued study and in the exercise of his professional duties. But I must observe that, since his residence there, the country and the neigh bourhood have assumed another aspect. As there was no rectorial house upon either of his livings, he fixed upon a place, which I could wish that future travellers might visit and speak of as we do of the Leasowes: I mean his villa at Blundeston, which, (if barbarous taste should not improve it, or some more barbarous land-surveyor level with the soil its beauties and its glories,) will remain as one of the most finished scenes of cultivated sylvan delight which this island can offer to our view. It was his own and his appropriate work; for scarcely a trace of its uncouth original features can be found or pointed out to the visitant. But to the eye of a mind like Mr. Nicholls's, the possible excellences of a place yet unadorned, were visible; and even as it then was, there were to be found in it walks and recesses, in which Mr. Gray observed, in his sublime conciseness, "that a man who could think, might think." By perseverance and skill, he at last surmounted every diffi culty which was opposed to him through a long series of years, and he formed and left the scene as it now is. Throughout

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the whole, and in every part of it, the marks of a judgment which cannot be questioned, and of an unerring taste, which was regulated by discreet expence, are so eminently conspicuous, as to proclaim Mr. Nicholls to have been, what a kindred poet so happily terms

Un artiste qui pense,

Prodigue de génie et non pas de dépense.❤

To be a visitor and an inmate guest to Mr. Nicholls at Blundeston in the gay season, when his lake was illuminated by Sumner suns, and rippled by the breeze; when every tree and shrub, in its chosen position, seemed to wave in homage to its possessor and cultivator; when a happy and youthful company of either sex, distinguished by their talents and accomplishments, was enlivened by the good humour and spirit which presided over the whole; with the charm of music, and with every well-tempered recreation which the season could present, and with all the elegance of the domestic internal arrangements; it was difficult indeed, I say, to be a visitor and a guest at Blundeston in that gay season, and not to be reminded of Spenser's imagination: "For all that pleasing is to eye or ear, Was there consorted in one harmony; Birds, voices, instruments, winds, waters, all agree!"

Whoever have been witnesses of the scene will know that I speak of it as they have seen it, and that I have set down nothing in fiction. I had fondly hoped

that I should have revisited this favourite
spot, and its beloved and accomplished
master, for many a year with increasing
pleasure. But what are the prospects of
man! The mind which presided over it
is fled; and the scene is solitary:

Secca è la vena dell'usato ingegno:
Vedove l'erbe, e torbie son l'acque !

If Mr. Nicholls indeed had devoted

for painting or for rural scenery, even he has declared, that "some praise must be allowed to him who does best, what such multitudes are contending to do well." To say this, is something; yet it is to be a niggard of our speech to say no more, when such liberal delight is the object of communication.

In every department of elegant literature Mr. Nicholls displayed the same correct taste. His knowledge of history was copious but chosen; in ancient and in modern writers he was accurately versed, and in all subjects he had recourse to the original springs of knowledge. In the French and Italian languages, as well as in the particular modes of the life and manners of those countries, he was eminently instructed; and the tinction were familiar to him. In the merits of every author and poet of dismost polished society of unrevolutionized France, and in the Tuscan conversations, he was received as a native. Ile seemed, indeed, to have transfused into his habits and manners such a portion of their spirit, that many persons were inclined to think, that either the Scine or the Arno might have claimed him for their own. In Italy, during his short sojourn among the unrivalled remains of genius and of art, he accurately studied and comprehended the works of the greatest masters of the pencil. He did this not with the idle spirit of a loitering traveller, but with the unremitting application of

a man who knew the value of his time and of his talents. He felt and prosecuted the desire of improving them by an honourable familiarity with the designs of great painters and sculptors; and of fixing in his own mind those forms of excellence by which his judgment might be guided, and his recollection gratified, in the future course of his life, among its choicest and most liberal amusements.

