This etext was produced by Marjorie Fulton.



For easier searching, letters have been numbered.  Only the
page numbers that appear in the table of contents have been
retained in the text of letters.  Footnotes have been regrouped
as endnotes following the letter to which they relate.






                      The Letters of Horace Walpole,
                              Earl of Orford:

              Including Numerous letters Now First Published
                      From The Original Manuscripts.


                             In Four Volumes.
                                 Vol. IV.

                                1770-1797.

                     Philadelphia: Lea And Blanchard.

                                   1842.


                         C. Sherman & Co. Printers
                           19 St. James Street.




                           Contents Of Vol. IV.

             [Those Letters now first collected are marked N.]



                                   1770.

1. To Sir David Dalrymple, January 1.-Thanks for his "History
of Scottish Councils." The spirit of controversy the curse of
modern times. Attack on the House of Commons. Outcry against
grievances. Despotism and unbounded licentiousness--(N.) 25

2. To the same, Jan. 23.-Mr. Charles Yorke's rapid history.
Lord Chatham's attempt to enlarge the representation. Sir
George Savile and Mr. Burke's attack on the House of Commons.
Modern Catilines. Corruption of senators. Wilkes, Parson Horne,
and JUnius--[N.] 26

3. To George Montagu, Esq. March 31.-Print of Alderman
Backwell--28

4. To the same, May 6.-Backwardness of the season. Marriages.
Masquerades. New establishment at Almack's. Intercourse between
age and youth--28

5. To the same, June 11.-Description of Lord Dysart's house at
Ham--29

6. To the same, June 29.-Promising a visit on his way to Stowe.
Death of Alderman Beckford--31

7. To the same, July 1.-On not finding him at home--32

8. To the same, July 7.-Account of his visit to Stowe, Lines
addressed to Princess Amelia--33

9. To the Earl of Strafford, July 9.-Visit to Stowe, Alderman
Beckford's death--35

10. To the Hon. H. S. Conway, July 12.-Visit to Stowe--36

11. To George Montagu, Esq. July 14.-Reversion of Walpole's
place--37

12. To the same, July 15-Correcting a mistake in his last--38

13. To the same Oct. 3.-Fit of the gout. The gate of age--38

14. To the same, Oct. 16--39

15. To the Earl of Strafford, Oct. 16.-Convalescence. Dispute
with Spain--39

16. To the Earl of Charlemont, Oct. 17.-In answer to an
application on behalf of an artist, and a wish to be permitted
to read his tragedy--[N.] 40

17. To the Rev. Mr. Cole, Nov. 15.-Soliciting his interest in
Cambridgeshire for Mr. Brand--41

18. To the same, Nov. 26.-Mr. Bentham's "History of Ely
Cathedral"--41

19. To the same, Dec. 20.-Mr. Essex's projected "History of
Gothic Architecture." Antiquarian Society. Dean Milles.
Gentlemen engravers at Cambridge--42

20. To the Hon. H. S. Conway, Dec. 25.-Planting of
poplar-pines. Dryden's "King Arthur" altered by Garrick--43

21. To the same, Dec. 29.-Change in the French ministry.
Overthrow of the Duc de Choiseul. Banishment of the Duc de
Praslin. New law arrangements at home--44


                                   1771.

22. To the Rev. Mr. Cole, Jan. 10.-Suggestions for getting the
projected History of Gothic Architecture patronized by the
King--45

23. To the same, May -29.-Letters of Edward the Sixth--46

24. To the same, June 11.-On the various attacks upon his
writings. Archaeologia, or Old Women's Logic. Mr. Masters--47

25. To the Hon. H. S. Conway, June 17.-Visit to Ampthill.
Houghton Park. Mausoleum of the Bruces--[N.] 48

26. To the Earl of Strafford, June 20 . -Intended visit to
Paris. Madame du Deffand. New French ministry. The Duc
d'Aiguillon. Life of Cellini. Charles Fox--49

27. To the Rev. Mr. Cole, June 22.-On the cross to be erected
at Ampthill to the memory of Catherine of Arragon--50

28. To the same, June 24.-Thanks for some prints and letters--
51

29. To John Chute, Esq. July 9.-Account of his journey to
Paris--51

30. To the Hon. H. S, Conway, July 30.-French politics.
Distress at court. Vaudevilles against Madame du Barry.
Amusements at Paris. Gaillard's "Rivalit`e de la France et de
l'Angleterre"--52

31. To John Chute, Esq. Aug. 5.-Progress of English gardening
in France. New arr`ets. General distress. State of Le Soeor's
paintings at the Chartreuse. The charm of viewing churches and
convents dispelled. Shock at learning the death of Gray--55

32. To the Hon. H. S. Conway, Aug. 11.-Reflection on the death
of Gray. Lady Beauchamp. Opium a false friend--57

33. To the Rev. Mr. Cole, Aug. 12.-Reflections on the death of
Gray--58

34. To the Earl of Strafford, Aug. 25.-Climate of Paris. French
economy and retrenchment. Mademoiselle Guimard. Mademoiselle
Heinel. Suppression of the French Parliaments. Ruinous
condition of the palaces and pictures--59

35. To the Hon. H. S. Conway, Sept. 7.-Return to England.
Deplorable condition of the French finances--61

36. To the Rev. Mr. Cole, Sept. 10.-Thanks for some particulars
of Gray's death. Dr. James Browne. Gray's portrait--62

37. To the same, Oct. 12.-Mr. Essex's design for the cross at
Ampthill. Calvin and Luther--63

'38. To the same, Oct. 23.-Armour of Francis the First. Ancient
window from Bexhill. Tomb of Capoccio--63


                                   1772.

39. To the Hon. H. S. Conway, January 7.-Effects of an
explosion of powder-mills at Hounslow--64

40. To the Rev. Mr. Cole, Jan. 28.-Dean Milles. Relics of Gray.
Letters on the English nation. Garrick and his writings.
Wilkes's squint--65

41. To the same, June 9--66

42. To the same, June 17.-Thanks for some literary researches.
Letters of Sir Thomas Wyat. Lives of Leland, Hearne, and Wood.
Browne Willis. Peter Gore and Thomas Callaghan--66

43. To the Hon. H. S. Conway, June 22.-Panic occasioned by
Fordyce's bankruptcy. Cherubims. Exercise. Letters of Guy
Patin. Charles Fox's annuities. Lives of Leland, Hearne, and
Wood. Entry in Wood's Diary. Freemasonry. Peter Gore--68

44. To the Rev. Mr. Cole, July 7.-King Edward's letters.
Portrait of Gray. Death of Mr. West the antiquary. His
collections. Foote's comedy of "The Nabob"--70

45. To the same, July 28.-Archaeologia, or, Old Women's Logic.
Antiquarian Society. Life of Sir Thomas Wyat. William Thomas's
"Peleryne"--70

46. To the same, Aug. 25.-Thanks to Dr. Browne for a goar-stone
and seal belonging to Gray. Lincoln and York cathedrals. Roche
Abbey. Screen of York Minster--71

47. To the same, Aug. 28.-Indolence of age. inquiries after
some prints--72

48. To the same, Nov. 7.-Fit of the gout. Regret at not being
able to see Mr. Essex--73

49. To the same.-On the rapacity of a gentleman who had thinned
Mr. Cole's collection of prints--74

50. To the Countess of Ailesbury, Dec. 20.-Account of Reynal's
"Histoire Philosophique et Politique du Commerce des Deux
Indes"--74



                                   1773.

51. To the Rev. Mr. Cole, Jan. 8.-Mr. Masters's answer to
"Historic Doubts." Antiquarians. Freemasonry. Governor Pownall.
Edition of "M`emoires du Comte de Grammont." Dedication to
Madame du Deffand. Gray's "Odes"--75

52. To the same, Feb. 18.-Miscellaneous antiquities. Governor
Pownall's System of Freemasonry. Mrs. Marshall's "Sir Harry
Gaylove, or Comedy in Embryo"--77

53. To the Rev. William Mason, March 2.-Thanks for submitting
his collections for the "Life of Gray" to his correction.
Origin of the differences between them. Takes to himself the
chief blame in the quarrel--(N.) 78

(54. To the same, March 27.-Mason the author of "The Heroic
Epistle to Sir William Chambers." Account of Gray's going
abroad with him--79

55. To the Rev. Mr. Cole, April 7.-ArchaEologia, or Old Women's
Logic. Masters's answer to "Historic Doubts." Sale of Mr.
West's collections--80

56. To the same, April 27.@Character of authors. Shenstone's
and Hughes' "Correspondence." Declines acquaintance with Mr.
Gough. Scotch metaphysicians. Anstey's "New Bath Guide."
"Heroic Epistle." Oliver Goldsmith. Johnson's pension--81

57. To the same, May 4.-On being mentioned by the public orator
at Cambridge--82

58. To the same, May 29.--83

59. To Dr. Berkenhout, July 5.-Declining to supply materials
for a biographical notice of himself--84

60. To the Hon. H. S. Conway, Aug. 30.-Visit to Houghton.
Deplorable state of his nephew's private affairs. Mortification
of family pride--84

61. To the Earl of Strafford, Sept. 24.-Journey to Houghton.
State of his nephew's affairs. Lady Mary Coke's ardour of
peregrination. Beatific print of Lady Huntingdon. Whitfield and
the Methodists. Death of the Duke of Kingston--85

62. To the same, Nov. 15.-Best way of contending with the folly
and vice of the world. Proposed tax on Irish absentees. Lady
Mary Coke's mortifications. Count Gage and Lady Mary Herbert--
86

63. To Lady Mary Coke.-On her ardour of peregrination--87

64. To the Hon. Mrs. Grey, Dec. 9.-Advice from Dr. Walpole to
Lady Blandford suffering from a fit of the gout--89

65. To Sir David Dalrymple, Dec. 14.-Thanks for his "Remarks on
the History of Scotland"--[N.] 90



1774.

66. To the Rev. Mr. Cole, May 4.-Reasons for his long silence.
Temptations to visit Strawberry. Fate of Mr. Bateman's
collection of curiosities. Conjectured fate of Strawberry--90

67. To the same, May 28.-Pennant's "Tour to Scotland and the
Hebrides." Ossian. Fingal's Cave. Brave way of being an
antiquary. Mr. Gough described. Fenn's "Original Letters."
Society of Antiquaries. Old friends--91

68. To the same, June 21.-Efficacy of James's powder. Old
friends in old age our best amusement. Flattery. Queen
Catherine's Cross at Ampthill--93

69. To the Hon. H. S. Conway, June 23.-On the General's tour of
military observation. Politics. Quebec-bill--94

70. To the Rev. Mr. Cole, Aug. 15.-Account of his antiquarian
pursuits. Journey into Worcestershire. Matson. Gloucester
Cathedral. Monument of Edward the Second. Bishop Hooper's
house. Prinknash. Berkeley Castle. Murder of Edward the Second.
Thornbury Castle. The vicar of Thornbury--95

71. To the Hon. H. S. Conway, Aug. 18.-On the General's
introduction to the King of Prussia. Account of his own journey
into Worcestershire--98

72. To the same, Sept. 7.-On the General's visit to the mines
of Cremnitz. Visit to Berkeley Castle. Lord Malton presented at
court in coal-black hair--99

73. To the same, Sept. 27.-Rejoices at the General's flattering
reception at foreign courts. Character of the Germans. Italian
women. Reasons for not taking a trip to Paris. French dirt. New
elections. Mode of passing his time--101

74. To the same, Sept. 28.-Cautions for his conduct at Paris.
Entreaty to take much notice of Madame du Deffand. Her
character. Wishes to have back his letters to her. Mademoiselle
de l'Espinasse. The Duchesse de Choiseul. Monsieur Buffon.
Comte de Broglie--103

75. To the Rev. Mr. Cole, Oct. 11.-Elections. His nephew's
mental alienation--105

76. To the Hon. H. S. Conway, Oct. 16.-New elections. Wilkes's
popularity. Charles Fox. Character of M. de Maurepas. Reasons
for not meeting him at Paris--106

77. To the same, Oct. 29.-On the General's being deprived of a
seat in the new Parliament. Objects to be seen at Paris. Church
of the Celestines. Richelieu's tomb at the Sorbonne. H`otel de
Carnavalet. Versailles. The Luxembourg. Pictures at the Palais
Royal. Church of the Invalids. St. Roch. The Carmelites. The
Val de Grace. The Sainte Chapelle. Tomb of Cond`e; and of
Cardinal Fleury--108

78. To the Countess of Ailesbury, Nov. 7.-Domestic news.
Marriages. Wilkes's popularity. Mr. Burke's success at Bristol.
"Wit-and-a-gamut." Comforts of old age--110

79. To the Earl of Strafford, Nov. 11.-Concert at Isleworth.
Leoni. The Opera. The Duchess of Kingston--112

80. To the Hon. H. S. Conway, Nov. 12. Thanks for his
attentions to Madame du Deffand. American disturbances. General
Burgoyne's "Maid of the Oaks," The Duc de la Vali`ere.
Chevalier de Boufflers. Madame de Caraman. Madame de Mirepoix.
Abb`e Raynal. Mademoiselle de Rancoux. Le Kain. Mo]`e.
Preville. M. Boutin's English garden--112

81. To the same, Nov. 27.-Deaths. Disturbed state of America.
The Duchess of Kingston. French despotism. Madame du Deffand.
Opera. The Bastardella. Death of lord Holland--115

82. To the Hon. H. S. Conway, Dec. 15.-Remonstrances from
America. Lord Chatham--118

83. To the same, Dec. 26.-The Prince de Conti. Proceedings of
the French Parliament. Petitions from America. Burke's
speeches. Duchesse de Lauzun. St. Lambert--119

84. To the same, Dec. 31.-Biblioth`eque du Roi. Abb`e
Barthelemi. Duc de Choiseul. "History of Furness Abbey"--121



                                   1775.

85. To the Rev. Mr. Cole, Jan. 9.-Nell Gwynn's letter. Strutt's
"Manners and Customs of the Inhabitants of England." Duke
Humphrey's skull at St. Albans--124

86. To the Hon. H . S. Conway, Jan. 15.-Party-men. Lord George
Germain. Mr. Burke. Lord Chatham. Marquis of Rockingham.
Operations of the Bostonians. General Gage. New Parnassus at
Batheaston. Bouts-rim`es. Lines on a buttered muffin, by the
Duchess of Northumberland. Lord Palmerston's poem on Beauty.
Rulhi`ere's Russian Anecdotes--124

87. To the same, Jan. 22.-Debate in the House of lords on Lord
Chatham's motion for withdrawing the troops from Boston. Plan
for cutting off all traffic with America. Illness of the Duke
of Gloucester. Committee of oblivion. Death of Dowdeswell and
Tom Hervey--[N.]
 128

88. To the Rev. Mr. Cole, April 11.-Warm approbation of mason's
Life of gray. Verses by Lord Rochford, Anne Boleyn's brother--
129

89. To the same, April 25.-Mason's Life of Gray. "Peep in the
Gardens at Twickenham." Whitaker's History of Manchester.
Bryant's Ancient Mythology--132

90. To the same, June 5,-Genealogical inquiries. Blomefield's
Norfolk--134

91. To the Hon. H. S. Conway, July 9.-Projected trip to Paris.
American news. Story of Captain Mawhood, the teaman's son--136

92. To the same, August 9.-Preparations for a journey to Paris.
War between the Lord Chamberlain and Foote for refusing to
license his play--[N.] 137

93. To the Countess of Ailesbury, Aug. 17.-Journey to
Paris--138

94. To the same, Aug. 20.-Arrival at Paris. Madame du Deffand.
Madame Clotilde's wedding. M. Turgot's economy--139

95. To Mrs. Abington, Sept.-Regret at not knowing she was at
Paris. Compliment to her great merits as an actress--[N.) 140

96. To the Hon. H. S. Conway, Sept. 8.-On Lady Ailesbury being
overturned in her carriage. Madame du Deffand. Lady Barrymore.
Madame de Marchais Madame de Viri. French opinion of our
dispute with America--140

97. To the Hon. H. S. Conway, Oct. 6.-Illness of Madame du
Deffand. Economy and reformation of the bon-ton at Paris.
Horse-race on the Plain de Sablon. French politics, and
probable changes--142

98. To the Rev. Mr. Cole, Dec. 10.-English version of Gray's
Latin Odes--144

99. To the Countess of Ailesbury, Dec. 11.-Trial of the Duchess
of Kingston. Le Texier's French readings--145

100. To the Rev. Mr. Cole, Dec. 14.-Society of Antiquarians.
Opening of Edward the First's tomb. Prints from pictures at
Houghton--146

101. To Thomas Astle, Esq. Dec. 19.-On the attainder of George
Duke of Clarence, found in the Tower--147



                                   1776.

102. To the Rev. Mr. Cole, Jan. 26.-Subject of the Painting at
the Rose Tavern in Fleet-street. Attainder of George Duke of
Clarence--148

103. To Edward Gibbon, Esq. February.-Thanks for the first
volume of the "Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire"--[N.] 149

104. To the same, Feb. 14.-Panegyric on the first volume of the
"Decline and Fall"--[N.) 150

105. To the Rev. Mr. Cole, March 1.-On the old painting at the
Rose Tavern in Fleet-street. Antiquarian accuracy--151

106. To Dr. Gem, April 4.-French politics. Resistance of the
Parliament to the reformations of Messieurs de Malesherbes and
Turgot. Extraordinary speeches of the Avocat-G`en`eral. Our
dispute with America--151

107. To the Rev. Mr. Cole, April 16.-Death of the Rev. Mr.
Granger. Trial of Duchess of Kingston--153

108. To the same, June 1.-Mr. Granger's prints and papers
purchased by Lord Mountstuart--154

(109) To the same, June 11.-Vexations and disappointments of
the gout--155

110. To the Hon. H. S. Conway, June 30.-Gallery and beauty-room
at Strawberry. Lady Diana Beauclerk. His own talents and
pursuits. Picture of his mind--156

111. To the' Rev. Mr. Cole, July 23.-Thanks for the present of
a vase. Condolence on the ill state of his health--157

112. To the same, July 24.-Effects of General Conway's illness
on his own mind. Outliving one's friends. Mr. Penticross--158

113. To the same, Aug. 19.-Inquiries after Dr. Kenrick Prescot.
Death of Mr. Damer--159

114. To the same, Sept. 9.-Alterations at Strawberry. Lord
Carmarthen--160

115. To the Hon. H. S. Conway, Oct. 31.-Folly and madness of
the dispute with America. Opening of Parliament. Prospect of a
war with France. Reasons for his retirement--(N.] 161

116. To the Earl of Strafford, Nov-. 2.-retirement. Effects of
our climate. Unhappy dispute with America. Prospect of war with
France--162

117. To the Rev. Mr. Cole, Dec. 9.-Sir John Hawkins's "History
of Music"--163



                                   1777.

118. To the Rev. Mr. Cole, Feb. 20.-Purchase of the shutters of
the altar at St. Edmondsbury--163

119. To the same, February 27.-Requesting the loan of some of
his manuscripts. Dr. Dodd--165

120. To the same, May 22.-Continuance of his nephew's mental
illness. Love of Cambridge. Inclination to a sequestered life.
Charles the Fifth--166

121. To the Rev. Mr. Cole, June 19.-Macpherson's success with
Ossian the ruin of Chatterton. Rowley's pretended poems.
Chatterton's death--167

122. To the Hon. H. S. Conway, July 10.-M. d'Agincourt's
"Histoire de l'Art par les Monumens." The "Hayssians." Madame
de Blot. M. Schomberg. Madame Necker's character of Walpole--
168

123. To Robert Jephson, Esq. July 13.-Advice respecting the
representation of his tragedy. Success of Sheridan's School for
Scandal--[N.] 169

124. To the Rev. Mr. Cole, Aug. 31.-True wisdom. Illness of the
Duke of Gloucester. Monasteries. Recluse life. "In six weeks my
clock will strike sixty!"--171

125. To the same, Sept. 16.-Thanks for the loan of manuscripts.
Nonsense. Sincerity the foundation of long friendship. Sir
Joshua Reynolds's portrait of Soame Jenyns. Duke of
Gloucester's recovery--172

126. To the Hon. H. S. Conway, Sept. 16.-Description of a
machine called the Delineator. His "unlearnability"--173

127. To the Rev. Mr. Cole, Sept. 22.-Suggesting a life of
Thomas Baker, author of "Reflections on Learning." Burnet's
History. Christiana, Queen of Sweden. Calvin--173

128. To Robert Jephson, Esq. Oct. 1.-"The Law of Lombardy"--
[N.] 175

129. To the Hon. H. S. Conway, Oct. 5.-Apologies for not
meeting him at Goodwood. Disinclination to move from home.
"Threescore to-day State of his health and spirits. His idea of
old age--176

130. To Robert Jephson. Esq. Oct. 17.-Criticism on ,The Law of
Lombardy"--[N.] 177

131. To the Rev. Mr. Cole, Oct. 19.-Burnet's History. Duke
Lauderdale. Sir John Dalrymple and Macpherson's Histories.
Friendship. Efficacy of the bootikins--179



                                   1778.

132. To the Rev. Mr. Cole, March 31.-Politics. Life of Mr.
Baker--181

133. To the same, April 23.-Life of Baker. Pennant's "Welsh
Tour." Warton's "History of English Poetry." Lord Hardwicke's
State Papers." Aspect of the times--181

134. To the same, May 21.-Restoration of Popery. Lord Chatham's
interment. Intercourse with Chatterton. Detection of his
forgeries--182

135. To the Rev. William Mason.-Visit from Dr. Robertson. The
Doctor's contemplated "History of King William." Macpherson's
and Sir John Dalrymple's scandals--184

136. To the Rev. Mr. Cole, June 3.-Patriots and politics. Dr.
Franklin. Lord Chatham's interment. His merits and demerits.
Mr. Tyrwhit. Chatterton's forgeries--186

137. To the same, June 10.-His political creed, and opinion of
parties and political men. Life of Mr. Baker. Rowley and
Chatterton. Mat. Prior. Mr. Hollis. Mrs. Macauley--187

138. To the Countess of Ailesbury, June 25.--Mr. Conway's
governorship. Cuckoos and Nightingales. Robbery of Mrs. Clive--
189

139. To the Hon. H. S. Conway, July 8.-Suggesting the propriety
of pacification with America. Conduct of the Opposition. French
neutrality. Partition of Poland--189

140. To the Rev. Mr. Cole, July 12.-Projected Life of Mr.
Baker. Dr. Kippis's "Biographia Britannica." Addison's
character of Lord Somers. Whitgift and Abbot. Archbishop
Markham. Calvin and Wesley. Popery and Presbyterianism.
Churches and convents--191

141. To the Hon. H. S. Conway, July 18.-Sailing of the Brest
fleet. Political prospects--192

142. To the Rev. Mr. Cole, July 24.-Answer to the attack upon
him prefixed to Chatterton's works. Gray's tomb, and Mason's
epitaph--193

143. To the same, Aug. 15.-Rowley's pretended poems. Walpole's
defence. Bishop Walpole'-s tomb. Baker's Life--194

144. To the Hon. H. S. Conway, Aug, 21.-Recollections of
Sussex. Arundel Castle,. Tombs of the Fitzalans. Knowle and
Penshurst. Summer Hill. Leeds Castle. Goldsmiths' Company.
Aquatic adventure--195

145. To the Rev. Mr. Cole, Aug. 22.-Chatterton. Attacks on
Walpole in the Critical Review. Lord Hardwicke and the Carleton
Papers. Literary squabbles. The "Old English Baron." Lady
Craven's "Sleep Walker." A literary adventure--196

146. To the same, Sept. 1.-Attack on him in the Critical
Review. Cabal in the Antiquarian Society. Their Saxon and
Danish discoveries, and Roman remains. Value of Mr. Cole's
collections,. Visit from Dr. Kippis--198

147. To the same, Sept. 18.-"Biographia Britannica." Life of
the first Lord Barrington. Anecdote of the present peer--200

148. To the same, Oct. 14.-Defence of Sir Robert Walpole
against a charge of instigating George the Second to destroy
the will of his father. Lord Chesterfield--202

149. To the Hon. H. S. Conway, Oct. 23.-Account of his
pursuits--201

150. To the Rev. Mr. Cole, Oct. 26.-Completion of his Life of
Mr. Baker--204

151. To the same, Nov. 4.-Attack of the gout. Character of Mr.
Baker--205

152. To Lady Browne. Nov. 5.-Reflections on the state of' his
health. Lady Blandford's obstinacy--[N.] 206

153. To the same, Dec. 18.-Admiral Keppel's trial. Lord Bute.
Lord George Germaine. Lady Holderness, Lord and Lady
Carmarthen--[N.] 207

154. To the Earl of Buchan, Dec. 24.-Reply to inquiries after
certain portraits--[N.) 209

155. To Edward Gibbon, Esq.-On the attacks upon his History of
the Decline and Fall--[N.] 210



                                   1779.

156. To the Rev. Mr. Cole, Jan. 3.-Life of Mr. Baker. Damage
done by the great tempest on New-year's morning. Death of
Bishop Kidder. Tamworth Castle. Lord Ferrers's passion for
ancestry--211

157. To the Hon. H. S. Conway, Jan. 9.-Mrs. Miller's follies at
Batbeaston. Ennui. His recent illness. Prospects of old age.
Admiral Keppel's trial. Grecian Republics. Anecdote of Sir
Robert Walpole. Character of Sir William Meredith--212

158. To the Rev. Mr. Cole, Jan. 15.-Life of Mr. Baker. Pamphlet
respecting Chatterton--213

159. To the same, Jan. 28.-Reasons for not printing his
pamphlet concerning Chatterton. His Hieroglyphic Tales--214

160. To the same, Feb. 4.-Answer to Mr. Cole's objections to
his Life of Baker--215

161. To the same, Feb. 18.-His opinion of Hasted's history of
Kent. Lord Ferrers and Tamworth Castle--215

162. To Sir David Dalrymple, March 12.-Thanks for his "Annals."
Portrait of Duns Scotus--[N.] 216

163. To the Rev. Mr. Cole, March 28.-Swinburne's Travels in
Spain. The Alhambra. Character of Moses. Cumberland's Masque of
"Calypso." Design of a chimney-piece, by Holbein--216

164. To Edward Gibbon, Esq.-Congratulations on his
,Vindication" of his "History"--[N.] 218

165. To the Rev. Mr. Cole, April 12.-St. Peter's portrait.
Richard the Third. Truth and Falsehood. Murder of Miss Ray by
Mr. Hackman. Shades of madness. Solace in books and past ages--
218

166. To the same, April 20.-Plates after designs by Rubens--219

167. To the same, April 23.-Sale of the pictures at Houghton--
220

168. To Mrs. Abington.-Regrets at not being able to accept an
invitation--(N.) 220

169. To the Rev. Mr. Cole, May 21.-History of the Abbey of Bec.
Keate's "Sketches from Nature." Church of Reculver. Person of
Richard the Third--221

170. To the Hon. H. S. Conway, May 22.-Attack on Jersey. War in
America. Masquerades. Festino at Almack's. Lord Bristol's
wonderful calf--221

171. To the Rev. Mr. Cole, June 2.-State of his health.
Strictures on a volume of the ArchEeologia. Pictures at
Houghton--222

172. To the Rev. Dr. Lort, June 4.-Painted shutters from the
altar of St. Edmund's Bury--224

173. To the Hon. H. S. Conway, June 5.-Disturbances in Ireland.
Spanish declaration of war. Treatment of America. Tickell's
"Cassette Verte." Dr. Franklin. "Opposition Mornings." Story of
Mrs. Ellis and her great O--225

174. To the same, June 16.-Sailing of the Brest fleet.
Probability of a war with Spain. Dispute with America. State of
Ireland. F`ete at the Pantheon--227

175. To the Hon. George Hardinge, July 4.-Thanks for drawings
of Grignan. Letters of Madame de S`evign`e, and of her
daughter. Character of Coulanges--229

176. To the Countess of Ailesbury, July 10.-Conjectures on the
political state of the country. Washington and Clinton.
Difficulty of conquering America--230

177. To the Rev. Mr. Cole, July 12.-Value of the pictures at
Houghton--231

178. To the same, Aug. 12.-Thanks for offer of painted glass.
"History of Alien Priories"--232

179. To the Countess of Ailesbury, Aug. 13.-Situation of
General Conway in Jersey. Constancy of Fortune. Folly of
pursuing the war with America--233

180. To the Hon. H. S. Conway, Sept. 12.-Alarms for the
General's situation at Jersey. Battle between Byron and
D'Estaing. Mrs. Damer. Eruption of Vesuvius--234

181. To the Rev. Mr. Cole, Nov. 16.-Mr. Tyson's Journal. Old
Gate at Whitehall. Nichols's "Alien Priories." Rudder's
"History of Gloucestershire." Removal of old friends--235

182. To the same, Dec. 27.-Earl-bishops. Lord Bristol. Rudder's
"History of Gloucestershire"--236



                                   1780.

183. To the Rev. Mr. Cole, Jan. 5.-Congratulations on his
providential escape. Count-bishops. Old painting found in
Westminster-abbey. Tomb of Ann of Cleve. Reburial of the crown,
robes, and sceptre of Edward the First. Sale of the Houghton
pictures--237

184. To Robert Jephson, Esq., Jan. 25.-His opinion of Mr.
Jephson's "Count of Narbonne;" and advice on casting the parts-
-[N.] 238

185. To the same, Jan. 27.-Tragedy of the "Count of Narbonne."
Warburton's panegyric on the "Castle of Otranto." Miss Aikin's
"Fragment." "Old English Baron"--[N.] 240

186. To the Rev. Mr. Cole, Feb. 5.-New volume of the
"Biographia Britannica." Characters of Dr. Birch, Dr.
Blackwell, and Dr. John Brown. Dr. Kippis's threat. Cardinal
Beaton. Dr. Bentley. Mr. Hollis. Barry the painter--242

187. To the same, Feb. 27.-Rodney's victory. Home prospects.
Party divisions. History of Leicester. Cit`e des dames.
Christiana of Pisa--242

188. To the same, March 6.-Thanks for his portrait in glass.
History of Leicester. Dean Mills and Mr. Masters. Pine-apples.
Charles the Second's gardener--245

189. To the same, March 13.-Atkyns's Gloucestershire.
Hutchinson's Northumberland. Romantic Correspondence of Hackman
and Miss Ray. Sir Herbert Croft's,,Love and Madness."
Chatterton. "The Young Villain." Lord Chatham. Lady Craven's
"Miniature Picture"--246

190. To the same, March 30.-Projected reform of the House of
Commons. Annual parliaments--248

191. To the same, May 11.-Death of Mr. Tyson, and of his old
friend George Montagu. His character--248

192. To the same, May 19.-Character of Joseph Spence--249

193. To the same, May 30.-Altar-doors from St. Edmundsbury.
Annibal Caracci and Shakspeare--250

194. To Mrs. Abington, June 11.-Invitation to Strawberry Hill--
[N.] 251

195. To the Earl of Strafford, June 12.-Lord George Gordon and
the Riots of London. Persecutions under the cloak of religion.
Highway robberies. Ambition the most detestable of passions--
251

196. To the Rev. Mr. Cole, June 15.-London riots. Black
Wednesday. Lord George Gordon in the Tower. Electioneering
rioting in Cambridgeshire. Mr. Banks and the Otaheitans--253

197. To the same, July 4.-Wishes his having written the Life of
Baker to be kept a secret--254

198. To the Earl of Strafford, Sept. 9.-Folly of election
contests. Dissatisfaction in the fleet--255

199. To the Rev. Mr. Cole, Sept. 27.-Electioneering agitations.
Death of Madame du Deffand--256

200. To the same, Oct. 3.-"Life of Mr. Baker." Dr. James Brown-
-256

201. To the same, Nov. 11.-Mr. Gough's "Topography."
Introduction of ananas. Rose, the gardener of Charles the
Second. Folly of antiquaries--257

202. To the same, Nov. 24.-Mr. Gough's "Topography." Character
of Mr. Pennant. Dean Milles. Judge Barrington. Dulness and
folly of Grose's Dissertations. Rejoices in having done with
the professions of author and printer, and determines to be
comfortably lazy--259

203. To the same, Nov. 30.-In answer to a request for a copy of
his Anecdotes for the University Library at Cambridge.
Character of Mr. Gough--260

204. To Sir David Dalrymple, Dec. 11.-Thanks for communications
for his Anecdotes of Painters. Hogarth. Colonel Charteris.
Archbishop Blackbourne and Mrs. Conwys. Poetry of Richardson
and Hogarth. Lord Chesterfield's story of Jervas. Origin of Oil
Painting--261

205. To the Rev. Mr. Cole, Dec. 19.-Friendship between Gray and
Mason. Views of Strawberry Hill--263



                                   1781.

206. To Sir David Dalrymple, Jan. 1.-Thanks for his favourable
opinion of his father. His reasons for not writing his Life.
Dr. Kippis and his "Biographia Britannica." Lord Barrington and
the Hamburgh lottery. Character of King William. Folly of
reburying the crown and robes of' Edward the First. "Dr.
Johnson's notions of sacrilege--[N.) 264

207. To the Hon. H. S. Conway, Jan. 3.-On the General's speech
for quieting the troubles in America. Melancholy state of the
country--266

208. To the Rev. Mr. Cole, Feb. 7.-Death of Lady Orford at
Pisa--268

209. To the same, Feb. 9.-Wolsey's negotiations. Value of Mr.
Cole's manuscripts. Character of Mr. Pennant--269

210. To the Earl of Buchan, Feb. 10.-Thanks for being elected
member of the Scotch Society of Antiquaries--[N.] 269

211. To Sir David Dalrymple, Feb. 10.-Sir William Windham and
Sir Robert Walpole, Archibald Duke of Argyll. Scotch Society of
Antiquaries. Portrait of Lady Mary Douglas--[N.] 270

212. To the Rev. Mr. Cole, March 2.-Reasons for becoming a
member of the Scotch Antiquarian Society--272

213. To the same, March 5.-Inquiries after Lord Hardwicke's
"Walpoliana"--273

214. To the same, March 29.-Contradicting a report of Mr.
Pennant's indisposition of mind--273

215. To the same, April 3.-Lord Hardwicke's "Walpolianae"--274

216. To the same, May 4.-Character of Dr. Farmer. On his own
rank as an author. Pennant's "Welsh Tour." Madame du Deffand's
dog Tonton--274


217. To the Hon. H. S. Conway, May 6.-Relief of Gibraltar. Lord
Cholmondeley at Brookes's. Winnings of Charles Fox and
Fitzpatrick. India affairs. Arrival of Tonton--275

218. To the same, May 28.-Scotch thistles. French politics.
Resignation of Necker. Proposals for a pacification with
America. Charles Fox and the Marriage-bill. Folly of retiring
from the world--277

219. To the same, June 3. 'Projected French attack on Jersey.
Siege of Gibraltar. "The Young William Pitt's" first display.
Mr. Bankes. Theatricals. Consequences of lord Cornwallis's
victories--279

220. To the Earl of Strafford, June 13.-Visit from Mr. Storer--
281

221. To the Rev. Mr. Cole, June 16.-Sir Richard Worsley's
History of the Isle of wight. Nichols's Life of Hogarth. "AEdes
Strawberrianae." Miseries of having a house worth being seen--
282

222. To the Earl of Charlemont, July 1.-On Mr. Preston's poems-
-[N.] 284

223. To the Rev. Mr. Cole, July 7.-Orthodoxy and heterodoxy--
284

224. To the same, July 26--286

225. To the Earl of Strafford, Aug. 31.-Difficulty of sending
an entertaining letter. Mason's English Garden. Marriage of
Lord Althorp--286

226. To the Hon. H. S. Conway, Sept. 16.-Their long and
uninterrupted friend- ship. Madame du Deffand's papers. Henley
bridge--287

227. To John Nichols, Esq. Oct. 31.-Criticisms on his Life of
Hogarth--288

228. To Robert Jephson, Esq. Nov. 7.-On his tragedy of "The
Count of Narbonne"--[N.] 290

229. To the same, Nov. 10.--[N.] 292

230. To the same, Nov. 13.--[N.] 293

231. To the same, Nov. 18.--[N.] 293

232. To the Hon. H. S. Conway,- Nov. 18.-On Mr. Jephson's
tragedy of "The Count of Narbonne"--294

233. To Robert Jephson, Esq. Nov. 18.-Favourable reception of
"The Count of Narbonne"--[N.] 295

234. To the Earl of Strafford, Nov. 27.-Surrender of the
British forces at York Town. Gloomy forebodings of the
consequences. General spirit of dissipation--296

235. To the Earl of Buchan, Dec. 1.-British disgraces in
America. Ancient portraits--[N.) 297

236. To Robert Jephson, Esq. Dec. 3.-On his expression of
dissatisfaction at some alterations in the scenes of his play--
[N.] 299

237. To the Rev. Mr. Cole, Dec. 30.-The gout described. Etching
of Browne Willis. Character of Mr. Gough. Mr. George Steevens.
Rowley and Chatterton controversy--299



                                   1782.

238. To the Rev. Mr. Cole, Jan. 27.-Interview with, and
characters of Mr. Gough and Mr. Steevens--302

239. To the same,. Feb. 14.-Thanks for the loan of some
manuscripts. Society of Antiquaries. Description of his
regimen. His great nostrum--303

240. To the same, Feb. 15.-Specimen of Mr. Gough's "Sepulchral
Monuments." Antiquarian solemnities ridiculed. Count-bishop
Hervey. Martin Sherlock the English traveller--304

241. To the Rev. William Mason.-New French translation of the
Elder Pliny. Common jargon of Poetry--307

242. To the Rev. Mr. Cole, Feb. 22.-Rowley and Chatterton
controversy--308

243. To the Hon. George Hardinge, March 8.-On the success of
General Conway's motion for putting an end to the American war-
-309

244. To the Rev. Mr. Cole, March 9.-Character of Dr. Farmer.
Declaration of war by the Emperor against the Crescent.
Ambition and interest under the mask of religion--310

245. To the same, April 11.-His preference of English to Latin
inscriptions. Mason's Archaeological Epistle to Dean Milles.
Melancholy death of Mr. Chamberlayne. Dr. Glynn--310

246. To the same, May 24.-On his own illness. The Chatterton
controversy--312

247. To the same, June 1.-Bishop Newton's Life. Pratt's "Fair
Circassian." Cumberland's "Anecdotes of Painters in Spain"--313

248. To John Nichols, Esq., June 19.-Dr. Henry Bland the
translator of Cato's speech into Latin--315

249. To the Rev. Mr. Cole, June 21.-Old age and solitude.
Marivaux and Cr`ebillon. Multiplicity of writers. Errors in
Nichols's "Select Poems"--315

250. To the same, July 23.-Merits of Nichols's "Life of
Bowyer." Dr. Mead. Carteret Webb. Great men. Dr. Birch's
Catalogue of Manuscripts in the British Museum--316

251. To the Earl of Strafford, Aug. 16.-Inclemency of the
season. Robberies. Comte de Grasse. Mrs. Clive's declining
health. Philosophy of deceiving one's self--317

252. To the Hon. H. S. Conway, Aug. 20.--[N.] 318

253. To the Earl of Buchan, Sept. 15.-Dr. Birch's Catalogue.
Mr. Tyrwhitt's book on the Rowleian controversy--[N.] 319

254. To the Hon. H. S. Conway, Sept. 17.-On the General's being
appointed Commander-in-chief. His new coke ovens--319

255. To the Earl of Strafford, Oct. 3.-General Elliot's success
at Gibraltar. Necessity of peace. Increase of highway
robberies. Mr. Mason--320

256. To the Rev. Mr. Cole, Nov. 5.--On Mr. Cole's illness. His
death--321



                                   1783.

