--as soon as suits with public
convenience; but if you ask me as a friend whether Dean Berkeley should
continue in America, expecting the payment of L200,000, I advise him by
all means to return to Europe, and to give up his present expectations."

When acquainted by his friend Percival with this frank statement,
Berkeley accepted the blow as a philosopher should. Brave and resolutely
patient, he prepared for departure. His books he left as a gift to the
library of Yale College, and his farm of Whitehall was made over to the
same institution, to found three scholarships for the encouragement of
Greek and Latin study. His visit was thus far from being barren of
results. He supplied a decided stimulus to higher education in the
colonies, in that he gave out counsel and help to the men already
working for the cause of learning in the new country. And he helped to
form in Newport a philosophical reunion, the effects of which were long
felt.

In the autumn of 1731 he sailed from Boston for London, where he arrived
in January of the next year. There a bishopric and twenty years of
useful and honourable labour awaited him. He died at Oxford, whence he
had removed from his see at Cloyne, on Sunday evening, January 14, 1753,
while reading aloud to his family the burial service portion of
Corinthians. He was buried in the Cathedral of Christ Church.

Of the traces he left at Newport, there still remain, beside the house,
a chair in which he was wont to write, a few books and papers, the organ
presented by him to Trinity Church, the big family portrait, by
Smibert--and the little grave in Trinity churchyard, where, on the south
side of the Kay monument, sleeps "Lucia Berkeley, obiit., the fifth of
September, 1731." Moreover the memory of the man's beautiful, unselfish
life pervades this section of Rhode Island, and the story of his
sweetness and patience under a keen and unexpected disappointment
furnishes one of the most satisfying pages in our early history.

The life of Berkeley is indeed greater than anything that he did, and
one wonders not as one explores the young preacher's noble and endearing
character that the distraught Vanessa fastened upon him, though she
knew him only by reputation, as one who would make it his sacred duty to
do all in his power to set her memory right in a censorious world.

THE MAID OF MARBLEHEAD

Of all the romantic narratives which enliven the pages of early colonial
history, none a