Mr. Nicholls was by nature commu

his time and talents exclusively to the ornamental laying out of grounds, and had originally made it his profession, itpicative," and his spirit was not finely might be said with truth, in the diction of poetry, that Pactolus might have rolled through his own domains. But to embellish the form of rural nature was only his amusement. In his own neigh

bourhood there could be no emulation

nor vanity; for where could he discover
a competitor? His villa at Blundeston
was an Oásis. Even the severe but dig-
nified moralist, to whom nature had
denied an ear for harmony, and an eye

* Delille, les Jardins, 1. 1.
+ Dr. S. JohnsoR.

touched but to fine issues." His younger friends will be gratefully alive to my words, when I allude to his willingness, and even his eagerness, to impart information, and to diffuse rational pleasure. Such indeed were his good manners, his benevolence, and his hospitality, that his spirits might be said to shine through him; and in the reception of friends, of acquaintances, and of strangers, under his roof, were shewn that readiness and urbanity which announced the gentleman of birth and the man of breeding. I am indeed convinced, that there is not a

scholar,

scholar, nor a man of fashion with the attainments of a scholar, who knew Mr. Nicholls intimately, who would not willingly have adopted the words of the poet of Syracusa, and hailed him as the Tov Marais pihov ardga, Toy & Xagic απέχθη. Η

He was passionately, perhaps rather too much, devoted to music. He had studied it accurately as a science, under some of the greatest masters; and in the pursuit and cultivation of it he was untired, and indeed indefatigable. But he generously communicated his knowledge and his taste to congenial, and particularly to young minds, in which he saw and marked the promise of genius and the ardour of application.

His manners, habits, and inclinations, naturally led him to frequent the most polished society; but study and letters rendered the intervals of solitude useful and agreeable.' In his sphere of life and action, by his instruction, by his influence, and by his example, he diffused over an extensive district an elegance and a refinement unknown before he resided in it. As a county magistrate, one of the most important offices which a

private gentleman can undertake, he was diligent and regular in his attendance; and in the discharge of his duty in that function, which is indeed the unbought defence of civilized society, and unknown to other countries, he was useful, discerning, temperate, and impartial.

To those friends who visited Mr. Nicholls, and partook of his refined hospitality and of his entertainments at Blun deston, it may possibly have appeared that his mode of life required a large command of fortune, and that an ample patrimony could alone supply the display of such generosity. Yet his inheritance, which was inconsiderable, and his professional income, which was not large, defrayed the whole. He had indeed the most discerning œconomy which I ever observed in any man; an economy, which neither precluded liberality to his equals, nor, what is far more important, charity to his inferiors. The fidelity, the attachment, and the conscientious services, of his valuable domestics, some of whom had grown old under his roof, made them rather humble friends than servants; and by the faithful discharge of their several duties, they relieved him from attentions which otherwise must

"Friend of each muse, and favourite of

cach Grace,"

have been required. But his eye, his mind, and his heart, pervaded all his concerns. In no private duty was he deficient; nor was any thing considered as too minute for his own inspection, if he of the wisdom which dictated this imthought it necessary; and he was aware spiseth little things shall fall by little and portant aphorism, that "he who dethe embellishment of the rural scenery, little." In the direction of his house, in in his library, in his studies, and in all order, and harmony, which proved that things which produced that integrity, all was well within, and that every end which he wished, was accomplished; in all these, I would repeat it with earnestness, he relied invariably on that

66

magnum vectigal," that possession in reserve, that subsidiary strength, the palife, and the support of all public gorent of peace, the guardian of private

vernment-discreet œconomy.

which is owing from a son to a parent, In that sacred and bounden duty he was eminently exemplary. Having lost his father so very early in life as scarcely to have seen him, his attention and reverential attachment to his mother, to her extremest age, was singularly af fectionate, unremitting, and unvaried; and, with the pious choice of his illustrious friend Mr. Gray, " in death he was not divided." He always expressed his intention, and he directed it by his will, that one grave should enclose their remains and it does enclose them.

I

myself, in company with another friend, solemnly attended them through the church-way path, with christian resignation and with quiet obsequies, to the house appointed for all living. Yes; it is finished.

