ABSTRACT
The intelligence of the catastrophe of our hero and his companions, were related so circumstantially in the prolific journals of the day, that Dr. Homily had no doubt of the facts, and some days after sent invitations through the neighbourhood, requesting the attendance of his friends at the funeral ceremony. He had asked, but had been denied, the use of the pulpit of the church and meeting-house in the village; the episcopal clergyman disliking him as a Jacobite, and the dissenter as a friend of bishops, and the church liturgy: nay, the latter went so far, as to excite the populace against Dr. Homily’s proposed dedication of the busts, as being papistical, and leading to image worship. The urbanity however of the old gentleman’s manners, and / his established piety, prevailed over the love of orthodoxy; and the most respectable of the neighbourhood attended at Berkeley Hall. The Doctor was arrayed in the most dignified habiliments of the order, and his wig was dressed in the best style that Sancho’s absence would admit. The busts were put on a black barrow, and borne by four domestics. The pall was supported by some of the young gentlemen in the neighbourhood, who had been most intimate with our hero. The Doctor, Mr. Lumeire, Dr. Bellamy, and Mr. M’Gregor, followed as mourners. After proceeding through the garden and walks, they approached the arbour, and Dr. Homily read the service, with alterations, as proposed. The busts were then fixed on the tomb of Matilda, round which they all trod slowly in solemn silence, and then descended into the garden, where the Doctor mounted the steps of a large sun-dial, which was in its centre, and served him for a pulpit. / He then delivered an excellent discourse on the immortality of the soul, and the best grounds of consolation in misfortunes. The occasion, place, manner, and fervency of the speaker, rendered it exceedingly affecting. The Doctor delivered it with great energy, as well as self-command, until towards the conclusion, when he was to dwell on the virtues and lament the loss of our hero, his feelings got the mastery, and his voice was choaked with sighs. He could only be heard to articulate, ‘It is enough! the gallant boy needs no panegyric, and I am unable to bestow it. The infirmities of age and the weakness of my heart, have overpowered 357my reason and resolution for a moment.’ A solemn and pathetic silence ensued for a little time, which was interrupted by the cry of Fire! It was soon announced from the road, that parson Rogan, the dissenting minister’s new house in the town was in flames. Dr. Homily gave them all a hasty blessing, called for his / horse, and ordered his servants to convey his fire-engine from the hall, and his buckets and waggons as quickly as possible to the relief of the sufferer. He himself, accompanied by his friends, was the first at the conflagration, and was the chief means, by his engine and zeal, to prevent the extension of the flames. He was in his great coat, put on hastily over his cassock; and with his band and full-bottomed wig, made rather a grotesque appearance. He commended the diligence of the people, ordered a hogshead of good English ale to be distributed amongst them, and sent by Mr. M’Gregor to the parson, ten pounds to relieve his distress. /
