# Eight Friends of the Great/1

EIGHT FRIENDS OF THE GREAT
A HERETIC IRISH BISHOP
A week or two after the return in 1880 of the Liberal party to power, one of its most influential supporters, the son of a bishop, introduced into the House of Commons a bill for "the abolition of the congé d'élire and for the appointment to the episcopal bench direct by letters patent under the great seal." An interesting debate ensued and the bill was opposed on behalf of the government by the then Mr. Arthur Peel. At a later period in the discussion Mr. Gladstone intervened with his accustomed interest in ecclesiastical affairs. He urged that the existence of the congé acted as a moral check upon the prerogative of the crown and supported his argument by a reference to a case which occurred in the time of Sir Robert Walpole. That minister wished "to appoint a certain Dr. Rundle to a bishopric" but on account of his doctrines opposition in the chapter of the see to which it was intended to send him was threatened by his theological opponents. Sir Robert thereupon "transferred him to Ireland" where the absence of a congé d'élire permitted him to carry out his desires without any restraint. Ireland was then and for long years afterwards the dumping ground of the parson and the placeman. It was a country in which the presence of a heretic on the episcopal bench was a matter of no consequence; ​a country where in the words of Sir James Mackintosh "anybody might be anything."
This heretic bishop Thomas Rundle, the diocesan of Derry, came from Devonshire, and is said to have been born at Milton Abbot about 1686. Members of his family had lived there and in the adjoining parish of Lamerton for several generations, but his father, also Thomas Rundle, was the son of a resident in Tavistock, the county town of those parishes. In 1691 he succeeded to the rectory of Whimple, a few miles from Exeter, and in 1697 was installed as prebendary of Exeter. The boy naturally went to the grammar-school of that city where the head-master was John Reynolds, whose portrait by his nephew Sir Joshua Reynolds hangs in the provost's lodge at Eton. When over 50 years old (1740) Rundle wrote to Alured Clarke, who had just been elevated to the deanery, that Exeter still continued the delight of his imagination. It was "by far the finest climate and most agreeable place of residence in England." He dwelt on "the variety of public walks round the town, the beauty of the landscapes, and the warmth of the air. The trees there shoot with a more luxuriant verdure, the flowers glow with warmer colours and the fruits ripen to a richer flavour . . . the fig and the grape scarce desire better skies." Had he lived in the twentieth century, he would have added to these praises the ease with which a resident within its walls can escape by rail or motor to sea or moor.
Like most other west-country youths, Rundle entered at Exeter college, Oxford, matriculating on 5 April, 1704. His technical description in the college was that of sojourner, and he remained there until 3 Dec. 1712 when he left with the degree of B.C.L. On 5th of July, 1723 he proceeded to the degree of LL.D. Thomas Rennell, another Devonian, and the bearer of a name which became famous among the leading preachers in the English church a ​century later, acted as his tutor. While at Oxford a fellow collegian from the west, Joseph Taylor, afterwards member of parliament for Petersfield and Ashburton, introduced him to Edward Talbot of Oriel college, second son of the prelate who was successively bishop of Oxford, Salisbury and Durham. Through this friendship Rundle became intimate with Joseph Butler and Thomas Seeker, and, as the friends of bishop Talbot's son, all three of them obtained preferment from the father. Complaint was made that Rundle adopted his friends precipitately and dropped them abruptly, and some years later George Stubbes, an old fellow of Exeter college, who was numbered among the small poets of the period, ridiculed this propensity in a poem called "fickle friendship." A very sprightly lady, Mary Lepel, lady Hervey commented on another fault. She acknowledged that lord chancellor Talbot, the bishop's eldest son had parts, but asserted that "the flattery and indulgence of Rundle has been his ruin. …Rundle was the greatest flatterer and the greatest talker I ever met with in my life." But whatever his motives or his failings may have been, these great divines, Butler and Seeker, remained his fast friends all his life.