Omnia solvuntur jam Matri, et funeris umNihil oh tibi, amice, relictum;

bris!

If such a desire be indeed a weakness, it

is at least honourable to our common nature; and I envy not the heart of him who is disposed to censure it.

Of his higher and important professional duties, Mr. Nicholls was neither unmindful or neglectful. He was regular in the discharge of his sacred othces as a clergyman in his parishes, in which he generally resided between nine and ten months every year; and during his residence he read prayers and preached twice every Sunday. There was a peculiar propriety and decorum in his manner of reading; and though his mode of preaching was not peculiarly eloquent,

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it was impressive, and often affecting. The matter of his sermons tended more to the discussion and enforcement of the moral duties of the gospel, than to the consideration of the subtle points of theo logy. His compositions for the pulpit were, as I think, formed chiefly on the model of Massillon and Flechier, in whose writings he was conversant. He conscientiously adhered to the church of England from principle, and had an aversion to all dispute and controversy. He maintained and recommended, publicly and privately, every doctrine which upholds legitimate government, and prevents confusion political and theological. He loved his country; he loved her laws, her ordinances, her institutions, her religion, and her government: for he knew that they have made, and still make, England to be what it is. He abhorred every troubler of the state: the specious reformer, the obstreperous tyrannical demagogue, and the disorganizing sophist. He dreaded also the influence and the principles of the Romish church; and, however they may be softened or explained away by modern statesmen, he deprecated their encouragement or their revival among us: but he loved that to leration and freedom which the church and constitution of England, steering between opposite extremes, grant with evangelical discretion to every sect of christianity, however distinguished. Indeed, it may be said to his honour as a clergyman, a scholar, and a man of uncommon attainments, that he was moderate, enlightened, indulgent, and li beral. "Nullius obscuravit gloriam, nullius obstitit commodis, nullius obstrepuit studiis; dignitates non ambivit; quæstum non venatus est."

When he was a child his constitution was delicate; but as years advanced, by care, by exercise, and afterwards by foreign travel and change of scene and of climate, by a scrupulous attention to his person and to a neatness never exceeded, and by an even placid temper, his frame acquired a strength, an alacrity, and a springy activity, which I think accompanied him to the last, and gave a zest to his pursuits, and vigour to his fa

culties.

But on all the labours, the troubles, and the enjoyments of our nature, the night, in which no man can work, advances last; and, however unwilling,

we must all hear

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The hour was now approaching rapidly when his sun was also to set; for an unperceived decay was undermining his constitution, and many a flaw hinted mortality. Yet it must be confessed, that, with all his cheerfulness of temper, with every internal assurance of a wellspent life, and with every assistance from philosophy and from religion, Mr. Nicholls, like many other good and blameless men, could never sustain in thought the shock of final separation from the world, without a visible reluctant emotion when he spoke of death. But ere we make any remark, surely we may ask, who is sufficient for these thoughts? Can we answer, One of a thousand? However, if there were any weaknesses about him (and who is exempt?) I think one of thein was that of flattering himself with an extended prospect of long. continued health and strength beyond what is permitted to inan:

Quæ facili sperabat mente futura Arripuit voto levis, et presentia finxit. His appearance indeed never bespoke his age; and in the best sense of the word, I think he was always young.

1809, Mr. Nicholls was attacked by a speIn the spring and summer of the year cies of cough, the nature or the cause of which he could not ascertain. His coun tenance, during that period, sometimes bore marks of great indisposition, and of a tendency to what is called a breaking up of the constitution. But still he cou tinued his accustomed occupations; he enjoyed, as usual, the company of his But his infirmity evidently increased, yet friends, and he promoted their happiness. without any alarm or apprehension of its fatal tendency. I think, indeed, that pectation of his dissolution, either in the he had by no means a distinct view or exbeginning or in the progress of his malady. nation which was so soon to take place, A very few days before that termi he returned home, much indisposed, to Blundeston, where he received every as. sistance from his faithful and afflicted domestics, and experienced every affec tionate attention and relief from a physician, for whom, I know, he uniformly and in whose care and skill he placed a and constantly expressed his esteem, confidence unlimited and unvaried. But

his complaint, which was bilious, -increased beyond the reach of art; a dissolution of strength, without a pang which tortured, or a pain which exhausted him, succeeded; and, from the sudden

Dr. Girdlestone, of Yarmouth in Norfolk.

bursting

bursting of a blood-vessel, he breathed out his virtuous spirit by an instant and quiet expiration.