257. To George Colman, Esq. May 10.-Thanks for his translation
of Horace's Art of Poetry--322

258. To the Earl of Buchan, May 12.-Congratulations on the
success of the Scotch Antiquarian Society. Roman remains.
Biography of illustrious men. Account of John Law. Papers in
the Scotch college at Paris, and paintings in the Castle of
Aubigny--N.) 324

259. To the Hon. George Hardinge, May 17.-Sir Thomas Rumbold's
Bill of pains and penalties--325

260. To the Earl of Strafford, June 24.-Visits of the French to
England. Their Anglomanie. George Ellis. Beau Dillon.
"Antoinette." Mr. Mason. Fashionable life--326

261. To the same, Aug. 1.-Complains of his own inactivity and
indifference. Speculations on the peace. Lord Northesk. Shock
of an earthquake--328

262. To the Hon. H. S. Conway, Aug. 15.-Addresses of the Irish
Volunteers. Political speculations. Mr. Fox--330

263. To the same, Aug. 27.--[N.) 331

264. To the Earl of Strafford, Sept. 12.-Visit to Astley's
theatre. Sir William Hamilton. Mr. Mason's new discoveries in
painting. Pursuit of health--332

265. To the same, Oct. 11.-Disturbed state of Ireland.
Parliamentary reform. Yorkshire Associations Leaders of
friction. Lord Carlisle's tragedy. Lord and lady Fitzwilliam--
334

266. To Lady Browne, Oct. 19.-State of his health--[N.)336

267. To Governor Pownall, Oct. 27.-Observations on a defence of
Sir Robert Walpole by the Governor. Character of Home. Sylla.
Liberality of George the First and Second to his father--336

268. To the same, Nov. 7.-The same subject--339

269. To the Earl of Strafford, Nov. 10.-Situation of Ireland.
Flowers of Billingsgate. Flood and Grattan. Meeting of the
delegates. Difference between correcting abuses and removing
landmarks. Character of Mr. Fox--339

270. To the same, Dec. 11.-Excellence of letter-writing.
India-bill. Air-balloons. Mrs. Siddons. Lord Thurlow. Flood and
Courtenay--341



                                   1784
.

271. To the Hon. H. S. Conway, May 5.-Congratulations on the
General's retirement from place and Parliament. Mr. Fox's
election--342

272. To Miss Hannah More, May 6.-Thanks for her poem, the "Bas
Bleu"--[N.] 344

273. To the Hon. H. S. Conway, May 21.-Epitaph-writing. Lord
Melcombe's Diary. Cox's Travels--345

274. To the Countess of Ailesbury, June 8.-Voltaire's Memoirs.
Lord Melcombe's Diary. Severity of the weather--346

275. To the Hon. H. S. Conway', June 25.-Benefits of retirement
from public life. Local grievances. Highway robberies. The good
things of life--347

276. To the same, June 30.-Inclemency of the season. Death of
Lady Harrington. Lunardi's balloon--348

277. To the Earl of Strafford, Aug. 6.-Earthquakes. The Deluge.
Uncertainty of human reasoning--349

278. To Mr. Dodsley, Aug. 8.-Declining Mr. Pinkerton's offer of
a dedication to him of his Essay on Medals--[N.] 350

279. To the Hon. H. S. Conway, Aug. 14.-Frequency of robberies
in his neighbourhood. Disturbed state of Ireland--350

280. To John Pinkerton, Esq. Aug. 24.-Thanks for the perusal of
his poems, and invitation to Strawberry Hill--[N.] 351

281. To the Earl of Strafford, Sept. 7.-Congratulations on the
return of fine weather. Air-balloons and highwaymen. Sir
William Hamilton. Mrs. Walsingham. Mrs. Damer's "sleeping
dogs"--351

282. To John Pinkerton, Esq. Sept. 27.-Criticisms on his
comedy--N.] 353

283. To the same, Oct. 6.-Further criticisms on his comedy.
Remarks on English poetry, on poetry in general, and on the
drama--N.] 354

284. To the Hon. H. S. Conway, Oct. 15.-Speculations on the
perfection of air-balloons--356

285. To John Pinkerton, Esq. Oct. 28.-His own publications and
literary career. Remarks on Mr. Pinkerton's projected History
of the Reign of George the Second--[N.] 358

286. To Miss Hannah More, Nov. 13.-On the poems and conduct of
Ann Yearsley, the Bristol tnilkwoman. Danger of encouraging her
poetical propensity. Fate of Stephen Duck--360

287. To the Hon. H. S. Conway, Nov. 28.-Continental politics.
Poetical epistle to Lady Lyttelton--362



                                   1785.

288. To Miss Hannah More, April 5.-In answer to an anonymous
letter from Miss More, ridiculing the prevailing adoption of
French idioms into the English language--363

289. To John Pinkerton, Esq. June 22.-Strictures on "Heron's
Letters of Literature." Mr. Pinkerton's proposed amendment of
the English language. Lady Mary Wortley Montague. Mr. Hume and
Mr. Gray--[N.] 365

290. To the same, June 26,-Further criticisms on Heron's
"Letters." Definition and exemplification of grace. Remarks on
Waller, Milton, Cowley, Boileau, Pope, and Madame de S`evign`e-
-[N.] 367

291. To the same, July 27.-Declining to print Greek authors at
the Strawberry Hill press--[N.] 371

292. To the same, Aug. 18.-Declines to print an edition of the
Life of St. Ninian--[N.] 372

293. To the same, Sept. 17.-Advising him not to reply to the
critiques of anonymous adversaries--[N.] 372

294. To George Colman, Esq. Sept. 19.-On sending him a copy of
the Duc de Nivernois' translation of his "Essay on Modern
Gardening"--[N.] 374

295. To the Earl of Buchan, Sept. 23.-Literary stores in the
Vatican, and in the Scottish College at Paris. Mr. Herschell's
discoveries--[N.] 374

296. To John Pinkerton, Esq. Sept. 30.-Advice on his intended
publication of Lives of the Scottish Saints. His opinion of
Bishop Headley. Reflections on his own life--[N.] 376

297. To the Hon. H. S. Conway, Oct. 6.-Jarvis's window at New
College. Blenheim. Beau Desert. Stowe. "The Charming Man."
Boswell's "Tour to the Hebrides"--377

298. To the Earl of Charlemont, Nov. 23.-Order of St. Patrick--
(N.] 379

299. To Lady Browne, Dec. 14.-Last illness and death of Kitty
Clive. Lord John Russell's marriage--[N.] 379



                                   1786.

300. To Miss Hannah More, Feb. 9.-On her poem of "Floria,"
dedicated to him--380

301. To the Hon. H. S. Conway, June 18.-Account of his visit to
the Princess Amelia at Gunnersbury. Stanzas addressed to the
Princess. Her answer. Purchase of the Jupiter Serapis and Julio
Clovio--381

302. To Richard Gough, Esq. June 21.-Thanks for the present of
his "Sepulchral Monuments." The Duc de Nivernois' translation
of his "Essay on Gardening"--383

303. To the Earl of Strafford, Aug. 29.-The new bridge at
Henley. Mrs. Damer's colossal masks. Visit from Count Oginski.
Out-pensioners of Bedlam. Lord George Gordon. Archbishop
Chicheley and Henry the Fifth--384

304. To the Hon. H. S. Conway, Oct. 29.-Two Charades by Colonel
Fitzpatrick. Precocity of Robert Stewart, afterwards Marquis of
Londonderry--386

305. To the Right Hon. Lady Craven, Nov. 27.-Apologies for not
having written, and thanks for a drawing of the Castle of
Otranto--387



                                   1787.

306. To Miss Hannah More, Jan. 1.-With a present of "Christine
de Pise." Her "Cit`e des Dames." Mrs. Yearsley--388

307. To the Right Hon. Lady Craven, Jan. 2.-On her ladyship's
travels. Sir John Mandeville. Lady Mary Wortley. Peter the
Hermit--389

308. To Miss Hannah More, Feb. 23.-Christina's 11 Life of
Charles the Fifth"--390

309. To the Rev. Henry Zouch, March 13.-Proposing to return the
letters he had received from him--[N.) 391

310. To Miss Hannah More, June 15.-The Irish character. Miss
Burney--(N.] 391

311. To the Hon, H. S. Conway, June 17.-Expected visit from the
Princess Lubomirski. "The Way to keep Him"--393

312. To the Earl of Strafford, July 28.-St. Swithin. The Duke
of Queensberry's dinner to the Princess de Lamballe. Mrs.
French's marble pavement. Lord Dudley's obelisk. Miss Boyle's
carvings--394

313. To Miss Hannah More, Oct. 14.-Ingratitude of Anne Yearsley
to her. Mrs. Vesey. Dr. Johnson's Letters. Bruce's Travels.
Gibbon's History. Figaro--395

314. To the Hon. H. S. Conway, Nov. 11.-On the small Druidical
temple presented by the States of Jersey to the General.
Stonehenge--397



                                   1788.

315. To Thomas Barrett, Esq. June 5.-Gibbon's "Decline and
Fall." Sheridan's speech against Mr. Hastings--398

316. To the Earl of Strafford, June 17.-General Conway's comedy
of "False Appearances." Sheridan's speech against Mr. Hastings-
-399

317. To Miss Hannah More, July 4. Newspaper reading. General
Conway's play--401

318. To the same, July 12.-On his own writings. Authorship
after seventy. Voltaire at eighty-four. Fate of his last
tragedy. Mrs. Piozzi. Pipings of Miss Seward and Mr. Hayley--
402

319. To the Earl of Strafford, Aug. 2.-On a reported discovery
of new letters of Madame de S`evign`e. Letters of the Duchess
of Orleans. Druidical temple from Jersey--404

320. To John Pinkerton, Esq. Aug. 14.-Criticism on his Ode for
the Scottish Revolution Club--[N.) 405

321. To Miss Hannah More, Aug. 17.-Rumoured discovery of new
letters of Madame de S`evign`e. Library of Greek and Latin
authors at Naples--[N.] 406

322. To the Earl of Strafford, Sept. 12.-Account of the
Druidical temple at Park- place. The Duchess of Kingston's
will--407

323. To Miss Hannah More, Sept. 22.-Ingratitude of Mrs.
Yearsley. Education of the Great. Walpolia'na. Virtuous
intentions. Enthusiasts and quack- doctors--408

324. To the Right Hon. Lady Craven, Dec. 11.-Wisdom of retiring
from the world in time. Voltaire. Lord Chatham. Mr. Anstey.
King of Prussia's Memoirs. Poverty of the French language, as
far as regards verse and pieces of eloquence--[N.] 411



                                   1789.

(325. To the Miss Berrys. Feb. 2.-Acceptance of an invitation.
Expressions of delight on being in their society--[N.] 413

326. To the same, March 20.-Madame de la Motte's M`emoire
Justificatif. General illumination for the King's recovery.
Hairs of Edward the Fourth's head--[N.] 413

327. To Miss Hannah More, April 22.-Darwin's Botanic Garden.
Loves of the Plants. Success of General Conway's comedy--[N.]
414

328. To the Miss Berrys, April 28.-Darwin's Botanic Garden. His
poetry characterized--[N.]415

329. To the same, June 23.-Destruction of the Opera-house by
fire. The nation tired of Operas. "The room after." Mr. Batt
and the Abb`e Nicholls--[N.] 416

330. To Miss Hannah More, June 23.-On her poem of Bishop
Bonner's Ghost. Offers to print it at Strawberry Hill. Bruce's
Travels--[N.] 418

331. To Miss Berry, June 30.-Arabian Nights. Bishop Atterbury.
Sinbad the Sailor versus AEneas. Mrs. Piozzi's Travels. King's
College Chapel. Effects of criticism and comparison. Pageantry
of popery--[N.] 419

332. To Miss Hannah More, July 2.-Thanks for permission to
print "Bishop Bonner's Ghost." Account of his fall. Gratitude
to Providence for his lot--421

333. To Miss Berry, July 9.-Recovery from his fall. Present
state of France. Tumults at Versailles on the reported
resignation of Necker. Marshal Broglio appointed
commander-in-chief Camp round Paris. Mutinous disposition of
the army. Voltaire's correspondence. His letters to La
Chalotais--422

334. To Miss Hannah More, July 10.-"Bishop Bonner's Ghost"--425

335. To the Hon. H. S. Conway, July 15.-Dismissal of Necker.
Paris in an uproar. Storming and destruction of the Bastille.
Speculation on the probable results. The Duke of Orleans and
Mirabeau--425

336. To Miss Hannah More, July 20.-Result of her "double
treachery." A visit from Bishop Porteiis. The visit returned--
427

337. To Miss Berry, July 29.-Anarchy in Paris. Account of La
Chalotais. Treachery of Calonne. Character of the Duc de
Vrilli`ere. St. Swithin's day. Predicts the fall of Necker--
(N.] 428

338. To John Pinkerton, Esq. July 31.-Remarks on his Inquiry
into the early History of Scotland"--(N.] 431

339. To Miss Hannah More, Aug. 8.-On sending her copies of
"Bonner's Ghost."
Complains of letters--[N.] 432

340. To John Pinkerton, Esq., Aug. 14.-Confesses his want of
taste for the ancient
histories of nations. Remarks on the different modes of
treating antiquities--[N.] 433

341. To the same, Aug. 19.-Compliments him on his strong and
manly understanding. Account of his own studies--[N.] 434

342. To Richard Gough, Esq. Aug. 24.-Strictures on the injuries
done to Salisbury cathedral by the recent alterations--435

343. To the Miss Berrys, Aug. 27.-Illness of the Countess of
Dysart. Richmond and Hampton Court gossip--(N.) 436

344. To the same. Sept. 4.-On their declining a visit to
Wentworth House. The Duke of Clarence at Richmond. Miss
Farren's Beatrice. Account of Lady Luxborough. Wentworth Castle
described. Violences in France. Destruction of chateaus in
Burgundy. Assemblage of deserters round Paris. Patience of Lady
Dysart under her suffering. Mademoiselle d'Eon in petticoats--
[N.] 437

345. To the Hon. H. S. Conway, Sept. 5.-Thanks to him for a
poem. Death of Lady Dysart. Terrible situation of Paris.
Predicts that the kingdom will become a theatre of civil wars--
440

346. To Miss Hannah More, Sept. 7.-Congratulation on the
demolition of the functions of the Bastille. The `Etats a mob
of kings. Time the composer of a good constitution. Negro
slavery. Suggests the possibility of relieving slaves by
machine work. Utility of starting new game to invention.
Barrett's History of Bristol. The Biographia Britannica and
Chatterton--441

347. To the same, Nov. 4.-Death of Lady Dysart and Lord
Waldegrave. Mrs. Yearsley's Earl Goodwin. Death of Mr. Barrett.
Succedaneum for negro labour. Suggests the propriety of Mr.
Wilberforce's starting the abolition of slavery to the `Etats.
Character of the `Etats--444



                                   1790.

348. To Miss Hannah More, Feb. 20.-With his contribution to a
charitable subscription--446

349. To the Hon. H. S. Conway, June 25.-Charles Fox and the
Westminster gridiron. Puerile pedantry of the French `Etats.
Destruction of the statues of Louis Quatorze. Bruce's Travels--
[N.) 447

350. To the Earl of Strafford, June 26.-Reflections on the
state of France. Consciences of tyrants. Luther and Calvin.
Fate of projectors--448

351. To the Hon. H. S. Conway, July 1.-Bruce's Travels. French
barbarity and folly. Grand Federation in the Champ de Mars.
Rationality of the Americans. Franklin and Washington. A great
man wanted in France. Return of Necker. His insignificance--
[N.] 448

352. To Miss Berry, July 3,-His alarm at their design of
visiting Italy. Atrocities of the French `Etats. Good-humoured
speech of Marie Antoinette. Winchester Cathedral. Netley Abbey.
Visit from the Duchess of Marlborough--[N.] 450

353. To the Hon. H. S. Conway, Aug. 9.-Peace of Spain. Miss
Gunning's reported match with Lord Blandford--452

354. To the Earl of Strafford, Aug. 12.-Lord Barrymore's
exhibitions at the Richmond theatre. Reflections on the
progress of the French Revolution--452

355. To Sir David Dalrymple, Sept. 21.-Pictures at Burleigh.
Shakspeare Gallery. Macklin's Gallery--454

356. To the Miss Berrys, Oct. 10.-On their departure for Italy.
Regrets at the loss of their society--[N.] 455

357. To the same, Oct. 31.-Burke's "Reflections." Calonne's
"Etat de la France"--[N.] 457

358. To the same, Nov. 8.-Pacification with Spain and Brabant.
Earl Stanhope and the Revolution Club. Mr. Burke's "Reflections
on the French Revolution" characterized. Visit from the Prince
of Furstemberg--[N.] 458

359. To Miss Berry, Nov. 11.-Mr,,;. Damer's departure for
Lisbon. Effects of Burke's pamphlet on Dr. Price. Mr. Merry's
"Laurel of Liberty." The Della Crusca school of poetry
described--[N.] 460

360. To the Miss Berrys, Nov. 18.-Character of the Bishop of
Arras. Dr. Price's talons drawn by Mr. Burke. Revolution Club
exploded--[N.) 461

361. To the same, Nov. 27.-Anxiety for a letter from Florence--
[N.] 463

362. To Miss Agnes Berry, Nov. 29.-Thanks for her letter.
Correggio. Guercino, a German edition of Guido. Lord Stanhope's
speech against Calonne's book. Dr. Price's answer to Burke.
Reasons for creating Mr. Grenville a peer. Richmond arrivals.
Duke of Clarence. Mrs. Fitzherbert. Duke of Queensbury. Madame
Griffoni. Works of Massaccio. Fra Bartolomeo. Benvenuto
Cellini's Perseus--464

363. To the Miss Berrys, Dec. 20.-Character of Mr. Burke's
"Reflections." Mrs. Macaulay's reply to it--[N.] 465



                                   1791.

364. To Miss Berry, Jan. 22.-Recovery from a severe illness.
Death of Mrs. French. Illness of George Selwyn--[N.] 466

365. To the Miss Berrys, Jan. 29.-Effects of his late illness.
Picture of himself. Death and character of George Selwyn.
Mademoiselle Pagniani. Story of Miss Vernon and Martindale. The
Gunninghiad. Visit from Mr. Batt. Overthrow of the French
monarchy. The Duchess of Gordon and Mr. Dundas--[N.] 468

366. To Miss Berry, Feb. 4.-Regrets at their absence, and
anxiety for their return. Destructive tempest. The rival
Opera-houses. Taylor's pamphlet against the Lord Chamberlain--
(N.) 470

367. To the same, Feb. 12. -Hi@ anxiety for their return, but
resolution not to derange their plans of economy. Comte de
Coigny. Instability of the present government of France. Horne
Tooke's libel in the House of Commons. Christening of Miss
Boycot--(N.] 472

368. To Miss Agnes Berry, Feb. 13.-Narrative of the history of
a marriage supposed to have been likely to take place between
Miss Gunning and the Marquis of Blandford--[N.] 474

369. To the Earl of Charlemont, Feb. 17.-On a surreptitious
edition of The Mysterious Mother, published at Dublin--[N.] 476

370. To Miss Agnes Berry, Feb. 18.-Codicil to Gunning's story.
Opening of the Pantheon. Dieu et mon Droit versus Ich Dien--
(N.] 477

371. To the Miss Berrys, Feb. 26.-More of the Gunnings: Arrival
of Madame du Barry to recover her jewels. The King of France's
aunt stopped from leaving France. Majesty of the mob. The
Monster. Gibbon's account Of Necker in retirement; and opinions
of Burke's Reflections. Madame du Barry and the Lord Mayor.
Recovery of her jewels. Jerningham's poetry--(N.) 479

372. To the same, March 5.-London unknown to Londoners. "Who is
Sir Robert Walpole?" Destruction of the Albion Mills. Automaton
snuff-box [N.] 481

373. To Miss Berry, March 19.-Mrs. Gunning's letter to the Duke
of Argyle--[N.] 484

374. To the Miss Berrys, March 28.-King's message on the
situation of Europe. Blusterings of the Autocratrix. Bounces
and huffs of Prussia. Royal reconciliation. Taylor and the Lord
Chamberlain. Prosecution of the Gunnings. Gunnilda's letter to
Lord Blandford--(N.) 486

375. To Miss Berry, April 3.-On her fall down a bank at Pisa.
Kemble and Mrs. Siddons. Mrs. Damer's reception at Elvas. Death
of Dr. Price. Outrageous violence of the National Assembly.
Paine's answer to Burke--[N.] 488

376. To the same, April 15.-Lady Diana Beauclerc's designs for
Dryden's Fables. War with Russia. Madame du Barry dining with
the Prince of Wales. Increased population of London. Story of
the young woman at St. Helena. A party at Mrs. Buller's
described--[N.) 490

377. To Miss Berry, April 23.-Resignation of the Duke of Leeds.
Progress of the repairs at Clivedon. The abolition of the
slave-trade rejected. Captain Bowen's pamphlet against
Gunnilda. Hannah More and the Gretna Green runaway. Lord
Cholmondeley's marriage. Indian victory--(N.] 492

378. To the same, May 12,-Congratulations on her recovery.
Earnest wish to put them in possession of Clivedon during his
life. Unhappy quarrel between Mr. Burke and Mr. Fox. Mrs.
Damer's arrival from Spain--[N.] 495

379. To the same, May 19.-Thanks for her punctuality in
writing. Advantages of resources in one's self. Internal armour
more necessary to females than weapons to men. Duchesse de
Brissac. Duc de Nivernois. Hastings's impeachment. The Countess
of Albany in London. Her presentation at court. Her visit to
the Pantheon--[N.] 497

380. To the same, May 26.-The Duchess of Gordon's journal of a
day. Arrival of Sir William Hamilton with the Nymph of the
Attitudes. Strictures on Boswell's Life of Dr. Johnson.
Johnson's abuse of Gray. Burke's "Letter to a member of the
National Assembly." His character of Rousseau. Lodge's
"Illustrations of British History" panegyricised. Lord Mount-
Edgcumbe's bon-mot on M. d'Eon--[N.] 500

381. To the Miss Berrys, June 2--"This is the note that nobody
wrote." Interview with, and description of, Madame d'Albany--
[N.] 504

382. To the same, June 8.-Frequency of highway robberies. The
birthday. Madame d'Albany. Mrs. Fitzherbert. Mrs. Cosway. Lally
de Tollendal's tragedy. French politics. Rage for building in
London. Visit to Dulwich College--[N.] 505

383. To the same, June 14. Mrs. Hobart's rural breakfast. Dr
Beattie. Malone's Shakspeare--[N.] 508

384. To Miss Berry-, June 23.-Madame du Barry at Mrs. Hobart's
breakfast. Dr. Robertson's "Disquisition." French anarchy.
Madame d'Albany at the House of Lords--[N.] 510

385. To the same, July 12.-Calonne in London. Attack of the
rheumatism--[N 512

386. To the Miss Berrys, July 26.-Tom Paine in England, Crown
and Anchor celebration of the French Revolution. Birmingham
riots. Flight of the King of France to, and return from,
Varennes. Marriage of the Duke of York.  Catherine of Russia.
Bust of Mr. Fox--[N.] 512

387. To Miss Berry, Aug. 17.-Spirit of democracy in
Switzerland. Peace with Russia. M. de Bouill`e's bravado. Sir
William Hamilton's pantomime wife. Antique statues--[N.) 514

388. To the Miss Berrys, Aug. 23.-Miss Harte and her attitudes.
Conversation with Madame du Barry. Account of a boat-race. The
soi-disante Margravine in England--[N.] 516

389. To the same, Sept. 11.-Lord Blandford's marriage. Sir W.
Hamilton married to his Gallery of Statues. Successes in India-
-[N.] 517

390. To the same, Sept. 18.-Mrs. Jordan. Miss Brunton's
marriage. Lord Buchan's jubilee for Thomson. Character of the
"Seasons." Danger of returning to England through France--[N.]
519

391. To the same, Sept. 25.-Valombroso. Ionian antiquities.
Egyptian pyramids. Mr. Gilpin and Richmond Hill--[N.) 520

392. To the Hon. H. S. Conway, Sept: 21.-The French emigrants
at Richmond. Progress of the French Revolution. The Legislative
Assembly. The King's forced acceptance of the new constitution.
Predicts the flight of La Fayette and the Lameths. Condorcet
turned placeman. Character of Mirabeau--(N.] 522

393. To Miss Hannah More, Sept. 29.-State of his health. The
Bishop of London's charity sermon. Miss Berrys. Anxiety for
their safe return from Italy. Miss Burney. Mrs. Barbauld's
Verses on the Abolition of the Slave-trade--[N.) 523

394. To Miss Berry, Oct. 9.-Anxiety for their safe return.
Account of a visit to Windsor Castle. St. George's chapel. The
new screen. Jarvis's window. West's paintings. Story of Peg
Nicholson. Thanks for their disinterested generosity in
returning to England. The Bolognese school. General Gunning and
the tailor's wife--[N.] 526

395. To John Pinkerton, Esq. Dec. 26.-His feelings and
situation on his accession to the title of Earl of Orford--[N.]
--528



                                   1792.

396. To Miss Hannah More, Jan. 1.-Increase of trouble and
business occasioned by his accession to the title--529

397. To Thomas Barrett, Esq., May 14.-Darwin's Triumph of
Flora"--530

398. To Miss Hannah More, Aug. 21.-The Massacre of Paris.
Butcheries at the Tuilleries. Tortures of the King and Queen.
Heroic conduct of Madame Elizabeth. Thankfulness for the
tranquillity of England. Mrs. Wolstoncroft's "Rights of Women."
Gratitude for past comforts, and submission to his future lot--
[N.] 531

399. To the Hon. H. S. Conway, Aug. 31.-Detail of French
Atrocities. Anecdotes of the Duchess of York. State of his
health--533



                                   1793.


400. To Miss Hannah More, Feb. 9.-French horrors. Beheading Of
Louis the Sixteenth. Assignats. Diabolical conduct of the Duke
Of Orleans. heroism of Madame Elizabeth. Sublime sentence of
Father Edgeworth. Speculations on the future--535

401. To the same, March 23.-On her -' Village Politics." French
atheism. Massacre of Manuel. Condorcet's new constitution--538

402. To the Hon. H. S. Conway, June 13.-On parties and
party-men. Injury done to the cause of liberty by the French
republicans--540

403. To the same, July 17.-Sultriness of the season. English
felicity, French atrocities. Separation of Maria Antoinette
from her son--541

404. To the Miss Berrys, Sept. 17.-Reminds them of his first
introduction to them--[N.] 542

405. To the same, Sept. 25.-Visit of the Duchess of York to
Strawberry Hill--[N.] 543

406. To the same, Oct. 6.-Inertness of the grand alliance
against France--[N.] 544

407. To Miss Hannah More, Oct.-On the answer to her pamphlet
against M. Dupont. Atrocities of the French atheists--[N.] 546

408. To the Miss Berrys, Oct. 15.-Arrest of the Duchesse de
Biron, and of the Duchesse de Fleury. Execution of Marie
Antoinette. The Duchesse de la Vali`ere--[N.] 547

409. To the same, Nov. 7.-Murder of Maria Antoinette. Loss of
Lord Montagu and Mr. Burdett in the falls of Schaflhausen.
Suicide of Mr. Tickell. "Death an endless sleep." Mr. Lysons'
Roman Remains. Account of his Own readings--[N.] 549

410. To Miss Berry, Dec. 4.-Visit to Haymarket Theatre.  Young
Bannister in "The Children of the Wood." The Comte de Coigni.
Fate of the Duc de Fleury--[N.] 552

411. To the same, Dec. 13.-Reported successs of Lord Howe, and
the Duke of Brunswick.    Quarrel between Robespierre and
Barr`ere. Fate of Barrave, Orleans, and  Brissot. Mr.
Jerningham's play. Character of Mrs. Howe--(N.] 553



                                   1794.

412. To the Hon. H. S. Conway, Jan. 16.-On the gloomy prospect
of affairs. Jasper Wilson's Letter to Mr. Pitt--555

413. To Miss Berry, April 16.-Successes in Martinico.  Mrs.
Piozzi's "British Synomymes." Mr. Courtenay's verses on him--
[N.] 556

414. To Miss Hannah More, April 27.-An invitation to meet Lady
Waldegrave--556

415. To the Miss Berrys, Sept. 27.-Visit to Mrs. Damer's new
house. Her bust of Mrs. Siddons. Canterbury. A Ghost story.
Lord Holland's buildings at    Kingsgate. Recommends them to
visit Mr. Barrett at Lee--(N.) 558

416. To Miss Berry, Oct. 7.-On the advisability of her
accepting a situation at    court--(N.] 561

417. To the Miss Berrys, Oct. 17.-On their visit to Mr. Barrett
at Lee--(N.] 563

418. To the Rev. Mr. Beloe, Dec. 2.-On his intending to
dedicate his translation    of aulus Gellius to Lord Orford--
564



                                   1795.

419. To Miss Hannah More, Jan. 24.-With his subscription to the
fund for promoting the dispersion of the Cheap Repository
Tracts. Death of Condorcet, Orleans, etC. Justice of
Providence--565

420. To the same, Feb. 13.-On receiving some ballads written by
her for the    Cheap Repository. Bisliol) Wilson's edition of
the Bible presented to her    by Lord Orford--566

421. To William Roscoe, Esq. April 4.-On his sending him a copy
of his Life of Lorenzo de Medici--567

422. To the Hon. H. S. Conway, July 2.-The Queen's expected
visit to Strawberry Hill--569

423. To the same, July 7.-Account of the Queen's visit to
Strawberry Hill--569



                                   1796.

424. To Miss Berry, Aug. 18.-Mr. and Mrs. Conway. Madame
Arblay's    "Camilla." Arundel Castle. Monuments of the
Fitzalans. Account of a visit from Mr. Penticross--[N.] 570

425. To the same, Auff. 24.-Arundel Castle. Chapel of the
Fitzalans--[N.) 572

426. To Miss Hannah More, Aug. 29.-Giving an account of his
health; and expressing gratitude to God for the blessings he
enjoys--573

427. To Richard          Gough, Eq. Dec. 3.-Thanking him for
the second volume of his    "Sepulchral Monuments"--574

(428. To Miss Berry, Dec. 15.-Account Of the debates in the
House of Commons    on the Loan to the Emperor. Death of Lord
Orford--[N.] 575



                                   1797

429. To the Countess of Ossory, Jan. 13--576


                             End of Volume IV.




Letter 1 To Sir David Dalrymple.(1)
Arlington Street, Jan. 1, 1770. (page 25)

Sir,
I have read with great pleasure and information, your History
of Scottish Councils.  It gave me much more satisfaction than I
could have expected from so dry a subject.  It will be perused,
do not doubt it, by men of taste and judgment; and it is happy
that it will be read Without occasioning a controversy.  The
curse of modern times is, that almost every thing does create
controversy, and that men who are willing to instruct or amuse
the world have to dread malevolence and interested censure,
instead of receiving thanks.  If your part of our country is at
all free from that odious spirit, you are to be envied.  In our
region we are given up to every venomous mischievous passion,
and as we behold all the public vices that raged in and
destroyed the remains of the Roman Commonwealth, so I wish we
do not experience some of the horrors that brought on the same
revolution.  When we see men who call themselves patriots and
friends of liberty attacking the House of Commons, to what,
Sir, can you and I, who are really friends of liberty, impute
such pursuits, but to interest and disappointed ambition! When
we see, on one hand, the prerogative of the Crown excited
against Parliament, and on the other, the King and Royal Family
traduced and insulted in the most shameless manner, can we
believe such a faction is animated by honesty or love of the
constitution?  When, as you very sensibly observe, the authors
of grievances are the loudest to complain of them, and when
those authors and their capital enemies shake hands, embrace,
and join in a common cause, which set can we believe most or
least sincere?  And when every set of men have acted every
part, to whom shall the well-meaning look up?  What can the
latter do, but sit with folded arms and pray for miracles?
Yes, Sir, they may weep over a prospect of ruin too probably
approaching, and regret a glorious country nodding to its fall,
when victory, wealth, and daily universal improvements, might
make it the admiration and envy of the world?  Is the Crown to
be forced to be absolute?  Is Caesar to enslave us, because he
conquered Gaul?  Is some Cromwell to trample on us, because
Mrs. Macaulay approves the army that turned out the House of
Commons, the necessary consequence of such mad notions?  Is
eloquence to talk or write us out of ourselves? or is Catiline
to save us, butt so as by fire?  Sir, I talk thus freely,
because it is a satisfaction, in ill-looking moments, to vent
one's apprehensions in an honest bosom.  YOU Will not, I am
sure, suffer my letter to go out of your own hands.  I have no
views to satisfy or resentments to gratify.  I have done with
the world, except in the hopes of a quiet enjoyment of it for
the few years I may have to come; but I love my country, though
I desire and expect nothing from it, and I would wish to leave
it to posterity, as secure and deserving to be valued, as I
found it.  Despotism, or unbounded licentiousness, can endear
no nation to any honest man.  The French can adore the monarch
that starves them, and banditti are often attached to their
chief; but no good Briton can love any constitution that does
not secure the tranquillity and peace of mind of all.

(1) Now first collected.



Letter 2 To Sir David Dalrymple.(2)
Arlington Street, Jan. 23, 1770. (page 26)

Sir,
I have not had time to return you the enclosed sooner, but I
give you my honour that it has neither been out of my hands,
nor been copied.  It is a most curious piece, but though
affecting art has very little; so ill is the satire disguised.
I agree with you in thinking it ought not to be published yet,
as nothing is more cruel than divulging private letters which
may wound the living.  I have even the same tenderness for the
children of persons concerned; but I laugh at delicacy for
grandchildren, who can be affected by nothing but their pride-
-and let that be hurt if it will.  It always finds means of
consoling itself.

The rapid history of Mr. Yorke is very touching.(3)  For
himself, he has escaped a torrent of obloquy, which this
unfeeling and prejudiced moment was ready to pour on him.  Many
of his survivors may, perhaps, live to envy him! Madness and
wickedness gain ground--and you may be sure borrow the chariot
of virtue.  Lord Chatham, not content with endeavouring to
confound and overturn the legislature, has thrown out, that one
member more ought to be added to each county;(4) so little do
ambition -,And indulgence scruple to strike at fundamentals!
Sir George Savile and Edmund Burke, as if envying the infamous
intoxication of Wilkes, have attacked the House of Commons
itself, in the most gross and vilifying language.(5)  In short,
the plot thickens fast, and Catilines start up in every street.
I cannot say Ciceros and Catos arise to face them.  The
phlegmatic and pedants in history quote King William's and
Sacheverel's times to show the present is not more serious; but
if I have any reading, I must remember that the repetition of
bad scenes brings about a catastrophe at last!  It is small
consolation to living sufferers to reflect that history will
rejudge great criminals; nor is that sure.  How seldom is
history fairly stated!  When do all men concur in the Same
sentence?  Do the guilty dead regard its judicature, or they
who prefer the convict to the judge?  Besides, an ape of Sylla
will call himself Brutus, and the foolish people assist a
proscription before they suspect that their hero is an
incendiary.  Indeed, Sir, we are, as Milton says--

"On evil days fallen and evil tongues!"

I shall be happy to find I have had too gloomy apprehensions.
A  man, neither connected with ministers nor opponents, may
speculate too subtly.  If all this is but a scramble for power,
let it fall to whose lot it will!  It is the attack on the
constitution that strikes me.  I have nothing to say for the
corruption of senators; but if the senate itself is declared
vile by authority, that is by a dissolution, will a re-election
restore its honour?  Will Wilkes, and Parson Horne, and Junius
(for they will name the members) give us more virtuous
representations than ministers have done?  Reformation must be
a blessed work in the hands of such reformers!  Moderation, and
attachment to the constitution, are my principles.  Is the
latter to be risked rather than endure any single evil?  I
would oppose, that is restrain, by opposition check, each
branch of the legislature that predominates in its turn;--but
if I detest Laud, it does not make me love Hugh Peters.

Adieu, Sir! I must not tire you with my reflections; but as I
am flattered with thinking I have the sanction of the same
sentiments in you, it is natural to indulge even unpleasing
meditations when one meets with sympathy, and it is as natural
for those who love their country to lament its danger.  I am,
Sir, etc.

(2) Now first collected.

(3) On the 17th, Mr. Charles Yorke was appointed lord
chancellor, and a patent was ordered to be made out, creating
him a peer, by the title of Lord Morden; but, three days after,
before the patent could be completed, he suddenly closed his
valuable life, at the early age of forty-eight.-E.

(4) Lord Chatham, on the preceding day, had made his celebrated
speech on the state of the nation, which had the good fortune
to be ably reported by Sir Philip Francis, and attracted the
particular attention of Junius.  The following is the passage
which gave Walpole so much offence:--"Since we cannot cure the
disorder, let us endeavour to infuse such a portion of new
health into the constitution, as may enable it to support its
most inveterate diseases.  The representation of the counties
is, I think, still preserved pure and uncorrupted.  That of the
greatest cities is upon a footing equally respectable; and
there are many of the larger trading towns which stilt preserve
their independence.  The infusion of health which I now allude
to would be to permit every county to elect one member more in
addition to their present representation."  Sir Philip
Francis's report of this speech was first printed by Almon in
1792.  Junius, in a letter to Wilkes, of the 7th of September
1771, says--"I approve highly of Lord Chatham's idea of
infusing a portion of new health into the constitution, to
enable it to bear its infirmities; a brilliant expression, and
full of intrinsic wisdom."  There can be little doubt that
Junius and Sir Philip Francis were present in the House of
Lords, when this speech was delivered.  See Chatham
Correspondence, vol. iii. p. 406.-E.

(5) The speeches of Sir George Savile and Mr. Burke, above
alluded to, will be found in Sir Henry Cavendish's Debates.-E.



Letter 3. To George Montagu, Esq.
Arlington Street, March 31, 1770. (page 28)

I shall be extremely obliged to you for Alderman Backwell.  A
scarce print is a real present to me, who have a table of
weights and measures in my head very different from that of the
rich and covetous.  I am glad your journey was prosperous.  The
weather here has continued very sharp, but it has been making
preparations for April to-day, and watered the streets with
some soft showers.  They will send me to Strawberry to-morrow,
where I hope to find the lilacs beginning to put forth their
little noses.  Mr. Chute mends very slowly, but you know he has
as much patience as gout.

I depend upon seeing you whenever you return this wayward.  You
will find the round chamber far advanced, though not finished;
for my undertakings do not stride with the impetuosity of my
youth.  This single room has been half as long in completing as
all the rest of the castle.  My compliments to Mr. John, whom I
hope to see at the same time.



Letter 4 To George Montagu, Esq.
Strawberry Hill May 6, 1770. (page 28)

If you are like me, you are fretting at the weather.  We have
not a leaf, yet, large enough to make an apron for a Miss Eve
at two years old.  Flowers and fruits, if they come at all this
year, must meet together as they do in a Dutch picture; our
lords and ladies, however, couple as if it were the real
Giovent`u dell' anno.  Lord Albemarle,(6) you know has
disappointed all his brothers and my niece; and Lord
Fitzwilliam is declared sposo to Lady Charlotte Ponsonby.(7)
It is a pretty match, and makes Lord Besborough as happy as
possible.