Towards the close of Rundle's college life the sincere but whimsical Whiston paid a visit to Oxford to further a scheme "for promoting primitive Christianity." Rundle and Rennell sought the acquaintance of the reformer and as they were "sensible of modern errors and corruptions" were ready to give their support to him, but doubted whether any more recruits would be enlisted at the university. Rundle, after leaving the university, became an inmate of the house of John Cater of Kempston, near Bedford, as the tutor of his only son, and Whiston was asked by the head of the family to visit them. The tutor proved "so ready in the fathers and ecclesiastical history and indeed, so learned in all science but … so strictly sober, serious, conscientious (what shall ​I say ?) so daringly good and honest in principle" that their guest believed himself to be amongst the primitive christians in the first century. The colours of this halcyon picture soon faded away.
The weakness of Rundle revealed itself to the critical eye of Thomas Emlyn, the first unitarian minister in England. He was not so temperate and abstemious as a confessor for the faith ought to be, and Emlyn was not long in remarking that he "did not seem cut out for such sufferings as counsellors are to expect." The truth forced itself upon poor Whiston with even more directness. He was invited to "eat a cheesecake" with Talbot and Rundle, but when the innocent heretic went he found "such a collation of wine and sweet-meats prepared as little corresponded to the terms of the invitation." The secret of the repast was soon disclosed. They announced their intention to sign the 39 articles and to take preferment in the church. Whiston broke out into bitter reproaches and continued his sarcasms in after years. Some time afterwards, on being told that Rundle attributed the "apostolical constitutions" to the fourth century, he threw out the sarcasm "make him dean of Durham and they will not be written till the fifth."
The good offices of his friend's father William Talbot, then bishop of Salisbury, were quickly exercised. Rundle was ordained deacon on 29 July, 1716, and priest a week later. He was at once appointed the bishop's domestic chaplain and before the year ran out was made prebendary of the cathedral church. In July of the following year he was promoted to a better prebendal stall, in April 1720 he became archdeacon of Wilts and in January 172 1 he succeeded his friend, Talbot, in the treasurership of the cathedral. These preferments did not exhaust the bishop's good will, for he gave him in 1719 the vicarage of Inglesham and in 1720 the rectory of Poulshot, both of them in Wiltshire. ​Edward Talbot died young in December, 1720, leaving a widow and child in poor circumstances. Rundle and he had lived together for ten years "in the most tender and endeared friendship." Their life in college and in the church promoted their social intercourse, "when absent our letters were the pictures of our souls and every post we conversed." Widow and daughter — the "dearest Kitty" of Rundle's letters, who afterwards became well-known as the friend and correspondent of Elizabeth Carter — lived as members of Seeker's household until his death in 1768 when they inherited from him a fortune of £13,000.
Bishop Talbot was translated to Durham in October 1721 and Rundle accompanied him as his domestic chaplain, retaining the archdeaconry and the treasurership in his old diocese of Salisbury. In his new situation he was even more amply rewarded. One of its well-endowed canonries was conferred upon him in January 1722 and a still better stall was bestowed upon him in November of that year. From 1722 he enjoyed the emoluments of the fat benefice of Sedgefield, and if he resigned that living in 1728 it was to succeed as master of Sherburn hospital, a desirable post in value and position, for it was situated less than two miles from the city of Durham. Hearne in his collections (viii., 100), calls him "a divine of 1500 libs per annum preferment who hath done or is about doing very honourably for Exeter college, having founded or being about to found and endow two Lectures there, viz., I in Natural Philosophy and I in Greek, each to be 50 libs per annum," but this rumour does not seem to have ended in fact.
During these years of quiet prosperity Rundle retained his old friendships and made fresh accessions to the list. Arthur Onslow, the famous speaker of the House of Commons, had sought his friendship "on the account of a public dispute he had against Tindal and Collins at the Grecian coffee-house ​in defence of Christianity." Berkeley became acquainted with him about 1721 and in 1725 received from him the munificent sum of £100 in support of his charitable works at Bermuda. His interest in the American colonies was further shown by his acting as a clerical trustee for the establishment of the colony of Georgia.
