Immediately after his arrival in London, he returned all the private subscriptions that had been advanced for the support of his undertaking.

The fund, which had been calculated upon for his College, had been chiefly appropriated as a marriage portion of the Princess Ann, on her nuptials with the Prince of Orange.  There remained, however, L10,000, which General Oglethorpe had interest enough in Parliament to obtain for the purpose of carrying over and settling foreign and other Protestants in his new Colony of Georgia in America;[1] “having first paid Dean Berkeley the compliment of asking his consent to the application for the money, before he moved for it in Parliament.”

[Footnote 1:  See Journal of the House of Commons, May 10, 1733.]

He passed the latter part of his life at Oxford; and deceased January 14th, 1753, aged 74.

The character of this worthy prelate was expressed in few words by Bishop Atterbury, who, having heard much of him, wished to see him.  Accordingly, he was one day introduced to him by the Earl of Berkeley.  After some time, Mr. Berkeley quitted the room; on which the Earl said to the Bishop, “Does my cousin answer your Lordship’s expectations?” The Bishop, lifting up his hands in astonishment, replied, “So much understanding, so much knowledge, so much innocence, and such humility, I did not think had been the portion of any but angels, till I saw this gentleman.”

Mr. Pope sums up Bishop Berkeley’s character in one line.  After mentioning some particular virtues that distinguished other Prelates, he ascribes

  “To Berkeley every virtue under heaven.”

I close these memoirs of the early companion, and congenial and lasting friend of Oglethorpe, with the verses referred to, written by him.

“ON THE PROSPECT OF ARTS AND SCIENCES IN AMERICA.”

  The muse, disgusted at an age and time,
    Barren of every glorious theme,
  In distant lands now waits a better clime,
    Producing subjects worthy fame.

  In happy climes, where from the genial sun
    And virgin earth such scenes ensue,
  The force of art by nature seems outdone,
    And fancied beauties by the true: 

  In happy climes, the seat of innocence,
    Where nature guides and virtue rules;
  Where men shall not impose, for truth and sense,
    The pedantry of courts and schools: 

  There shall be seen another golden age,
    The rise of empire and of arts;
  The good and great inspiring epic page,
    The wisest heads and noblest hearts.

  Not such as Europe breeds in her decay,
    Such as she bred when fresh and young,
  When heavenly flame did animate her clay,
    By future ages shall be sung.

  Westward the course of empire takes its way,—­
    The four first acts already past,
  A fifth shall close the drama with the day,—­
    Time’s noblest offspring is the last.