Masquerades proceed in spite of church and King.  The Bishop of
London persuaded that good soul the Archbishop to remonstrate
against them; but happily the age prefers silly follies to
serious ones, and dominos, comme de raison, carry It against
lawn sleeves.(8)

There is a new Institution that begins to and if it proceeds,
will make a considerable noise.  It is a club of both sexes to
be erected at Almack's, on the model of that of the men at
White's.  Mrs. Fitzroy, Lady Pembroke, Mrs. Meynel, Lady
Molyneux, MISS Pelham, and Miss Loyd, are the foundresses.  I
am ashamed to say I am of so young and fashionable a society;
but as they are people I live with, I choose to be idle rather
than morose.  I can go to a young supper, without forgetting
how much sand is run out of the hourglass.  Yet I shall never
pass a triste old age in turning the psalms into Latin or
English verse.  My plan is to pass away calmly; cheerfully if I
can; sometimes to amuse myself with the rising generation, but
to take care not to fatigue them, nor weary them with old
stories, which will not interest them, as their adventures do
not interest me.  Age would indulge prejudices if it did not
sometimes polish itself against younger acquaintance; but it
must be the work of folly if one hopes to contract friendship
with them, or desires it, or thinks one can become the same
follies, or expects that they should do more than bear one for
one's good humour.  In short, they are a pleasant medicine,
that one should take care not to grow fond of.  Medicines hurt
when habit has annihilated their force; but you see I am in no
danger.  I intend by degrees to decrease my opium, instead of
augmenting the dose.  Good-night!  You see I never let our
long-lived friendship drop, though you give it so few
opportunities of breathing.

(6) George, third Earl of Albemarle.  His lordship had married,
on the 20th of April, Anne, youngest daughter of Sir John
Miller, Bart. of Chichester.  He died in October 1772.-E.

(7) Lady Charlotte Ponsonby, second daughter of William, second
Earl of Besborough.  The marriage took place on the 1st of
July.-E.

(8) Dr. Johnson, having read in the newspapers an account of a
masquerade given at Edinburgh, by the Countess Dowager of Fife,
at which Boswell had appeared in the character of a dumb
conjuror, thus wrote to him:--"I have heard of your masquerade.
What says your synod to such innovations?  I am not studiously
scrupulous, nor do I think a Masquerade either evil in itself
or very likely to be the occasion of evil, yet, as the world
thinks it a very licentious relaxation of manners, I would not
have been one of the first masquers in a country where no
masquerades had ever been before."-E.



Letter 5 To George Montagu, Esq.
Strawberry Hill, June 11, 1770. (page 29)

My company and I have wished for you very much to-day.  The
Duchess of Portland, Mrs. Delany, Mr. Bateman, and your cousin,
Fred. Montagu, dined here.  Lord Guildford was very obliging,
and would have come if he dared have ventured.  Mrs. Montagu
was at Bill-hill with Lady Gower.  The day was tolerable, with
sun enough for the house, though not for the garden.  You, I
suppose, will never come again, as I have not a team of horses
large enough to draw you out of the clay of Oxfordshire.

I went yesterday to see my niece(9) in her new principality of
Ham.  It delighted me and made me peevish.  Close to the
Thames, in the centre of all rich and verdant beauty, it is so
blocked up and barricaded with walls, vast trees, and gates,
that you think yourself an hundred miles off and an hundred
years back.  The old furniture is so magnificently ancient,
dreary and decayed, that at every step one's spirits sink, and
all my passion for antiquity could not keep them up.  Every
minute I expected to see ghosts sweeping by; ghosts I would not
give sixpence to See, Lauderdales, Tollcmaches, and Maitlands.
There is one old brown gallery full of Vandycks and Lelys,
charming miniatures, delightful Wouvermans, and Polenburghs,
china, japan, bronzes, ivory cabinets, and silver dogs, pokers,
bellows, etc. without end.  One pair of bellows is of filigree.
In this state of pomp and tatters my nephew intends it shall
remain, and is so religious an observer of the venerable rites
of his house, that because the gates never were opened by his
father but once for the late Lord Granville, you are locked out
and locked in, and after journeying all round the house, as you
do round an old French fortified town, you are at last admitted
through the stable-yard to creep along a dark passage by the
housekeeper's room, and so by a back-door into the great hall.
He seems as much afraid of water as a cat; for though you might
enjoy the Thames from every window of three sides of the house,
you may tumble into it before you guess it is there.  In short,
our ancestors had so little idea of taste and beauty, that I
should not have been surprised if they had hung their pictures
with the painted sides to the wall.  Think of such a palace
commanding all the reach of Richmond and Twickenham, with a
domain from the foot of Richmond-hill to Kingston-bridge, and
then imagine its being as dismal and prospectless as if it
stood "on Stanmore's wintry wild!" I don't see why a man should
not be divorced from his prospect as well as from his wife, for
not being able to enjoy it.  Lady Dysart frets, but it is not
the etiquette of the family to yield, and @ she must content
herself with her chateau of Tondertentronk as well as she can.
She has another such ample prison in Suffolk, and may be glad
to reside where she is.  Strawberry, with all its painted glass
and gloom, looked as gay when I came home as Mrs. Cornelis's
ball-room.

I am very busy about the last volume of my Painters, but have
lost my index, and am forced again to turn over all my Vertues,
forty volumes of miniature MSS.; so that this will be the third
time I shall have made an index to them.  Don't say that I am
not persevering, and yet I thought I was grown idle.  What
pains one takes to be forgotten! Good-night!

(9) Charlotte, daughter of Sir Edward Walpole, married to Lord
Huntingtower, who had just succeeded to the title of the Earl
of Dysart, on the death of his father.-E.



Letter 6 To George Montagu, Esq.
Strawberry Hill, June 29, 1770. (page 30)

Since the sharp mountain will not come to the little hill, the
little hill must go to the mountain.  In short, what do you
think of seeing me walk into your parlour a few hours after
this epistle!  I had not time to notify myself sooner.  The
case is, Princess Amelia has insisted on my going with her to,
that is, meeting her at Stowe on Monday, for a week.  She
mentioned it to me some time ago, and I thought I had parried
it; but having been with her at Park-place these two or three
days, she has commanded it so positively that I could not
refuse.  Now, as it would be extremely inconvenient to my
indolence to be dressed up in weepers and hatbands by six
o'clock in the morning, and lest I should be taken for chief
mourner going to Beckford's funeral,(10) I trust you will be
charitable enough to give me a bed at Adderbury for one night,
whence I can arrive at Stowe in a decent time, and caparisoned
as I ought to be, when I have lost a brother-in-law(11) and am
to meet a Princess.  Don't take me for a Lauson, and think all
this favour portends a second marriage between our family and
the blood-royal; nor that my visit to Stowe implies my
espousing Miss Wilkes.  I think I shall die as I am, neither
higher nor lower; and above all things, no more politics.  Yet
I shall have many a private smile to myself, as I wander among
all those consecrated and desecrated buildings, and think what
company I am in, and of all that is past; but I must shorten my
letter, or you will not have finished it when I arrive.  Adieu!
Yours, a-coming! a-coming!

(10) William Beckford, Esq. Lord Mayor of London, who died on
the 21st of June, during his second mayoralty, in the
sixty-fifth year of his age.  On the 5th of the following
month, at a meeting of the Common Council, "a motion being made
and question put, that the statue of the Right Hon. William
Beckford, late Lord Mayor, deceased, be erected in the
Guildhall of this city, with the inscription of his late
address to his Majesty, the was resolved in the affirmative."
The speech here alluded to is the one which the Alderman
addressed to his Majesty on the 23d of May, with reference to
the King's reply--"That he should have been wanting to the
public, as well as to himself, if he had not expressed his
dissatisfaction at the late address."  At the end of the
Alderman's speech, in his copy of the City Addresses, Mr. Isaac
Reed has inserted the following note:--"It is a curious fact,
but a true one, that Beckford did not utter one syllable of
this speech.  It was penned by Horne Tooke, and by his art put
on the records of the city and on Beckford's statue; as he told
me, Mr. Braithwaite, Mr. Sayers, etc. at the Athenian club.
Isaac Reed."  There can be little doubt that the worthy
commentator and his friends were imposed upon.  In the Chatham
Correspondence, vol. iii. p. 460, a letter from Sheriff
Townsend to the Earl expressly states, that with the exception
of the words "and necessary" being left out before the word
"revolution," the Lord Mayor's speech in the Public Advertiser
of the preceding day is verbatim the one delivered to the
King.--E.

(11) George third Earl of Cholmondeley.  He married, in 1723,
Mary the youngest daughter of @Sir Robert Walpole.-E.



Letter 7 To George Montagu, Esq.
Adderbury, Sunday night, July 1, 1770. (page 32

You will be enough surprised to receive a letter from me dated
from your own house, and may judge of my mortification at not
finding you here; exactly as it happened two years ago.  In
short, here I am, and will tell you how I came here; in truth,
not a little against my will.  I have been at Park-place with
Princess Amelia, and she insisted on my meeting her at Stowe
to-morrow.  She had mentioned it before, and as I have no
delight in a royal progress, and as little in the Seigneur
Temple, I waived the honour and pleasure, and thought I should
hear no more of it.  However, the proposal was turned into a
command, and every body told me I could not refuse.  Well, I
could not come so near, and not call upon you; besides, it is
extremely convenient to my Lord Castlecomer, for it would have
been horrid to set out at seven o'clock in the morning, full-
dressed, in my weepers, and to step out of my chaise into a
drawing-room.  I wrote to you on Friday, the soonest I could
after this was settle(], to notify myself to you, but find I am
arrived before my letter.  Mrs. White is all goodness; and
being the first of July, and consequently the middle of winter,
has given me a good fire and some excellent coffee and bread
and butter, and I am as comfortable as possible, except in
having missed you.  She insists on acquainting you, which makes
me write this to prevent your coming; for as I must depart at
twelve o'clock to-morrow, it would be dragging you home before
your time for only half an hour, and I have too much regard for
Lord Guildford to deprive him of your company.  Don't therefore
think of making this unnecessary compliment.  I have treated
your house like an inn, and it will not be friendly, if you do
not make as free with me.  I had much rather that you would
take it for a visit that you ought to repay.  Make my best
compliments to your brother and Lord Guildford, and pity me for
the six dreadful days that I am going to pass.  Rosette is fast
asleep in your chair, or I am sure she would write a
postscript.  I cannot say she is either commanded or invited to
be of this royal party; but have me, have my dog.

I must not forget to thank you for mentioning Mrs. Wetenhall,
on whom I should certainly wait with great pleasure, but have
no manner of intention of going into Cheshire.  There is not a
chair or stool in Cholmondeley, and my nephew, I believe, will
pull it down.  He has not a fortune to furnish or inhabit it;
and, if his uncle should leave him one, he would choose a
pleasanter country.  Adieu! Don't be formal with me, and don't
trouble your hand about yours ever.



Letter 8 To George Montagu, Esq.
Strawberry Hill, Saturday night, July 7, 1770. (page 33)

After making an inn of your house, it is but decent to thank
you for my entertainment, and to acquaint you with the result
of my journey.  The party passed off much better than I
expected.  A Princess at the Heart of a very small set for five
days together did not promise well.  However, she was very
good-humoured and easy, and dispensed with a large quantity of
etiquette.  Lady Temple is good-nature itself, my lord was very
civil, Lord Besborough is made to suit all sorts of people,
Lady Mary Coke respects royalty too much not to be very
condescending, Lady Anne Howard(12) and Mrs. Middleton filled
up the drawing-room, or rather made it out, and I was so
determined to carry it off as well as I could, and happened to
be in such good spirits, and took such care to avoid politics,
that we laughed a great deal, and had not one cloud the whole
time.

We breakfasted at half an hour after nine; but the Princess did
not appear till it was finished; then we walked in the garden,
or drove about in cabriolets, till it was time to dress; dined
at three, which, though properly proportioned to the smallness
of company to avoid ostentation, lasted a vast While, as the
Princess eats and talks a great deal; then again into the
garden till past seven, when we came in, drank tea and coffee,
and played at pharaoh till ten, when the Princess retired, and
we went to supper, and before twelve to bed.  You see there was
great sameness and little vivacity in all this.  It was a
little broken by fishing, and going round the park one of the
mornings; but, in reality, the number of buildings and variety
of scenes in the garden, made each day different from the rest,
and my meditations on so historic a spot prevented my being
tired.  Every acre brings to one's mind some instance of the
parts or pedantry, of the taste or want of taste, of the
ambition or love of fame, or greatness or miscarriages, of
those that have inhabited, decorated, planned, or visited the
place.  Pope, Congreve, Vanbrugh, Kent, Gibbs, Lord Cobham,
Lord Chesterfield, the mob of nephews, the Lytteltons,
Granvilles, Wests, Leonidas Glover, and Wilkes, the late Prince
of Wales, the King of Denmark, Princess Amelia, and the proud
monuments of Lord Chatham's services, now enshrined there, then
anathematized there, and now again commanding there, with the
temple of Friendship, like the temple of Janus, sometimes open
to war, and sometimes shut up in factious cabals--all these
images crowd upon one's memory, and add visionary personages to
the charming scenes, that are so enriched with fanes and
temples, that the real prospects are little less than visions
themselves.

On Wednesday night, a small Vauxhall was acted for us at the
grotto in the Elysian fields, which was illuminated with lamps,
as were the thicket and two little barks on the lake.  With a
little exaggeration I could make you believe that nothing was
so delightful.  The idea was really pretty; but as my feelings
have lost something of their romantic sensibility, I did not
quite enjoy such an entertainment alfresco so much as I should
have done twenty years ago.  The evening was more than cool,
and the destined spot any thing but dry.  There were not half
lamps enough, and no music but an ancient militia-man, who
played cruelly on a squeaking tabor and pipe.  As our
procession descended the vast flight of' steps into the garden,
in which was assembled a crowd of people from Buckingham and
the neighbouring villages to see the Princess and the show, the
moon shining very bright, I could not help laughing as I
surveyed our troop, which, instead of tripping lightly to such
an Arcadian entertainment, were hobbling down by the
balustrades, wrapt up in cloaks and greatcoats, for fear of
catching cold.  The Earl, you know, is bent double, the
Countess very lame; I am a miserable walker, and the Princess,
though as strong as a Brunswick lion, makes no figure in going
down fifty stone stairs.  Except Lady Anne, and by courtesy
Lady Mary, we were none of us young enough for a pastoral.  We
supped in the grotto, which is as proper to this climate as a
sea-coal fire would be in the dog-days at Tivoli.

But the chief entertainment of the week, at least what was so
to the Princess, was an arch, which Lord Temple has erected to
her honour in the most enchanting of all picturesque scenes.
It is inscribed on one side, 'Amelia Sophia Aug.,' and has a
medallion of her on the other.  It is placed on an eminence at
the top of the Elysian fields, in a grove of orange-trees.  You
come to it on a sudden, and are startled with delight on
looking through it: you at once see, through a glade, the river
winding at the bottom; from which a thicket arises, arched over
with trees, but opened, and discovering a hillock full of
haycocks, beyond which in front is the Palladian bridge, and
again over that a larger hill crowned with the castle.  It is a
tall landscape framed by the arch and the overhovering trees,
and comprehending more beauties of light, shade, and buildings,
than any picture of Albano I ever saw.  Between the flattery
and the prospect the Princess was really in Elysium: she
visited her arch four or five times every day, and could not
satiate herself with it.  statues of Apollo and the Muses stand
on each side of the arch.  One day she found in Apollo's hand
the following lines, which I had written for her, and
communicated to Lord Temple:--

T'other day, with a beautiful frown on her brow,
To the rest of the gods said the Venus of Stowe,
"What a fuss is here made with that arch just erected,
How our temples are slighted, our antirs neglected!
Since yon nymph has appear'd, We are noticed no more,
All resort to her shrine, all her presence adore;
And what's more provoking, before all our faces,
Temple thither has drawn both the Muses and Graces."
"Keep your temper, dear child," Phoebus cried with a smile,
"Nor this happy, this amiable festival spoil.
Can your shrine any longer with garlands be dress'd?
When a true goddess reigns, all the false are suppress'd."

If you will keep my counsel, I will own to you, that originally
the two last lines were much better, but I was forced to alter
them out of decorum, not to be too pagan upon the occasion; in
short, here they are as in the first sketch,--

"Recollect, once before that our oracle ceased,
When a real divinity rose in the East."

So many heathen temples around had made me talk as a Roman poet
would have done: but I corrected my verses, and have made them
insipid enough to offend nobody.  Good night!  I am rejoiced to
be once more in the gay solitude of my own little Temple.  Yours
ever.

(12) Lady Anne Howard, daughter of Henry fourth Earl, and
sister of Frederick fifth Earl of Carlisle.-E.



Letter 9 To The Earl Of Strafford.
Strawberry Hill, July 9, 1770. (page 35)

I am not going to tell you, my dear lord, of the diversions or
honours of Stowe, which I conclude Lady Mary has writ to Lady
Strafford.  Though the week passed cheerfully enough, it was
more glory than I should have sought of my own head.  The
journeys to Stowe and Park-place have deranged my projects so,
that I don't know where I am, and I wish they have not given me
the gout into the bargain; for I am come back very lame, and
not at all with the bloom that one ought to have imported from
the Elysian field.  Such jaunts when one is growing old is
playing with edged-tools, as my Lord Chesterfield, in one of
his Worlds,(13) makes the husband say to his wife, when she
pretends that gray powder does not become her.  It is charming
at twenty to play at Elysian fields, but it is no joke at
fifty; or too great a joke.  It made me laugh as we were
descending the great flight of steps from the house to go and
sup in the grotto on the banks of Helicon: we were so cloaked
up, for the evening was very cold, and so many of us were
limping and hobbling, that Charon would have easily believed we
were going to ferry over in earnest.  It is with much more
comfort that I am writing to your lordship in the great
bow-window of my new round room, which collects all the rays of
the southwest sun, and composes a sort of summer; a feel I have
not known this year, except last Thursday.  If the rains should
ever cease, and the weather settle to fine, I shall pay you my
visit at Wentworth Castle; but hitherto the damps have affected
me so much, that I am more disposed to return to London and
light my fire, than brave the humours of a climate so
capricious and uncertain, in the country.  I cannot help
thinking it grows worse; I certainly remember such a thing as
dust: nay, I still have a clear idea of it, though I have seen
none for some years, and should put some grains in a bottle for
a curiosity, if it should ever fly again.

News I know none.  You may be sure it was a subject carefully
avoided at Stowe; and Beckford's death had not raised the glass
or spirits of the master of the house.  The papers make one
sick with talking of that noisy vapouring fool, as they would
of Algernon Sidney.

I have not happened to see your future nephew, though we have
exchanged visits.  It was the first time I had been at
Marble-hill, since poor Lady Suffolk's death; and the
impression was so uneasy, that I was not sorry not to find him
at home.  Adieu, my good lord!  Except seeing you both, nothing
can be more agreeable than to hear of yours and Lady
Strafford's health, who, I hope, continues perfectly well.

(13) No. 18. A Country Gentleman's Tour to Paris with his
Family.-E.



Letter 10 To The Hon. H. S. Conway.
Arlington Street, July 12, 1770. (page 36)

Reposing under my laurels!  No, no, I am reposing in a much
better tent, under the tester of my own bed.  I am not obliged
to rise by break of day and be dressed for the drawing-room; I
may saunter in my slippers till dinner-time, and not make bows
till my back is as much out of joint as my Lord Temple's.  In
short, I should die of the gout or fatigue, if I was to be
Polonius to a Princess for another week.  Twice a-day we made a
pilgrimage to almost every heathen temple in that province that
they call a garden; and there is no sallying out of the house
without descending a flight of steps as high as St. Paul's.  My
Lord Besborough would have dragged me up to the top of the
column, to see all the kingdoms of the earth; but I would not,
if he could have given them to me.  To crown all, because we
live under the line, and that we were all of us giddy young
creatures, of near threescore, we supped in a grotto in the
Elysian fields, and were refreshed with rivers of dew and
gentle showers that dripped from all the trees, and put us in
mind of the heroic ages, when kings and queens were shepherds
and shepherdesses, and lived in caves, and were wet to the skin
two or three times a-day.  Well! thank Heaven, I am emerged
from that Elysium, and once more in a Christian country!--Not
but, to say the truth, our pagan landlord and landlady were
very obliging, and the party went off much better than I
expected.  We had no very recent politics, though volumes about
the Spanish war; and as I took care to give every thing a
ludicrous turn as much as I could, the Princess was diverted,
the six days rolled away, and the seventh is my sabbath; and I
promise you i will do no manner of work, I, nor my cat, nor my
dog, nor any thing that is mine.  For this reason, I entreat
that the journey to Goodwood may not take place before the 12th
of August, when I will attend you.  But this expedition to
Stowe has quite blown up my intended one to Wentworth Castle: I
have not resolution enough left for such a journey.  Will you
and Lady Ailesbury come to Strawberry before, or after
Goodwood? I know you like being dragged from home as little as
I do; therefore you shall place that visit just when it is most
convenient to you.

I came to town the night before last, and am just returning.
There are not twenty people in all London.  Are not YOU in
despair about the summer? It is horrid to be ruined in coals in
June and July.  Adieu.  Yours ever.



Letter 11 To George Montagu, Esq.
Strawberry Hill, July 14, 1770. (page 37)

I see by the papers this morning that Mr. Jenkinson(14) is
dead.  He had the reversion of my place, which would go away,
if I should lose my brother.  I have no pretensions to ask it,
and you know It has long been my fixed resolution not to accept
it.  But as Lord North is your particular friend, I think it
right to tell you, that you may let him know what it is worth,
that he may give it to one of his own sons, and not bestow it
on somebody else, without being apprised of its value.  I have
seldom received less than fourteen hundred a-year in money, and
my brother, I think, has four more from it.  There are besides
many places in the gift of the office, and one or two very
considerable.  Do not mention this but to Lord North, or Lord
Guilford.  It is unnecessary, I am sure, for me to say to you,
but I would wish them to be assured that in saying this, I am
incapable of, and above any finesse, or view, to myself.  I
refused the reversion for myself several years ago, when Lord
Holland was secretary of state, and offered to obtain it for
me.  Lord Bute, I believe, would have been very glad to have
given it to me, before he gave it to Jenkinson; but I say it
very seriously, and you know me enough to be certain I am in
earnest, that I would not accept it upon any account.  Any
favour Lord North will do for you will give me all the
satisfaction I desire.  I am near fifty-three; I have neither
ambition nor interest to gratify.  I can live comfortably for
the remainder of my life, though I should be poorer by fourteen
hundred pounds a-year; but I should have no comfort if, in the
dregs of life, I did any thing that I would not do when I was
twenty years younger.  I will trust to you, therefore, to make
Use of this information in the friendly manner I mean it, and
to prevent my being hurt by its being taken otherwise than as a
design to serve those to whom you wish well.  Adieu! Yours
ever.

(14) Charles Jenkinson, at this time one of the lords of the
treasury.  In 1786, He was created Baron Hawkesbury, and in
1796 advanced to the dignity of Earl of Liverpool.-E.



Letter 12 To George Montagu, Esq.
Strawberry Hill, Sunday, [July 15, 1770.] (page 38)

I am sorry I wrote to you last night, for I find it is Mrs.
Jenkinson(15) that is dead, and not Mr.; and therefore I should
be glad to have this arrive time enough to prevent your
mentioning the contents of my letter.  In that case, I should
not be concerned to have given you that mark of my constant
good wishes, nor to have talked to you of my affairs, which are
as well in your breast as my own.  They never disturb me; for
my mind has long taken its stamp, and as I shall leave nobody
much younger than myself behind me for whom I am solicitous, I
have no desire beyond being easy for the rest of my life I
could not be so if I stooped to have obligations to any man
beyond what it would ever be in my power to return.  When I was
in Parliament, I had the additional reason of choosing to be
entirely free; and my strongest reason of all is, that I will
be at liberty to speak truth both living and dead.  This
outweighs all considerations of interest, and will convince
you, though I believe you do not want that conviction, that my
yesterday's letter was as sincere in its resolution as in its
professions to you.  Let the matter drop entirely, as it is now
Of no consequence.  Adieu!  Yours ever.

(15) Amelia, daughter of William Watts, Esq. formerly governor
of Fort William, in Bengal.-E.



Letter 13 To George Montagu, Esq.
Strawberry Hill, Oct. 3, 1770. (page 38)


I am going on in the sixth week of my fit, and having had a
return this morning in my knee, I cannot flatter myself with
any approaching prospect of recovery.  The gate of painful age
seems open to me, and I must travel through it as I may!  If
you have not written one word for another, I am at a loss to
understand you.  You say you have taken a house in London for a
year, that you are gone to Waldeshare for six months, and then
shall come for the winter.  Either you mean six weeks, or
differ with most people in reckoning April the beginning of
winter.  I hope your pen was in a hurry, rather than your
calculation so uncommon; I certainly shall be glad of your
residing in London.  I have long wished to live nearer to you,
but it was in happier days.  I am now so dismayed by these
returns of gout, that I can promise myself few comforts in any
future scenes of my life.

I am much obliged to Lord Guildford and Lord North, and was
very sorry that the latter came to see Strawberry in so bad a
day, and when I was so extremely ill, and full of pain, that I
scarce knew he was here; and as my coachman was gone to London,
to fetch me bootikins, there was no carriage to offer him; but,
indeed, in the condition I then was, I was not capable of doing
any of the honours of my house, suffering at once in my hand,
knee, and both feet.  I am still lifted out of bed by two
servants; and by their help travel from my bedchamber down to
the couch in my blue room; but I shall conclude, rather than
tire you with so unpleasant a history.  Adieu!  Yours ever.



Letter 14 To George Montagu, Esq.
Arlington Street, Oct. 16, 1770. (page 39)

At last I have been able to remove to London; but though long
weeks are gone and over since I was seized, I am only able to
creep about upon a flat floor, but cannot go up and down
stairs.  However, I have patience, as I can at least fetch a
book for myself', instead of having a servant bring me a wrong
one.  I am much obliged to Lord Guildford for his goodness to
me, and beg my thanks to him.  When you go to Canterbury, pray
don't wake the Black Prince.  I am very unwarlike, and desire
to live the rest of my time upon the stock of glory I saved to
my share Out Of the last war.  I know not more news than I did
at Strawberry; there are not more people in town than I saw
there, and I intend to return thither on Friday or Saturday.
Adieu! Yours ever.



Letter 15 To The Earl Of Strafford.
Arlington Street, Oct. 16, 1770. (page 39)

Though I have so very little to say, it is but my duty, my dear
lord, to thank you for your extreme goodness to me and your
inquiring after me.  I was very bad again last week, but have
mended so much since Friday night, that I really now believe
the fit is over.  I came to town on Sunday, and can creep about
my room even without a stick, which is more felicity to me than
if I had got a white one.  I do not aim yet at such preferment
as walking up stairs; but having moulted my stick, I flatter
myself I shall come forth again without being lame.  The few I
have seen tell me there is nobody else in town.  That is no
grievance to me, when I should be at the mercy of all that
should please to bestow their idle time upon me.  I know
nothing of the war-egg, but that sometimes it is to be hatched
and sometimes to be addled.(16)  Many folks get into the nest,
and sit as hard upon it as they can, concluding it will produce
a golden chick.  As I shall not be a feather the better for it,
I hate that game-breed, and prefer the old hen Peace and her
dunghill brood.  My compliments to my lady and all her poultry.

(16) The dispute with Spain relative to the possession of the
Falkland Islands, had led to a considerable augmentation both
of the army and navy; which gave an appearance of authenticity
to the rumours of war which were now in circulation.-E.



Letter 16 To The Earl Of Charlemont.(17)
Arlington Street, Oct. 17, 1770. (page 40)

My lord,
I am very glad your lordship resisted your disposition to make
me an apology for doing me a great honour; for, if you had not,
the Lord knows where I should have found words to have made a
proper return.  Still you have left me greatly in your debt.
It is very kind to remember me, and kinder to honour me with
your commands: they shall be zealously obeyed to the utmost of
my little credit; for an artist that your lordship patronises
will, I imagine, want little recommendation, besides his own
talents.  It does not look, indeed, like very prompt obedience,
when I am yet guessing only at Mr. Jervais's merit; but though
he has lodged himself within a few doors of me, I have not been
able to get to him, having been confined near two months with
the gout, and still keeping my house.  My first visit shall be
to gratify my duty and curiosity.  I am sorry to say, and beg
your lordship's pardon for the confession, that, however high
an opinion I have of your taste in the arts, I do not equally
respect your judgment in books.  it is in truth a defect that
you have in common with the two great men who are the
respective models of our present parties--

"The hero William, and the martyr Charles."

You know what happened to them after patronising Kneller and
Bernini--

"One knighted Blackmore, and one pensioned Quarles."

After so saucy an attack, my lord, it is time to produce my
proof.  It lies in your own postscript, where you express a
curiosity to see a certain tragedy, with a hint that the other
works of the same author have found favour in your sight, and
that the piece ought to have been sent to you.  But, my lord,
even your approbation has not made that author vain; and for
the lay in question, it has so many perils to encounter, that
it never thinks of producing itself.  It peeped out of its
lurking corner once or twice; and one of those times, by the
negligence of a friend, had like to have been, what is often
pretended in prefaces, stolen, and consigned to the press.
When your lordship comes to England, which, for every reason
but that, I hope will be Soon, you shall certainly see it; and
will then allow, I am sure. how improper it would be for the
author to risk its appearance in public.  However, unworthy as
that author may be, from his talents, of your lordship's
favour, do not let its demerits be confounded with the esteem
and attachment with which he has the honour to be, my lord,
your lordship's most devoted servant.

(17) James Caulfield, Earl of Charlemont, an Irish nobleman,
distinguished for his literary taste and patriotism.  Of him
Mr. Burke said, ,He is a man of such polished manners, of a
mind so truly adorned and disposed to the adoption of whatever
is excellent and praiseworthy, that to see and converse with
him would alone induce me, or might induce any one who relishes
such qualities, to pay a visit to Ireland."  He died in 1799,
and in 1810, his Memoirs were published by Francis Hardy, Esq.
in a quarto volume.-E.



Letter 17 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Arlington Street, Nov. 15, 1770. ((page 41)

Dear sir,
If you have not engaged your interest in Cambridgeshire, you
will oblige me much by bestowing it on young Mr. Brand, the son
of my particular acquaintance, and our old schoolfellow.  I am
very unapt to trouble my head about elections, but wish success
to this.

If you see Bannerman, I should be glad you would tell him that
I am going to print the last volume of my Painters, and should
like to employ him again for some of the heads, if he cares to
undertake them: though there will be a little trouble as he
does not reside in London.  I am in a hurry, and am forced to
be brief, but am always glad to hear of you, and from you.
Yours most sincerely.



letter 18 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Arlington Street, Nov. 20, 1770. (page 41)

I believe our letters crossed one another without knowing it.
Mine, it seems, was quite unnecessary, for I find Mr. Brand has
given up the election.  Yours was very kind and obliging, as
they always are.  Pray be so good as to thank Mr. Tyson for me
a thousand times; I am vastly pleased with his work, and hope
he will give me another of the plates for my volume of heads
(for I shall bind up his present), and I by no means relinquish
his promise of a complete set of his etchings, and of a visit
to Strawberry Hill.  Why should it not be with you and Mr.
Essex, whom I shall be very glad to see--but what do you talk
of a single day?  Is that all you allow me in two years?

I rejoice to see Mr. Bentham's advertisement at last.  I depend
on you, dear Sir, for procuring me his book(18) the instant it
is possible to have it.  Pray make my compliments to all that
good family.  I am enraged, and almost in despair, at Pearson
the glass-painter, he is so idle and dissolute.  He has done
very little of the window, though what he has done is glorious,
and approaches very nearly to Price.

My last volume of Painters begins to be printed this week; but,
as the plates are not begun, I doubt it will be long before the
whole is ready.  I mentioned to you in my last Thursday's
letter a hint about Bannerman, the engraver.  Adieu!

(18) The "History and Antiquities of the Conventual and
Cathedral Church at Ely," which appeared in the following
year.-E.



Letter 19 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Arlington Street, Dec. 20, 1770. (page 42)

Dear Sir
I am very zealous, as you know, for the work; but I agree with
you in expecting very little success from the plan.(19)
Activity is the best implement in such undertakings, and that
seems to be wanting; and, without that, it were vain to think
of who would be at the expense.  I do not know whether it were
not best that Mr. Essex should publish his remarks as simply as
he can.  For my own part, I can do no more than I have done,-
-sketch out the plan.  I grow too old, and am grown too
indolent, to engage in any more works: nor have I time.  I wish
to finish some things I have by me, and to have done.  The last
volume of my Anecdotes, of which I was tired, is completed and
with them I shall take my leave of publications.  The last
years of one's life are fit for nothing but idleness and quiet,
and I am as indifferent to fame as to politics.

I can be of as little use to Mr. Granger in recommending him to
the Antiquarian Society.  I dropped my attendance there four or
five years ago, from being sick of their ignorance and
stupidity, and have not been three times amongst them since.
They have chosen to expose their dullness to the world, and
crowned it with Dean Milles's(20) nonsense.  I have written a
little answer to the last, which you shall see, and then wash
my hands of them.

To say the truth, I have no very sanguine expectation about the
Ely window.  The glass-painter, though admirable, proves a very
idle worthless fellow, and has yet scarce done any thing of
consequence.  I gave Dr. Nichols notice of his character, but
found him apprised of it.  The Doctor, however, does not
despair, but pursues him warmly.  I wish it may succeed!

If you go over to Cambridge, be so good as to ask Mr. Grey when
he proposes being in town; he talked of last month.  I must beg
you, too, to thank Mr.  Tyson for his last letter.  I can say
no more to the Plan than I have said.  If he and Mr. Essex
should like to come to town, I shall be very willing to talk it
over with them, but I can by no means think of engaging in any
part of the composition.

These holidays I hope to have time to arrange my drawings, and
give bannerman some employment towards my book, but I am in no
hurry to have it appear, as it speaks of times so recent; for
though I have been very tender of not hurting any living
relations of the artists, the latter were in general so
indifferent, that I doubt their families will not be very well
content with the coldness of the praises I have been able to
bestow.  This reason, with my unwillingness to finish the work,
and the long interval between the composition of this and the
other volumes, have, I doubt, made the greatest part a very
indifferent performance.  An author, like other mechanics,
never does well when he is tired of his profession.

I have been told that, besides Mr. Tyson, there are two other
gentlemen engravers at Cambridge.  I think their names are
Sharp or Show, and Cobbe, but I am not at all sure of either.
I should be glad, however, if I could procure any of their
portraits; and I do not forget that I am already in your debt.
Boydell is going to recommence a suite of illustrious heads,
and I am to give him a list of indubitable portraits of
remarkable persons that have never been engraved; but I have
protested against his receiving two sorts; the one, any old
head of a family, when the person was moderately considerable;
the other, spurious or doubtful heads; both sorts apt to be
sent in by families who wish to crowd -their own names into the
work; as was the case more than once in Houbraken's set, and of
which honest Vertue often complained to me.  The Duke of
Buckingham, Carr, Earl of Somerset, and Thurloe, in that list,
are absolutely not genuine--the first is John Digby Earl of
Bristol.  Yours ever.

(19) Mr.  Essex's projected History of Gothic Architecture.
See vol. iii.  Letter 366 to the Rev. Mr. Cole, Aug. 12,
1769.-E.

(20) Dr. Jeremiah Milles, dean of Exeter, many years president
of the Antiquarian Society.  He engaged ardently in the
Chatterton controversy, and published the whole of the poems
purporting to be written by Rowley, with a glossary; thereby
proving himself a fit subject for that chef-d'oeuvre of wit and
poetry, the Archaeological Epistle, written by Mason.
Walpole's answer is entitled, "Reply to the Observations on the
Remarks of the Rev.  Dr. Milles, Dean of Exeter and President
of the Society of Antiquaries, on the Wardrobe Account of 1483,
etc."  It is inserted in the second volume of his collected
Works-E.



Letter 20 To The Hon. H. S. Conway.
Arlington Street, Christmas-day. (page 43)

If poplar-pines ever grow,(21) it must be in such a soaking
season as this.  I wish you would send half-a-dozen by some
Henley barge to meet me next Saturday at Strawberry Hill, that
they may be as tall as the Monument by next summer.  My
cascades give themselves the airs of cataracts, and Mrs. Clive
looks like the sun rising out of the ocean.  Poor Mr.
Raftor(22) is tired to death of their solitude; and, as his
passion is walking, he talks with rapture of the brave rows of
lamps all along the street, just as I used formerly to think no
trees beautiful without lamps to them, like those at Vauxhall.

As I came to town but to dinner, and have not seen a soul, I do
not KNOW whether there is any news.  I am just going to the
Princess,(23) where I shall hear all there is.  I went to King
Arthur(24) on Saturday, and was tired to death, both of the
nonsense of the piece and the execrable performance, the
singers being still worse than the actors.  The scenes are
little better (though Garrick boasts of rivalling the French
Opera,) except a pretty bridge, and a Gothic church with
windows of painted glass.  This scene, which should be a
barbarous temple of Woden, is a perfect cathedral, and the
devil officiates at a kind of high-mass!  I never saw greater
absurdities.  Adieu!

(21) The first poplar-pine (or, as they have since been called,
Lombardy poplar) planted in England was at Park-place, on the
bank of the river near the great arch.  It was a cutting
brought from Turin by Lord Rochford in his carriage, and
planted by General Conway's own hand.

(22) Brother of Mrs. Clive.  He had been an actor himself, and,
when his sister retired from the stage, lived with her in the
house Mr. Walpole had given her at Twickenham.


(23( The Princess Amelia.

(24) Dryden's dramatic opera of King Arthur, or the British
Worthy, altered by Garrick, was this year brought out at Drury
Lane, and, by the aid of scenery, was very successful.-E.



Letter 21 To The Hon. H. S. Conway.
Arlington Street, Dec. 29, 1770. (page 44)

The trees came safe: I thank you for them: they are gone to
Strawberry, and I am going to plant them.  This paragraph would
not call for a letter, but I have news for you of importance
enough to dignify a despatch.  The Duc de Choiseul is fallen!
The express from Lord Harcourt arrived yesterday morning; the
event happened last Monday night, and the courier set out so
immediately, that not many particulars are yet known.  The Duke
was allowed but three hours to prepare himself, and ordered to
retire to his seat at Chanteloup: but some letters say, "il ira
plus loin."  The Duc de Praslin is banished, too, and Chatelet
is forbidden to visit Choiseul.  Chatelet was to have had the
marine; and I am Sure is no loss to us.  The Chevalier de Muy
is made secretary of state pour la guerre;(25) and it is
concluded that the Duc d'Aiguillon is prime-minister, but was
not named so in the first hurry.  There! there is a revolution!
there is a new scene opened!  Will it advance the war?  Will it
make peace?  These are the questions all mankind is asking.
This whale has swallowed up all gudgeon-questions.  Lord
Harcourt writes, that the d'Aiguillonists had officiously taken
opportunities of assuring him, that if they prevailed it would
be peace; but in this country we know that opponents turned
ministers can change their language It is added, that the
morning of Choiseul's banishment'(26) the King said to him,
"Monsieur, je vous ai dit que je ne voulais point la guerre."
Yet how does this agree with Franc`es's(27) eager protestations
that Choiseul's fate depended on preserving the peace?  How
does it agree with the Comptroller-general's offer of finding
funds for the war, and of Choiseul's proving he could not?--But
how reconcile half the politics one hears?  De Guisnes and
Franc`es sent their excuses to the Duchess of Argyle last
night; and I suppose the Spaniards, too; for none of them were
there.--Well! I shall let all this bustle cool for two days;
for what Englishman does not sacrifice any thing to go his
Saturday out of town?  And yet I am very much interested in
this event; I feel much for Madame de Choiseul, though nothing
for her Corsican husband; but I am in the utmost anxiety for my
dear old friend,(28) who passed every evening with the Duchess,
and was thence in great credit; and what is worse, though
nobody, I think, can be savage enough to take away her pension,
she may find great difficulty to get it paid--and then her poor
heart is so good and warm, that this blow on her friends, at
her great age, may kill her.(29)  I have had no letter, nor had
last post--whether it was stopped, or whether she apprehended
the event, as I imagine--for every one observed, on Tuesday
night, at your brother's, that Franc`es could not open his
mouth.  In short, I am most seriously alarmed about her.

