James PETIVER, when Sir Hans first became acquainted with him, was serving, as an apprentice, the then apothecary of St. Bartholomew’s Hospital. He afterwards became apothecary to the Charter House. He had, in one way or other, made for himself a singularly extensive acquaintance amongst seafaring men; and by their help had established an almost world-wide correspondence with people interested in natural history, or possessed of special opportunities for gathering its rarities. Of such rarities, SLOANE somewhere says, ‘He had procured, I believe, a greater quantity than any man before him.’ But in course of time his collections overpowered his means, or his industry, for the work of preservation and arrangement. When, at the collector’s death, they passed into the possession of his friend, choice specimens were found, not in order, but in heaps. The due classification and ordering occupied many hands during many months. [Sidenote: SLOANE’S CORRESPONDENCE, AND HIS CHARITIES.] The charities of human life were not, in the breast of Sir Hans SLOANE, choked either by the various allurements and preoccupations of science, or by the ceaseless toils of a busy and anxious profession. He was a very liberal giver, and also a discriminating and conscientious giver. I have rarely seen a correspondence which mirrors more strikingly than does that of SLOANE, a just and equable attention to multifarious and often conflicting claims. The multiplicity of the claims was, indeed, as notable as was the patience with which they were listened to. Not to dwell upon the innumerable gropings after money of which, in one form or other, every man who attains any sort of eminence is sure to have his share (but of which Sir Hans SLOANE seems to have had a Benjamin’s portion) or upon interminable requests for the use of influence, at Court, at the Treasury, at the London Hospitals, at the Council Boards of the Royal Society or of the College of Physicians, and elsewhere; his fame brought upon him a mass of appeals and solicitations from utter strangers, busied with less worldly aims and pursuits. Enthusiastic students of the deep things of theology sought his opinion on abstruse and mystical doctrines. Advocates of perpetual peace, and of the transformation, at a breath, of the Europe of the eighteenth century into a new Garden of Eden, implored him to endorse their theories, or to interpret their dreams. His replies are sometimes both characteristic and amusing; none the less so for the fact that his power of writing was, at all times, far beneath his other mental powers and attainments. Now and then, though rarely, a touch of humour lights up the homeliness of phrase.