London on 15th April, 1788. Mrs. Delany was as accomplished as she was good and sensible. She was a good musician, and a very clever painter, and peculiarly skilful in imitating flowers in cut paper work. One of her biographers says, that "the effect was superior to what painting could have produced, and that she would sometimes put a real leaf of a plant by the side of one of her own creation, which the eye could not detect even when she herself pointed it out." A friend who has drawn her private character says—"She had every virtue that could adorn the human heart, with a mind so pure and so uncontaminated by the world, that it was matter of astonishment how she could have lived in its more splendid scenes without being tainted with one single atom of its folly or indiscretion."—J. F. W.
DELANY, Patrick, D.D., an Irishman distinguished for his wit, learning, and social qualities, was born in 1685. His origin was humble, his father having been servant to Sir John Rennell, a judge in one of the Irish courts, who contrived however to give him a good education, and the boy's own ability secured him a sizarship in Trinity college, Dublin. His course in the university was distinguished; he obtained a fellowship, became celebrated as a brilliant preacher, and was noticed by the chancellor. Sir Constantine Phipps, for his "learning, virtue, discretion, and good sense." Delany now made the acquaintance of Swift, and afterwards of Dr. Sheridan, with whom his genial and lively disposition and happy talent for writing light witty verses, made him an especial favourite, and a constant visitor at the dean's. In due time Delany became a senior fellow, and by that means enjoyed a considerable income, which, however, he appears to have contrived to spend with at least as much facility as he obtained it. When Lord Cartaret was lord-lieutenant of Ireland, Swift, who was in habits of close intimacy with him, introduced his friend with a strong recommendation for his advancement in the church, to which was added the support of the archbishop of Dublin. Delany's own abilities, too, were highly appreciated by a man of the viceroy's taste and refinement, and he soon became almost domesticated at the castle. Unfortunately he took a prominent part in a dispute respecting college discipline, siding with the aggressors, and giving personal offence to the provost by alluding to the subject in a sermon, and thus obstructed his preferment. In 1725 he was presented by the chapter of Christ church with the living of St. John. This he could not hold with his fellowship without a royal dispensation. Primate Boulter, however, from political reasons, took care that the dispensation should be refused—"He is a great tory," wrote the prelate to the duke of Newcastle, "and has a great influence in these parts; and it were to be wished, for his majesty's service, that he might be tempted by some good country living to quit the colleges; but if he has St. John's with his fellowship, there can be no hope of his removal." This object seems to have been accomplished in 1727, when the college presented him with a living of £100 in the north of Ireland, and Lord Cartaret adding the chancellorship of Christ church of about equal value, whereupon he resigned his fellowship. But Delany entered the world a poor man. His benevolent and expensive habits had consumed a heretofore large income, and the parson, with £200 a year, became soon embarrassed; "having," as Swift says, "squandered away all his annual income in a manner, which, although perhaps proper for a clergyman without a family, will not be for the advantage of his character, either on the exchange or at a baker's shop." In 1730 another £100 a year was added by a prebend in St. Patrick's cathedral. About the same time he addressed a poetic epistle to Lord Cartaret which concluded with two lines happily descriptive both of his necessities and his tastes:—
" My lord, I'd wish to pay the debts I owe—
I'd wish, besides—to build and to bestow."