I now, my dear sir, close my letter. Much I have omitted, and many an incident have I suppressed which your recollection will supply; as I am unwilling to lessen general interest by minute amplification, nor would I by too eager a zeal frustrate the labour of love. I have never, in the whole course of my life, offered praise to any man when living, or flung incense on his tomb, from the unqualified consideration of his rank, of his connections, or of his wealth; but to genius, to learning, and to virtue, in what station soever united, I have always paid, and (however unworthy I may be to do so) I hope I always shall pay, iny nost deliberate homage. I feel that this tribute is due to my deceased friend; and I know that my pen has been guided by a pious and disinterested affection. I hope also that you, or any of our friends into whose hands it may fall, will either approve or excuse this little memorial of a most valuable and accomplished man, whom I loved and esteemed when living, and whose departure I most sincerely and most deeply regret.

For the Monthly Magazine.
On the PROPOSED PARLIAMENTARY CON-
SIDERATION of the SITUATION of the

INFERIOR CLERGY.

Ting of the session, recommended HE king, in his speech at the opento the consideration of parliament, the situation of the inferior clergy; and for some time past there has, I think, been on foot an enquiry respecting all livings under 150. a year; and when lord Harrowby, in the house of lords, made a motion on the subject, it was for an account of the number and value of livings of the poorer clergy.

Thus, it would appear, that it is only the beneficed clergy that are intended to be relieved by the proposed consideration of parliament. But there is a description of the clergy, more numerous, more laborious, and more importantly useful, whose situation calls more loudly for consideration and relief, than even the lowest of the beneficed clergy-I mean the officiating curates of England, by whom, I believe, the greater part of the parochial duty in the country is performed; and to whom, in a great measure, it is left, under necessity and ob scurity, perhaps neglect and contempt, to elude or oppose the perverse passions

and prejudices of mankind, to support the interests of virtue and religion, and to promote morality, decency, and order, in society. For, however little observed or acknowledged, it is to the divine institution of the sabbath, and the constant and general exercise of the duties and services of religious worship, perhaps more than to every other cause, that we owe the preservation of both public and private morality and order in the world. This is a cause, of which though the operations be silent and unmarked, they are constant and universal; and however lite their effects may appear in particular instances, it is not easy to calculate how great and extensive they are on the civil, moral, and religious characters and lives of the people, and on the interests of the public in general.

To estimate these effects aright, let us only suppose the institutions and public services of religion entirely abolished for a short time, and endeavour, in thought, to trace what the probable consequences would be. In the lower and ordinary ranks of life, (in this country at least, where private and domestic religious instruction, admonition, and example, are so shamefully neglected,) we should probably soon see all regard to God, all sense of religion, and even of decency and morality, lost; and the most debased and abandoned depravity of character and morals, and finally barbarism itself, to prevail.

It

Now, however light statesmen and politicians may hold all these in a merely moral and religious point of view, they must be miserably ignorant of the nature of man, and of the history of the world, if they do not know how important they are in a civil and political view. is presumed the British parliament are fully sensible of their importance in every respect. Yet this great and all-interesting concern is left almost entirely to the neglected and disregarded curates of England!

For instance: the place from which I now write consists of two parishes; the one living is a little above, the other a little below, 150/. Of the incumbents, the one has not visited his living for these fifteen years; he has indeed age and infirmities to plead in excuse: the other, without any such plea, has not seen his living, heard from, nor been heard of in it, not even by his curate, for I believe more than seven years; though both of them reside within less than sixty miles of their livings, the whole duty and

charge

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