You have seen in the papers the designed arrangements in the
law.(30)  They now say there is some hitch; but I suppose it
turns on some demands, and so will be got over by their being
granted.  Mr. Mason, the bard, gave me yesterday, the enclosed
memorial, and begged I would recommend it to you.  It is in
favour of a very ingenious painter.  Adieu! the sun shines
brightly; but it is one o'clock, and it will be set before I
get to Twickenham.  Yours ever.

(25) The Chevalier, afterwards Mar`echal de Muy, was offered
that place, but declined it.  He eventually filled it in the
early part of the reign of Louis XVI.-E.

(26) The Duc de Choiseul was dismissed from the ministry
through the intrigues of Madame du Barry, who accused him of an
improper correspondence with Spain.-- E.

(27) Then charg`e des affaires from the French court in London.

(28) It appears by Madame du Deffand's Letters to Walpole, that
she had addressed to him, on the 27th of December, one of
considerable length, filled with details relative to the
dismissal of the Duc de Choiseul, which took place on the 24th,
and the appointment of his successor; but this letter is
unfortunately lost.-E.

(29) By the reduction which the Abb`e de Terrai, when he first
entered upon the controle g`en`eral, made upon all pensions,
Madame du Deffand had lost three thousand livres of income.  To
her letter of the 2d of February 1771, announcing this
diminution, Walpole made the following generous reply:--"Je ne
saurois souffrir une telle diminution de votre bien.  O`u
voulez-vous faire des retranchemens?  O`u est-il possible que
vous en fassiez?  Ne daignez pas fire un pas, s'il n'est pas
fait, pour remplacer vos trois Mille livres.  Ayez assez
d'amiti`e pour moi pour les accepter de ma part.  Accordez-moi,
je vous conjure, la gr`ace, que je vous demande aux genoux, et
jouissez de la satisfaction de vous dire, j'ai un ami qui ne
permettra jamais que je me jette aux pieds des grands.  Ma
Petite, j'insiste."-E.

(30) Mr. Bathurst was created Lord Apsley, and appointed Lord
Chancellor; Sir William de Grey was made Chief Justice of the
Common Pleas; Mr. Thurlow, attorney-general and Mr. Wedderburn,
solicitor-general.-E.



Letter 22 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Arlington Street, Jan. 10, 1771. (page 45)

As I am acquainted with Mr. Paul Sandby, the brother of the
architect,(31) I asked him if there was a design, as I had
heard, of making a print or prints of King's College Chapel, by
the King's order'!  He answered directly, by no means.  His
brother made a general sketch of the chapel for the use of the
lectures he reads on architecture at the Royal Academy.  Thus,
dear Sir, Mr. Essex may be perfectly easy that there is no
intention of interfering with his work.  I then mentioned to
Mr. Sandby Mr. Essex's plan, which he much approved, but said
the plates would cost a great sum.  The King, he thought, would
be inclined to patronise the work; but I own I do not know how
to get it laid before him.  His own artists would probably
discourage any scheme that might entrench on their own
advantages.  Mr. Thomas Sandby, the architect, is the only one
of them I am acquainted with; and Mr. Essex must think whether
he would like to let him into any participation of the work.
If I can get any other person to mention it to his Majesty, I
will; but you know me, and that I have always kept clear of
connexions with courts and ministers, and have no interest with
either, and perhaps my recommendation might do as much hurt as
good, especially as the artists in favour might be jealous Of
One who understands a little of their professions, and is apt
to say what he thinks.  In truth, there is another danger,
which is that they might not assist Mr. Essex without views of
profiting of his labours.  I am slightly acquainted with Mr.
Chambers,(32) the architect, and have a good opinion of him: if
Mr. Essex approves my communicating his plan to him or Mr.
Sandby, I should think it more likely to succeed by their
intervention, than by any lord of the court; for, at last, the
King would certainly take the opinion of his artists.  When you
have talked this over with Mr. Essex, let me know the result.
Till he has determined, there can be no use in Mr. Essex's
coming to town.

Mr. Gray will bring down some of my drawings to Bannerman, and
when you go over to Cambridge, I will beg you now and then to
supervise him.  For Mr. Bentham's book, I rather despair of it;
and should it ever appear, he will have had people expect it
too long, which will be of no service to it, though I do not
doubt of its merit.  Mr. Gray will show you my answer to"Dr.
Milles.(33)  Yours ever.

(31) Paul Sandby, the well-known artist in water-colours, was
brother to Thomas Sandby, who was professor of architecture in
the Royal Academy of London.-E.

(32) Afterwards Sir William Chambers, author of the well-known
"Treatise on Civil Architecture;" a "Dissertation on Oriental
Gardening," etc.  In 1775, he was appointed to superintend the
building of Somerset-house, in the Strand.-E.

(33) In the early part of this year, Walpole's house in
Arlington-street was broke open, without his servants being
alarmed; all the locks forced off his drawers, cabinets, etc.
their contents scattered about the rooms, and yet nothing taken
away.  In her letter of the 3d of April, Madame du Deffand
says, "Votre aventure fait tenir ici toute sorte de propos: les
uns disent que l'on vous soup`connait d'avoir une
correspondence secr`ete avec M. de Choiseul.-E.



Letter 23 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Arlington Street, May 29, 1771. (page 46)

Dear Sir,
I have but time to write you a line, that I may not detain Mr.
Essex, who is so good as to take charge of this note, and of a
box, which I am sure will give you pleasure, and I beg may give
you a little trouble.  It contains the very valuable seven
letters of Edward the sixth to Barnaby Fitzpatrick.  Lord
Ossory, to whom they belong, has lent them to me to print, but
to facilitate that, and to prevent their being rubbed or hurt
by the printer, I must entreat your exactness to copy them, and
return them with the copies.  I need not desire your particular
care; for you value these things as much as I do, and will be
able to make them out better than I can do, from being so much
versed in old writing.  Forgive my taking this liberty with
you, which, I flatter myself, will not be disagreeable.  Mr.
Essex and Mr. Tyson dined with me at Strawberry Hill; but could
not stay so long as I wished.  The party would have been still
more agreeable if you had made a fourth.  Adieu! dear Sir,
yours ever.



Letter 24 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Arlington Street, June 11, 1771. (page 47)

You are very kind, dear Sir, and I ought to be, nay, what is
more, I am ashamed of giving you so much trouble; but I am in
no hurry for the letters.  I shall not set out till the 7th of
next month, And it will be sufficient if I receive them a week
before I set out.  Mr. C. C. C. C. is very welcome to attack me
about a Duchess of Norfolk.  He is even welcome to be in the
right; to the edification I hope of all the matrons at the
Antiquarian Society, who I trust will insert his criticism in
the next volume of their Archaeologia, or Old Women's Logic;
but, indeed, I cannot bestow my time on any more of them, nor
employ myself in detecting witches for vomiting pins.  When
they turn extortioners like Mr. Masters,(34) the law should
punish them, not only for roguery, but for exceeding their
province, which our ancestors limited to killing their
neighbour's cow, or crucifying dolls of wax.  For my own part,
I am so far from being out of charity with him, that I would
give him a nag or new broom whenever he has a mind to ride to
the Antiquarian sabbat, and preach against me.  Though you have
more cause to be angry, laugh -,it him as I do.  One has not
life enough to throw away on all the fools and knaves that come
across one.  I have often been attacked, and never replied but
to Mr. Hume and Dr. Milles--to the first, because he had a
name; to the second, because he had a mind to have one:--and
yet I was in the wrong, for it was the only way he could attain
one.  In truth, it is being too self-interested, to expose only
one's private antagonists, when one lets worse men pass
unmolested.  Does a booby hurt me by an attack on me, more than
by any other foolish thing he does?  Does not he tease me more
by any thing he says to me, without attacking me, than by any
thing he says against me behind my back?  I shall, therefore,
most certainly never inquire after or read Mr. C. C. C. C.'s
criticism, but leave him to oblivion with her Grace of Norfolk,
and our wise society.  As I doubt my own writings will soon be
forgotten, I need not fear that those of my answerers will be
remembered.

(34) There is a note on this letter in Cole's handwriting.  Mr.
Mason had informed him, that Mr. Masters had lately read a
paper at the Antiquarian Society against some mistake of Mr.
Walpole's respective a Duchess of Norfolk; and he adds, "This I
informed Mr. Walpole of in my letter, and said something to him
of Masters' extortion in making me pay forty pounds towards the
repairing his vicarage-house at Waterbeche, which he pretended
he had fitted up for my reception."



Letter 25 To The Hon. H. S. Conway.(35)
Strawberry Hill, June 17, 1771. (page 48)

I was very sure you would grant my request, if you could, and I
am perfectly satisfied with your reasons; but I do not believe
the parties concerned will be so too, especially the heads of
the family, who are not so ready to serve their relations at
their own expense as gratis.  When I see you I will tell you
more, and what I thought I had told you.

You tax me with four days in Bedfordshire; I was but three at
most, and of those the evening I went, and the morning I came
away, made the third day.  I will try to see you before I go.
The Edgcumbes I should like and Lady Lyttelton, but Garrick
does not tempt me at all.  I have no taste for his perpetual
buffoonery, and am sick of his endless expectation of flattery;
but you who charge me with making a long visit to Lord and Lady
Ossory,--you do not see the mote in your own eye; at least I am
sure Lady Ailesbury does not see that in hers.  I could not
obtain a single day from her all last year, and with difficulty
got her to give me a few hours this.  There is always an
indispensable pheasantry that must be visited, or some thing
from which she cannot spare four-and-twenty hours.  Strawberry
sets this down in its pocket-book. and resents the neglect.

At two miles from Houghton Park is the mausoleum of the Bruces,
where I saw the most ridiculous monument of one of Lady
Ailesbury's predecessors that ever was imagined; I beg she will
never keep such company.  In the midst of an octagon chapel is
the tomb of Diana, Countess of Oxford and Elgin.  From a huge
unwieldy base of white marble rises a black marble cistern;
literally a cistern that would serve for an eating-room.  In
the midst of this, to the knees, stands her ladyship in a white
domino or shroud, with her left hand erect as giving her
blessing.  It put me in mind of Mrs. Cavendish when she got
drunk in the bathing-tub. At another church is a kind of
catacomb for the Earls of Kent: there are ten sumptuous
monuments.  Wrest and Hawnes are both ugly places; the house at
the former is ridiculously old and bad.  The state bedchamber
(not ten feet high) and its drawing-room, are laced with Ionic
columns of spotted velvet, and friezes of patchwork.  There are
bushels of deplorable earls and countesses.  The garden was
execrable too, but is something mended by Brown.  Houghton Park
and Ampthill stand finely: the last is a very good house, and
has a beautiful park.  The other has three beautiful old
fronts, in the style of Holland House, with turrets and
loggias, but not so large within.  It is the worst contrived
dwelling I ever saw.  Upon the whole, I was much diverted with
my journey.  On my return I stayed but a single hour in London,
saw no soul, and came hither to meet the deluge.  It has rained
all night, and all day; but it is midsummer, consequently
midwinter, and one can expect no better.  Adieu!

(35) Now first printed.



Letter 26 To The Earl Of Strafford.
Strawberry Hill, June 20, 1771. (page 49)

I have waited impatiently, my dear lord, for something worth
putting into a letter but trees do not speak in parliament, nor
flowers write in the newspapers; and they are almost the only
beings I have seen.  I dined on Tuesday at Notting-hill(36)
with the Countesses of Powis and Holderness, Lord and Lady
Pelham, and Lord Frederick Cavendish--and Pam; and shall go to
town on Friday to meet the same company at Lady Holderness's;
and this short journal comprises almost my whole history and
knowledge.

I must now ask your lordship's and Lady Strafford's commands
for Paris.  I shall set out on the 7th of next month.  You will
think, though you will not tell me so, that these are Very
juvenile jaunts at my age.  Indeed, I should be ashamed if I
went for any other pleasure but that of once more seeing my
dear blind friend, whose much greater age forbids my depending
on seeing more often.(37)  It will, indeed, be amusing to
change the scene of politics for though I have done with our
own, one cannot help hearing them--nay, reading them; for, like
flies, they come to breakfast with one's bread and butter.  I
wish there was any other vehicle for them but a newspaper; a
place into which, considering how they are exhausted, I am sure
they have no pretensions.  The Duc d'Aiguillon, I hear, is
minister.  Their politics, some way or other, must end
seriously, either in despotism, a civil war, or assassination.
Methinks, it is playing deep for the power of tyranny.  Charles
Fox is more moderate: he only games for an hundred thousand
pounds that he has not.

Have you read the Life of Benvenuto Cellini,(38) my lord?  I am
angry with him for being more distracted and wrong-headed than
my Lord Herbert.  Till the revival of these two, I thought the
present age had borne the palm of absurdity from all its
predecessors.  But I find our contemporaries are quiet good
folks, that only game till they hang themselves, and do not
kill every body they meet in the street.  Who would have
thought we were so reasonable?

Ranelagh, they tell me, is full of foreign dukes.  There is a
Duc de la Tr`emouille, a Duc d'Aremberg, and other grandees.  I
know the former, and am not sorry to be out of his way.

It is not pleasant to leave groves and lawns and rivers for a
dirty town with a dirtier ditch, calling itself the Seine; but
I dare not encounter the sea and bad inns in cold weather.
This consideration will bring me back by the end of August.  I
should be happy to execute any commission for your lordship.
You know how earnestly I wish always to show myself your
lordship's most faithful humble servant.

(36) near Kensington.  The villa of Lady Mary Coke.

(37) In the February of this-year Madame du Deffand had made
her will, and bequeathed Walpole all her manuscripts-.  In her
letter of the 17th, informing him that she had so done, she
says, "Je fis usage de votre 'j'y consens.'  J'ai une vraie
satisfaction que cette affaire soit termin`ee, et jamais vous
ne m'avez fait un plus v`eritable plaisir qu'en pronon`cant ces
deux mots."-E.

(38) The celebrated Florentine sculptor, "one of the most
extraordinary men in an extraordinary age," so designated by
Walpole.  His Life, written by himself, was first published in
English in 1771, from a translation by Dr. T. Nugent; of which
a new edition, corrected and enlarged, with the notes and
observations of G. P. Carpani, translated by Thomas Roscoe,
appeared in 1822.-E.



Letter 27 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Arlington Street, June 22, 1771. (page 50)

I just write you a line, dear Sir, to acknowledge the receipt
of the box of papers, which is come very safe, and to give you
a thousand thanks for the trouble you have taken.  As you
promise me another letter I will wait to answer it.

At present I will only beg another favour, and with less shame,
as it is of a kind you will like to grant.  I have lately been
at Lord Ossory's at Ampthill.  You know Catherine of Arragon
lived some time there.(39)  Nothing remains of the castle, nor
any marks of residence, but a very small bit of her garden.  I
proposed to Lord Ossory to erect a cross to her memory on the
spot, and he will.  I wish, therefore, you could, from your
collections of books, or memory, pick out an authentic form of
a cross, of a better appearance than the common run.  It must
be raised on two or three steps; and if they were octagon,
would it not be handsomer? Her arms must be hung like an order
upon it.  Here is something of my idea.(40)  The shield
appendant to a collar.  We will have some inscriptions to mark
the cause of erection.  Adieu! Your most obliged.

(39) After her divorce from Henry the Eighth.

(40) A rough sketch in the margin of the letter.



 Letter 28 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Strawberry Hill, June 24, 1771. (page 51)

Dear Sir,
when I wrote to you t'other day, I had not opened the box of
letters, and consequently had not found yours, for which, and
the prints, I give you a thousand thanks; though Count Bryan I
have, and will return to you.  Old Walker(41) is very like, and
is valuable for being mentioned in the Dunciad, and a
curiosity, from being mentioned there without abuse.

Your notes are very judicious,(42) and your information most
useful to me in drawing up some little preface to the Letters;
which, however, I shall not have time now to do before my
journey, as I shall set out on Sunday se'nnight.  I like your
motto much.  The Lady Cecilia's Letters are, as you say, more
curious for the writer than the matter.  We know very little of
those daughters of Edward IV.  Yet she and her sister
Devonshire lived to be old; especially Cecily, who was married
to Lord Wells; and I have found why: he was first cousin to
Henry VII., who, I suppose, thought it the safest match for
her.  I wish I knew all she and her sisters knew of her
brothers, and their uncle Richard III.  Much good may it do my
Lord of Canterbury with his parboiled stag! Sure there must be
more curiosities in Bennet Library!

Though your letter is so entertaining and useful to me, the
passage I like best is a promise you make me of a visit in the
autumn with Mr. Essex.  Pray put him in mind of it, as I shall
you.  It would add much to the obligation if you would bring
two or three of your MS. volumes of collections with you.
Yours ever.

(41) Dr. Richard Walker, vice-master of Trinity College, by
Lambourne.

(42) From King Edward's Journal relating to Mr. Fitzpatrick.



Letter 29 To John Chute, Esq.
Amiens, Tuesday evening, July 9, 1771. (page 51)

I am got no farther yet, as I travel leisurely, and do not
venture to fatigue myself.  My voyage was but of four hours.  I
was sick only by choice and precaution, and find myself in
perfect health.  The enemy, I hope, has not returned to pinch
you again, and that you defy the foul fiend.  The weather is
but lukewarm, and I should choose to have all the windows shut,
if my smelling was not much more summerly than my feeling; but
the frowsiness of obsolete tapestry and needlework is
insupportable.  Here are old fleas and bugs talking of Louis
Quatorze like tattered refugees in the park, and they make poor
Rosette attend them, whether she will or not.  This is a woful
account of an evening in July, and which Monsieur de St.
Lambert has omitted in his Seasons, though more natural than
any thing he has placed there. I f the Grecian religion had
gone into the folly of self-mortification, I suppose the
devotees of Flora would have shut themselves up in a nasty inn,
and have punished their noses for the sensuality of having
smelt to a rose or a honeysuckle.

This is all I have yet to say; for I have had no adventure, no
accident, nor seen a soul but my cousin Richard Walpole, whom I
met on the road and spoke to in his chaise.  To-morrow I shall
lie at Chantilly, and be at Paris early on Thursday.  The
Churchills are there already.  Good night-- and a sweet one to
you!

Paris, Wednesday night, July 10.

I was so suffocated with my inn last night, that I mustered all
my resolution, rose with the alouette this morning, and was in
my chaise by five o'clock I got hither by eight this evening,
tired, but rejoiced; I have had a comfortable dish of tea, and
am going to bed in clean sheets.  I sink myself even to my dear
old woman(43) and my sister; for it is impossible to sit down
and be made charming At this time of night after fifteen posts,
and after having been here twenty times before.

At Chantilly I crossed the Countess of Walpole, who lies there
to-night on her way to England.  But I concluded she had no
curiosity about me-and I could not brag of more about her-and
so we had no intercourse.  I am wobegone to find my Lord F -* *
* in the same hotel.  He is as starched as an old-fashioned
plaited neckcloth, and come to suck wisdom from this curious
school of philosophy.  He reveres me because I was acquainted
with his father; and that does not at all increase my
partiality to the son.

Luckily, the post departs early to-morrow morning I thought you
would like to hear I was arrived -well.  I should be happy to
hear you are so; but do not torment yourself too soon, nor will
I torment you.  I have fixed the 26th of August for setting out
on my return.  These jaunts are too juvenile.  I am ashamed to
look back and remember in what year of Methuselah I was here
first.  Rosette Sends her blessing to her daughter.  Adieu!
Yours ever.

(43) Madame du Deffand; who, in her letter to Walpole of the
12th of June, had said, "Je sens l'exc`es de votre
complaisance; j'ai tant de joie de l'esp`erance de vous revoir
qu'il me semble que rien ne peut plus m'affliger ni
m'attrister."--E.



Letter 30 To The Hon.  H.  S.  Conway.
Paris, July 30, 1771. (page 52)

I do not know where you are, nor where this will find you, nor
when it will set out to seek you, as I am not certain by whom I
shall send it.  It is of little consequence, as I have nothing
material to tell you, but what you probably may have heard.

The distress here is incredible, especially at court.  The
King's tradesmen are ruined, his servants starving, and even
angels and archangels cannot get their pensions and salaries,
but sing, "Woe! woe! woe!" instead of Hosannahs.  Compi`egne is
abandoned; Villiers-coterets and Chantilly(44) crowded, and
Chanteloup(45) still more in fashion, whither every body goes
that pleases; though, when they ask leave, the answer is, "Je
ne le defends ni le permets."  This is the first time that ever
the will of a King of France was interpreted against his
inclination.  Yet, after annihilating his Parliament, and
ruining public credit, he tamely submits to be affronted by his
own servants.  Madame de Beauveau, and two or three
high-spirited dames, defy this Czar of Gaul- Yet they and their
cabal are as inconsistent on the other hand.  They make
epigrams, sing vaudevilles(46) against the mistress, hand about
libels against the Chancellor, and have no more effect than a
sky-rocket; but in three months will die to go to court, and to
be invited to sup with Madame du Barry.  The only real struggle
is between the Chancellor(47) and the Duc d'Aiguillon.  The
first is false, bold, determined, and not subject to little
qualms.  The other is less known, communicates himself to
nobody, is suspected of deep policy and deep designs, but seems
to intend to set out under a mask of very smooth varnish; for
he has just obtained the payment of all his bitter enemy La
Chalotais' pensions and arrears.  He has the advantage, too, of
being but moderately detested in comparison of his rival, and,
what he values more, the interest of the mistress.(48)  The
Comptroller-general serves both, by acting mischief more
sensibly felt; for he ruins every body but those who purchase a
respite from his mistress.(49)  He dispenses bankruptcy by
retail, and will fall, because he cannot even by these means be
useful enough.  They are striking off nine millions la caisse
militaire, five from the marine, and one from the afaires
`etrang`eres: yet all this will not extricate them.  You never
saw a great nation in so disgraceful a position.  Their next
prospect is not better: it rests on an imbecile, both in mind
and body.

July 31.

Mr. Churchill and my sister set out to-night after supper, and
I shall send this letter by them.  There are no new books, no
new Plays, no new novels; nay, no new fashions.  They have
dragged old Mademoiselle Le Maure out of a retreat of thirty
years, to sing at the Colis`ee, which is a most gaudy Ranelagh,
gilt, painted, and becupided like an Opera, but not calculated
to last as long as Mother Coliseum, being composed of chalk and
pasteboard.  Round it are courts of treillage, that serve for
nothing, and behind it a canal, very like a horsepond, on which
there are fireworks and justs.  Altogether it is very pretty;
but as there are few nabobs and nabobesses in this country, and
as the middling and common people are not much richer than Job
when he had lost every thing but his patience, the proprietors
are on the point of being ruined, unless the project takes
place that is talked of.  It is, to oblige Corneille, Racine,
and Moli`ere to hold their tongues twice a-week, that their
audiences may go to the Colis`ee.  This is like our
Parliament's adjourning when senators want to go to Newmarket.
There is a Monsieur Gaillard writing a "History of the
Rivalit`e de la France et de l'Angleterre."(50)  I hope he will
not omit this parallel.

The instance of their poverty that strikes me most, who make
political observations by the thermometer of baubles, is, that
there is nothing new in their shops.  I know the faces of every
snuff-box and every tea-cup as well as those of Madame du Lac
and Monsieur Poirier.  I have chosen some cups and saucers for
my Lady Ailesbury, as she ordered me; but I cannot say they are
at all extraordinary.  I have bespoken two cabriolets for her,
instead of six, because I think them very dear, and that she
may have four more if she likes them.  I shall bring, too, a
sample of a baguette that suits them.  For myself, between
economy and the want of novelty, I have not laid out five
guineas--a very memorable anecdote in the history of my life.
Indeed, the Czarina and I have a little dispute; she has
offered to purchase the whole Crozat collection of pictures, at
which I had intended to ruin myself.  The Turks thank her for
it!  Apropos, they are sending from hence fourscore officers to
Poland, each of whom I suppose, like Almanzor, can stamp with
his foot and raise an army.

 As my sister travels like a Tartar princess with her whole
horde, she will arrive too late almost for me to hear from you
in return to this letter, which in truth requires no answer,
v`u que I shall set out myself on the 26th of August.  You will
not imagine that I am glad to save myself the pleasure of
hearing from you; but I would not give you the trouble of
writing unnecessarily.  If you are at home, and not in
Scotland, you will judge by these dates where to find me.
Adieu!

P. S. Instead of restoring the Jesuits, they are proceeding to
annihilate the Celestines, Augustines, and some other orders.

(44) The country palaces of the Duke of Orleans and the Prince
of Cond`e; who were in disgrace at court for having espoused
the cause of the Parliament of Paris, banished by the
Chancellor Maupeou.

(45) The country seat of the Duc de Choiseul, to which, on his
ceasing to be first minister, he was banished by the King.

(46) The following `echantillon of these vaudevilles was given
by Madame du Deffand to Walpole:--

"L'avez-vous vue, ma Du Barry,
Elle a ravi mon `ame;
Pour elle j'ai perdu l'esprit,
Des Fran`cais j'ai le bl`ame:
Charmants enfans de la Gourdon,
Est-elle chez vous maintenant?
Rendez-la-moi,
Je suis le Roi,
Soulagez mon martyre;
Rendez-la-moi,
Elle est `a moi,
Je suis son pauvre Sire.
Llavez-vous vue, etc.

"Je sais qu'autrefois les laquais
Ont f`et`e ses jeunes attraits;
Que les cochers,
Les peruquiers,
L'aimaient, l'aimaient d'amour ex`eme,
Mais pas autant que je l'aime.
L'avez-vous vue," etc,-E.

(47) Maupeou.

(48) Madame du Barry.'''

(49) The Abb`e Terrai was comptroller-general of the finances.
His mistress, known in the fashionable circles of Paris by the
name of La Sultane, received money, as it was supposed, in
concert with the Abb`e himself, for every act of favour or
justice solicited from the department over which he presided.-E.

(50) In a letter to Walpole, Madame du Deffand thus speaks of
this work:--"Il m'arrive une bonne fortune apr`es laquelle je
soupirais depuis longtemps: c'est un livre qui me plait
infiniment; il est de M. Gaillard; il a Pour titre 'Rivalit`e
de la France et de l'Angleterre;' il est par chapitres, et
chaque chapitre est les `ev`enemens du r`egne d'un Roi de
France et d'un Roi d'Angleterre contemporains.  Il est bien
loin d'`etre fini; il n'en est qu'a Philippe de Valois et
Edouard Trois.  Il n'y a que trois volumes; il y en aura
peut-`etre douze ou quinze."  The work, which was not completed
till the year 1774, extended to eleven Volumes.-E.



Letter 31 To John Chute, Esq.
Paris, August 5, 1771. ((page 55)

It is a great satisfaction to Me to find by your letter of the
30th, that you have had no return of your gout.  I have been
assured here, that the best remedy is to cut one's nails in hot
water.  It is, I fear, as certain as any other remedy!  It
would at least be so here, if their bodies were of a piece with
their understandings; or if both were as curable as they are
the contrary.  Your prophecy, I doubt, is not better founded
than the prescription.  I may be lame; but I shall never be a
duck, nor deal in the garbage of the Alley.  I envy your
Strawberry tide, and need not say how much I wish I was there
to receive you.  Methinks, I should be as glad of a little
grass, as a seaman after a long voyage.  Yet English gardening
gains ground here prodigiously-not much at a time, indeed--I
have literally seen one, that is exactly like a tailor's paper
of patterns.  There is a Monsieur Boutin, who has tacked a
piece of what he calls an English garden to a set of stone
terraces, with steps of turf.  There are three or four very
high hills, almost as high as, and exactly in the shape of, a
tansy pudding.  You squeeze between these and a river, that is
conducted at obtuse angles in a stone channel, and supplied by
a pump, and when walnuts Come in I suppose it will be
navigable.  In a corner enclosed by a chalk wall are the
samples I mentioned: there is a stripe of grass, another of
corn, and a third en friche, exactly in the order of beds in a
nursery.  They have translated Mr. Whately's book,(51) and the
Lord knows what barbarism is going to be laid at our door.
This new anglomanie will literally be mad English.

New arr`ets, new retrenchments, new misery, stalk forth every
day.  The Parliament of Besan`con is dissolved; so are the
grenadiers de France.  The King's tradesmen are all bankrupt;
no pensions are paid, and every body is reforming their suppers
and equipages.  Despotism makes converts faster than ever
Christianity did.  Louis Quinze is the true rex
Ckristianissimus, and has ten times more success than his
dragooning great-grandfather.  Adieu, my dear Sir! Yours most
faithfully.

Friday, 9th.

This was to have gone by a private hand, but cannot depart till
Monday; so I may be continuing my letter till I bring it
myself.  I have been again at the Chartreuse; and though it was
the sixth time, I am more enchanted with those paintings(52)
than ever.  If it is not the first work in the world, and must
yield to the Vatican, yet in simplicity and harmony it beats
Raphael himself.  There is a vapour over all the pictures, that
makes them more natural than any representation of objects-1
cannot conceive bow it is effected! You see them through the
shine of a southeast wind.  These poor folks do not know the
inestimable treasure they possess--but they are perishing these
pictures, and one gazes at them as at a setting sun.  There is
the purity of a Racine in them, but they give me more pleasure-
-and I should much sooner be tired of the poet than of the
painter.

It is very singular that I have not half the satisfaction in
going into C, churches and convents that I used to have.  The
consciousness that the vision is dispelled, the want of fervour
so obvious in the religious, the solitude that one knows
proceeds from contempt, not from contemplation, make those
places appear like abandoned theatres destined to destruction.
The monks trot about as if they had not long to stay there; and
what used to be the holy gloom is now but dirt and darkness.
There is no more deception than in a tragedy acted by
candlesnuffers.  One is sorry to think that an empire of common
sense would not be very picturesque; for, as there is nothing
but taste that can compensate for the imagination of madness, I
doubt there will never be twenty men of taste for twenty
thousand madmen.  The world will no more see Athens, Rome, and
the Medici again, than a succession of five good emperors, like
Nerva, Trajan, Adrian, and the two Antonines.

August 13.

Mr. Edmonson  called on me; and, as he sets on to-morrow, I can
safely trust my letter to him.  I have, I own,, been much
shocked at reading Gray's(53) death in the papers.  'Tis an
hour that makes one forget any subject of complaint, especially
towards one with whom I lived in friendship from thirteen years
old.  As self lies so rooted in self, no doubt the nearness of
our ages made the stroke recoil to my own breast; and having so
little expected his death, it is Plain how little I expect my
own.  Yet to you, who of all men living are the most forgiving,
I need not excuse the concern I feel.  I fear most men ought to
apologize for their want of feeling, instead of palliating that
sensation when they have it.  I thought that what I had seen of
the world had hardened my heart; but I find that it had formed
my language, not extinguished my tenderness.  In short, I am
really shocked--nay, I am hurt at my own weakness, as I
perceive that when I love any body, it is for my life; and I
have had too Much reason not to wish that such a disposition
may very seldom be put to the trial.(54)  You, at least, are
the only person to whom I would venture to make such a
confession.

Adieu! my dear Sir! Let me know when I arrive, which will be
about the last day of the month, when I am likely to see YOU.
I have much to say to you.  Of being here I am most heartily
tired, and nothing but the dear old woman should keep me here
an hour-I am weary of them to death-but that is not new!  Yours
ever.

(51) Entitled "An Essay on Design in Gardening," Mr. Whately
was at this time under-secretary of state, and member for
Castle Rising.  In January, 1772, he was made keeper of the
King's private roads, gates, and bridges, and died in the June
following.-E.

(52) The Life of St.  Bruno, painted by Le Soeur, in the
cloister of the Chartreuse.

(53) On the 24th of July," says Mr. Mitford, "Gray, while at
dinner in the college hall, was seized with an attack of the
gout in his stomach.  The violence of the disease resisted all
the powers of medicine: on the 29th he was seized with
convulsions, which returned more violently on the 30th; and he
expired on the evening of that day, in the fifty-fifth year of
his age." Works, Vol.  i, P.  lvi-E.

(54) "It will appear from this and the two following letters,"
observes Mr. Mitford, "that Walpole's affection and friendship
for Gray was warm and sincere after the reconcilement took
place; and indeed, before that, and immediately after the
quarrel, I believe his regard for Gray was undiminished."
Works, vol.  iv.  p. 2 12-E.



Letter 32 To The Hon.  H.  S.  Conway.
Paris, August 11, 1771. (page 57)

You will have seen, I hope, before now, that I have not
neglected writing to you.  I sent you a letter by my sister,
but doubt she has been a great while upon the road, as they
travel with a large family.  I was not sure where you was, and
would not write at random by the post.

I was just going out when I received yours and the newspapers.
I was struck in a most sensible manner, when, after reading
your letter, I saw in the newspapers that Gray is dead! So very
ancient an intimacy(55) and, I suppose, the natural reflection
to self on losing a person but a year older, made me absolutely
start in my chair.  It seemed more a corporal than a mental
blow; and yet I am exceedingly concerned for him, and every
body must be so for the loss of such a genius.  He called on me
but two or three days before I came hither; he complained of
being ill, and talked of the gout in his stomach--but I
expected his death no more than my own--and yet the same death
will probably be mine.(56)  I am full of all these
reflections-but shall not attrist you with them: only do not
wonder that my letter will be short, when my mind is full of
what I do not give vent to.  It was but last night that I was
thinking how few persons last, if one lives to be old, to whom
one can talk without reserve.  It is impossible to be intimate
with the Young, because they and the old cannot converse on the
same common topics; and of the old that survive, there are few
one can commence a friendship with, because one has probably
all one's life despised their heart or their understandings.
These are the steps through which one passes to the unenviable
lees of life!

I am very sorry for the state of poor Lady Beauchamp.  It
presages ill.  She had a prospect of long happiness.  Opium is
a very false friend.  I will get you Bougainville's book.(57)
I think it is on the Falkland Isles, for it cannot be on those
just discovered; but as I set out to-morrow se'nnight, and
probably may have no opportunity sooner of sending it, I will
bring it myself.  Adieu! Yours ever.

(55) It will b recollected, that General Conway travelled with
Gray and Walpole in 1739, and separated from them at Geneva.-E.

(56) Gray's last letter to Walpole was dated March 17, 1771; it
contained the following striking passage:--"He must have a very
strong stomach that can digest the crambe recocta of Voltaire.
Atheism is a vile dish, though all the cooks of France combine
to make new sauces to it.  As to the soul, perhaps they may
have none on the Continent; but I do think we have such things
in England; Shakspeare, for example, I believe, had several to
his own share.  As to the Jews (though they do not eat pork), I
like them, because they are better Christians than Voltaire."
Works vol.  iv.  p. 190.-E.

(57) An English translation of the book appeared in 1773, under
the title of "History of a Voyage to the Malonine, or Falkland
Islands, made in 1763 and 1764, under the command of M. de
Bougainville; and of two Voyages to the Straits of Magellan,
with an account of the Patagonians; translated from Don
Pernety's Historical Journal, written in French." In the same
year was published a translation of Bougainville's "Voyage
autour du Monde." This celebrated circumnavigator retired from
the service in 1790.  He afterwards was made Count and Senator
by Napoleon Buonaparte, became member of the National Institute
and of the Royal Society of London, and died at Paris in 1811,
at the age of eighty-two.-E.


Letter 33 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Paris, August 12, 1771. (page 53)

I am excessively shocked at reading in the papers that Mr. Gray
is dead! I wish to God you may be able to tell me it is not
true! Yet in this painful uncertainty I must rest some days!
None of my acquaintance are in London--I do not know to whom to
apply but to you--alas! I fear in vain! Too many circumstances
speak it true!--the detail is exact;--a second paper arrived by
the same post, and does not contradict it--and, what is worse,
I saw him but four or five days before I came hither: he had
been to Kensington for the air, complained of the gout flying
about him, of sensations of it in his stomach: I, indeed,
thought him changed, and that he looked ill--still I had not
the least idea of his being in danger--I started up from my
chair when I read the paragraph--a cannon-ball would not have
surprised me more! The shock but ceased, to give way to my
concern; and my hopes are too ill-founded to mitigate it.  If
nobody has the charity to write to me, my anxiety must continue
till the end of the month, for I shall set out on my return on
the 26th; and unless you receive this time enough for your
answer to leave London on the 20th, in the evening, I cannot
meet it till I find it in Arlington-street, whither I beg you
to direct it.

If the event is but too true, pray add to this melancholy
service, that of telling me any circumstance you know of his
death.  Our long, very long friendship, and his genius, must
endear to me every thing that relates to him.  What writings
has he left? Who are his executors?(58)  I should earnestly
wish, if he has destined any thing to the public, to print it
at my press--it would do me honour, and would give me an
opportunity of expressing what I feel for him.  Methinks, as we
grow old, our only business here is to adorn the graves of our
friends, or to dig our own!  Adieu, dear Sir! Yours ever.

P.  S.  I heard this unhappy news but last night; and have just
been told, that Lord Edward Bentinck goes in haste to-morrow to
England; so that you will receive this much sooner than I
expected: still I must desire you to direct to
Arlington-street, as by far the surest conveyance to me.

(58) His executors were, Mason the poet and the Rev. Dr. Brown,
master of Pembroke Hall.  "He hath desired," wrote Dr. Brown to
Dr. Wharton, "to be buried near his mother, at Stoke, near
Windsor, and that one of his executors would see him laid in
the grave; a melancholy task, which must come to my share, for
Mr. Mason is not here." Works, vol. iv. p. 206.-E.


Letter 34 To The Earl Of Strafford.
Paris, August 25, 1771. (page 59)

I have passed my biennial six weeks here, my dear lord, and am
preparing to return as soon as the weather will allow me.  It
is some comfort to the patriot virtue, envy, to find this
climate worse than our own.  There were four very hot days at
the end of last month, which, you know, with us northern people
compose a summer: it has rained half this, and for these three
days there has been a deluge, a storm, and extreme cold.  Yet
these folks shiver in silk, and sit with their Windows open
till supper-time.  Indeed, firing is very dear, and nabobs very
scarce.  Economy and retrenchment are the words in fashion, and
are founded in a little more than caprice.  I have heard no
instance of luxury but in Mademoiselle Guimard, a favourite
dancer, who is building a palace: round the salle `a manger
there are windows that open upon hot-houses, that are to
produce flowers all winter.  That is worthy of * * * * * *.
There is a finer dancer, whom Mr. Hobart is to transplant to
London; a Mademoiselle Heinel or Ingle, a Fleming.(59)  She is
tall, perfectly made, very handsome, and has a set of attitudes
copied from the classics.  She moves as gracefully slow as
Pygmalion's statue when it was Coming to life, and moves her
leg round as imperceptibly as if she was dancing in the zodiac.
But she is not Virgo.