This epistle produced nothing for Delany. Party spirit at the time ran high, and whoever, like Delany, was moderate—not to say neutral—was sure to be set down by the government as an opponent and a tory. His friend Swift did not fail to vindicate Delany, writing thus—"The doctor has not in any of his writings, his sermons, his actions, his discourses, or his company, discovered one single principle of whig or tory." Delany now gave himself up to the duties of his calling, not, however, withdrawing from the pursuits of literature, or the society of the learned and witty men of whom he was himself the delight. Having composed a work entitled "Religion Examined with Candour," he went to London furnished by Boulter with a letter of recommendation to Gibson, bishop of London. The work, though ingenious, learned, and brilliant, was deficient in reasoning. His visit procured him the intimacy of Bolingbroke, Pope, Gay, and others; and, what was of more importance to his success, the hand of Mrs. Margaret Tenison, a widow of large fortune. Delany was now free to gratify his tastes, both for literature, hospitality, and benevolence. On his return to Dublin, he gave £20 a year to be distributed amongst the students of Trinity college, and occupied himself with writing, and the society of his old friends. To enjoy these last he built a villa, which was celebrated in his own day, and still exists as an object of interest. The site chosen was the top of the hill in the village of Glasnevin, commanding a fine view of Dublin. The name given was Heldelville, signifying that it was the joint production of Dr. Helsham and himself; but the first syllable was soon omitted—not having a suitable sound for a doctor of divinity; and Delville thenceforth was the talismanic name for collecting all that was learned, witty, and social—ridiculed and immortalized by wits and statesmen.
" You, forsooth, your all must squander
On that poor spot called Delville, yonder,"
says the writer of a squib called a Christmas-box for Dr. Delany; while Swift thus concludes a mock description of it:—
" In short, in all your boasted seat,
There's nothing but yourself is great."
Here Swift spent much of his time, and there is a tradition that he privately published his fierce satire, "The Legion Club," at Delville. That he did so is highly probable; indeed, many years ago an old printing-press was discovered concealed in a lumber-room there. Amongst those who delighted in the society of "Dr. Delany's set," was a Mrs. Pendarves, a widow of fortune, a woman of amiability, taste, and accomplishments, and honoured by the friendship of George III. and his queen. Her friendship for Delany ripened, after the death of his wife, into love, and they were united in 1743, a union which, happier than his first, lasted for twenty-five years in uninterrupted enjoyment. In 1735 Delany was promoted to the deanery of Down, and withdrew himself much from society. In 1739 he published an eccentric pamphlet upon polygamy, and in 1740 "An historical account of the Life and Reign of David, king of Israel." After Swift's death Delany came to the rescue of his character from the ungenerous attack of Lord Orrery, and in his "Observations on Lord Orrery's remarks upon the life and writings of Dr. Jonathan Swift," displayed not only his great ability and spirit, but his fidelity to his old friend, and had the consolation of removing much of the prejudice caused by Lord Orrery's book. He died at Bath in May, 1768, leaving little behind but his books and furniture. Delany was a man of great virtues, endowments, and acquirements,—all coloured with foibles that made him not the less lovable though decidedly eccentric. Learned and witty, yet simple, unsophisticated and vain; one who could see and expose the weaknesses of others, yet expose his own with the utmost carelessness; ever poor, with constant supplies of wealth; benevolent, hospitable, and generous—he was the charm of his own social circle, and maintained throughout his life those high moral principles which made him the truest of friends, and enabled Swift to say of him—"He is one of those very few within my knowledge on whom an access of fortune hath made no change."—J. F. W.
DELARAM, Francis, the most distinguished English engraver of the seventeenth century, was born in London in 1590. Little reliance can be given to many anecdotes related of his life; but this is certain, that his collection of portraits of eminent men of his age is equally interesting and clever as it is rare and sought for. The most admired amongst his prints is that of "John, Bishop of Lincoln." The date of his death is put down by Strutt as 1627, leading to the supposition, scarcely credible, that he was then only thirty-seven years old.—R. M.
DELAROCHE, Paul, or more properly Hippolyte, the most genial of all modern French painters, was born at Paris in 1797. His career rans smoothly almost from beginning to end. Indeed if we except, first, the immense grief which the loss of his adored and beautiful wife (the daughter of that other champion of French art, Horace Vernet) caused him; then, the disappointment he experienced on having to decline the order to decorate the interior of the church of the Magdalen in Paris (a work which had been intrusted to him, and the preliminary studies for which he had already been making during a year and
