ultimately failed him. At length the
butchers deserted him, and, falling from one disgrace to another, he sank
into dirt and debauchery, and died in 1750 at the age of sixty-four,
remembered in the world only by being pilloried in the Dunciad.

"Embrown'd with native bronze, lo! Henley stands,
Tuning his voice, and balancing his hands;
How fluent nonsense trickles from his tongue,
How sweet the periods neither said nor sung.
Still break the benches, Henley, with thy strain,
While Sherlock, Hare, and Gibson preach in vain."

The orator's contribution consists but of two notes; the first to Selwyn--

"I dine at twelve all the year, but shall be glad to take a glass
with you at the King's Arms any day from four to six. If I have
disobliged Mr Parsons, (who I hear was with you,) or any of you
gentlemen, I never intended it, and ask your pardons. I shall be
proud to oblige my Lord Carteret, or you, or the rest, at any time.
Pray let them see this."

"J. HENLEY."

There appears to have been some kind of riot at one of Henley's lectures,
probably a rough burlesque of his manner, in which Selwyn, then a student
of Oxford, made himself conspicuous. At least the letter is addressed to
him.

"I am accountable for the peace of my congregation; and among the rules
and articles of my consent and conditions as owner and minister, one rule
is, to go out directly, forfeiting what has been given, if any person
cannot or will not preserve those conditions; for the smallest
circumstance of disorder has been inflamed to the highest outrage. The
bishop's nephew began something of the kind two months ago, and made me
retribution; so have others, and I must send an attorney to warn them not
to come whom I suspect hereafter. You have been at his sport before."

We now come to a man of more importance, Richard Rigby, the "blushing
Rigby" of Junius. He was the son of a linen-draper, who, as factor to the
South Sea Company, acquired considerable property. This, however, his son,
who had adopted public life as his pursuit, rapidly squandered in
electioneering, in pleasure, and the irresistible vice of the time, play.
Frederic, Prince of Wales, was the first object of all needy politicians,
and Rigby for a while attached himself to this feeble personage with all
the zeal of a prospective placeman. But the prince remained too long in
opposition for the fidelity of courtiership, and Rigby glided over to the
Duke of