They make no more of breaking parliaments here than an English
mob does of breaking windows.  It is pity people are so
ill-sorted.  If this King and ours could cross over and figure
in, Louis XV.  would dissolve our parliament if Polly Jones did
but say a word to him.  They have got into such a habit of it
here, that you would think a parliament was a polypus: they cut
it in two, and by next morning half of it becomes a whole
assembly.  This has literally been the case at Besan`con.(60)
Lord and Lady Barrymore, who are in the highest favour at
Compiegne, will be able to carry over the receipt.

Everybody feels in their own way.  My grief is to see the
ruinous Condition of the palaces and pictures.  I was yesterday
at the Louvre.  Le Brun's noble gallery, where the battles of
Alexander are, and of which he designed the ceiling, and even
the shutters, bolts, and locks, is in a worse condition than
the old gallery at Somerset-house.  It rains in upon the
pictures, though there are stores of much more valuable pieces
than those of Le Brun.  Heaps of glorious works by Raphael and
all the great masters are piled up and equally neglected at
Versailles.  Their care is not less destructive in private
houses.  The Duke of Orleans' pictures and the Prince of
Monaco's have been cleaned, and varnished so thick that you May
see your face in them; and some of them have been transported
from board to cloth, bit by bit, and the seams filled up with
colour; so that in ten years they will not be worth sixpence.
It makes me as peevish as if I was posterity!  I hope your
lordship's works will last longer than these of Louis XIV.  The
glories of his si`ecle hasten fast to their end, and little
will remain but those of his authors.

(59) "It was at this time," says Dr.  Burney, "that dancing
seemed first to gain the ascendant over music, by the superior
talents of Mademoiselle Heinel, whose grace and execution were
so perfect as to eclipse all other excellence.  Crowds
assembled at the Opera-house, more for the gratification of the
eye than the ear; for neither the invention of a new composer,
nor the talents of new singers, attracted the public to the
theatre, which was almost abandoned till the arrival of this
lady, whose extraordinary merit had an extraordinary
recompense; for, besides the six hundred pounds' salary allowed
her by the Honourable Mr. Hobart, as manager, she was
complimented with a regallo of six hundred more from the
Maccaroni Club.  'E molto particulare,' said Cocchi, the
Composer; 'ma quei Inglesi non fanno conto d'alcuna cosa se non
ben pagata:' It is very extraordinary that the English set no
value upon any thing but what they pay an exorbitant price
for."-E.

(60) The Parliaments of Besan`con, Bourdeaux,
Toulouse and Britany, were, in succession, totally suppressed
by Louis XV.  New courts were assembled in their stead; most of
the former members being sent into banishment.-E.



Letter 35  To The Hon. H. S. Conway.
Arlington Street, Sept. 7, 1771. (page 61)

I arrived yesterday,(61) within an hour or two after you was
gone, which mortified me exceedingly: Lord knows when I shall
see you.  You are so active and so busy, and cast bullets(62)
and build bridges, are pontifex maximus, and, like Sir John
Thorold or Cimon, triumph over land and wave,
that one can never get a word with you.  Yet I am very well
worth a general's or a politician's ear.  I have been deep in
all the secrets of France, and confidant of some of the
principals of both parties.  I know what is, and is to be,
though I am neither priest nor conjuror -and have heard a vast
deal about breaking carabiniers and grenadiers; though, as
usual, I dare say I shall give a woful account of both.  The
worst part is, that by the most horrid oppression and injustice
their finances will very soon be in good order-unless some
bankrupt turns Ravaillac, which will not surprise me.  The
horror the nation has conceived of the King and Chancellor
makes it probable that the latter, at least, will be
sacrificed.  He seems not to be without apprehension, and has
removed from the King's library a MS.  trial of a chancellor
who was condemned to be hanged under Charles VII.  For the
King, qui a fait ses `epreuves, and not to his honour, you will
not wonder that he lives in terrors.

I have executed all Lady Ailesbury's commissions; but mind, I
do not commission you to tell her, for you would certainly
forget it.  As you will, no doubt, come to town to report who
burnt Portsmouth;(63) I will meet you here, if I am apprised of
the day.  Your niece's marriage,(64) pleases me extremely.
Though I never saw him till last night, I know a great deal of
her future husband, and like his character.  His person is much
better than I expected, and far preferable to many of the fine
young moderns.  He is better than Sir Watkin Williams Wynne, at
least as well as the Duke of Devonshire, and Adonis compared to
the charming Mr.  Fitzpatrick.  Adieu!

(61) Mr.  Walpole arrived at Paris on the '10th of July, and
left it on the 2d of September-E.

(62) Mr.  Conway was now at the head of the ordnance, but with
the title and appointments of lieutenant-general only.  The
particular circumstances attending this are thus recorded in a
letter from Mr.  Walpole to another correspondent at the time
(January 1770), and deserve to be known:--"The King offered the
mastership of the ordnance, on Lord Granby's resignation, to
Mr.  Conway, who is only lieutenant-general of it: he said he
had lived in friendship with Lord Granby, and would not profit
by his spoils; but, as he thought he could do some essential
service in the office, where there were many abuses, if his
Majesty would be pleased to let him continue as he is, be would
do the business of the office without accepting the salary."-E.

(63) On the 27th of July, a fire had broken out in the dockyard
at Portsmouth, which, as it might be highly prejudicial to the
country at that period, excited universal alarm.  The loss
sustained by it, which at first was supposed to be half a
million, is said to have been about one hundred and fifty
thousand pounds.-E.

(64) The marriage of Lady Gertrude Seymour Conway to Lord
Villiers, afterwards Earl of Grandison.


Letter 36 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Strawberry Hill, Sept. 10, 1771. (page 62)

However melancholy the occasion is, I can but give you a
thousand thanks, dear Sir-., for the kind trouble you have
taken, and the information you have given me about poor Mr.
Gray.  I received your first letter at Paris; the last I found
at my house in town, where I arrived only on Friday last.  The
circumstance of the professor refusing to rise in the night and
visit him, adds to the shock.  Who is that true professor of
physic?  Jesus! is their absence to murder as well as their
presence?

I have not heard from Mr. Mason, but I have written to him.  Be
so good as to tell the Master at Pembroke,(65) though I have
not the honour of knowing him, how sensible I am of his
proposed attention to me, and how much I feel for him in losing
a friend of so excellent a genius.  Nothing will allay my own
concern like seeing any of his compositions that I have not yet
seen.  It is buying them too dear--but when the author is
irreparably lost, the produce of his Mind is the next best
possession.  I have offered my press to Mr. Mason, and hope it
will be accepted.

Many thanks for the cross, dear Sir; it is precisely what I
wished.  I hope you and Mr. Essex preserve your resolution of
passing a few days here between this and Christmas.  Just at
present I am not My own master, having stepped into the middle
of a sudden match in my own family.  Lord Hertford is going to
marry his third daughter to Lord Villiers, son of Lady
Grandison, the present wife of Sir Charles Montagu.  We are all
felicity, and in a round of dinners.  I am this minute returned
from Beaumont-lodge, at Old Windsor, where Sir Charles
Grandison lives.  I will let you know, if the papers do not,
when our festivities are subsided.

I shall receive with gratitude from Mr. Tyson either drawing or
etching of our departed friend; but wish not to have it
inscribed to me, as it is an honour, more justly due to Mr.
Stonehewer.  If the Master of Pembroke will accept a copy of a
small picture I have of Mr. Gray, painted soon after the
publication of his Ode on Eton, it shall be at his service--and
after his death I beg, it may be bequeathed to his college.
Adieu!

(65) Dr. James Brown. Gray used to call him "le petit bon
homme;" and Cole, in his Athene Cantab, says of him--"He is a
very worthy man, a good scholar, small, and short-sighted." In
the Chatham Correspondence there will be found an interesting
letter from the Master of Pembroke to Lord Chatham, in which he
thus speaks of his illustrious son, the future minister of this
country: " Notwithsanding the illness of your son, I have
myself seen, and have heard enough from his tutors, to be
convinced both of his extraordinary genius and most amiable
disposition.  He promises fair, indeed to be one of those
extraordinary persons whose eminent parts, equalled by as
eminent industry, continue in a progressive state throughout
their lives; such persons appear to be formed by Heaven to
assist and bless mankind." Vol. iv. p. 311.-E.



Letter 37 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Strawberry Hill, Oct. 12, 1771. (page 63)

Dear Sir,
As our wedding will not be so soon as I expected, and as I
should be unwilling You Should take a journey in bad weather, I
wish it may be convenient to you and Mr. Essex to come hither
on the 25th day of this present month.  If one can depend on
any season, it is on the chill suns of October, which, like an
elderly beauty, are less capricious than spring or summer.  Our
old-fashioned October, you know, reached eleven days into
modern November, and I still depend on that reckoning, when I
have a mind to protract the year.

Lord Ossory is charmed with Mr. Essex's cross(66) and wishes
much to consult him on the proportions. Lord Ossory has taken a
small house very near mine; is now, and will be here again,
after Newmarket.  He is determined to erect it at Ampthill, and
I have written the following lines to record the reason:

In days of old here Ampthill's towers were seen;
The mournful refuge of an injured queen.
 Here flowed her pure, but unavailing tears;
Here blinded zeal sustain'd her sinking years.
 Yet Freedom hence-her radiant banners waved,
And love avenged a realm by priests enslaved.
 From Catherine's wrongs a nation's bliss was spread,
And Luther's light from Henry's lawless bed,

I hope the satire on Henry VIII. will make you excuse the
compliment to Luther, Which, like most poetic compliments, does
not come from my heart.  I only like him better than Henry,
Calvin, and the Church of Rome, who were bloody persecutors.
Calvin was an execrable villain, and the worst of all; for he
copied those whom he pretended to correct.  Luther was as
jovial as Wilkes, and served the cause of liberty without
canting.  Yours most sincerely.

(66) Mr. Cole applied to Mr. Essex, who furnished a design for
the cross, which was followed.



Letter 38 To The Rev Mr. Cole.
Strawberry Hill, Oct. 23, 1771. (page 63)

I am sorry, dear Sir, that I cannot say your answer is as
agreeable and entertaining as you flatter me my letter was; but
consider, you are prevented coming to me, and have flying pains
of rheumatism--either were sufficient to spoil your letter.

I am sure of being here till to-morrow se'nnight, the last of
this month; consequently I may hope to see Mr. Essex here on
Monday, Tuesday, or Wednesday next.  After that I cannot answer
for myself, on account of our wedding, which depends on the
return of a courier from Ireland.  If I can command any days
certain in November, I will give you notice: and yet I shall
have a scruple of dragging you so far from home at such a
season.  I will leave it to your option, only begging you to be
assured that I shall always be most happy to see you.

I am making a very curious purchase at Paris, the complete
armour of Francis the First.  It is gilt, in relief, and is
very rich and beautiful.  It comes out of the Crozat
collection.(67)  I am building a small chapel, too, in my
garden, to receive two valuable pieces of antiquity, and which
have been presents singularly lucky for me.  They are the
window from Bexhill, with the portraits of Henry III. and his
Queen, procured for me by Lord Ashburnham.  The other, great
part of the tomb of Capoccio, mentioned in my Anecdotes of
Painting on the subject of the Confessor's shrine, and sent to
me from Rome by Mr. Hamilton, our minister at Naples.  It is
very extraordinary that I should happen to be master of these
curiosities.  After next summer, by which time my castle and
collection will be complete (for if I buy more I must build
another castle for another collection), I propose to form
another catalogue and description, and shall take the liberty
to call on you for your assistance.  In the mean time there is
enough new to divert you at present.

(67) This curiosity was at first estimated at a thousand
crowns, but Madame du Deffand finally purchased it for Walpole
for fifty louis.  "Ce bijou," she says, "me parait un peu cher
et ressemble beaucoup aux casques du Ch`ateau d,Otrante: si
vous persistez `a le d`esirer, je le payerai, je le ferai
encaisser et Partir sur le champ.  C'est certainement une
pi`ece tr`es belle et tr`es rare, mais infiniment ch`ere."-E.




Letter 39 To The Hon. H. S. Conway.
Late Strawberry Hill, Jan. 7, 1772. (page 64)

You have read of my calamity without knowing it, and will pity
me when you do.  I have been blown up; my castle is blown up;
Guy Fawkes has been about my house: and the 5th of November has
fallen on the 6th of January!  In short, nine thousand
powder-mills broke loose yesterday morning on
Hounslow-heath;(68) a whole squadron of them came hither, and
have broken eight of my painted-glass windows; and the north
side of the castle looks as if it had stood a siege.  The two
saints in the hall have suffered martyrdom! they have had their
bodies cut off, and nothing remains but their heads.  The two
next great sufferers are indeed two of the least valuable,
being the passage-windows to the library and great parlour--a
fine pane is demolished in the round-room; and the window by
the gallery is damaged.  Those in the cabinet, and
Holbein-room, and gallery, and blue-room, and green-closet,
etc. have escaped.  As the storm came from the northwest, the
china-closet was not touched, nor a cup fell down.  The
bow-window of brave old coloured glass, at Mr. Hindley's, is
massacred; and all the north sides of Twickenham and Brentford
are shattered.  At London it was proclaimed an earthquake, and
half the inhabitants ran into the street.

As lieutenant-general of the ordnance, I must beseech you to
give strict order that no more powder-mills may blow up.  My
aunt, Mrs. Kerwood, reading one day in the papers that a
distiller's had been burnt by the head of the still flying off,
said, she wondered they did not make an act of parliament
against the heads of stills flying off.  Now, I hold it much
easier for you to do a body this service; and would recommend
to your consideration whether it would not be prudent to have
all magazines of powder kept under water till they are wanted
for service.  In the mean time, I expect a pension to make me
amends for what I have suffered under the government.  Adieu!
Yours.

(68) Three powder-mills blew up on Hounslow-heath, on the 6th
of January, when such was the violence of the explosion that it
was felt not only in the metropolis, but as far as Gloucester,
and was very generally mistaken for the shock of an
earthquake.-E.



Letter 40 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Arlington Street, Jan. 28, 1772. (page 65)


It is long indeed, dear Sir, since we corresponded. I should
not have been silent if I had had any thing worth telling you
in your way: but I grow such an antiquity myself, that I think
I am less fond of what remains of our predecessors.

I thank you for Bannerman's proposal; I mean, for taking the
trouble to send it, for I am not at all disposed to subscribe.
I thank you more for the note on King Edward; I mean, too, for
your friendship in thinking of me.  Of Dean Milles I cannot
trouble myself to think any more.  His piece is at Strawberry:
perhaps I may look at it for the sake of your note.  The bad
weather keeps me in town, and a good deal at home; which I find
very comfortable, literally practising what so many persons
pretend they intend, being quiet and enjoying my fireside in my
elderly days.

Mr. Mason has shown me the relics of poor Mr. Gray.  I am sadly
disappointed at finding them so very inconsiderable.  He always
persisted, when I inquired about his writings, that he had
nothing by him.  I own I doubted.  I am grieved he was so very
near exact--I speak of my own satisfaction; as to his genius,
what he published during his life will establish his fame as
long as our language lasts, and there is a man of genius left.
There is a silly fellow, I do not know who, that has published
a volume of Letters on the English Nation, With characters of
our modern authors.  He has talked such nonsense On Mr. Gray,
that I have no patience with the compliments he has paid me.
He must have an excellent taste; and gives me a woful opinion
of my own trifles, when he likes them, and cannot see the
beauties of a poet that ought to be ranked in the first line.
I am more humbled by any applause in the present age, than by
hosts of such critics as Dean Milles.  Is not Garrick reckoned
a tolerable author, though he has proved how little sense is
necessary to form a great actor'? His Cymon, his prologues and
epilogues, and forty such pieces of trash, are below
mediocrity, and yet delight the mob in the boxes as well as in
the footman's gallery.  I do not mention the things written in
his praise; because he writes most Of them himself! But you
know any one popular merit can confer all merit.  Two women
talking Of Wilkes, one said he squinted--t'other replied,
"Squints!--well, if he does, it is not more than a man should
squint." For my part, I can see how extremely well Garrick
acts, without thinking him six feet high.  It is said
Shakspeare was a bad actor; why do not his divine plays make
our wise judges conclude that he was a good one?  They have not
a proof of the contrary, as they have in Garrick's works--but
what is it to you or me what he is?  We may see him act with
pleasure, and nothing obliges us to read his writings.(69)

(69) The best defence of Garrick against the charges which
Walpole so repeatedly brings against him will be found in the
estimation in which he was held by the most distinguished of
his contemporaries.  His friend Dr. Johnson thought well of'
his talent in prologue writing: "Dryden," he said, "has written
prologues superior to any that David has written; but David has
written more good prologues than Dryden has done.  It is
wonderful that he has been able to write such variety of them.
A true conception of character and natural expression of it,
were his distinguished excellences; but I thought him less to
be envied on the stage than at the head of a table.  He was the
first man in the world for sprightly conversation."-E.



Letter 41 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Arlington Street, June 9, 1772. (page 66)

Dear sir,
The preceding paper(70) was given me by a gentleman, who has a
better opinion of my bookhood than I deserve.  I could give him
no satisfaction, but told him, I would get inquiry made at
Cambridge for the pieces he wants.  If you can give any
assistance in this chase, I am sure you will: as it will be
trouble enough, I will not make my letter longer.

(70) This letter enclosed some queries from a gentleman abroad,
respecting books, etc. relating to the order of Malta.



Letter 42 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Strawberry Hill, June 17, 1772. (page 66)

Dear sir,
You are a mine that answers beyond those of Peru.  I have given
the treasure you sent me to the gentleman from whom I had the
queries.  He is vastly obliged to you, and I am sure so am I,
for the trouble you have given yourself"and, therefore I am
going to give you more.  King Edward's Letters are printed.(71)
Shall I keep them for you or send them, and how?  I intend you
four copies--shall you want more? Lord Ossory takes a hundred,
and I have as many; but none will be sold.

I am out of materials for my press. I am thinking of printing
some numbers of miscellaneous MSS. from my own and Mr. Gray's
collection.  If you have any among your stores that are
historic, new and curious, and like to have them printed, I
shall be glad of them.  Among Gray's are letters of Sir Thomas
Wyat the elder.(72)  I am sure you must have a thousand hints
about him.  If you will send them to me I will do you justice;
as you will see I have in King Edward's Letters.  Do you know
any thing of his son,(73) the insurgent, in Queen Mary's reign?

I do not know whether it was not to Payne the bookseller, but I
am sure I gave somebody a very few notes to the British
Topography.  They were indeed of very little consequence.

I have got to-day, and am reading with entertainment, two vols.
in octavo, the Lives of Leland, Hearne, and Antony Wood.,(74)
I do not know the author, but he is of Oxford.  I think you
should add that of your friend Brown Willis.(75)  There is a
queer piece on Freemasonry in one of the volumes, said to be
written, on very slender authority, by Henry VI. with notes by
Mr. Locke: a very odd conjunction! It says that Arts were
brought from the East by Peter Gower.  As I am sure you will
not find an account of this singular person in all your
collections, be it known to you, that Peter Gower was commonly
called Pythagoras.  I remember our newspapers insisting that
Thomas Kouli Khan was an Irishman, and that his true name was
Thomas Callaghan.

On reading over my letter, I find I am no sceptic, having
affirmed no less than four times, that I am sure.  Though this
is extremely awkward, I am sure I will not write my letter over
again; so pray excuse or burn my tautology.

P. S. I had like to have forgotten the most obliging, and to me
the most interesting part of your letter-your kind offer of
coming hither.  I accept it most gladly; but, for reasons I
will tell you, wish it may be deferred a little.  I am going to
Park-place (General Conway's), then to Ampthill (Lord
Ossory's), and then to Goodwood (Duke of Richmond's); and the
beginning of August to Wentworth Castle (Marquis of
Rockingham's); so that I shall not be at all settled here till
the end of the latter month.  But I have a stronger reason.  By
that time will be finished a delightful chapel I am building in
my garden, to contain the shrine of Capoccio, and the Window
with Henry III. and his Queen.  My new bedchamber will be
finished too, which is now all in litter: and, besides,
September is a quiet month; visits to make or receive are over,
and the troublesome go to shoot partridges.  If that time suits
you, pray assure me I shall see you on the first of September.

(71) "Copies of seven original Letters from King Edward VI. to
Barnaby Fitzpatrick." Strawberry Hill, 1772.-E.

(72) He was the contemporary and friend of Surrey, and was
accused by Henry VIII. of being the paramour of Anne Boleyn;
but the King's suspicion dying away, he was appointed, in 1537,
Henry's ambassador to the Emperor.  His poems have recently
been published in the Aldine edition of the Poets; and in the
Biographical Preface to them are included some of his admirable
letters.-E.

(73) Sir Thomas Wyatt "the younger," son of the preceding, who
is presumed to have received that designation from having been
knighted in the lifetime of his father.  Having joined in the
effort to place Lady Jane Grey on the throne, he was condemned
and executed for high treason, on the 11th of April 1554.-E.

(74) The editor was W. Huddersford, fellow of Trinity
College.-E.

(74) Browne Willis, the antiquary, and author of "A Survey of
the Cathedrals of England;" "Notitia Parliamentaria," etc.  He
was born at Blandford in 1682, and died in February 1760. Dr.
Ducarel printed privately, immediately after his death, a small
quarto pamphlet, entitled " Some Account Of Browne Willis, Esq.
LL. D."  One of Willis's peculiarities was his fondness for
visiting cathedrals on the saints, days to which they were
dedicated.-E.



Letter 43 To The Hon. H. S. Conway.
Strawberry Hill, Monday, June 22, 1772. (page 68)

It is lucky that I have had no dealings with Mr. Fordyce;(75)
for, if he had ruined me, as he has half the world, I could not
have run away.  I tired myself with walking on Friday: the gout
came on Saturday in my foot; yesterday I kept my bed till four
o'clock, and my room all day-but, with wrapping myself all over
with bootikins, have scarce had any pain-my foot swelled
immediately, and today I am descended into the blueth and
greenth:(76) and though you expect to find that I am paving the
way to an excuse, I think I shall be able to be with you on
Saturday.  All I intend to excuse myself from, is walking.  I
should certainly never have the gout, if I had lost the use of
my feet.  Cherubims that have no legs, and do nothing but stick
their chins in a cloud and sing, are never out of order.
Exercise is the worst thing in the world, and as bad an
invention as gunpowder.

Apropos to Mr. Fordyce, here is a passage ridiculously
applicable to him, that I met with yesterday in the letters of
Guy Patin: "Il n'y a pas long-temps qu'un auditeur des comptes
nomm`e Mons. Nivelle fit banqueroute; et tout fra`ichement,
c'est-`a-dire depuis trois jours, un tr`esorier des parties
casuelles, nomm`e SanSon, en a fait autant; et pour vous
montrer qu'il est vrai que res humanae faciunt circulum, comme
il a `et`e autrefois dit par Plato et par Aristote, celui-l`a
s'en retourne d'o`u il vient.  Il est fils d'un paysan; il a
`et`e laquais de son premier m`etier, et aujourd'hui il n'est
plus rien, si non qu'il lui reste une assez belle femme."--I do
not think I can find in Patin or Plato, nay, nor in Aristotle,
though he wrote about every thing, a parallel case to Charles
Fox:(77) there are advertised to be sold more annuities of his
and his society, to the amount of five hundred thousand pounds
a-year!  I wonder what he will do next, when he has sold the
estates of all his friends!

I have been reading the most delightful book in the world, the
Lives of Leland, Tom earne, and Antony Wood.  The last's diary
makes a thick volume in octavo.  One entry is, "This day Old
Joan began to make my bed."  In the story of Leland is an
examination of a freemason, written by the hand of King Henry
VI., with notes by Mr. Locke.  Freemasonry, Henry VI., and
Locke, make a strange heterogeneous olio; but that is not all.
The respondent, who defends the mystery of masonry, says it was
brought into Europe by the Venetians--he means the Phoenicians.
And who do you think propagated it? Why, one Peter Gore--And
who do you think that was?--One Pythagoras, Pythagore.  I do
not know whether it is not still More extraordinary, that this
and the rest of the nonsense in that account made Mr. Locke
determine to be a freemason: so would I too, if I could expect
to hear of more Peter Gores.

Pray tell Lady Lyttelton that I say she will certainly kill
herself if she lets Lady Ailesbury drag her twice a-day to feed
the pheasants, and you make her climb cliffs and clamber over
mountains.  She has a tractability that alarms me for her; and
if she does not pluck up a spirit, and determine never to be
put out of her own way, I do not know what may be the
Consequence.  I will come and set her an example of
immovability.  Take notice, I do not say one civil syllable to
Lady Ailesbury.  She has not passed a whole day here these two
years.  She is always very gracious, says she will come when
you will fix a time, as if you governed, and then puts it off
whenever it is proposed, nor will spare one Single day from
Park-place-as if other people were not as partial to their own
Park-places, Adieu! Yours ever.

Tuesday noon.

I wrote my letter last night; this morning I received yours,
and shall wait till Sunday, as you bid me, which will be more
convenient for my gout, though not for other engagements, but I
shall obey the superior, as nullum tempus occurrit regi et
podagrae.

(75) The greatest consternation prevailed at this time in the
metropolis, in consequence of the banking-house of Neale,
James, Fordyce, and Down having stopped payment.  Fordyce was
bred a hosier in Aberdeen.  For a memoir of him, see Gent. Mag.
vol. x1ii. p. 310.-E.

(76) Cant words of Walpole for blue and green. He means, that
he came out of his room to the blue sky and green fields.

(77) Gibbon, in a letter to Mr. Holroyd, of the 8th of
February, in reference to the recent debate in the House of
Commons, on the clerical petition for relief from subscription
to the Thirty-nine Articles, says--"I congratulate you on the
late victory of our dear Mamma, the Church of England. She had,
last Thursday, seventy-one rebellious sons, Who pretended to
set aside her will, on a account of insanity; but two hundred
and seventeen worthy champions, headed by Lord North, Burke,
Charles Fox, etc., though they allowed the thirty-nine clauses
of her testament were absurd and unreasonable, supported the
validity of it with infinite honour.  By the bye, Charles Fox
prepared himself for that holy work by passing twenty-one hours
in the pious exercise of hazard; his devotions cost him only
about five hundred pounds an hour, in all, eleven thousand
pounds."-E.



Letter 44 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Strawberry Hill, July 7, 1772. (page 70)

Dear Sir,
I sent you last week by the Cambridge Fly, that puts up in
Gray's-inn-lane, six copies of King Edward's Letters, but fear
I forgot to direct their being left at Mr. Bentham's, by which
neglect perhaps you have not yet got them; so that I have been
very blamable, while I thought I was very expeditious; and it
was not till reading your letter again just now that I
discovered my carelessness.

I have not heard of Dr. Glynn, etc., but the housekeeper has
orders to receive them.  I thank you a thousand times for the
Maltese notes, which I have given to the gentleman, and for the
Wyattiana: I am going to work on the latter.

I have not yet seen Mr. 's print, but am glad it is so like.  I
expected Mr. Mason would have sent me one early; but I suppose
he keeps it for me, as I shall call on him in my way to Lord
Strafford's.

Mr. West,(78) one of our brother antiquaries, is dead.  He had
a very curious collection of old pictures, English coins,
English prints, and manuscripts.  But he was so rich, that I
take for granted nothing will be sold.  I could wish for his
family pictures of Henry V. and Henry VIII.

Foote, in his new comedy of The Nabob, has lashed Master Doctor
Miles and our Society very deservedly for the nonsensical
discussion they had this winter about Whittington and his Cat.
Few of them are fit for any thing better than such researches.
Poor Mr. Granger has been very ill, but is almost recovered.  I
intend to invite him to meet you in September.  It is a party I
shall be very impatient for: you know how sincerely I am, dear
Sir, your obliged and Obedient humble servant.

(78) James West, Esq.  He was for some time one of the
secretaries of the treasury, vice president of the Society of
Antiquaries, and president of the Royal Society.  His curious
collection of manuscripts were purchased by the Earl of
Shelburne, and are now deposited in the British Museum.-E.




Letter 45 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Strawberry Hill, July 28, 1772. (page 70)

Dear Sir,
I am anew obliged to you, as I am perpetually, for the notice
you give me of another intended publication against me in the
Archaeologia, or Old Woman's Logic.  By Your account, the
author will add much credit to their Society! For my part, I
shall take no notice of any of his handycrafts.  However, as
there seems to be a willingness to carp at me, and as gnats may
on a sudden provoke one to give a slap, I choose to be at
liberty to say what I think Of the learned Society; and
therefore I have taken leave of them, having so good an
occasion presented as their council on Whittington and his Cat,
and the ridicule that Foote has thrown on them.  They are
welcome to say any thing on my writings, but that they are the
works of a fellow of so foolish a Society.

I am at work on the Life of Sir Thomas Wyat, but it does not
please me; nor will it be entertaining, though you have
contributed so many materials towards it.  You must take one
trouble more it is to inquire and search for a book that I want
to see.  It is the Pilgrim; was written by William Thomas, who
was executed in Queen Mary's time; but the book was printed
under, and dedicated to, Edward VI.  I have only an imperfect
memorandum of it, and cannot possibly recall to mind from
whence I made it.  All I think I remember is, that the book was
in the King's library.  I have sent to the Museum to inquire
after it; but I cannot find it mentioned in Ames's History of
English Printers.  Be so good as to ask all your antiquarian
friends if they know such a work.

Amidst all your kindness, you have added one very disagreeable
paragraph:--I mean, you doubt about coming here in September.
Fear of a sore throat would be a reason for your never coming.
It is one of the distempers in the world the least to be
foreseen, and September, a dry month, one of the least likely
months to bring it.  I do not like your recurring to so very
ill-founded an excuse, and positively will not accept it,
unless you wish I should not be so much as I an, dear Sir, Your
most faithful humble servant,
H. W.



Letter 46 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Strawberry Hill, Aug. 25, 1772. (page 71)

Dear sir,
I thank YOU for your notices, dear Sir, and will deliver you
from the trouble of any further pursuit of the Peleryne of
Thomas.  I have discovered him among the Cottonian MSS. in the
Museum, and am to see him.

If Dr. Browne is returned to Cambridge, may I beg you to give
him a thousand thanks for the present he left at my house, a
goarstone and a seal, that belonged to Mr. Gray.  I shall lay
them up in my cabinet at Strawberry among my most valuables.
Dr. Browne, however, was not quite kind to me; for he left no
direction where to find him in town, so that I could not wait
upon him, nor invite him to Strawberry Hill, as I much wished
to do, Do not these words, "invite him to Strawberry," make
Your ears tingle?  September is at hand, and You must have no
sore throat.  The new chapel in the garden is almost finished,
and you must come to the dedication.

I have seen Lincoln and York, and to say the truth, prefer the
former in some respects.  In truth, I was scandalized in the
latter.  William of Hatfield's tomb and figure is thrown aside
into a hole: and yet the chapter possess an estate that his
mother gave them.  I have charged Mr. Mason(79) with my
anathema, unless they do justice.  I saw Roche Abbey, too;
which is hid in such a venerable chasm, that you might lie
concealed there even from a 'squire parson of the parish.  Lord
Scarborough, to whom it belongs, and who lives at next door,
neglects it as much as if he was afraid of ghosts.  I believe
Montesino's cave lay in just such a solemn thicket, which is
now so overgrown, that, when one finds the spot, one can scarce
find the ruins.

I forgot to tell you, that in the screen of York Minster there
are most curious statues of the Kings of England, from the
Conqueror to Henry VI.; very singular, evidently by two
different hands, the one better than the other, and most of
them I am persuaded, very authentic.  Richard II., Henry III.,
and Henry V., I am sure are; and Henry Iv., though unlike the
common portrait at Hampton-court, in Herefordshire, the most
singular and villanous countenance I ever saw.  I intend to try
to get them well engraved.  That old fool, James I., is crowded
in, in the place of Henry VII., that was taken away to make
room for this piece of flattery; for the chapter did not slight
live princes.  Yours ever.

(79) Mason was a residentiary of York cathedral; as well as
prebendary of Duffield, and rector of Aston.-E.



Letter 47 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Strawberry Hill, August 28, 1772. (page 72)

Dear Sir,
Your repentance is much more agreeable than your sin, and will
cancel it whenever you please.  Still I have a fellow-feeling
for the indolence of age, and have myself been writing an
excuse this instant for not accepting an invitation above
threescore miles off.  One's limbs, when they grow old, will
not go any where, when they do not like it.  If yours should
find themselves in a more pliant humour, you are always sure of
being welcome here, let the fit of motion come when it will.

Pray what is become of that figure you mention of Henry VII.,
which the destroyers, not the builders have rejected? and which
the antiquaries, who know a man by his crown better than by his
face, have rejected likewise? The latter put me in mind of
characters in comedies, in which a woman disguised in man's
habit, and whose features her very lover does not know, is
immediately acknowledged by pulling off her hat, and letting
down her hair, which her lover had never seen before.  I should
be glad to ask Dr. Milles, if he thinks the crown of England
was always made, like a quart pot, by Winchester measure?  If
Mr. Tyson has made a print from that little statue, I trust he
will give me one; and if he, or Mr. Essex, or both, will
accompany you hither, I shall be glad to see them.

At Buckden, in the Bishop's palace, I saw a print of Mrs.
Newcome: I Suppose the late mistress of St. John's.  Can you
tell me where I can procure one?  Mind, I insist that you do
not serve me as you have often done, and send me your own, if
you have one.  I seriously will not accept it, nor ever trust
you again.  On the staircase, in the same palace, there is a
picture of two young men, in the manner of Vandyck, not at all
ill done; do you know who they are, or does any body? There is
a worse picture, in a large room, of some lads, which, too, the
housemaid did not know.  Adieu! dear Sir, yours ever.



Letter 48To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Strawberry Hill, Nov. 7, 1772. (page 73)

Dear Sir,
I did receive the print of Mrs. Newcome, for which I am
extremely obliged to you, with a thousand other favours, and
should certainly have thanked you for it long ago, but I was
then, an(I am now, confined to my bed with the gout in every
limb, and in almost every joint.  I have not been out of my
bedchamber these five weeks to-day and last night the pain
returned violently into one of my feet; so that I am now
writing to you in a most uneasy posture, which will oblige me
to be very short.

Your letter, which I suppose was left at my house in Arlington
street by Mr. Essex, was brought to me this morning.  I am
exceedingly sorry for his disappointment, and for his coming
without writing first; in which case I might have prevented his
journey.  I do not know, even, whither to send to him, to tell
him how impossible it is for me just now, in my present painful
and hopeless situation, to be of any use to him.  I am so weak
and faint, I do not see even my nearest relations, and God
knows how long it will be before I am able to bear company,
much less application.  I have some thoughts, as soon as I am
able, of removing to Bath; so that I cannot guess when it will
be in my power to consider duly Mr. Essex's plan with him.  I
shall undoubtedly, if ever capable of it, be ready to give him
my advice, such as it is; or to look over his papers, and even
to correct them, if his modesty thinks me more able to polish
them than he is himself.  At the same time, I must own, I think
he will run too great a risk by the expense.  The engravers in
London are now arrived at such a pitch of exorbitant
imposition, that, for my own part, I have laid aside all
thoughts of having a single plate more done.

Dear Sir, pray tell Mr. Essex how concerned I am for his
mischance, and for the total impossibility I am under of seeing
him now.  I can write no More, but I shall be glad to hear from
you on his return to Cambridge: and when I am recovered, you
may be assured how glad I shall be to talk his plan over with
him.  I am his and Your obliged humble servant.



Letter 49 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
(page 74)

I have had a relapse, and not been able to use my hand, or I
should have lamented with you on the plunder of your prints by
that Algerine hog.(80) I pity you, dear Sir, and feel for your
awkwardness, that was struck dumb at his rapaciousness.  The
beast has no sort of taste neither-and in a twelvemonth will
sell them again.  I regret particularly one print, which I dare
to say he seized, that I gave you, Gertrude More; I thought I
had another, and had not; and, as you liked it, I never told
you so.  This Muley Moloch used to buy books, and now sells
them.  He has hurt his fortune, and ruined himself, to have a
Collection, without any choice of what it should be composed.
It is the most underbred swine I ever saw; but I did not know
it was so ravenous.  I wish you may get paid any how; you see
by my writing how difficult it is to me, and therefore will
excuse my being short.

(80) This letter may want some explanation.  A gentleman, a
collector of prints, and a neighbour of Mr. Walpole's, had just
before requested to see Mr. Cole's collection, and on Mr.
Cole's offering to accommodate him with such heads as he had
not, he selected and took away no less than one hundred and
eighty-seven of the most rare and valuable.




Letter 50 To The Countess Of Ailesbury.
Arlington Street, Dec. 20, 1772. (page 74)

Indeed, Madam, I want you and Mr. Conway in town.  Christmas has
dispersed all my company, and left nothing but a loo-party or
two.  If all the fine days were not gone out of town, too, I
should take the air in a morning; but I am not yet nimble enough,
like old Mrs. Nugent, to jump out of a postchaise into an
assembly.

You have a woful taste, my lady, not to like Lord Gower's bonmot.
I am almost too indignant to tell you of a most amusing book in
six volumes, called "Histoire Philosophique et Politique du
commerce des Deux Indes."(81)  It tells one every thing in the
world;--how to make conquests, invasions, blunders, settlements,
bankruptcies, fortunes, etc.; tells you the natural and
historical history of all nations; talks commerce, navigation,
tea, coffee, china, mines, salt, spices; of the Portuguese,
English, French, Dutch, Danes, Spaniards, Arabs, caravans,
Persians, Indians, of Louis XIV. and the King of Prussia; of La
Bourdonnais, Dupleix, and Admiral Saunders; of rice, and women
that dance naked; of camels, ginghams, and muslin; of millions of
millions of livres, pounds, rupees, and cowries; of iron cables,
and Circassian women; of Law and the Mississippi; and against all
governments and religions.  This and every thing else is in the
two first volumes.  I cannot conceive what is left for the four
others.  And all is so mixed, that you learn forty new trades and
fifty new histories in a single chapter. There is spirit, wit,
and clearness and, if there were but less avoirdupois weight in
it, it would be the richest book in the world in materials--but
figures to me are so many ciphers, and only put me in mind of
children that say, an hundred hundred hundred millions.  However,
it has made me learned enough to talk about Mr. Sykes and the
Secret Committee,(82) which is all that any body talks of at
present, and yet Mademoiselle Heinel(83) is arrived.  This is all
I know, and a great deal too, considering I know nothing, and
yet, were there either truth or lies, I should know them; for one
hears every thing in a sick room.  Good night both!

(81) By the Abb`e Raynal.  sensible of the faults of his work,
the Abb`e visited England and Holland to obtain correct
mercantile information, and, on his return, published an improved
edition at Geneva, in ten volumes, octavo.  Hannah More relates,
that, when in England, the Abb`e was introduced to Dr. Johnson,
and advancing to shake his band, the Doctor drew back and put it
behind him, and afterwards replied to the expostulation of a
friend--"Sir, I will not shake hands with an infidel."  The
Parliament of Paris ordered the work to be burnt, and the author
to be arrested; but he retired to Spain, and, in 1788, the
National Assembly cancelled the decree passed against him.  He
died at Passy in 1794, at the age of eighty-five.-E.