There are several competitors for the distinction of having been the first person to detect the beauties of James Thomson's poem of "Winter," and Rundle is one of them. After its publication, he recommended the poet to the patronage of Charles Talbot, who rose to the position of lord chancellor and through his influence Thomson went in 1730-1 on the continent as "bear-leader" to the chancellor's eldest son, Charles Richard Talbot. The young man died in September 1733 and Thomson opened the first part of his poem "Liberty 1735" with some lines in his praise. Thomson, in the poem which he printed in June 1737 on the chancellor, apostrophised Rundle as "thou darling friend! thou brother of his soul!" and as straying "on the pebbled shore, pensive" near Derry, driven from his "native sunshine" and his friends "the sunshine of the soul, by slanderous zeal and politics infirm." Thomson on Rundle's suggestion began a play on the story of Socrates but was dissuaded by three of his friends, Pitt, Lyttelton and Gilbert West, from continuing it.
Talbot's enormous income as bishop of Durham never sufficed for his profuse expenditure. To play the part of prince-bishop was congenial to him and he enjoyed appearing on horseback at all the reviews which the King attended. His domestic chaplain Rundle partook of his lavishness; he was throughout life fond of the pleasures of the table, and his "cheesecake" parties gradually expanded into more profuse entertainments. Though he took no pleasure in "the murders and assassinations of innocent hares and rabbits" ​he did not scruple to partake of them as food. Some of his special dishes are recorded in Stukeley's diary, "bp Rundle is famous for candyed carrot, pea-capons, peeper pye, i.e., young new-hatched turkeys put into a pye, taken out by spoonfuls, 6 veal burrs stuffed with the ropes of 50 woodcocks. He calls a sirloin of beef clumsy plenty. Young hares fed with brocoli. By this means he treated himself into £4000 p. ann." No wonder that if he often partook of these dishes he found himself a valetudinarian before he was 45 years old, and that in the winter of 1733-4 he was dangerously ill!
A torrent of passionate controversy burst over Rundle in December, 1733 and continued to flow all the next year. The see of Gloucester had become vacant and Talbot, the lord chancellor, urged the promotion of his friend. "Codex" Gibson, the bishop of London who for many years of Walpole's administration ruled over matters ecclesiastical, protested against the appointment, urging that Rundle was a deist. His enemies gave out that his "warm fancy and brilliant conversation" had led him into serious indiscretions of speech. "I am an open talkative man" he allowed, but he coupled with it a warm denial that he had expressed at any time a disbelief in the christian religion.
The most serious of the accusations against him came from Richard Venn a man of high character beneficed in the diocese of London, whose sense of duty led him, though a Devonian like Rundle, to interpose in the fray. He stated that on one occasion when in company with Rundle and Robert Cannon, a dean who spoke in a jocular way on serious matters, the former had said, that were he a "justice of the peace when Abraham purposed to offer up his son Isaac he should have thought it his duty to have laid Abraham by the heels, as a knave or a madman," and he threatened to oppose Rundle at his confirmation in Bow ​church. Attempts were made to dissuade him from this act but all efforts were futile. Whiston whose honesty is above suspicion made personal enquiries, as a friend of both parties, into the truth of the allegation and came to the conclusion that the charge was made in error.
An emissary from the lord chancellor called at Venn's rectory and hinted that the deanery of Wells would soon be vacant. "Let the chancellor know that I scorn his bribe" was the response. The interviewer then changed his tone with the prophecy that Venn's action would prove his ruin. The rector having obtained from his wife the assurance that she could support them with her needle and from his son the expression that he would like to be a waterman, calmly dismissed the agent with the words "there, sir, report what you have heard to the chancellor and tell him I defy him." The incident calls to mind the interview of Andrew Marvell with the emissary from Charles II. Venn with his wonted openness spoke shortly afterwards in a bookseller's shop of Conyers Middleton as an "apostate priest." Conyers with more vigour than usual, retaliated with the sentence "should I chance to describe a certain priest by the title of the Accuser, there is scarce a man in England who would not think on Mr. V—."
