in, by George Vernon." The writer, alluding to the prior Life
prefixed to the posthumous folio, asserts that, in borrowing something
from Barnard, Barnard had also "Excerpted passages out of _my papers_,
the very words as well as matter, when he had them in his custody, as
any reader may discern who will be at the pains of comparing the Life
now published with what is extant before the _Keimalea Ecclesiastica_;"
the quaint, pedantic title, after the fashion of the day, of the
posthumous folio.

This strong accusation seemed countenanced by a dedication to the son
and the nephew of Heylin. Roused now into action, the indignant Barnard
soon produced a more complete Life, to which he prefixed "A necessary
Vindication." This is an unsparing castigation of Vernon, the literary
pet whom the Heylins had fondled in preference to their learned
relative.[145] The long-smothered family grudge, the suppressed
mortifications of literary pride, after the subterraneous grumblings of
twenty years, now burst out, and the volcanic particles flew about in
caustic pleasantries and sharp invectives; all the lava of an author's
vengeance, mortified by the choice of an inferior rival.

It appears that Vernon had been selected by the son of Heylin, in
preference to his brother-in-law, Dr. Barnard, from some family
disagreement. Barnard tells us, in describing Vernon, that "No man,
except himself, who was totally ignorant of the doctor, and all the
circumstances of his life, would have engaged in such a work, which was
never primarily laid out for him, but by reason of some unhappy
differences, as usually fall out in families; and he, who loves to put
his oar in troubled waters, instead of closing them up, hath made them
wider."

Barnard tells his story plainly. Heylin the son, intending to have a
more elaborate Life of his father prefixed to his works, Dr. Barnard,
from the high reverence in which he held the memory of his
father-in-law, offered to contribute it. Many conferences were held, and
the son entrusted him with several papers. But suddenly his caprice,
more than his judgment, fancied that George Vernon was worth John
Barnard. The doctor affects to describe his rejection with the most
stoical indifference. He tells us--"I was satisfied, and did patiently
expect the coming forth of the work, not only term after term, but year
after year--a very considerable time for such a tract. But at last,
instead of the Life, came a letter to me