(82) Upon indian affairs.

(83) See ante, p. 59, letter 34.



Letter 51 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Arlington Street, Jan. 8, 1773. (page 75)

In return to your very kind inquiries, dear Sir, I can let you
know, that I am quite free from pain, and walk a little about
my room, even without a stick: nay, have been four times to
take the air in the park.  Indeed, after fourteen weeks this is
not saying much; but it is a worse reflection, that when one is
subject to the gout, and far from young, one's worst account
will probably be better than that after the next fit.  I
neither flatter myself on one hand, nor am impatient on the
other--for will either do one any good? one must bear one's lot
whatever it be.

I rejoice Mr. * * * * has justice,(84) though he had no bowels.
How Gertrude More escape' him I do not guess.  It will be wrong
to rob you of her, after she has come to you through so many
hazards--nor would I hear of it either, if you have a mind to
keep her, or have not given up all thoughts of a collection
since you have been visited by a Visigoth.

I am much more impatient to see Mr. Gray's print, than Mr.
What-d'ye-call-him's answer to my Historic Doubts.(85)  He may
have made himself very angry; but I doubt whether he will make
me at all so.  I love antiquities; but I scarce ever knew an
antiquary who knew how to write upon them.  Their
understandings seem as much in ruins as the things they
describe.  For the Antiquarian Society, I shall leave them in
peace with Whittington and his Cat.  As my contempt for them
has not, however, made me disgusted with what they do not
understand, antiquities, I have published two numbers of
Miscellanies, and they are very welcome to mumble them with
their toothless gums.  I want to send you these--not their
gums, but my pieces, and a Grammont,(86) of which I have
printed only a hundred copies, and which will be extremely
scarce, as twenty-five copies are gone to France.  Tell me how
I shall convey them safely.

Another thing you must tell me, if you can, is, if you know any
thing ancient of the Freemasons Governor Pownall,(87) a
Whittingtonian, has a mind they should have been a corporation
erected by the popes.  As you see what a good creature I am,
and return good for evil, I am engaged to pick up what I can
for him, to support this system, in which I believe no more
than in the pope: and the work is to appear in a volume of the
Society's pieces.  I am very willing to oblige him, and turn my
cheek, that they may smite that, also.  Lord help them! I am
sorry that they are such numsculls, that they almost make me
think myself something! but there are great authors enough to
bring me to my senses again.  Posterity, I fear, will class me
with the writers of this age, or forget me with them, not rank
me with any names that deserve remembrance.  If I cannot
survive the Milles's, the What-d'ye-call-him's, and the
compilers of catalogues of topography, it would comfort me very
little to confute them.  I should be as little proud of success
as if I had carried a contest for churchwarden.

Not being able to return to Strawberry Hill, where all my books
and papers are, and my printer lying fallow, I want some short
bills to print.  Have you any thing you wish printed? I can
either print a few to amuse ourselves, or, if very curious, and
not too dry, could make a third number of Miscellaneous
Antiquities.

I am not in any eagerness to see Mr. What-d'ye-call-him's
pamphlet against me; therefore pray give yourself no trouble to
get it for me.  The specimens I have seen of his writing take
off all edge from curiosity.  A print of Mr. Gray will be a
real present.  Would it not be dreadful to be commended by an
age that had not taste enough to admire his Odes?  Is not it
too great a compliment to me to be abused too?  I am ashamed!
Indeed our antiquaries ought to like me.  I am but too much on
a par with them.  Does not
Mr. Henshaw come to London?  Is he a professor, or only a lover
of engraving? If the former, and he were to settle in town, I
would willingly lend him heads to copy.  Adieu!

(84) The gentleman who had carried off so many of Mr.
Cole's prints.  He now fully remunerated Mr. Cole in a valuable
present of books.

(85) Mr. Master's pamphlet, printed at the expense of the
Antiquarian Society in the second volume of the Archaeologia.

(86) "M`emoires du Comte de Grammont, nouvelle edition,
augment`ee de Notes et Eclaircissemens n`ecessaires, par M.
Horace Walpole." Strawberry Hill, 1772, 4to.  To the M`emoires
was prefixed the following dedication to Madame du Deffand:--
"L'Editeur VOUS Consacre cette edition, comme un monument de
son amiti`e, de son admiration, et de son respect, a vous dont
les gr`aces, l'esprit, et le gout retracent an si`ecle present
le si`ecle de Louis XIV., et les agr`emens de l'auteur de ces
Memoires."

(87) Thomas Pownall, Esq.  the antiquary, and a constant
contributor to the Archaeologia.  Having been governor of South
Carolina and other American colonies, he was always
distinguished from his brother John, who was likewise an
antiquary, by the title of Governor.-E.



Letter 52 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Arlington Street, Feb. 18, 1773. (page 77)

The most agreeable ingredient of your last, dear Sir, is the
paragraph that tells me you shall be in town in April, when I
depend on the pleasure of seeing you; but, to be certain, wish
you would give me a few days' law, an let me know, too, where
you lodge.  Pray bring your books, though the continuation of the
Miscellaneous Antiquities is uncertain.  I thought the
affectation of loving veteran anecdotes was so vigorous, that I
ventured to print five hundred copies., One, hundred and thirty
only are sold.  I cannot afford to make the town perpetual
presents; though I find people exceedingly eager to obtain them
when I do; and if they will not buy them, it is a sign of such
indifference, that I shall neither bestow my time, nor my cost,
to no purpose.  All I desire is, to pay the expenses, which I can
afford much less than my idle moments.  Not but the operations
of-my press have often turned against myself in many shapes.  I
have told people many things they did not know, and from fashion
they have bought a thousand things out of my hands, which they do
not understand, and only love en passant.  At Mr. West's sale,
I got literally nothing: his prints sold for the frantic sum of
1495 pounds 10 shillings.  Your and my good friend Mr. Gulston
threw away above 200 pounds there.

I am not sorry Mr.  Lort has recourse to the fountainhead: Mr.
Pownall's system of Freemasonry is so absurd and groundless,
that I am glad to be rid of intervention.  I have seen the
former once: he told Me he was willing to sell his prints, as
the value of them is so increased--for that very reason I did
not want to purchase them.

Paul Sanby promised me ten days ago to show Mr. Henshaw's
engraving which I received from Dr. Ewen) to Bartolozzi, and
ask his terms, thinking he would delight in So Very promising a
scholar; but I have heard nothing since, and therefore fear
there is no success.  Let me, however, see the young man when
he comes, and I will try if there is any other way of serving
him.

What shall I say to you, dear Sir, about Dr. Prescot? or what I
say to him?  It hurts me not to be very civil, especially as
any respect to my father's memory touches me much more than any
attention to myself, which I cannot hold to be a quarter so
well founded.  Yet, how dare I write to a poor man, who may do,
as I have lately seen done by a Scotchwoman that wrote a
play,(88) and printed Lord Chesterfield's and Lord Lyttelton's
letters to her, as Testimonia fluctorum: I will therefore beg
you to make my compliments and thanks to the master, and to
make them as grateful as you please, provided I am dispensed
with giving any certificate under my hand.  You may plead my
illness, which, though the fifth month ended yesterday, is far
from being at an end, My relapses have been endless - I cannot
yet walk a step: and a great cold has added an ague in my
cheek, for which I am just going to begin the bark.  The
prospect for the rest of my days is gloomy.  The case of my
poor nephew still more deplorable - he arrived in town last
night, and bore his Journey tolerably-but his head is in much
more danger of not recovering than his health; though they give
us hopes of both.  But the evils of life are not good subjects
for letters--why afflict one's friends?  Why make commonplace
reflections?  Adieu! Yours ever.

(88) "Sir Harry Gaylove; or, Comedy in Embryo;" by Mrs. Jane
Marshall.  It was printed in Scotland by subscription, but not
acted.  in the preface, she complains bitterly of the managers
of the three London theatres, for refusing her the advantages
of representing her performance.-E.



Letter 53 To The Rev. William Mason.(89)
March 2, 1773. (page 78)

What shall I say? How shall I thank you for the kind manner in
which you submit your papers to my correction?  But if you are
friendly, I must be just.  I am so far from being dissatisfied,
that I Must beg to shorten your pen, and in that respect only
would I wish, with regard to myself, to alter your text.  I am
conscious that in the beginning of the differences between Gray
and me, the fault was mine.  I was young, too fond of my own
diversions; nay, I do not doubt, too much intoxicated by
indulgence, vanity, and the insolence of my situation, as a
prime minister's Son, not to have been inattentive to the
feelings of one, I blush to say, that I knew was obliged to me;
of one, whom presumption and folly made me deem not very
superior in parts, though I have since felt my infinite
inferiority to him.  I treated him insolently.  He loved me,
and I did not think he did.  I reproached him with the
difference between us, when he acted from the conviction of
knowing that he was my superior.  I often disregarded his wish
of seeing places, which I would not quit my own amusements to
visit, though I offered to send him thither without me.
Forgive me, if I say that his temper was not conciliating, at
the same time that I confess to you, that he acted a most
friendly part had I had the sense to take advantage of it.  He
freely told me my faults.  I declared I did not desire to hear
them, nor would correct them.  You will not wonder,, that with
the dignity of his spirit, and the obstinate carelessness of
mine the breach must have widened till we became incompatible.

After this confession, I fear you will think I fall short in
the words I wish to have substituted for some of yours.  If you
think them inadequate to the state of the case, as I own they
are, preserve this letter and let some future Sir John
Dalrymple produce it to load my memory; but I own I do not
desire that any ambiguity should aid his invention to forge an
account) for me.  If you would have no objection, I would
propose your narrative should run thus, [Here follows a note,
which is inserted verbatim in Mason's Life of Gray.(90)] and
contain no more, till a more proper time shall come for
publishing the truth, as I have stated it to you.  While I am
living, it is not pleasant to see my private disagreements
discussed in magazines and newspapers.

(89) This and the following letter are from Mr. mitford's
valuable edition of Gray's Works.  See vol. iv. pp. 216, 218.-
E.

(90) "In justice to the memory of so respectable a friend, Mr.
Walpole enjoins me to charge himself with the chief blame in
their quarrel - confessing that more attention and
complaisance, more deference to a warm friendship, superior
judgment and prudence, might have prevented a rupture that gave
such uneasiness to them both and a lasting concern
to the survivor; though, in the year 1744, a reconciliation was
effected between them, by a lady who wished well to both
parties."-E.



Letter 54 To The Rev. William Mason.
Strawberry Hill, March 27, 1773. (page 79)

I have received your letter, dear Sir, your manuscript, and
Gray's letters to me.  Twenty things crowd upon my pen, and
jostle, and press to be laid.  As I came here to-day for a
little air, and to read you undisturbed, they shall all have a
place in due time.  But having so safe a conveyance for my
thoughts, I must begin with the uppermost of them, the Heroic
Epistle.  I have read it so very often, that I have got it by
heart; and now I am master of all its beauties, I confess I
like it infinitely better than I did, though I liked it
infinitely before.  There is more wit, ten times more delicacy
of irony, as much poetry, and greater facility than and as in
the Dunciad.  But what Signifies what I think? All the world
thinks the same.  No soul has, I have heard, guessed within an
hundred miles.  I catched at Anstey's name, and have,
contributed to spread that notion.  It has since been called
Temple Luttrell's, and, to my infinite honour, mine; Lord -----
- swears he should think so, if I did not praise it so
excessively.  But now, my dear Sir, that you have tapped this
mine of talent, and it runs so richly and easily, for Heaven's
sake, and for England's sake, do not let it rest! You have a
vein of irony, and satire, etc.

I am extremely pleased with the easy unaffected simplicity of
your manuscript (Memoirs of Gray), and have found scarcely any
thing I could wish added, much less retrenched, unless the
paragraph on Lord Bute,(91) which I don't think quite clearly
expressed; and yet perhaps too clearly, while you wish to
remain unknown as the author of the Heroic Epistle,(92) since
it might lead to suspicion.  For as Gray asked for the place,
and accepted it afterwards from the Duke of Grafton, it might
be thought that he, or his friend for him, was angry with the
author of the disappointment.  I can add nothing to your
account of Gray's going abroad with me.  It was my own thought
and offer, and cheerfully accepted.  Thank you for inserting my
alteration.  As I am the survivor, any Softening would be
unjust to the dead.  I am sorry I had a fault towards him.  It
does not wound me to own it; and it must be believed when I
allow it, that not he, but I myself, was in the wrong.

(91) This paragraph was suppressed-E.

(92) In March, 1798, Mr. Matthias suggested, in the Pursuits of
Literature, that Walpole's papers would possibly lead to the
discovery of the author of the far-famed Heroic Epistle to Sir
William Chambers.  By Thomas Warton, the poet-laureate, it was
supposed to have been "written by Walpole, and buckrum'd by
Mason;" and Mr. Croker, in a note to his edition of Boswell's
Johnson, says of it, "there can be no doubt that it was the
joint production of Mason and Walpole; Mason supplying the
poetry and Walpole the points;" while the Quarterly Review,
vol. xv. p. 385, observes, that "when it is remembered that no
one then alive, with the same peculiar taste and the same
political principles, could have written such poetry, we must
either ascribe the Heroic Epistle to Mr. Mason, or suppose,
very needlessly and improbably, that one person supplied the
matter and another shaped it into verse; but, the personal
insolence displayed in this poem to his Sovereign, which was
probably the true reason for concealing the writer's -the
principles of genuine taste which abound in it--the bitter and
sarcastic strain of indignation against a monstrous mode of bad
taste then beginning to prevail in landscape gardening, and,
above all, a vigorous flow of spirited and harmonious verse,
all concur to mark it as the work of our independent and
uncourtly bard," The above letter settles the long-disputed
point, and fixes the sole authorship of this exquisite poem on
Mason.-E.



Letter 55 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
 Arlington Street, April 7, 1773. (page 80)

I have now seen the second volume of the Archaeologia, or Old
Woman's Logic, with Mr. Masters's Answer to me.  If he had not
taken such pains to declare it was written against my Doubts, I
should have thought it a defence of them; for the few facts he
quotes make for my arguments, and confute himself; particularly
in the case of Lady Eleanor Butler; -whom, by the way, he makes
marry her own nephew, and not descend from her own family,
because she was descended from her grandfather.

This Mr. Masters is an excellent Sancho Panza to such a Don
Quixote as Dean Milles! but enough of such goosecaps! Pray
thank Mr. Ashby for his admirable correction of Sir Thomas
Wyat's bon-mot.  It is right beyond all doubt, and I will quote
it if ever the piece is reprinted.

Mr. Tyson surprises me by usurping your Dissertation.  It seems
all is fish that comes to the net of the Society- Mercy on us!
What a cart-load of brick and rubbish, and Roman ruins, they
have piled together!  I have found nothing-, tolerable in the
volume but the Dissertation of Mr Masters; which is followed by
an answer, that, like Masters, contradicts him, without
disproving any thing.

Mr. West's books are selling outrageously.  His family will
make a fortune by what he collected from stalls and Moorfields.
But I must not blame the virtuosi, having surpassed them.  In
short I have bought his two pictures of Henry V. and Henry
VIII. and their families; the first of which is engraved in my
Anecdotes, or, as the catalogue says, engraved by Mr. H.
Walpole, and the second described there.  The first cost me 38
pounds and the last 84, though I knew Mr. West bought it for
six guineas.  But, in fact, these two, with my Marriages of
Henry VI. and VII., compose such a suite of the House of
Lancaster, and enrich my Gothic house so completely, that I
would not deny myself.  The Henry VII. cost me as much, and is
less curious: the price of antiquities is so exceedingly risen,
too, at present, that I expected to have paid more.  I have
bought much cheaper at the same sale, a picture of Henry VIII.
and Charles V. in one piece, both much younger than I ever saw
any portrait of either.  I hope your pilgrimage to St.
Gulaston's this month will take place, and that you will come
and see them.  Adieu!



Letter 56 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Arlington Street, April 27, 1773. (page 81)                  '

I had not time this morning to answer your letter by Mr. Essex,
but I gave him the card you desired.  You know, I hope, how
happy I am to obey any orders of yours.

In the paper I showed you in answer to Masters, you saw I was
apprised of Rastel's Chronicle: but pray do not mention my
knowing of it; because I draw so much from it, that I lie in
wait, hoping that Milles, or Masters, or some of their fools,
will produce it against me; and then I shall have another word
to say to them, which they do not expect, since they think
Rastel makes for them.

Mr. Gough(93) wants to be introduced to me!  Indeed! I would
see him, as he has been midwife to Masters; but he is so dull,
that he would only be troublesome--and besides you know I shun
authors, and would never have been One myself, if it obliged me
to keep such bad company.  They are always in earnest, and
think their profession serious, and dwell upon trifles, and
reverence learning.  I laugh at all those things, and write
only to laugh at them, and divert myself.  None of us are
authors of any consequence; and it is the most ridiculous in
all vanities to be vain of being mediocre.  A page in a great
author humbles me to the dust; and the conversation of those
that are not superior to myself, reminds me of what will be
thought of myself.  I blush to flatter them, or to be flattered
by them, and should dread letters being published some time or
other, in which they should relate our interviews, and we
should appear like those puny conceited Witlings in Shenstone's
and Hughes' Correspondence,(94) who give themselves airs from
being in possession of the soil of Parnassus for the time
being; as peers are proud, because they enjoy the estates of
great men who went before them.  Mr. Gough is very welcome to
see Strawberry Hill; or I would help him to any scraps in my
possession, that would assist his publications; though he is
one of those industrious who are only reburying the dead-but I
cannot be acquainted with him.  It is contrary to my system,
and my humour; and, besides, I know nothing of barrows, and
Danish entrenchments, and Saxon barbarisms, and Phoenician
characters--in short, I know nothing of those ages that knew
nothing--then how should I be of use to modern literati?  All
the Scotch metaphysicians have sent me their works.  I did not
read one of them, because I do not understand what is not
understood by those that write about it; and I did not get
acquainted with one of the writers.  I should like to be
intimate with Mr. Anstey,(95) even though he wrote Lord
Buckhorse, or with the author of the Heroic Epistle.(96)  I
have no thirst to know the rest of my contemporaries, from the
absurd bombast of Dr. Johnson down to the silly Dr. Goldsmith;
though the latter changeling has had bright gleams of parts,
and the former had sense, 'till he charged it for words, and
sold it for a pension.  Don't think me scornful.  Recollect
that I have seen Pope, and lived with Gray.  Adieu!  Yours
ever.

P. S.  Mr. Essex has shown me a charming drawing, from a
charming round window at Lincoln.  It has revived all my
eagerness to have him continue his plan.

(93) Richard Gough, Esq., author of the British Topography, and
the Sepulchral Monuments of Great Britain; and editor of
Camden's Britannia.  This learned antiquary was born in 1735,
and died in the year 1809-E.

(94) A second edition had just appeared of "Letters by several
eminent Persons deceased; including the Correspondence of John
Hughes, Esq, and several of His Friends."-E.

(95) The author of the New Bath Guide.  See vol. iii., letter
307 to George Montagu, Esq., June 20 1766.-E.

(96) See ante, letter 54, P. 80.-E.



Letter 57 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Arlington Street, May 4, 1773. (page 82)

I should not have hurried to answer your letter, dear Sir, the
moment I receive it, but to send you another ticket(97) for
your sister, in case she should not have recovered the other;
and I think you said she was to stay but a fortnight in town.
I would have sent it to her, had I known whither: and I have
made it for five persons, in case she should have a mind to
carry so many.

I am sorry for the young engraver; but I can by no means meddle
with his going abroad, without the father's consent.  it would
be very wrong, and would hurt the young man essentially, if the
father has any thing to leave. , In any case, I certainly would
not be accessory to sending away the son against the father's
will.  The father is an impertinent fool--but that you
and I cannot help.

Pray be not uneasy about Gertrude More: I shall get the
original or, at least, a copy.  Tell me how I shall Send you
martagons by the safest conveyance, or any thing else you want.
I am always in your debt; and the apostle-spoon will make the
debtor side in my book of gratitude run over.

Your public orator has done me too much honour by far--
especially as he named me with my father,(98) to whom I am so
infinitely inferior, both in parts and virtues.  Though I have
been abused undeservedly, I feel I have more title to censure
than praise, and -will subscribe to the former sooner than to
the latter.  Would not it be prudent to look upon the encomium
as a funeral oration, and consider Myself as dead?  I have
always dreaded outliving myself, and writing after what small
talents I have should be decayed.  Except the last volume of
the Anecdotes of Painting, which has been finished and printed
so long, and which, appear when they may, will still come too
late for many reasons.  I am disposed never to publish any more
of my own self; but I do not say so positively, lest my
breaking my intention should be but another folly.  The gout
has, however, made me so indolent and inactive, that if my head
does not inform me how old I grow, at least my mind and my feet
will--and can one have too many monitors of one's weakness!

I am sorry you think yourself so much inconvenienced by
stirring from home. ' This is an incommodity by which your
friends will suffer more than yourself, and nobody more,
sensibly than yours, etc.

(97) Of admission to Strawberry.

(98) On presenting a relation of Mr. Walpole's to the
Vice-chancellor for his honorary degree.



Letter 58 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Arlington Street, May 29, 1773. (page 83)

Dear Sir,
I have been so much taken up of late with poor Lord Orford's
affairs, I have not had, and scarce have now, time to write you
a line, and thank you for all your kindnesses, information, and
apostle -spoon.  I have not Newcomb's Repertorium, and shall be
obliged to you for the transcript; not as doubting, but to
confirm what Heaven, King Edward I., and the Bishop of the
Tartars have deposed in favour of Malibrunus, the Jew painter's
abilities.  I should sooner have suspected that Mr. Masters
would have produced such witnesses to condemn Richard III.  The
note relating to Lady Boteler does not relate to her marriage.

I send you two martagon roots, and some jonquils; and have
added some prints, two enamelled Pictures, and three medals.
One of Oliver, by Simon; a fine one of Pope Clement X., and a
scarce one of Archbishop Sancroft and the Seven Bishops.  I
hope the two latter will atone for the first.  As I shall never
be out of your debt, pray draw on me for any more other roots,
or any thing that will be agreeable to you, and excuse me at
present.



Letter 59 To Dr. Berkenhout.(99)
July 6, 1773, (page 84)

Sir,
I am so much engaged in private business at present, that I
have not had time to thank you for the favour of your letter:
nor can I now answer it to your satisfaction.  My life has been
too insignificant to afford materials interesting to the
public.  In general, the lives of mere authors are dry and
unentertaining; nor, though I -have been one occasionally, are
my writings of a class or merit to entitle me to any
distinction.  I can as little furnish you, Sir, with a list of
them or their dates, which would give me more trouble to make
out than is worth while.  If I have any merit with the public,
it is for printing and preserving some valuable works of
others; and if ever you write the lives of printers, I may be
enrolled in the number.  My own works, I suppose, are dead and
buried; but, as I am not impatient to be interred with them, I
hope you will leave that office to the parson of the parish,
and I shall be, as long as I live, yours, etc.

(99) Dr. John Berkenhout had been a captain both in the English
and Prussian service, and in 1765 took his degree of MD. at
Leyden.  his application to Walpole was for the purpose of
procuring materials for a life of him In his forthcoming work,
"Biographia Literaria, or a Biographical History of Literature;
containing the Lives of English, Irish, and Scottish Authors,
from the dawn of Letters in these Kingdoms to the present
Time." The first volume, which treats of those writers who
lived from the beginning of the fifth to the end of the sixth
century, and which is the only one ever published, appeared in
1777.  He died in 1791-E.



Letter 60 To The Hon. H. S. Conway.
Arlington Street, Aug. 30, 1773. (page 84)

I returned last night from Houghton,(100) where multiplicity of
business detained me four days longer than I intended, and
where I found a scene infinitely more mortifying than I
expected; though I certainly did not go with a prospect of
finding a land flowing with milk and honey.  Except the
pictures, which are in the finest preservation, and the woods,
which are become forests, all the rest is ruin, desolation,
confusion, disorder, debts, mortgages, sales, pillage, villany,
waste, folly, and madness.  I do not believe that five thousand
pounds would put the house and buildings into good repair.  The
nettles and brambles in the park are up to your shoulders;
horses have been turned into the garden, and banditti lodged in
every cottage.  The perpetuity of livings that come up to the
park-pales have been sold--and every farm let for half its
value.  In short, you know how much family pride I have, and
consequently may judge how much I have been mortified! Nor do I
tell you half, or near the worst circumstances.  I have just
stopped the torrent-and that is all.  I am very uncertain
whether I must not fling up the trust; and some of the
difficulties in my way seem unsurmountable, and too dangerous
not to alarm even my zeal; since I must not ruin myself, and
hurt those for whom I must feel, too, only to restore a family
that will end with myself, and to retrieve an estate' from
which I am not likely ever to receive the least advantage.

if you will settle with the Churchills your journey to
Chalfont, and will let me know the day, I will endeavour to
meet you there; I hope it Will not be till next week.  I am
overwhelmed with business--but, indeed, I know not when I shall
be otherwise! I wish you joy of this endless summer.

(100) Whither he had gone during the mental alienation of his
nephew, George Earl of Orford, to endeavour to settle and
arrange his affairs.



Letter 61 To The Earl Of Strafford.
Strawberry Hill, Sept. 24, 1773. (page 85)

The multiplicity of business which I found chalked out to me by
my journey to Houghton, has engaged me so much, my dear lord,
and the unpleasant scene opened to me there struck me so
deeply, that I have neither had time nor cheerfulness enough to
flatter myself I could amuse my friends by my letters.  Except
the pictures, I found every thing worse than I expected, and
the prospect almost too bad to give me courage to pursue what I
am doing.  I am totally ignorant of most of the branches of
business that are fallen to my lot, and not young enough to
learn any new business well.  All I can hope is to clear the
worst part of the way; for, in undertaking to retrieve an
estate, the beginning is certainly the most difficult of the
work--it is fathoming a chaos.  But I will not unfold a
confusion to your lordship which your good sense will always
keep You from experiencing --very unfashionably; for the first
geniuses of the age hold, that the best method of governing the
world is to throw it into disorder.  The experiment is not yet
complete, as the rearrangement is still to come.

I am very seriously glad of the birth of your nephew,(101)
my lord; I am going this evening with my gratulations'; but
have been so much absent and so hurried, that I have not yet
had the pleasure of seeing

Lady Anne,(102) though I have called twice.  To Gunnersbury I
have no summons this summer: I receive such honours, or the
want of them, with proper respect.  Lady Mary Coke, I fear, is
in chace of a Dulcineus that she will never meet.  When the
ardour of peregrination is a little abated, will not she
probably give in to a more comfortable pursuit; and, like a
print I have seen of -the blessed martyr Charles the First,
abandon the hunt of a corruptible for that of an incorruptible
crown?  There is another beatific print just published in that
style: it is of Lady Huntingdon.  With much pompous humility,
she looks like an old basket-woman trampling on her coronet at
the mouth of a cavern.-Poor Whitfield! if he was forced to do
the honours of the spelunca!--Saint Fanny Shirley is nearer
consecration.  I was told two days ago that she had written a
letter to Lady Selina that was not intelligible.  Her grace of
Kingston's glory approaches to consummation in a more worldly
style.  The Duke(103) is dying, and has given her the whole
estate, seventeen thousand a-year.  I am told she has already
notified the contents of the will, and made offers of the sale
of Thoresby.  Pious matrons have various ways of expressing
decency.

Your lordship's new bow-window thrives.  I do not want it to
remind me of its master and mistress, to whom I am ever the
most devoted humble servant.

(101) A son of John Earl of Buckingham, who died young.

(102) Lady Anne Conolly.

(103) The Duke of Kingston died on the 22d of September, when
all his honours became extinct.-E.



Letter 62 To The Earl Of Strafford.
Arlington Street, Nov. 15, 1773. (page 86)

I am very sorry, my dear lord, that you are coming towards us
so slowly and unwillingly.  I cannot quite wonder at the
latter.  The world is an old acquaintance that does not improve
upon one's hands: however, one must not give way to the
disgusts it creates.  My maxim, and practice, too, is to laugh,
because I do not like to cry.  I could shed a pailfull of tears
over all I have seen and learnt Since my poor nephew's
misfortune-the more one has to do with men the worse one finds
them But can one mend them? No.  Shall we shut ourselves up
from them? No.  We should grow humourists-and of all animals an
Englishman is least made to live alone.  For my part, I am
conscious of so many faults, that I think I grow better the
more bad I see in my neighbours; and there are so many I would
not resemble, that it makes me watchful over myself You, my
lord, who have forty more good qualities than I have, should
not seclude yourself.  I do not wonder you despise knaves and
fools: but remember, they want better examples; they will never
grow ashamed by conversing with one another.

I came to settle here on Friday, being drowned out of
Twickenham.  I find the town desolate, and no news in it, but
that the ministry give up the Irish -tax-some say, because it
will not pass in Ireland; others, because the city of London
would have petitioned against it; and some, because there were
factions in the council-- which is not the most incredible of
all.  I am glad, for the sake of some of my friends who would
have suffered by it, that it is over.(104) In other respects, I
have too much private business of my own to think about the
public, which is big enough to take care of itself.

I have heard some of Lady Mary Coke's mortifications.  I have
regard and esteem for her good qualities, which are many; but I
doubt her genius will never suffer her to be quite happy.  As
she will not take the psalmist's advice of not putting trust, I
am sure she would not follow mine; for, with all her piety,
King David is the only royal person she will not listen to, and
therefore I forbear my sweet counsel.  When she and Lord
Huntingdon meet, will not they put you in mind of Count-Gage
and Lady Mary Herbert, who met in the mines of Asturias, after
they had failed of the crown of Poland?(105)  Adieu, my dear
lord! Come you and my lady among us.  You have some friends
that are not odious, and who will be rejoiced to see you both-
-witness, for one, yours most faithfully.

(104) A tax upon absentees.  Mr. Hardy, in his Memoirs of Lord
Charlemont, says, that the influence of the Whig leaders
predominated so far as to oblige the ministers to relinquish
the measure.-E.

(105) "The crown of Poland, venal twice an age,
To just three millions stint;ed modest Gage."

Pope in a note to the above couplet, states that Mr. Gage and
Lady Mary Herbert, " each of them, in the Mississippi scheme,
despised to realize above three hundred thousand pounds: the
gentleman with a view to the purchase of the crown of Poland,
the lady on a vision of the like royal nature: they have since
retired into Spain, where they are still in search of gold, in
the mines of the Asturias."-E.



Letter 63 To Lady Mary Coke.(106)
((page 87)

Your ladyship's illustrious exploits are the constant theme of
my meditations.  Your expeditions are so rapid, and to such
distant regions, that I cannot help thinking you are possessed
of the giant's boots that stepped seven leagues at a stride, as
we are assured by that accurate historian Mother Goose.  You
are, I know, Madam', an excellent walker, yet methinks seven
leagues at once are a prodigious straddle for a fair lady.  But
whatever is your manner of travelling, few heroines ancient or
modern can be compared to you for length of journeys.
Thalestris, Queen of the Amazons, and M. M. or N. N. Queen of
Sheba, went each of them the Lord knows how far to meet
Alexander the Great and Solomon the Wise; the one to beg the
favour of having a daughter (I suppose) and heiress by him; and
the other, says scandal, to grant a like favour to the Hebrew
monarch.  Your ladyship, who has more real Amazonian
principles, never makes visits but to empresses, queens, and
princesses; and your country is enriched with the maxims of
wisdom and virtue which you collect in your travels.  For such
great ends did Herodotus, Pythagoras, and other sages, make
voyages to Egypt, and every distant kingdom; and it is amazing
how much their own countries were benefited by what those
philosophers learned in their peregrinations.  Were it not that
your ladyship is actuated by such public spirit, I could Put
YOU in mind, Madam, of an old story that might save you a great
deal of fatigue and danger-and now I think of it, as I have
nothing better to fill my letter with, I will relate it to you.

Pyrrhus, the martial and magnanimous King of Epirus (as my Lord
Lyttelton would call him), being, as I have heard or seen
Goodman Plutarch say, intent on his preparations for invading
Italy, Cineas, one of the grooms of his bedchamber, took the
liberty of asking his majesty what benefit he expected to reap
if he should be successful in conquering the Romans?--Jesus!
said the King, peevishly; why the question answers itself.
When we have overcome the Romans, no province, no town, whether
Greek or barbarian, will be able to resist us: we shall at once
be masters of all Italy.  Cineas after a short pause replied,
And having subdued Italy, what shall we do next?--Do next?
answered Pyrrhus; why, seize Sicily.  Very likely, quoth
Cineas: but will that put an end to the war?-The gods forbid!
cried his Majesty: when Sicily is reduced, Libya and Carthage
will be within our reach.  And then, without giving Cineas time
to put in a word, the heroic Prince ran over Africa, Greece,
Asia, Persia, and every other country he had ever heard of upon
the face of God's earth; not one of which he intended should
escape his victorious sword.  At last, when he was at the end
of his geography, and a little out of breath, Cineas watched
his opportunity, and said quietly, Well, Sire, and when we have
conquered all the world, what are we to do then?--Why, then,
said his Majesty, extremely satisfied with his own prowess, we
will live at our ease; we: Will spend whole days in banqueting
and carousing, and will think of nothing but our pleasures.

Now, Madam, for the application.  Had I had the honour a few
years ago of being your confidential abigail, when you
meditated a visit to Princess Esterhazi, I would have ventured
to ask your ladyship of what advantage her acquaintance would
be to you?  Probably you would have told me, that she would
introduce you to several electresses and margravines, whose
courts you would visit.  That having conquered all their
hearts, as I am persuaded you would, your next jaunt would be
to Hesse; from whence it would be but a trip to Aix, where
Madame de Rochouart lives.  Soaring from thence you Would
repair to the Imperial court at Vienna, where resides the most
august, most virtuous, and most plump of empresses and queens-
-no, I mistake--I should only have said, of empresses; for her
Majesty of Denmark, God bless her! is reported to be full as
virtuous, and three stone heavier.  Shall not you call at
Copenhagen, Madam?  If you do, you are next door to the
Czarina, who is the quintessence of friendship, as the Princess
Daskioff says, whom, next to the late Czar, her Muscovite
Majesty loves above all the world.  Asia, I suppose, would not
enter into your ladyship's system Of conquest; for, though it
contains a sight of queens and sultanas, the poor ladies are
locked up in abominable places, into which I am sure your
ladyship's amity would never carry you--I think they call them
seraglios.  Africa has nothing but empresses stark-naked; and
of complexions directly the reverse of your alabaster They do
not reign in their own right; and what is worse, the emperors
of those barbarous regions wear no more robes than the
sovereigns of their hearts.  And what are princes and
princesses without velvet and ermine? As I am not a jot a
better geographer than King Pyrrhus, I can at present recollect
but one lady more who reigns alone, and that is her Majesty of
Otaheite, lately discovered by Mr. Bankes and Dr. Solander; and
for whom, your ladyship's compassionate breast must feel the
tenderest emotions,' she having been cruelly deprived of her
faithful minister and lover Tobiu, since dead at Batavia.

Well,'Madam, after you should have given me the plan of your
intended expeditions, and not left a queen regent on the face
of the globe unvisited,-- I would ask what we were to do next?-
-Why then, dear Abigail, you would have said, we will retire to
Notting-hill, we will plant shrubs all the morning, read
Anderson's Royal Genealogies all the evening; and once or twice
a week I will go to Gunnersbury and drink a bottle with
Princess Amelia.  Alas, dear lady! and cannot you do all that
without skuttling from one end of the world to the other?--This
was the, upshot of all Cineas's inquisitiveness: and this is
the pith of this tedious letter from, Madam, your ladyship's
most faithful Aulic Counsellor and humble admirer.

(106) See the two preceding letters.  It will be recollected
that Lady Mary Coke was sister-in-law to The Earl of Strafford,
and widow of Viscount Coke, heir apparent of Thomas Earl of
Leicester, who died without issue by her, in his father's
lifetime.  Lady Mary died at a great age in 1811-E.



Letter 64 To The Hon. Mrs. GREY.(107)
Dec. 9, 1773. (page 89)

DEAR MADAM,
As I hear Lady Blandford has a return of the gout-, as I
foretold last night from the red spot being not gone, I beg you
will be so good as to tell her, that if she does not encourage
the swelling by keeping her foot wrapped up as hot as possible
in flannel, she will torment herself and bring more pain.  I
will answer that if she will let it swell, and suffer the
swelling to go off of itself, she will have no more pain; and
she must remember, that the gout will bear contradiction no
more than she herself(108)  Pray read this to her, and what I
say farther--that though I know she will not bear pain for
herself, I am sure she will for her friends.  Her misfortune
has produced the greatest satisfaction that a good mind can
receive, the experience that that goodness has given her a
great many sincere friends, who have shown as much concern as
ever was known, and the most disinterested; as we know her
generosity has left her nothing to give.  We wish to preserve
her for her own sake and ours, and the poor beseech her to bear
a little pain for them.

I am going out of town till Monday, or would bring my
prescription myself.  She wants no virtue but patience; and
patience takes it very ill to be left out of such good company.
I am, dear Madam, Your obedient servant,
Dr. WALPOLE.

(107) NOW first printed.

(108) It has already been stated, that Lady Blandford was
somewhat impatient in her temper.-E.



Letter 65 To Sir David Dalrymple.(109)
Arlington Street, Dec. 14, 1773. (page 90)

Sir,
I have received from Mr. Dodsley, and read with pleasure, your
Remarks on the History of Scotland," though I am not
competently versed in some of the subjects.  Indeed, such a
load of difficult and vexatious business is fallen upon me by
the unhappy situation of my nephew, Lord Orford, of whose
affairs I have been forced to undertake the management, though
greatly unfit for it, that I am obliged to bid adieu to all
literary amusement and pursuits; and must dedicate the rest of
a life almost worn out, and of late wasted and broken by a long
illness, to the duties I owe to my family.  I hope you, Sir,
will have no such disagreeable avocation, and am your obliged
servant.

(109) Now first collected.



Letter 66 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Arlington Street, May 4, 1774. (page 90)

Dear Sir,
We have dropped one another, as if we were not antiquaries, but
people of this world-or do you disclaim me, because I have
quitted the Society?  I could give You but too sad reasons for
my silence.  The gout kept entire possession of me for six
months; and, before it released me, Lord Orford's illness and
affairs engrossed me totally.  I have been twice in Norfolk
since you heard from me.  I am now at liberty again.  What is
your account of yourself? To.  ask you to come above ground,
even so far as to see me, I know is in vain or I certainly
would ask it.  You impose Carthusian shackles on Yourself, Will
not quit your cell, nor will speak above once a week.  I am
glad to hear of you, and to see your hand, though you make that
as much like print as you can.  If you were to be tempted
abroad, it would be a pilgrimage: and I can lure you even with
that.  My chapel is finished, and the shrine will actually be
placed in less than a fortnight.  My father is said to have
said, that every man had his price.  You are a Beatus, indeed,
if you resist a shrine.  Why should not you add to your
claustral virtues that of a peregrination to Strawberry? You
will find me quite alone in July.  Consider, Strawberry is
almost the last monastery left, at least in England.  Poor Mr.
Bateman's is despoiled.  Lord Bateman has stripped and
plundered it: has sequestered the best things, has advertised
the site, and is dirtily selling by auction what he neither
would keep, nor can sell for a sum that is worth while.  I was
hurt to see half the ornaments of the chapel, and the
reliquaries, and in short a thousand trifles, exposed to
sneers.  I am buying a few to keep for the founder's sake.
Surely it is very indecent for a favourite relation, who is
rich, to show so little remembrance and affection.  I suppose
Strawberry will have the same fate!  It has already happened to
two of my friends.  Lord Bristol got his mother's house from
his brother, by persuading her he was in love with it.  He let
it in a month after she was dead band all her favourite
pictures and ornaments, which she had ordered not to be
removed, are mouldering in a garret! You are in the right to
care so little for a world where there is no measure but
avoirdupois.  Adieu! Yours sincerely.