The see of Gloucester was unfilled for more than a year, throughout which period rumour after rumour prevailed in political circles, and pamphlet after pamphlet issued from the press. Sir Thomas Robinson, the "long Sir Thomas," wrote to lord Carlisle that the lord Chancellor having been told that his nominee was never to be a bishop had declared that should the congé d'élire be issued for the election of any other person he would give up the seals. Sixteen pamphlets, most of them with titles of portentous length, are entered under Rundle's name in the catalogue of the British Museum library as dealing with this protracted controversy and among ​the clerical disputants were Maddox afterwards bishop of Worcester and Arthur Ashley Sykes, who wrote under the disguise of "a gentleman of the Temple."
Two less reputable controversialists afterwards enlisted themselves in the struggle. One of them was Arnall the hack-writer in Walpole's pay. The second was Richard Savage, a man inspired by hatred to "the claims of ecclesiastical power," and by friendship for Rundle's friend, "Jamie Thomson." He produced a poem with the innocent title of "the progress of a divine," tracing the career of a profligate priest to the highest preferments in the church and amiably insinuating that such a man was sure to be under the patronage of bishop Gibson. This was too much for the clergy and Savage was brought before the court of King's bench on a charge of obscenity. The defence consisted of the usual plea that the poem had been written for the promotion of decency in public life, and lord Hardwicke, after lauding the purity and excellence of the writings of the accused dismissed the information.
Mawson, who died bishop of Ely refused the see of Gloucester because he thought that Rundle had been improperly set aside. Martin Benson, who had married the sister of Seeker was with difficulty induced to accept it. The see of Derry opportunely became vacant and Seeker wrote that it might be filled in such a manner as to vacate a good deanery in England for Rundle, a preferment which would be thoroughly in accordance with his wishes. The deanery of Durham was suggested as fitting for him. But this scheme fell through and Rundle was sent to what he more than once calls his "splendid banishment" in Ireland, being consecrated as bishop on 3 August 1735.
The wits of England were enthusiastic in his praise. Pope in his letters to Swift declared that he "never saw a man so seldom whom I liked so much" and protested in his poems ​that "Rundle has a heart." Swift a month after the consecration, had dined thrice in his company and had found out his only fault, "he drinks no wine and I drink nothing else." A third friend, Lyttleton, in his Persian letters dwelt on his christian virtues, "if the visible mark of your religion be meekness, or charity, or justice or temperance or piety all these are most conspicuous in the doctor." The truest of all was no doubt the estimate of Pulteney. "Rundle is far from being the great and learned man his friends would have the world believe him and much farther yet from the bad man his enemies represent him." A year after the appointment Swift still dwelt on his good qualities and the affection in which he was held. "He is a most excessive Whig but without any appearing rancour, . . . besides, £3000 a year is an invincible sweetness."
Rundle crossed to Ireland with the determination of ruling his diocese in a manner acceptable to his clergy. He took with him an Irish clergyman as his chaplain, which was, says Swift, "a very wise and popular action," and he was resolved to "prefer those educated in the country, with regard only to their merit and learning." One exception to this rule he contemplated. This was Thomas Birch the antiquary and biographer to whom he had hoped, these were his words in May 1738, to have been in a position ere this to settle in Ireland. The gift offered at first might be small, but if life lasted a more lucrative preferment should be his reward. His diocese contained "35 beneficed clergymen . . . and they are all regular, decent and neighbourly; each hath considerable and commendable general learning but not one is eminent for any particular branch of knowledge," an estimate which will remind the reader of Dr. Johnson's comment on Scotch learning. The curates were more troublesome, for not infrequently they were "fathers of 8 or 10 children, without any thing but an allowance of £40 a year ​to support them." Three of them had been discarded from the diocese, but "though refused certificates by me and my clergy have obtained good livings in America and found room for repentance."
Very soon after his arrival at his see Rundle began rebuilding a house at Dublin. In January 1738-9 six weeks would suffice for its completion. The whole of it was handsome but only the room in which he had lodged his books was magnificent. Many critics had censured him for building a house "too splendid for me in my station" and too elegant for an Irish prelate. He had better have locked his money in a chest or "sent to France for social claret," which was more in accordance with Irish custom at that time, but the bishop preferred to spend it among Irish workmen so as to provide "beef and potatoes for their hungry families."
The glory of the structure was the library. It was 64 feet long, 20 feet wide and only 16 high. At the west side was the chimney, "formed in the best taste, of an Irish marble of an excellent polish" over which he purposed placing memorials of those members of the Talbot family who were dearest to his heart and to whom he owed his rise in life. The entablature of the Ionic order which was round the whole room was supported by 32 three quarters columns on a pedestal and the "frieze was enriched with the Vitruvian scroll adorned with its proper foliages." A bow window at the east commanded a view of the mountains in Wales and the highest hills in Ireland; "the ocean with its islands, a large river, a harbour rich with ships, a city . . . woods and meadows are mingled together in the most amusing contrast." Three windows on the south supplied a view of "nursery gardens and meadows ever verdant." His chief pleasure was to collect his friends around him in this room." Gentlemen and ladies, old and young, rich and ​poor, soldiers and bishops meet together often in my library."
The bishop, one April, described his health as like the season, one hour sunshine, the next clouds. Lord Orrery wrote to old Tom Southerne (January 1735-6) that doctor Rundle's condition "mends apace, at which wine-bibbers are offended and water-bibbers rejoice." He was in England in the spring of 1737 and active in the interests of his friends. He was eager for the wedding of John Talbot to Miss Decker and on 21 May he officiated at the marriage of "Leonidas" Glover to "the handsomest woman in England, worth all the nine muses." In January 1738-9 the winter had its influence on his "crazy constitution" but the "noble cordial ipecacuanha, frequently taken, undoes all the mischiefs of the weather." At Dublin the winters were the finest and the summers the dreariest that could be imagined. It was his design in Sept. 1740 to spend the winter and spring in London at John Talbot's in Red Lion Square and when summer came and he had visited some other friends to return to Ireland "for ever." He had grown too old and inactive for any further expeditions but the health and spirits which he had recovered led him to anticipate further happiness "talking in an elbow chair."
Slowly it came home to the valetudinarian that the remaining days of his life were few in number. In March 1742-3 he wrote to Archdeacon S., "Adieu, for ever . . . believe me, my friend, there is no comfort in this world, but a life of virtue and piety ... I have lived to be conviva Satur, passed through good report and evil report, have not been injured more than outwardly by the last and solidly benefitted by the former." He died at his house in William Street, Dublin on 15 April 1743 and was buried in St Peter's churchyard, where a handsome monument was erected to his memory. The bulk of his fortune, £20,000 was left to John ​Talbot. In person he was slender and "not inelegantly formed"; his portrait was in the collection of Seeker when bishop of Oxford.
The sermons of Rundle have passed into the limbo of forgetfulness. His "anticipation of the posthumous character of sir Richard Steele" has long ceased to influence the opinion of the literary world. But his letters to Mrs Barbara Sandys, the daughter of a Kyrle who claimed kinship with "the man of Ross" and the wife of a Gloucestershire squire, are still worthy of perusal. They were edited by the rev. James Dallaway who asked for information about Rundle and obtained some particulars (Gent. Mag. 1789, p. 206) of him from Thomas Taylor, of Denbury near Ashburton, the son of his old friend and the owner of many letters by him, which have probably now perished. The bishop sends her books and periodicals, discourses amiably on literary and theological questions, and occasionally mentions a personal incident in the career of a man once prominent in life. His letters show him sympathetic in disposition and grateful for past acts of kindness. He was far from being the least worthy member of the episcopal bench in Ireland.