Letter 67 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Strawberry Hill, May 28, 1774. (page 91)

Nothing will be more agreeable to me', dear Sir, than a visit
from you in July.  I will try to persuade Mr. Granger to meet
you; and if you had any such thing as summer in the fens, I
would desire you to bring a bag with you.  We are almost
freezing here in the midst of beautiful verdure, with a
profusion of blossoms and flowers; but I keep good fires, and
seem to feel warm weather while I look through the window; for
the way to ensure summer in England, is to have it framed and
glazed in a comfortable room.

I shall be still more glad to hear you are settled in Your
living.  Burnham is almost in my neighbourhood; and its being
in that of Eton and Windsor, will more than console you, I
hope, for leaving Ely and Cambridge.  Pray let me know the
moment you are certain.  It would now be a disappointment to me
as well as you.  You shall be inaugurated in my chapel, which
is much more venerable than your parish church, and has the
genuine air of antiquity.  I bought very little of poor Mr.
Bateman's. His nephew disposed of little that was worth
houseroom, and Yet pulled the whole to pieces.

Mr. Pennant has Published a new Tour to Scotland and the
Hebrides: and, though he has endeavoured to paint their dismal
isles and rocks in glowing colours, they will not be satisfied;
for he seems no bigot about Ossian, at least in some passages;
and is free in others, which their intolerating spirit will
resent.  I cannot say the book is very entertaining to me, and
it is more a book of rates than of antiquities.  The most
amusing part was communicated to him by Mr. Banks, who found
whole islands that bear nothing but columns, as other places do
grass and barley.  There is a beautiful cave called Fingal's;
which proves that nature loves Gothic architecture.

Mr. Pennant has given a new edition of his former Tour, with
more cuts.  Among others, is the vulgar head, called the
Countess of Desmond.  I told him I had discovered, and proved
past contradiction, that it is Rembrandt's mother.  He owned
it, and said, he would correct it by a note-but he has not.
This is a brave way of being an antiquary! as if there could be
any merit in giving for genuine what one knows to be spurious.
He is, indeed, a superficial man, and knows little of history
or antiquity: but he has a violent rage for being an author.
He set out with Ornithology, and a little Natural History, and
picks Up his knowledge as he rides.  I have a still lower idea
of Mr. Gough; for Mr. Pennant, at least, is very civil: the
other is a hog.  Mr. Fenn,(110) another smatterer in antiquity,
but. a very good sort of man, told me, Mr. Gough desired to be
introduced to me--but as he has been such a bear to you,(111)
he shall not come.  The Society of Antiquaries put me in mind
of what the old Lord Pembroke said to Anstis the herald: "Thou
silly fellow! thou dost not know thy own silly business."  If
they went behind taste by poking into barbarous ages, when
there was no taste, one could forgive them--but they catch at
the first ugly thing they see, and take it for old, because it
is new to them, and then usher it pompously into the world, as
if they had made a discovery; though they have not yet cleared
up a single point that is of the least importance, or that
tends to Settle any obscure passage in history.

I will not condole with you on having had the gout, since you
find it has removed other complaints.  Besides as it begins
late, you are never likely to have it severely.  I shall be in
terrors in two or three months, having had the four last fits
periodically and biennially Indeed, the two last were so long
and severe, that my remaining and shattered strength could ill
support such.

I must repeat how glad I shall be to have you at Burnham.  When
people grow old, as you and I do, they should get together.
Others do not care for us: but we seem wiser to one another by
finding fault with them.  Not that I am apt to dislike young
folks, whom I think every thing becomes: but it is a kind of
self-defence to live in a body.  I dare to say that monks never
find out that they grow old fools.  Their age gives them
authority, and nobody contradicts them.  In the world, one
cannot help perceiving one is out of fashion.  Women play at
cards with women of their own standing, and censure others
between the deals, and thence conclude themselves Gamaliels.  I
who see many young men with better parts than myself, submit
with a good grace, or retreat hither to my castle, where I am
satisfied with what I have done, and am always in good humour.
But I like to have one or two old friends with me.  I do not
much invite the juvenile, who think my castle and me of equal
antiquity: for no wonder, if they supposed George I. lived in
the time of the crusades.

Adieu! my good Sir, and pray let Burnham Wood and Dunsinane be
good neighbours.  Yours ever.

(110) Sir John Fenn, who edited the "Original Letters, written
during the Reigns of Henry VI., Edward IV., Richard III., and
Henry ViI., by various Persons of rank and consequence,
digested in a Chronological order - with Notes historical and
explanatory;" which were published in four volumes, quarto,
between the years 1787-1789.   The letters are principally by
members of the Paston family and others, who were of great
consequence in Norfolk at the time Sir John who was a native of
Norwich, died in 1794.   A fifth volume was published in 1823.-
E.

(111) Alluding to his not having answered a letter from Mr.
Cole for nearly a twelvemonth.



Letter 68 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Strawberry Hill, June 21, 1774. (page 93)

Your illness, dear Sir, is the worst excuse you could make me;
and the worse, as you may be well in a night, if you will, by
taking six grains of James's Powder.  He cannot cure death; but
he can most complaints that are not mortal or chronical.  He
could cure you so soon of colds, that he would cure you of
another distemper, to which I doubt you are a little subject,
the fear of them.  I hope you were certain, that illness is a
legal plea for missing induction, or you will have nursed a
cough and hoarseness with too much tenderness, as they
certainly could bear a journey.  Never see my face again, if
you are not rector of Burnham.  How can you be so bigoted to
Milton?  I should have thought the very name would have
prejudiced you against the place, as the name is all that could
approach towards reconciling me to the fens.  I shall be very
glad to see you here, whenever you have resolution enough to
quit your cell.  But since Burnham and the neighbourhood of
Windsor and Eton have no charms for you, can I expect that
Strawberry Hill should have any?  Methinks, that when one grows
old, one's contemporary friends should be our best amusement:
for younger people are soon tired of us, and our old stories:
but I have found the contrary in some of mine.  For your part,
you care for conversing with none but the dead: for I reckon
the unborn, for whom you are writing, as much dead, as those
from whom you collect. .

You certainly ask no favour, dear Sir, when you want prints of
Me.  They are at any body's service that thinks them worth
having.  The owner sets very little value on them, since he
sets very little, indeed, on himself: as a man, a very faulty
one; and as an author, a very
middling one; which
whoever thinks a comfortable rank, is not at all my opinion.
Pray convince me that you think I mean sincerely, by not
answering me with a compliment.  it is very weak to be pleased
with flattery; the stupidest of 'all delusions to beg it.  From
You I should take it ill.  We have known one another almost
fifty years--to very little purpose, indeed, if any ceremony is
necessary, or downright sincerity not established between us.
tell me that you are recovered, and that I shall see you some
time or other.  I have finished the catalogue of my collection;
but you shall never have it without fetching, nor, though a
less punishment, the prints you desire.  I propose in time to
have plates of my house added to 'the Catalogue, yet I Cannot
afford them, unless by degrees.  Engravers are grown so much
dearer, without My growing richer, that I must have patience! a
quality I seldom have, but when I must.  Adieu! Yours ever.

P. S. I have lately been at Ampthill, and saw Queen Catherine's
cross. It is not near large enough for the situation, and would
be fitter for a garden than a park: but it is executed in the
truest and best taste. Lord Ossory is quite satisfied, as well
as I, and designs Mr. Essex a present of some guineas. If ever
I am richer, I shall consult the same honest man about building
my offices, for Which I have a plan: but if I have no more
money, ever, I Will not run in debt, and distress myself: and
therefore remit my designs to chance and a little economy.



Letter 69 To The Hon. H. S. Conway.
Strawberry Hill, June 23, 1774. (page 94)

I have nothing to say--which is the best reason in the world
for writing; for one must have a great regard for any body, one
writes to, when one begins a letter neither on ceremony nor
business.  You are seeing armies,(112) who are always in fine
order--and great spirits when they are in cold blood: I am
sorry you thought it worth while to realize what I should have
thought you could have seen in your mind's eye.  However, I
hope you will be amused and pleased With viewing heroes, both
in their autumn and their bud.  Vienna will be a new sight; so
will the Austrian eagle and its two heads, I should like
seeing, too, if any fairy would present me with a chest that
would fly up into the air by touching a peg, and transport me
whither I pleased in an instant: but roads, and inns, and dirt,
are terrible drawbacks on My curiosity.  I grow so old and so
indolent, that I scarce stir from hence; and the dread of the
gout makes me almost as much a prisoner, as a fit of it.  News
I know none, if there is any.  The papers tell me that the city
was to present a petition to The King against the Quebec-bill
yesterday; and I suppose they will tell me to-morrow whether it
was presented.  The King's speech tells me, there has nothing
happened between the Russians and the Turks.(113)  Lady
Barrymore told me t'other day, that nothing was to happen
between her and Lord Egremont.  I am as well satisfied with
these negatives, as I should have been with the contrary.  I am
much more interested about the rain, for it destroys all my
roses and orange-flowers, of which I have exuberance; and my
hay is cut, and cannot be made.  However, it is delightful to
have no other distresses.  When I compare my present
tranquillity and indifference with all I suffered last
year,(114) I am thankful for my happiness and enjoy it--unless
the bell rings early in the morning--then I tremble, and think
it an express from Norfolk.

It is unfortunate that when one has nothing to talk of but
one's self, one should have nothing to' say of one's self.  It
is shameful, too, to send such a scrap by the post.  I think I
shall reserve it till Tuesday.  If -I have then nothing to add,
as is probable, you must content yourself with my good
intentions, as you, I hope, will with this speculative
campaign.  Pray, for the future, remain at home and build
bridges: I wish you were here to expedite ours to Richmond,
which they tell me Will not be passable these two years.  I
have done looking so forward.  Adieu!

(112) Mr. Conway was now on a tour of military curiosity
through Flanders, Germany, Prussia, and part of Hungary.

(113) Peace between Russia and Turkey Was proclaimed at St.
Petersburgh on the 14th of August, 1774.-E.

(114) During the illness of his nephew, Lord Orford.



Letter 70 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Matson, near Gloucester, Aug. 15, 1774. (page 95)

Dear Sir,
As I am your disciple in antiquities (for you studied them when
I was but a scoffer), I think it my duty to give you some
account of my journeying, in the good cause.  You will not
dislike my date.  I am in the Very mansion where King Charles
the First and his two eldest sons lay during the siege; and
there are marks of the last's
hacking with his hanger on a window, as he told Mr. Selwin's
grandfather afterwards.  The present master has done due honour
to the royal residence, and erected a good marble bust of the
Martyr, in a little gallery.  In a window is a shield in
painted glass, with that King's and his Queen's arms, which I
gave him.  So you see I am not a rebel, when alma mater
antiquity stands godmother.

I went again to the cathedral, and, on seeing the monument of
Edward II a new historic doubt started which I pray you to
solve.  His Majesty has a longish beard - and such were
certainly worn at that time.  Who is the first historian that
tells the story of his being shaven with cold water from a
ditch and weeping to supply warm, as he was carried to Berkeley
Castle?  Is not this apocryphal?  The house whence Bishop
Hooper(115) was carried to the stake, is still standing, tale
quale.  I made a visit to his actual successor, Warburton, 'who
is very infirm, speaks with much hesitation, and, they say,
begins to lose his memory.  They have destroyed the beautiful
cross; the two battered heads of Henry III. and Edward III. are
in the Postmaster's garden.

Yesterday I made a jaunt four miles hence that pleased me
exceedingly, to Prinknash, the individual villa of the abbots
of Gloucester.  I wished you there with their mitre on.  It
stands on a glorious, but impracticable hill, in the midst of a
little forest of beech, and commanding Elysium.  The house is
small, but has good rooms, and though modernized here and
there, not extravagantly.  On the ceiling of the hall is Edward
IVth's Jovial device, a fau-con serrure.  The chapel is low and
small, but antique, and with painted glass, with many angels in
their coronation robes, i. e. wings and crowns.  Henry VIII.
and Jane Seymour lay here: in the dining-room are their arms in
glass, and of Catherine of Arragon, and of Brays and Bridges.
Under the window, a barbarous bas-relief head of Harry, young:
as it is still on a sign of an alehouse, on the descent of the
hill.  Think of my amazement, when they showed me the chapel
plate, and I found on it, on four pieces, my own arms,
quartering my mother-in-law, Skerret's, and in a shield of
pretence, those of Fortescue certainly by mistake, for those of
my sister-in-law, as the barony of Clinton was in abeyance
between her and Fortescue Lord Clinton.  The whole is modern
and blundered: for Skerret should be impaled, not quartered,
and instead of our crest, are two spears tied together in a
ducal coronet, and no coronet for my brother, in whose time
this plate must have been made, and at whose sale it was
probably bought; as he finished the repairs of the church at
Houghton, for which, I suppose, this decoration was intended.
But the silversmith was no herald, you see.

As I descended the hill, I found in a wretched cottage a child,
in an ancient oaken cradle, exactly in the form of that lately
published from the cradle of Edward II.  I purchased it for
five shillings; but don't know whether I shall have fortitude
enough to transport it to Strawberry Hill.  People would
conclude me in my second childhood.

To-day I have been at Berkeley and Thornbury Castles.  The
first disappointed me much, though very entire.  It is much
smaller than I expected, but very entire, except a small part
burnt two years ago, while the present Earl was in the house.
The fire began in the housekeeper's room, who never appeared
more; but as she was strict over the servants, and not a bone
of her was found, it was supposed that she was murdered, and
the body conveyed away.  The situation is not elevated nor
beautiful, and little improvements made of late, but some silly
ones `a la Chinoise, by the present Dowager.  In good sooth, I
can give you but a very imperfect account; for, instead of the
lord's
being gone to dine with the mayor of Gloucester, as I expected,
I found him in the midst of all his captains of the militia.  I
am so sillily shy of strangers and youngsters, that I hurried
through the chambers; and looked for nothing but the way out of
every room.  I just observed that there were many bad portraits
of the family, but none ancient; as if the Berkeleys had been
commissaries, and raised themselves in the last war.  There is
a plentiful addition of those of my Lord Berkeley of Stratton,
but no knights templars, or barons as old as Edward I.; yet are
there three beds on which there may have been as frisky doings
three centuries ago, as there probably have been within these
ten ears.  The room shown for the murder of Edward II., and the
shrieks of an agonizing king, I verily believe to be genuine.
It is a dismal chamber, almost at top of the house, quite
detached, and to be approached only by a kind of foot-bridge,
and from that 'descends' a large flight of steps that terminate
on strong gates; exactly the situation for a corps de garde.
In that room they show you a cast of a face in plaister, and
tell you it was taken from Edward's.  I was not quite so easy
of faith about that; for it is evidently the face of Charles I.

The steeple of the church, lately rebuilt handsomely, stands
some paces from the body; in the latter are three tombs of the
old Berkeleys;, with cumbent figures.  The wife of the Lord
Berkeley,(116) who was supposed to be privy to the murder, has
a curious headgear; it is like a long horseshoe, quilted in
quatrefoils; and, like Lord Foppington's wig, allows no more
than the breadth of a half-crown to be discovered of the face.
Stay, I think I mistake; the husband was a conspirator against
Richard II. not Edward.  But in those days, loyalty was not so
rife as at present.

>From Berkeley Castle I went to Thornbury, of which the ruins
are half-ruined.  It would have been glorious, if
finished.(117) I wish the lords of Berkeley had retained the
spirit of deposing till Henry the VIIIth's time! The situation
is fine, though that was not the fashion; for all the windows
of the great apartment look into the inner court.  The prospect
was left to the servants.  Here I had two adventures.  I could
find nobody to show me about.  I saw a paltry house that I took
for the sexton's, at the corner of the close, and bade my
servant ring, and ask who could show me the Castle.  A voice in
a passion flew, from a casement, and issued from a divine.
"What! was it his business to show the Castle? - Go look for
somebody else! What did the fellow ring for as if the house was
on fire?" The poor
Swiss came back in a fright, and said, the doctor had sworn at
him.  Well--we scrambled over a stone stile, saw a room or two
glazed near the gate, and rung at it.  A damsel came forth and
satisfied our curiosity.  When we had done seeing, I said,
"Child, we don't know our Way, and want to be directed into the
London road; I see the Duke's steward yonder at the window,
pray desire him to come to me, that I may consult him." She
went--he stood staring at us at the window, and sent his
footman.  I do not think courtesy is a resident at Thornbury.
As I returned through the close, the divine came running, out
of breath, and without his beaver or band, and calls out, "Sir,
I am come to justify myself: your servant says I swore at him:
I am no swearer--Lord bless me! (dropping his voice) it is Mr.
Walpole!"  "Yes, Sir, and I think you was Lord Beauchamp's
tutor at Oxford, but I have forgot your name."  "Holwell, Sir."
"Oh! yes." and then I comforted him, and laid the ill-breeding
on my footman's being a foreigner; but could not help saying, I
really had taken his house for the sexton's.  "Yes, Sir, it is
not very good without, won't you please to walk in!" I did, and
found the inside ten times worse, and He was making an Index to
Homer, a lean wife, suckling a child.  He is going to publish
the chief beauties, and I believe had just been reading some of
the delicate civilities that pass between Agamemnon and
Achilles, and that what my servant took for oaths, were only
Greek compliments.(118)  Adieu! Yours ever.

You see I have not a line more of paper.

(115) John Hooper, Bishop of Gloucester, who, having refused to
recant his opinions, was burned alive before the cathedral of
Gloucester in the year 1554.-E.

(116) Thomas, third Lord Berkeley, was entrusted with the
custody of Edward II.; but, owing to the humanity with which he
treated the captive monarch, he was forced to resign his
prisoner and his castle to Lord Maltravers and Sir Thomas
Gournay.  After the murder of Edward, Lord Berkeley was
arraigned as a participator in the crime, but honourably
acquitted.  The Lady Berkeley alluded to by Walpole was his
first wife, Margaret, daughter of Roger de Mortimer, Earl of
March, and widow of Robert Vere, Earl of Oxford.-E.

(117) Thornbury Castle was designed, but never finished by the
Duke of Buckingham, in Henry VIII's time.-E.

(118) The Rev. William Holwell, vicar of Thornbury, prebendary
of Exeter, and some time chaplain to the King.  He was
distinguished by superior talents as a scholar, and a critical
knowledge of the Greek language.  His "Extracts from Mr. Pope's
Translation, corresponding with the Beauties of Homer, selected
from the Iliad," were published in 1776.-E.



Letter 71 To The Hon. H. S. Conway.
Strawberry Hill, August 18, 1774. (page 98)

It is very hard, that because you do not get my letters, you
will not let me receive yours, who do receive them.  I have not
had a line from you these five weeks.  Of your honours and
glories fame has told me;(119) and for aught I know, you may be
a veldt-marshal by this time, and despise such a poor cottager
as me.  Take notice I shall disclaim you in my turn, if you are
sent on a command against Dantzich, or to usurp a new district
in Poland.(120)

I have seen no armies, kings, or.  empresses, and cannot send
you such august gazettes; nor are they what I want to hear of.
I like to hear you are well and diverted; nay, have pimped
towards the latter, by desiring Lady Ailesbury to send you
Monsieur do Guisnes's invitation to a military f`ete at
Metz.(121)  For my part, I wish you was returned to your
plough.  Your Sabine farm is in high beauty.  I have lain there
twice within this week, going to and from a visit to George
Selwyn, near Gloucester; a tour as much to my taste as yours to
you.  For fortified towns I have seen ruined castles.
Unluckily, in that of Berkeley I found a hole regiment of
militia in garrison, and as many young officers as if the
Countess was
in possession, and ready to surrender at indiscretion.  I
endeavoured to comfort myself, by figuring that they were
guarding Edward II.  I have seen many other ancient sights
without asking leave of the King of Prussia: it would not
please me so much to write to him, as it once did to write for
him.(122)

They have found at least seventy thousand pounds of Lord
Thomond's.(123)  George Howard has decked himself with a red
riband, money, and honours!  Charming things! and yet One may
be happy without them.

The young Mr. Coke is returned from his travels n love with the
Pretender's queen,(124) who has permitted him to have her
picture.  What can I tell you more?  Nothing.  Indeed, if I
only write to postmasters, my letter is long enough.  Every
body's head but mine is full of elections.  I had the
satisfaction at Gloucester, where George Selwyn is canvassing,
of reflecting on my own wisdom.  "Suave mari maggno turbantibus
aequora ventis," etc.  I am certainly the greatest philosopher
in the world, without ever having thought of being so: always
employed, and never busy;' eager about trifles, and indifferent
to every thing serious.  Well, if it is not philosophy, it is
at least content.  I am as pleased here with my own nutshell,
as any monarch you have seen these two months astride his
eagle--not but I was dissatisfied when I missed you at
Park-place, and was peevish at your being in an Aulic chamber.
Adieu! Yours ever.

P- S.  They tell us from Vienna, that the peace is made between
Tisiphone and the Turk: is it true?

(119) Alluding to the distinguished notice taken of General
Conway by the King of Prussia.

(120) The first dismemberment of Poland had taken place in the
preceding year, by which a third of her territory was ceded to
Russia, Austria, and Prussia.-E.

(121) To see the review of the French regiment of Carabineers,
then commanded by Monsieur de Guisnes.

(122) Alluding to the Letter to Rousseau in the name of the
King of Prussia.

(123) Percy Wyndham Obrien.  He was the second son of Sir
Charles Wyndham, chancellor of the exchequer to Queen Anne; and
took the name of Obrien, pursuant to the Earl of Thomond in
Ireland.

(124) The Countess of Albany.-E.



Letter 72 To The Hon. H. S. Conway.
Strawberry Hill, Sept. 7, 1774. (page 99)

I did not think you had been so like the rest of the world, as,
when you pretended to be visiting armies, to go in search of
gold and silver mines!(125)  The favours of courts and the
smiles of emperors and kings, I see, have corrupted even you,
and perverted you to a nabob.  Have you brought away an ingot
in the calf of your leg? What abomination have you committed?
All the gazettes in Europe have sent you on different
negotiations: instead of returning With a treaty in your
pocket, you will only come back with bills of exchange.  I
don't envy your subterraneous travels, nor the hospitality of
the Hungarians.  Where did you find a spoonful of Latin about
you? I have not attempted to speak Latin these thirty years,
without perceiving I was talking Italian thickened with
terminations in us and orum.  I should have as little expected
to find an Ovid in those regions; but I suppose the gentry of
Presburg read him for a fashionable author, as our squires and
their wives do the last collections of ballads that have been
sung at Vauxhall and Marybone.  I wish you may have brought
away some sketches of Duke Albert's architecture.  You know I
deal in the works of royal authors, though I have never admired
any of their own buildings, not excepting King Solomon's
temple.  Stanley(126) and Edmondson in Hungary!  What carried
them thither?  The chase of mines too?  The first, perhaps,
waddled thither obliquely, as a parrot would have done whose
direction was to Naples.

Well, I am glad you have been entertained, and seen such a
variety of sights.  You don't mind fatigues and hardships, and
hospitality, the two extremes that to me poison travelling.  I
shall never see any thing more, unless I meet with a ring that
renders one invisible.  It was but the other day that, being
with George Selwyn at Gloucester, I Went to view Berkeley
Castle, knowing the Earl was to dine with the mayor of
Gloucester.  Alas! when I arrived, he had put off the party to
enjoy his militia a day longer, and the house was full of
officers.  They might be in the Hungarian dress, for aught I
knew; for I was so dismayed, that I would"fain have persuaded
the housekeeper that she could not show me the apartments; and
when she opened the hall, and I saw it full of captains, I hid
myself in a dark passage, and nothing could persuade me to
enter, till they had the civility to quit the place.  When I
was forced at last to go over the castle, I ran through it
without seeing any thing, as if I had been afraid of being
detained prisoner.

I have no news to send you: if I had any, I would not conclude,
as all correspondents do, that Lady Ailesbury left nothing
Untold.  Lady Powis is gone to hold mobs at Ludlow, where there
is actual war, and where a knight, I forget his name, one of
their friends, has been almost cut in two with a scythe.  When
you have seen all the armies in Europe, you will be just in
time for many election-battles--perhaps, for a war in America,
whither more troops are going.  Many of those already sent have
deserted; and to be sure the- prospect there is not smiling.
Apropos, Lord Mahon,(127) whom Lord Stanhope, his father, will
not suffer to wear powder because wheat is so dear, was
presented t'other day in coal-black hair and a white feather:
they said, "he had been tarred and feathered."

In France you will find a new scene.(128)  The Chancellor is
sent, a little before his time, to the devil.  The old
Parliament is expected back.  I am sorry to say I shall not
meet you there.  It will be too late in the year for me to
venture, especially as I now live in dread of my biennial gout,
and should die of it in an h`otel garni, and forced to receive
all comers--I, who you know lock myself up when I am ill as if
I had the plague.

I wish I could fill my sheet, in return for your five pages.
The only thing-you will care for knowing is, that I never saw
Mrs. Damer better in her life, nor look so well. You may trust
me, who am so apt to be frightened about her.

(125) Mr. Conway had gone to see the gold and silver mines of
cremnitz, in the neighbourhood of Grau, in Hungary.

(126) Mr. Hans Stanley.

(127) Charles Viscount Mahon, born on the 3d of August 1753.
In the following December, he married Lady Hester Pitt, eldest
daughter of the Earl of Chatham.  He succeeded his father, as
third Earl Stanhope, in March 1786, and died in 1816.-E.

(128) In Consequence of the death of Louis XV. on the 10th of
May.-E.



Letter 73 To The Hon. H. S. Conway.
Strawberry Hill, Sept. 27, 1774. (page 101)

I should be very ungrateful indeed if I thought of complaining
of you, who are goodness itself to me: and when I did not
receive letters from 'you, I concluded it happened from your
eccentric positions.  I am amazed, that hurried as YOU have
been, and your eyes and thoughts- crowded with objects, you
have been able to find time to write me so many and such long
letters, over and above all those to Lady, Ailesbury, your
daughter, brother, and other friends.  Even Lord Strafford
brags of your frequent remembrance.  That your superabundance
of royal beams would dazzle you, I never suspected.  Even I
enjoy for you the distinctions you have received--though I
should hate such things for myself, as they are particularly
troublesome to me,'and I am particularly awkward under them,
and as I abhor the King of Prussia, and if I passed through
Berlin, should have no joy like avoiding him--like one of our
countrymen, who changed horses at Paris, and asked what the
name of that town was?  All the other civilities you have
received I am perfectly happy in.  The Germans are certainly a
civil, well-meaning people, and, I believe, one of the least
corrupted nations in Europe.  I do not think them very
agreeable; but who do I think are so? A great many French
women, some English men, and a few English women; exceedingly
few French men.  Italian women are the grossest, vulqarest of
the sex.  If an Italian man has a grain of sense, he is a
buffoon.  So much for Europe!

I have already told you, and so must Lady Ailesbury, that my
courage fails me, and I dare not meet you at Paris, As the
period arrived when the gout used to come, it is never a moment
out of my head.  Such a suffering, such a helpless condition as
I was in for five months and a half, two years ago, makes me
tremble from head to foot.  I should die at once if seized in a
French inn; or, what, if possible, would be worse, at Paris,
where I must admit every body.--I, who you know can hardly bear
to see even you when I am ill, and who shut up myself here, and
would not let Lord and Lady Hertford come near me--I, who have
my room washed though in bed, how could I bear French dirt! In
short, I, who am so capricious, and whom you are pleased to
call a philosopher, I suppose because I have given up every
thing but my own will--how could I keep my temper, who have no
way of keeping my temper but by keeping it out of every body's
way! No, I must give up the satisfaction of being with you at
Paris.  I have just learnt to give up my pleasures, but I
cannot give up my pains, which such selfish people as I who
have suffered much, grow to compose into a system that they are
partial to, because it is their own.  I must make myself amends
when you return: you will be more stationary, I hope, for the
future; and if I live I shall have intervals of health.  In
lieu of me, you will have a charming succedaneum, Lady Harriet
Stanhope.(129)  Her father, who is more a hero than i, is
packing up his old decrepit bones, and goes too.  I wish she
may not have him to nurse, instead of diverting herself.

The present state of your country is, that it is drowned and
dead drunk; all water without, and wine within.  Opposition for
the next elections every where, even in Scotland; not from
party, but as laying Out money to advantage.  In the
head-quarters, indeed, party is not out of the question: the
day after to-morrow will be a great bustle in the city for a
Lord Mayor,(130) and all the winter in Westminster, where Lord
Mahon and Humphrey Cotes oppose the court.  Lady Powis is
saving her money at Ludlow and Powis Castles by keeping open
house day and night against Sir Watkin Williams, and fears she
shall be kept there till the general election.  It has rained
this whole month, and we have got another inundation.  The
Thames is as broad as your Danube, and all my meadows are under
water.  Lady Browne and I, coming last Sunday night from Lady
Blandford's, were in a piteous plight.  The ferryboat was
turned round by the current, and carried to Isleworth.  Then we
ran against the piers of our new bridge, and the horses were
frightened.  Luckily, my cicisbeo -was a Catholic, and screamed
to so many Saints, that some of them at the nearest alehouse
came and saved us, or I should have had no more gout, or what I
dreaded I should; for I concluded we should be carried ashore
somewhere, and be forced to wade through the mud up to my
middle.  So you see one may wrap oneself up in flannel and be
in danger, without visiting all the armies on the face of the
globe, and putting the immortality of one's chaise to the
proof.

I am ashamed Of sending you three sides of smaller paper in
answer to seven large--but what can I do? I see nothing, know
nothing, do nothing.  My castle is finished, I have nothing new
to read, I am tired of writing, I have no new or old bit for my
printer.  I have only black hoods around me; or, if I go to
town, the family-party in Grosvenor Street.  One trait will
give you a sample of how I passed my time, and made me laugh,
as it put me in mind of you; at least it was a fit of absence,
much more likely to have happened to you than to me.  I was
playing eighteenpenny tredrille with the Duchess of
Newcastle(131) and Lady Browne, and certainly not much
interested in the game.  I cannot recollect nor conceive what I
was thinking of, but I pushed the cards very gravely to the
Duchess, and said, "Doctor, you are to deal." You may guess at
their astonishment, and how much it made us all laugh.  I wish
it may make you smile a moment, or that I had any thing better
to send you.  Adieu, most affectionately.  Yours ever.

(129) a Daughter of the Earl of Harrington.  Her ladyship was
married, in 1776, to Thomas second Lord Foley.-E.

(130) When Mr. Wilkes was elected.

(131) Catherine, eldest daughter and heiress of the Right Hon.
Henry Pelham, married to Henry ninth Earl of Lincoln; who, in
consequence of his marriage with her, inherited in 1768, the
dukedom of Newcastle-under-Line on the demise of the Countess's
uncle, Thomas Pelham Holles, Who had been created Duke of
Newcastle.under-Line, with special remainder to the Earl of
Lincoln , in 1756 _E.



Letter 74 To The Hon. H. S. Conway.
Strawberry Hill, Sept. 28, 1774. (page 103)

Lady Ailesbury brings you this,(132) which is not a letter, but
a paper of direction, and the counterpart of what I have
written to Madame du Deffand.  I beg of you seriously to take a
great deal of notice of this dear old friend of mine.  She
will, perhaps, expect more attention
from you, as my friend, and as it is her own nature a little,
than will be quite convenient to you: but you have an infinite
deal of patience and good-nature, and will excuse it.  I was
afraid of her importuning Madame Ailesbury, who has a vast deal
to see and do, and, therefore, I prepared Madame du Deffand,
and told her Lady Ailesbury loves amusements, and that, having
never been at Paris before, she must not confine her: so you
must pay for both--and it will answer: and- I do not, I own,
ask this Only for Madame du Deffand's sake, but for my own, and
a little for yours.  Since the late King's death she has not
dared to write to me freely, and I want to know the present
state of 'France exactly, both to satisfy my Own curiosity, and
for her sake, as- I wish to learn whether her, pension, etc. is
in any danger from the present ministry, some of whom are not
her friends.  She can tell you a great deal if she will--by
that I don't mean that she is reserved, or partial to, her Own
country against ours--quite the contrary; she loves me better
than all France together--but she hates politics; and
therefore, to make her talk on it, you must tell her it is to
satisfy me, and that I want to know whether she is well at
court, whether she has any fears from the government,
particularly Maurepas and Nivernois: and that I am eager to
have Monsieur do Choiseul and ma grandmaman, the Duchess,
restored to power.  If you take it on this foot easily, she
will talk to you with the utmost frankness and with amazing
cleverness.  I have told her you are strangely absent, and
that, if she does not repeat it over and over, you will forget
every syllable; so I have prepared her to joke and be quite
familiar with you at once.(133)  She knows more of personal
characters, and paints them better, than any body: but let this
be between ourselves, for I would not have a living soul
suspect, that I get any intelligence from her, which would hurt
her; and, therefore, I beg you not to let any human being know
of this letter, nor of your conversation with her, neither
English nor French.

Madame du Deffand hates les philosophes; so you must give them
up to her.  She and Madame Geoffrin are no friends: so, if you
go thither, don't tell her of it.  Indeed, you would be sick of
that house, whither all pretended beaux esprits and faux
savants go, and where they are very impertinent and dogmatic.

Let me give you one other caution, which I shall give to Lady
Ailesbury too.  Take care of your papers at Paris, and have a
very strong lock to your porte-feuille.  In the h`otels garnis
they have double keys to every lock, and examine every drawer
and paper of the English they can get at.  They will pilfer,
too, whatever they can.  I was robbed of half my clothes there
the first time, and they wanted to hang poor Louis to save the
people of the house who had stolen the things.

Here is another thing I must say.  Madame du Deffand has kept a
great many of my letters, and, as she is very old, I am in pain
about them.  I have written to her to beg she will deliver them
up to you to bring back to me, and I trust she Will.(134)  If
she does, be so good to take great care of them.  If she does
not mention them, tell her before you come away, that I begged
you to bring them; and if she hesitates, convince her how it
would hurt me to have letters written in very bad French, and
mentioning several people, both French and English, fall into
bad hands, and, perhaps, be printed.

Let me desire you to read this letter more than once, that you
may not forget my requests, which are very important to me; and
I must give you one other caution, without which all would be
useless.

There is at Paris a Mademoiselle de l,Espinasse,(135) a
pretended bel esprit, who was formerly an humble companion of
Madame du Deffand; and betrayed her and used her very ill.  I
beg of you not to let any body carry you thither.  It Would
disoblige my friend of all things in the world, and she would
never tell you a syllable; and I own it would hurt me, who have
such infinite obligations to her, that I should be very unhappy
if a particular friend of mine showed her this disregard.  She
has done every thing upon earth to please and serve me, and I
owe it to her to be earnest about this attention. Pray do not
mention it; it might look simple in me, and yet I owe it to
her, as I know it would hurt her, and, at her age, with her
misfortunes, and with infinite obligations on my side, can I do
too much to show My gratitude, or prevent her any new
mortification? I dwell upon it, because she has some enemies so
spiteful that they try to carry all English to Mademoiselle de
l'Espinasse.

I wish the Duchess of Choiseul may come to Paris while you are
there; but I fear she will not; you would like her of all
things.  She has more sense and more virtues than almost any
human being.  If you choose to see any of the savans, let me
recommend Monsieur Buffon.  He has not only much more sense
than any of them, but is an excellent old man, humane, gentle,
well-bred, and with none of the arrogant pertness of all the
rest.  if he is at Paris, you will see a good deal of the Comte
d e Broglie at Madame du Deffand's.  He is not a genius of the
first water, but lively and sometimes agreeable.  The court, I
fear, will be at Fontainbleau, which will prevent your seeing
many, unless you go thither.  Adieu! at Paris! I leave the rest
of my paper for England, if I happen to have any thing
particular to tell you.

(132) Mr. Conway ended is military tour at Paris; whither Lady
Ailesbury and Mrs. Damer went to meet him, and where they spent
the winter together.

(133) In her letter to Walpole, of the 28th of October, Madame
du Deffand draws the following portrait of General Conway:--
"Selon l'id`ee que vous m'en aviez donn`ee, je le croyais
grave, s`ev`ere, froid, imposant; c'est l'homme le plus
aimable, le plus facile, le plus doux, le plus obligeant, et le
plus simple que je connaisse.  Il n'a pas ces premiers
mouvemens de sensibilit`e qu'on trouve en vous, mais aussi
n'a-t-il pas votre humeur."-E.

(134) To this request Madame du Deffand replied--"Je ne me
flatte point de vous revoir l'ann`ee prochaine, et le renvoi
que vous voulez que je vous fasse de vos lettres est ce qui
m'en fait denier.  Ne serait-il pas plus naturel, si vous
deviez venir, que je vous les rendisse `a vous-m`eme? car vous
ne pensez pas que je ne puisse vivre encore un an.  Vous me
faites croire, Par votre m`efiance, que vous avez en vue
d'effacer toute trace de votre intelligence avec Moi."-E.

(135) Mademoiselle de l'Espinasse, the friend of D'Alembert,
born at Lyons in 1732, was the natural child of Mademoiselle
d'Albon, whose legitimate daughter was married to the Marquis
de Vichy.  After the death of her mother, she resided with
Monsieur and Madame de Vichy; but in consequence of some
disagreements, left them, and in May
1754, went to reside with Madame du Deffand, with whom she
remained until 1764.  The letters of Mademoiselle de
l'Espinasse were published some few years since.-E.



Letter 75 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Strawberry Hill, Oct. 11, 1774. (page 105)

Dear Sir,
I answer yours immediately; as one pays a shilling to clench a
bargain, when one suspects the seller.  I accept your visit in
the last week of this month, and will prosecute you if you do
not execute.  I have nothing to say about elections, but that I
congratulate myself ,every time I feel I have nothing to do
with them.  By my nephew's strange conduct about his boroughs,
and by many other reasons, I doubt whether he is so well as he
seemed to Dr. Barnardiston.  It is a subject I do not love to
talk on; but I know I tremble every time the bell rings at my
gate at an unusual hour.

Have you seen Mr. Granger's Supplement?  Methinks it grows too
diffuse.  I have hinted to him that fewer panegyrics from
funeral orations would not hurt it.  Adieu!



Letter 76 To The Hon. H. S. Conway.
Strawberry Hill, Sunday, Oct. 16, 1774. (page 106)

I received this morning your letter of the 6th from Strasburg;
and before you get this you will have had three from me by Lady
Ailesbury.  One of them should have reached you much sooner;
but Lady Ailesbury kept it, not being sure where you was.  It
was in answer to one in which you told me an anecdote, which in
this last you ask if I had received.

Your letters are always so welcome to me, that you certainly
have no occasion for excusing what you say or do not say.  Your
details amuse me, and so would what you suppress; for, though I
have no military genius or curiosity, whatever relates to
yourself must interest me.  The honours you have received,
though I have so little taste for such things myself, gave me
great satisfaction; and I do not know whether there is not more
pleasure in not being a prophet in one's own country, when one
is almost received like Mahomet in every other.  To be an idol
at home, is no assured touchstone of merit.  Stocks and stones
have been adored in fifty regions, but do not bear
transplanting.  The Apollo Belvidere and the Hercules Farnese
may lose their temples, but never lose their estimation, by
travelling.

Elections, you may be sure, are the only topic here at
present--I mean in England--not on this quiet hill, where I
think of them as little as of the spot where the battle of
Blenheim was fought.  They say there will not be much
alteration, but the phoenix will rise from its ashes with most
of its old plumes, or as bright.  Wilkes at first seemed to
carry all before him, besides having obtained the mayoralty of
London at last. Lady Hertford told me last Sunday, that he
would carry twelve members.  I have not been in town since, nor
know any thing but what I collect from the papers; so. if my
letter is opened, M. de Vergennes will not amass any very
authentic intelligence from my despatches.

What I have taken notice of, is as follows: For the city Wilkes
will have but three members: he will lose Crosby, and Townsend
will carry Oliver.  In Westminster, Wilkes will not have one;
his Humphrey Cotes is by far the lowest on the poll; Lord Percy
and Lord T. Clinton are triumphant there.  Her grace of
Northumberland sits at a window in Covent-garden, harangues the
mob, and is "Hail, fellow, well met!"  At Dover, Wilkes has
carried one, and probably will come in for Middlesex himself
with Glynn.  There have been great endeavours to oppose him,
but to no purpose.  Of this I am glad, for I do not love a mob
so near as Brentford especially, as my road lies through it.
Where he has any other interest I am too ignorant in these
matters to tell you.  Lord John Cavendish is opposed at York,
and at the beginning of the poll had the fewest numbers.
Charles Fox, like the ghost in Hamlet, has shifted to many
quarters; but in most the cock crew, and he walked off.(136) In
Southwark there has been outrageous rioting; but I neither know
the candidates, their connexions, nor success.  This, perhaps,
will appear a great deal of news at Paris: here, I dare to say,
my butcher knows more.

I can tell you still less of America.  There are two or three
more ships with forces going thither, and Sir William Draper as
second in command.

Of private news, except that Dyson has had a stroke of palsy
and will die, there is certainly none; for I saw that shrill
Morning Post, Lady Greenwich, two hours ago, and she did not
Know a paragraph.

I forgot to mention to you M. de Maurepas.  He was by far the
ablest and most agreeable man I knew at Paris: and if you stay,
I think I could take the liberty of giving you a letter to him;
though, as he is now so great a man, and I remain so little an
one, I don't know whether it would be quite so proper--though
he was exceedingly good to me, and pressed me often to make him
a visit in the country.  But Lord Stormont can certainly carry
you to him--a better passport.

There was one of my letters on which I wish to hear from you.
There are always English coming from Paris, who would bring
such a parcel: at least, you might send me one volume at a
time, and the rest afterwards: but I should not care to have
them ventured by the common conveyance.  Madame du Deffand is
negotiating for an enamel picture for me; but, if she obtains
it, I had rather wait for it till you come.  The books I mean,
are those I told you Lady Ailesbury and Mrs. Damer would give
you a particular account of, for they know my mind exactly.
Don't reproach me with not meeting you at Paris.  Recollect
what I suffered this time two years; and, if you can have any
notion of fear, imagine my dread of torture for five months and
a half! When all the quiet of Strawberry did but just carry me
through it, could I support it in the noise of a French hotel!
and, what would be still worse, exposed to receive all visits?
for the French, you know, are never mor in public than in the
act of death.  I am like animals, and love to hide myself when
I am dying.  Thank God, I am now two days beyond the crisis
when I expected my dreadful periodic visitant, and begin to
grow very sanguine about the virtue of the bootikins.  I shall
even have courage to go to-morrow to Chalfont for two days, as
it is but a journey of two hours.  I would not be a day's
journey from hence for all Lord Clive's diamonds.  This will
satisfy you.  I doubt Madame du Deffand is not so easily
convinced--therefore, pray do not drop a hint before her of
blaming me for not meeting you rather assure her you are
persuaded it would have been too great a risk for me at this
season.  I wish to have her quite clear of my attachment to
her; but that I do not always find so easy.  You, I am sure,
will find her all zeal and entpressement for you and yours.
Adieu! Yours ever.


(136) Mr. Fox was returned for Malmesbury.-E.



Letter 77 To The Hon. H. S. Conway.
Strawberry Hill, Oct. 29, 1774. (page 108)

I have received your letter of the 23d, and it certainly
overpays me, when you thank instead of scolding me, as I
feared.  A passionate man has very little merit in being in a
passion, and is sure of saying many things he repents, as I do.
I only hope you think that I could not be so much in the wrong
for every body; nor should have been, perhaps, even for you, if
I had not been certain I was the only person, at that moment,
that could serve you essentially: and at such a crisis, I am
sure I should take exactly the same part again, except in
saying some things I did, of which I am ashamed!(137)  I will
say no more now on that topic, nor on any thing relating to it,
because I have written my mind very fully, and you will know it
soon.  I can only tell you now, that I approve extremely your
way of thinking, and hope you will not change it before you
hear from me, and know some material circumstances.  You and
Lady Ailesbury and I agree exactly, and she and I certainly
consider only you.  I do not answer her last, because I could
not help telling you how very kindly I take your letter.  All I
beg is, that you would have no delicacy about my serving you
any way.  You know it is a pleasure to me: any body else may
have views that would embarrass you; and, therefore, till you
are on the spot, and can judge for yourself (which I always
insist on, because you are cooler than I, and because, though I
have no interests to serve, I have passions, which equally
mislead one,) it will be wiser to decline all kind of proposals
and offers.  You will avoid the plague of contested elections
and solicitations: and I see no reasons, at present, that can
tempt you to be in a hurry.(138)

You must not expect to be Madame du Deffand's first favourite.
Lady Ailesbury has made such a progress there, that you will
not easily supplant her.  I have received volumes in her
praise.(139)  You have a better chance with Madame de Cambis,
who is very agreeable; and I hope you are not such an English
husband as not to conform to the manners of Paris while you are
there.

I forgot to mention one or two of my favourite objects to Lady
Ailesbury, nay, I am not sure she will taste one of them, the
church of the C`elestines. it is crowded with beautiful old
tombs; one of Francis II. whose beatitude is presumed from his
being husband of the martyr Mary Stuart. - Another is of the
first wife of John Duke of Bedford, the Regent Of France. I
think you was once there with me formerly. The other is
Richelieu's tomb, at the Sorbonne--but that every body is
carried to see. The H`otel de Carnavalet,(140) near the Place
Royale, is worth looking at, even for the fa`cade, as you drive
by.  But of all earthly things the most worth seeing is the
house at Versailles, where the King's pictures, not hung up,
are kept.  There is a treasure past belief, though in sad
order. and piled one against another.  Monsieur de Guerchy once
carried me thither; and you may certainly get leave.  At the
Luxembourg are some hung up, and one particularly is worth
going to see alone: it is the Deluge by Nicolo Poussin, as
winter.  The three other seasons are good for nothing: but the
Deluge is the first picture in the world of its kind.  You will
be shocked to see the glorious pictures at the Palais Royal
transplanted to new canvasses, and new painted and varnished,
as if they were to be scenes at the Opera-at least, they had
treated half-a-dozen of the best so, three years ago, and were
going on.  The Prince of Monaco has a few fine, but still worse
used; one of them shines more than a looking glass.  I fear the
exposition of pictures is over for this year; it is generally
very diverting.(141)  I, who went into every church of Paris,
can assure you there are few worth it, but the Invalids-except
the scenery at St. Roch, about one or two o'clock at noon, when
the sun shines; the Carmelites, for the Guido and the portrait
of Madame de la Vali`ere as a Magdalen; the Val de Grace, for a
moment; the treasure at Notre Dame; the Sainte Chapelle, where
in the ante-chapel are two very large enamelled portraits; the
tomb of Cond`e at the Great Jesuits in the Rue St. Antoine, if
not shut up; and the little church of St. Louis in the Louvre,
where is a fine tomb of Cardinal Fleury, but large enough to
stand on Salisbury-plain.  One thing some of u must remember,
as you return; nay, it is better to go soon to St. Denis, and
Madame du Deffand must get you a particular order to be shown
(which is never shown without) the effigies of the Kings.(142)
They are in presses over the treasure which is shown, and where
is the glorious antique cameo-cup; but the countenance of
Charles IX. is so horrid and remarkable, you would think he had
died on the morrow of the St. Barthelemi, and waked full of the
recollection.  If you love enamels and exquisite medals, get to
see the collection of a Monsieur d'Henery, who lives in the
corner of the street where Sir John Lambert lives--I forget its
name.  There is an old man behind the Rue de Colombier, who has
a great but bad collection of old French portraits; I delighted
in them, but perhaps you would not.  I, you may be sure, hunted
out every thing of that sort.  The convent and collection of
St. Germain, I mean that over against the H`otel du Parc Royal,
is well worth seeing--but I forget names strangely--Oh!
delightful!--Lord Cholmondeley sends me word he goes to Paris
on Monday: I shall send this and my other letter by him.  It
was him I meant; I knew he was going and had prepared it.

Pray take care to lock up your papers in a strong box that
nobody can open.  They imagine you are at Paris on some
commission, and there is no trusting French hotels or servants.
America is in a desperate situation, The accounts from the
Congress are not expected before the 10th, and expected very
warm.  I have not time to tell you some manoeuvres against them
that will make your blood curdle.  Write to me when you can by
private hands, as I will to you.  There are always English
passing backwards and forwards.

(140)  Where Madame de S`evign`e resided.

(141) He means from their extreme bad taste.

(142) The abbey of St. Denis was shorn of its glories during
the Revolution. On the 16th of October 1793, the coffin of
Louis XV. was taken out of the vaults; and, after a stormy
debate, it was decided to throw the remains of all the kings,
even those of Henry IV. and Louis XIV. which were yet to a
great degree preserved entire, into a pit, to melt down their
leaden coffins on the spot, and to take
away and cast into bullets whatever
lead remained in the church; not even excepting the roof.-E.



Letter 78 To The Countess Of Ailesbury.
Strawberry Hill, Nov. 7, 1774. (page 110)

I have written such tomes to Mr.  Conway, Madam, and have so
nothing new to write, that I might as well, methinks, begin and
like the lady to her husband: "Je vous `ecris parce que je n'ai
rien `a faire: je finis parce que je n'ai rien `a vous dire."
Yes, I have two complaints to make, one of your ladyship, the
other of myself.  You tell me nothing of Lady Harriet; have you
no tongue, or the French no eyes? or are her eyes employed in
nothing but seeing?  What a vulgar employment for a fine
woman's eyes, after she has risen from her toilet! I declare I
will ask no more questions--what is it to me, whether she is
admired or not?  I should know how charming she is, though all
Europe were blind.  I hope I am not to be told by any barbarous
nation upon earth what beauty and grace are.

For myself, I am guilty of the gout in my elbow; the left-
-witness my handwriting.  Whether I caught cold by the deluge
in the night, or whether the bootikins, like the water of Styx,
can only preserve the parts they surround, I doubt they have
saved me but three weeks, for so long my reckoning has been
out.  However, as I feel nothing in my feet, I flatter myself
that this Pindaric transition will not be a regular ode, but a
fragment, the more valuable for being imperfect.

Now for my gazette.--Marriages--Nothing done.  Intrigues--More
in the political than civil way.  Births--Under par since Lady
Berkeley left off breeding.  Gaming--Low water.  Deaths--Lord
Morton, Lord Wentworth, Duchess Douglas.  Election stock--More
buyers than sellers.  Promotions--Mr. Wilkes as high as he can
go.--Apropos, he was told the Lord Chancellor intended to
signify to him, that the King did not approve the City's
choice: he replied, "Then I shall signify to his lordship, that
I am at least as fit to be Lord Mayor as he to be Lord
Chancellor."  This being more gospel than every thing Mr.
Wilkes says, the formal approbation was given.

Mr. Burke has succeeded in Bristol, and Sir James Peachey will
miscarry in Sussex.  But what care you, Madam, about our
Parliament?  You will see the rentr`ee of the old one, with
songs and epigrams into the bargain.  We do not shift our
Parliaments with so much gaiety.  Money in one hand, and abuse
in t'other--those are all the arts we know.  Wit and a gamut I
don't believe ever signified a Parliament,(143) whatever the
glossaries may say; for they never produce pleasantry and
harmony.  Perhaps you may not taste this Saxon pun, but I know
it will make the Antiquarian Society die with laughing.

Expectation hangs on America.  The result of the general
assembly is expected in four or five days.  If one may believe
the papers, which one should not believe, the other side of the
waterists are not doux comme des moutons, and yet we do intend
to eat them.  I was in town on Monday; the Duchess of Beaufort
graced our loo, and made it as rantipole as a Quaker's meeting.
Louis Quinze ,(144) I believe, is arrived by this time, but I
fear without quinze louis.

Your herb-snuff and the four glasses are lying in my warehouse,
but I can hear of no ship going to Paris.  You are now at
FOntainbleau, but not thinking of Francis 1.  the Queen of
Sweden, and Monaldelschi.  It is terrible that one cannot go to
courts that are gone!  You have supped with the Chevalier de
Boufflers: did he act every thing in the world, and sing every
thing in the world, and laugh at every thing in the world? Has
Madame de Cambis sung to you "Sans d`epit, sans
l`egert`e?"(145)  Has Lord Cholmondeley delivered my pacquet?
I hear I have hopes of Madame d'Olonne.(146) Gout or no gout, I
shall be little in town till after Christmas.  My elbow makes
me bless myself that I am not at Paris.  Old age is no such
uncomfortable thing, if one gives oneself up to it with a good
grace, and don't drag it about

"To midnight dances and the public show."

If one stays quietly in one's own house in the country, and
cares for nothing but oneself, scolds one's servants, condemns
every thing that is new, and recollects how charming a thousand
things were formerly that were very disagreeable, one gets over
the winters very well, and the summers get over themselves.

(143) Witenagemoot.

(144) This was a cant name given to Lady Powis, who was very
fond of loo, and had lost much money at the game.

(145) The first words of a favourite French air.

(146) The Portrait in enamel of Madame d'Olonne by Petitot,
which Walpole afterwards purchased.-E.



Letter 79 To The Earl Of Strafford.
Strawberry Hill, Nov. 11, 1774. (page 112)

I am sorry there is still time, my dear lord, to write to you
again; and that though there is, I have so little to amuse you
with.  One is not much nearer news for being within ten miles
of London than if in Yorkshire; and besides, whatever reaches
us, Lady Greenwich catches at the rebound before me, and Sends
you before I can.  Our own circle furnishes very little.
Dowagers are good for propagating news when planted, but have
done with sending forth suckers.  Lady Blandford's coffee-house
is removed to town, and the Duchess of Newcastle's is little
frequented, but by your sister Anne, Lady Browne, and me.  This
morning, indeed, I was at a very fine concert at old Franks's
at Isleworth, and heard Leoni,(147) who pleased me more than
any thing I have heard these hundred years.  There is a full
melancholy melody in his voice, though a falsetto, that nothing
but a natural voice ever compasses.  Then he sung songs of
Handel in the genuine simple style, and did not put one in pain
like rope-dancers.  Of the Opera I hear a dismal account; for I
did not go to it to sit in our box like an old King dowager by
myself.  Garrick is treating the town, as it deserves and likes
to be treated, with scenes, fireworks, and his own writing.  A
good new play I never expect to see more, nor have seen since
The Provoked Husband, which came out when I was at school.

Bradshaw is dead, they say by his own hand: I don't know
wherefore.  I was told it was a great political event.  If it
is, our politics run as low as our plays.  From town I heard
that Lord Bristol was taken speechless with a stroke of the
palsy.  If he dies, Madam Chudleigh(148) must be tried by her
peers, as she is certainly either duchess or countess.  Mr.
Conway and his company are so pleased with Paris, that they
talk of staying till Christmas.  I am glad; for they will
certainly be better diverted there than here.  Your lordship's
most faithful servant.

(147) Leoni, a celebrated singer of the day, considered one of
the best in England.  He was a Jew, and engaged at the
synagogues, from which he is said to have been dismissed for
singing in the Messiah of Handel.-E.

(148) The Duchess of Kingston; against whom an indictment for
bigamy was found on the 8th of December, she having married the
Duke of Kingston, having been previously married to the Hon.
Augustus John Hervey, then living, and who, by the death of his
brother, in March, 1775, became Earl of Bristol.-E.



Letter 80 To The Hon. H. S. Conway.
Strawberry Hill, Nov. 12, 1774. (page 112)

I have received a delightful letter from you of four sheets,
and another since.  I shall not reply to the campaigning part
(though much obliged to you for it), because I have twenty
other subjects -more pressing to talk of The first is to thank
you for your excessive goodness to my dear old friend-she has
some indiscretions, and you must not have any to her; but she
has the best heart in the world, and I am happy,, at her great
age, that she has spirits enough not to he always upon her
guard.  A bad heart, especially after long experience,, is but
too apt to overflow inwardly with prudence.  At least, as I am
but too like her, and have corrected too few of my faults, I
would fain persuade myself that some of them flow from a good
principle--but I have not time to talk of myself, though you
are much too Partial to me, and give me an opportunity; yet I
shall not take it.

Now for English news, and then your letter again.  There has
been a great mortality here; though Death has rather been pri`e
than a volunteer.  Bradshaw, as I told Lady Ailesbury last
post, shot himself.  He is dead, totally undone.  Whether that
alone was the cause, or whether he had not done something
worse, I doubt.  I cannot conceive that, with his resources, he
should have been hopeless--and, to suspect him of delicacy,
impossible!

 A ship is arrived from America, and I doubt with very bad
news; for none but trifling letters have yet been given out-
-but I am here, see nobody that knows any thing,,and only hear
by accident from people that drop in.  The sloop that is to
bring the result of the general assembly is not yet come.
There are indeed rumours, that both the non-importation, and
even non-exportation have been decreed, and that the flame is
universal.  I hope this is exaggerated!  yet I am told the
stocks will fall very much in a day or two.

I have nothing to tell Lady Ailesbury, but that I hear a
deplorable account of the Opera.  There is a new puppet-show at
Drury Lane, as fine as scenes can make it, called "The Maid of
the Oaks,"(149) and as dull as the author could not help making
it.

Except M. d'Herouville, I know all the people you name.  C. I
doubt, by things I have heard formerly, may have been a
concessionnaire.  The Duke, your protecteur(150) is mediocre
enough; You would have been more pleased with his wife.  The
Chevalier's(151) bon-mot is excellent, and so is he.  He has as
much buffonnerie as the Italians, With more wit and novelty.
His impromptu verses often admirable.  Get Madame du Deffand to
show you his embassy to the Princess Christine, and his verses
on his eldest uncle, beginning Si Monsieur de Veau.  His second
uncle has parts, but they are not so natural.  Madame de
Caraman is a very good kind of woman, but has not a quarter of
her sister's parts.(152)  Madame de Mirepoix is the agreeable
woman of the world when she pleases-but there, must not be a
card in the room.  Lord * * * * has acted like himself; that
is, unlike any body else.  You know, I believe, that I think
him a very good spetcr; but I have little opinion of his
judgment and knowledge of the world, and a great Opinion of his
affectation and insincerity.  The Abb`e Raynal, though he wrote
that fine work on the Commerce des Deux Indes, is the most
tiresome creature in the world.  The first time I met him was
at the dull Baron d'Olbach's: we were twelve at table: I
dreaded opening My Mouth in French, before so many people and
so many servants: he began questioning me, cross the table,
about our colonies, which I understand as little as I do
Coptic.  I made him signs I was deaf.  After dinner, he found I
was not, and never forgave me.  Mademoiselle do Raucoux I never
saw till you told me Madame du Deffand said she was d`emoniaque
sans chaleur! What painting! I see her now.  Le Kain sometimes
pleased me, oftener not.  Mol`e is charming in genteel, or in
pathetic comedy, and would be fine in tragedy, if he was
stronger.  Preville is always perfection.  I like his wife in
affected parts, though not animated enough.  There was a
delightful woman who did the Lady Wishforts, I don't know if
there still, I think her name Mademoiselle Drouin; and a fat
woman, rather elderly, who sometimes acted the soubrette.  But
you have missed the Dumenil, and Caillaut! What irreparable
losses!  Madame du Deffand, perhaps--I don't know--could obtain
your hearing the Clairon, yet the Dumenil was infinitely
preferable.

I could now almost find in my heart to laugh at you for liking
Boutin's garden.(153)  Do you know, that I drew a plan of it,
as the completest absurdity I ever saw.  What! a river that
wriggles at right angles through a stone gutter, with two tansy
puddings that were dug out of it, and three or four beds in a
row, by a corner of the wall, with samples of grass, corn, and
of en friche, like a tailor's paper of patterns! And you like
this! I will tell Park-place--Oh! I had forgot your audience in
dumb show--Well, as Madame de S`evign`e said, "Le Roi de
Prusse, c'est le plus grand Roi du monde still."(154)  My love
to the old Parliament; I don't love new ones.

I went several times to Madame do Monconseil's, who is just
what you say.  Mesdames de Tingri et de la Vauguion I never
saw: Madame de Noailles once or twice, and enough.  You say
something of Madame de Mallet, which I could not read; for, by
the way, your brother and I agree that you are grown not to
write legibly: is that lady in being? I knew her formerly.
Madame de Blot(155) I know, and Monsieur de Paulmy I know; but
for Heaven's sake who is Colonel Conway?(156)  Mademoiselle
Sanadon is la sana donna, and not Mademoiselle Celadon,(157) as
you call her.  Pray assure my good Monsieur Schouwalov(158)of
my great regard: he is one of the best of beings.

I have said all I could, at least all I should.  I reserve the
rest of my paper for a postscript; for this is but Saturday,
and my letter cannot depart till Tuesday: but I could not for
one minute defer answering your charming volumes, which
interest me so much.  I grieve for Lady Harriet's swelled face,
and wish for both their sakes .She could transfer it to her
father.  I assure her I meant nothing by desiring you to see
the verses to the Princess Christine,(159) wherein there is
very profane mention of a pair of swelled cheeks.  I hear
nothing of Madame d'Olonne.  Oh! make Madame du Deffand show
you the sweet portrait of Madame de Prie, the Duke of Bourbon's
mistress.  Have you seen Madame de Monaco, and the remains of
Madame de Brionne? If -you wish to see Mrs. A * * *, ask for
the Princesse de Ligne.  If you have seen Monsieur de Maurepas,
you have seen the late Lord Hardwicke.(160) By your not naming
him, I suppose the Duc de Nivernois, is not at Paris.  Say a
great deal for me to M. de Guisnes..  You will not see my
passion, the Duchess de Chatillon.  if You see Madame de
Nivernois, you will think the Duke of Newcastle is come to life
again.  Alas! where is my Postscript? Adieu! Yours ever.

(149) Written by General Burgoyne.  Walpole's opinion of the
General's abilities as a writer totally changed upon the
appearance of "The Heiress", which he always called the
greatest comedy in the English language.-E.

(150) The Duc de la Vali`ere: whom Mr. Conway had said, that,
when presented to him, "his reception was what might be called
good but rather de protection."

(151) The Chevalier de Boufflers; well known for his "Letters
from Switzerland," addressed to his mother; his "Reine de
Golconde," a tale; and a number of very pretty vers de
soci`et`e.-E.

(152) Madame de Cambis.-E.

(153) See another ludicrous description of this garden in a
letter to Mr. Chute; ante, P. 55, letter 31.-E.

(154) This alludes to Mr. Conway's presentation to the King of
France, Louis XVI. at Fontainbleau, of which, in his letter to
Mr. Walpole he gives the following account:-- "on St. Hubert's
day in the morning I had the honour of being presented to the
King: 'twas a good day, and an excellent deed.  You may be sure
I was well received! the French are so polite! and their court
so Polished!  The Emperor, indeed, talked to me every day; so
did the King of Prussia, regularly and much; but that was not
to be compared to the extraordinary reception of his most
Christian Majesty, who, when I was presented, did not stop nor
look to see what sort of an animal was offered to his notice,
but carried his head, as it seemed, somewhat higher, and passed
his way."

(155) Wife Of M. Chavigny de Blot, attached to the service of
the Duke of Orleans: she Was sister to the Comte d'Hennery, who
died at St. Domingo, where he was commander-in-chief.

(156) An officer in the French service.

(157) Mademoiselle Sanadon, a lady who lived with Madame du
Deffand.  She was niece to the P`ere Sanadon, well known by his
translation of Horace, accompanied with valuable notes, and by
his elegant Poems and orations in the Latin language.-E.

(158) The Russian minister at Paris.
 See vol. iii., Letter to the Earl of Hertford, March 26, 1765,
letter 245.  Madame du Deffand thus describes the Count in a
letter to Walpole:--"Je trouve notre bon ami un peu ennuyeux;
il n'a nulle inflexion dans la parole, nul mouvement dans
l'`ame; ce qu'il dit est une lecture sans p`en`etration."-E.

(159) BY the Chevalier do Boufflers.


(160) He means, from their personal resemblance.



Letter 81 To The Hon. H. S. Conway.
Arlington Street, Nov. 27, 1774. (page 115)

I have received your delightful Plump packet with a letter of
six pages, one from Madame du Deffand, the Eloges,(161) and the
Lit de Justice.  Now, observe my gratitude: I appoint you my
resident at Paris, but you are not to resemble all our
ministers abroad, and expect to live at home, which would
destroy my Lord Castlecomer's(162) view in your staying at
Paris.  However, to prove to you that I have some gratitude
that is not totally selfish, I will tell you what little news I
know, before I answer your letter; for English news, to be
sure, is the most agreeable circumstance in a letter from
England.

On my coming to town yesterday, there was nothing but more
deaths--don't you think we have the plague? The Bishop of
Worcester,(163) Lord Breadalbane, Lord Strathmore.  The first
fell from his horse, or with his horse, at Bath, and the
bishopric was incontinently given to Bishop North.

America is still more refractory, and I doubt will outvote the
ministry.  They have picked General Gage's pocket of three
pieces of cannon,(164) and intercepted some troops that were
going to him.  Sir William Draper is writing plans of
pacification in our newspapers; and Lord Chatham flatters
himself that he shall be sent for when the patient is given
over; which I don't think at all unlikely to happen.  My poor
nephew is very political too: so we shall not want mad doctors.
Apropos, I hear Wilkes says he will propose Macreth for
Speaker.

The Ecclesiastical Court are come to a resolution that the
Duchess of Kingston is Mrs. Hervey; and the sentence will be
public in a -fortnight.  It is not so certain that she will
lose the estate.  Augustus(165) is not in a much more pleasant
predicament than she is.  I saw Lord Bristol last night: he
looks perfectly well, but his speech is much affected, and his
right hand.

Lady Lyttelton, who, you know, never hears any thing that has
happened, wrote to me two days ago, to ask if it would not be
necessary for you to come over for the meeting of the
Parliament.  I answered, very gravely, that to be sure you
ought: but though Sir James Morgan threatened you loudly with a
petition, yet, as it could not be heard till after Christmas, I
was afraid you could not be persuaded to come sooner.  I hope
she will inquire who Sir James Morgan is, and that people will
persuade her she has made a confusion about Sir James Peachy.
Now for your letter.

I have been in the Chambre de Parlement, I think they call it
the Grande Chambre; and was shown the corner in which the
monarchs sit, and do not wonder you did not guess where it was
they sat.  It is just like the dark corner, under the window,
where I always sat in the House of Commons.  What has happened,
has passed exactly according to my ideas.  When one King breaks
one parliament, and another, what can the result be but
despotism? or of what else is it a proof? If a Tory King
displaces his father's Whig lord
chamberlain, neither lord chamberlain has the more or the less
power ,over the theatres and court mournings and birthday
balls.  All that can arrive is, that the people will be still
more attached to the old parliament, from this seeming
restitution of a right--but the people must have some power
before their attachment can signify a straw.  The old
parliament, too, may some time or other give itself more airs
on this confession of right; but that too cannot be but in a
minority, when the power of the crown is lessened by reasons
that have nothing to do with the parliament.  I will answer for
it, they will be too grateful to give umbrage to their
restorer.  Indeed, I did not think the people would be so
quick-sighted at once, as to see the distinction of old and new
was without difference.  Methinks France and England are like
the land and the sea; one gets a little sense when the other
loses it.

I am quite satisfied with all you tell me about my friend.  My
intention is certainly to see her again, if I am able; but I am
too old to lay plans, especially when it depends on the despot
gout to register or cancel them.  It is even melancholy to see
her, when it will probably be but once more; and still more
melancholy, when we ought to say to one another, in a different
sense from the common, au revoir! However, as mine is a pretty
cheerful kind of philosophy, I think the best way is to think
of dying, but to talk and act as if one was not to die; or else
one tires other people, and dies before one's time.  I have
truly all the affection and attachment for her that she
deserves from me, or I should not be so very thankful as I am
for your kindness to her.  The Choiseuls will certainly return
at Christmas, and will make her life much more agreeable.  The
Duchess has as much attention to her as I could have; but that
will not keep me from making her a visit.

I have only seen, not known, the younger Madame de Boufflers.
For her musical talents, I am little worthy of them-yet I am
just going to Lady Bingham's to hear the Bastardella, whom,
though the first singer in Italy, Mrs. Yates could not or would
not agree with,(166) and she is to have twelve hundred pounds
for singing twelve times at the Pantheon, where, if she had a
voice as loud as Lord Clare's, she could not be heard.  The two
bon-mots You sent me are excellent; but, alas! I had heard them
both before; consequently your own, which is very good too,
pleased me much more.  M. de Stainville I think you will not
like: he has sense, but has a dry military harshness, that at
least did not suit me--and then I hate his barbarity to his
Wife.(167)

You was very lucky indeed to get one of the sixty tickets.(168)
Upon the whole, your travels have been very fortunate, and the
few mortifications amply compensated.  If a Duke(169) has been
spiteful when your back was turned, a hero-king has been all
courtesy.  If another King has been silent, an emperor has been
singularly gracious- -Frowns or silence may happen to anybody:
the smiles have been addressed to you particularly.  So was the
ducal frown indeed-but would you have earned a smile at the
price set on it? One cannot do right and be always applauded--
but in such cases are not frowns tantamount?

As my letter will not set forth till the day after to-morrow, I
reserve the rest for my additional news, and this time will
reserve it.

St. Parliament's day, 29th, after breakfast.

The speech is said to be firm, and to talk of the
rebellion(170) of our province of Massachusetts.  No sloop is
yet arrived to tell us how to call the rest.  Mr. Van(171) is
to move for the expulsion of Wilkes; which will distress, and
may produce an odd scene.  Lord Holland is certainly dead; the
papers say, Robinson too, but that I don't know--so many deaths
of late make report kill to right and left.

(161) Two rival Eloges of Fontenelle, by ChamPfort and La
Harpe.-E.

(162) A cant phrase of Mr. Walpole's; which took its rise from
the following story:--The tutor of a young Lord Castlecomer,
who lived at Twickenham with his mother, having broken his leg,
and somebody pitying the poor man to Lady Castlecomer, she
replied, "Yes indeed, it is very inconvenient to my Lord
Castlecomer."-E.

(163) Dr. James Johnson.-E.

(164) The seizure of Fort William and Mary, near Portsmouth, in
New Hampshire, by the provincial militia, in which they found
many barrels of gunpowder, several pieces of cannon, etc.-E.

(165) Augustus Hervey, to whom she was first married.

(166) Mrs. Yates was at this time joint manager of the Opera
with Mrs. Brook.  In November 1773, she spoke a Poetical
exordium, by which it appeared that she intended mixing plays
with operas, and entertaining the public with singing and
declamation alternately; but permission could not be obtained
from the Lord Chamberlain to put this plan into execution.-E.

(167) Upon a suspicion OF gallantry with Clairval, an actor,
she was confined for life in the convent Of les filles de
Sainte Marie, at Nancy.-E.

(168) To see the Lit de Justice held by Louis XVI. when he
recalled the Parliament of Paris, at the instigation of the
Chancellor Maupeou, and suppressed the new one of their
creation.

(169) The Duke de Choiseul.

(170) The King's Speech announced, "that a most daring spirit
of resistance and disobedience to the law still unhappily
prevailed in the province of Massachusett's Bay;" and expressed
the King's "firm and steadfast resolution to withstand every
attempt to weaken or impair the supreme authority Of this
legislature over all the dominions of his crown: the
maintenance of which he considered as essential to the dignity,
the safety, and welfare of the British empire."-E.

(171) Charles Van, Esq. member for Brecon town.  No motion for
the expulsion of Wilkes took place.-E.



Letter 82 To The Hon. H. S. Conway.
Arlington Street, Dec. 15, 1774. (page 118)

As I wrote to Lady Ailesbury but on Tuesday, I should not have
followed it so soon with this, if I had nothing to tell you but
of myself.  My gouts are never dangerous, and the shades of
them not important.  However, to despatch this article at once,
I will tell you, that the, pain I felt yesterday in my elbow
made me think all former pain did not deserve the name.
Happily the torture did not last above two hours; and, which is
more surprising, it is all the real pain I have felt; for
though my hand has been as sore as if flayed, and that both
feet are lame, the bootikins demonstrably prevent or extract
the sting of it, and I see no reason not to expect to get out
in a fortnight more.  Surely, if I am laid up but one month in
two years, instead of five or six, I have reason to think the
bootikins sent from heaven.

The long expected sloop is arrived at last, and is indeed a man
of war!  The General Congress have voted a non-importation, a
non-exportation, a non-consumption; that, in case of
hostilities committed by the troops at Boston, the several
provinces will march to the assistance of their countrymen;
that the cargoes of ships now at sea shall be sold on their
arrival, and the money arising thence given to the poor at
Boston.; that a letter, in the nature of a petition of rights,
shall be sent to the King; another to the House of Commons; a
third to the people of England; a demand of repeal of all the
acts of Parliament affecting North America passed during this
reign, as also of the Quebec-bill: and these resolutions not to
be altered till such repeal is obtained.

Well, I believe you do not regret being neither in parliament
nor in administration!  As you are an idle man, and have
nothing else to do, you may sit down and tell one a remedy for
all this.  Perhaps you will give yourself airs, and say you was
a prophet, and that prophets are not honoured in their own
country.  Yet, if you have any inspiration about you, I assure
you it will be of great service-we are at our wit's end-which
was no great journey.  Oh! you conclude Lord Chatham's crutch
will be supposed a wand, and be sent for.  They might as well
send for my crutch; and they should not have it; the stile is a
little too high to help them over.  His Lordship is a little
fitter for raising a storm than laying one, and of late seems
to have lost both virtues.  The Americans at least have acted
like men,(172) gone to the"bottom at once, and set the whole
upon the whole.  Our conduct has been that of pert children: we
have thrown a pebble at a mastiff, and are surprised that it
was not frightened.  Now we must kill the guardian of the house
which will be plundered the moment little master has nothing
but the old nurse to defend it.  But I have done with
reflections; you will be fuller of them than I.

(172) "I have not words to express my satisfaction," says Lord
Chatham in a letter of the 24th, "that the Congress has
conducted this most arduous and delicate business with such
manly Wisdom and calm resolution, as do the highest honour to
their deliberations.  Very few are the things contained in
their resolves, that I could wish had been otherwise."
Correspondence, vol. ii, p. 368.-$.



Letter 83 To The Hon. H. S. Conway.
Arlington Street, Dec. 26, 1774. (page 119)

I begin my letter to-day, to prevent the fatigue of dictating
two to-morrow.  In the first and best place, I am very near
recovered; that is, though still a mummy, I have no pain left,
nor scarce any sensation of gout except in my right hand, which
is still in complexion and shape a lobster's claw.  Now, unless
any body can prove to me that three weeks are longer than five
months and a half, they will hardly convince me that the
bootikins are not a cure for fits of the gout and a Very short
cure, though they cannot prevent it: nor perhaps is it to be
wished they should; for, if the gout prevents every thing else,
would not one have something that does?  I have but one single
doubt left about the bootikins, which is, whether they do not
weaken my breast: but as I am sensible that my own spirits do
half the mischief, and that, if I could have held my tongue,
and kept from talking and dictating letters, I should not have
been half so bad as I have been, there remains but half due to
bootikins on the balance: and surely the ravages of the last
long fit, and two years more in age, ought to make another
deduction.  Indeed, my forcing myself to dictate my last letter
to you almost killed me; and since the gout is not dangerous to
me, if I am kept perfectly quiet, my good old friend must have
patience, and not insist upon letters from me but when it is
quite easy to me to send them.  So much for me and my gout.  I
will now endeavour to answer such parts of your last letters as
I can in this manner, and considering how difficult it is to
read your writing in a dark room.

I have not yet been able to look into the French harangues you
sent me.  Voltaire's verses to Robert Covelle are not only very
bad, but very contemptible.

I am delighted with all the honours you receive, and with all
the amusements they procure you, which is the best part of
honours.  For the glorious part, I am always like the man in
Pope's Donne,

"Then happy he who shows the tombs, said I."

That is, they are least troublesome there.  The
serenissime(173) you met at Montmorency is one of the least to
my taste; we quarrelled about Rousseau, and I never went near
him after my first journey.  Madame du Deffand will tell you
the story, if she has not forgotten it.

It is supposed here, that the new proceedings of the French
Parliament will produce great effects: I don't suppose any such
thing.  What America will produce I know still less; but
certainly something very serious.  The merchants have summoned
a meeting for the second of next month, and the petition from
the Congress to the King is arrived.  The heads have been shown
to Lord Dartmouth; but I hear one of the agents is again
presenting it; yet it is thought it will be delivered, and then
be ordered to be laid before Parliament.  The whole affair has
already been talked of there on the army and navy-days; and
Burke, they say, has shone with amazing Wit and ridicule on the
late inactivity of Gage, and his losing his cannon and straw;
on his being entrenched in a town with an army of observation;
with that army being, as Sir William Meredith had said, an
asylum for magistrates, and to secure the port.  Burke said, he
had heard of an asylum for debtors and whores, never for
magistrates; and of ships never of armies securing a port.
This is all there has been in Parliament, but elections.
Charles Fox's place did not come into question.  Mr. * * *, who
is one of the new elect, has opened, but with no success.
There is a seaman, Luttrell,(174) that promises much better.

I am glad you like the Duchess de Lauzun:(175) she is one of my
favourites.  The H`otel du Chatelet promised to be very fine,
but was not finished when I was last at Paris.  I was much
pleased with the person that slept against St. Lambert's poem:
I wish I had thought of the nostrum, when Mr. Seward, a
thousand years ago, at Lyons, would read an epic poem to me
just as I had received a dozen letters from England.  St.
Lambert is a great Jackanapes, and a very tiny genius: I
suppose the poem was The Seasons, which is four fans spun out
into a Georgic.  If I had not been too ill, I should have
thought of bidding you hear midnight mass on Christmas-eve in
Madame du Deffand's tribune, as I used to do.  To be sure, you
know that her apartment was part of Madame du Montespan's,
whose arms are on the back of the grate in Madame du Deffand's
own bedchamber.  Apropos, ask her to show you Madame de Prie's
pinture, M. le Duc's mistress--I am very fond of it--and make
her tell you her history.(176)

I have but two or three words more.  Remember my parcel of
letters from Madame du Deffand,(177) and pray remember this
injunction not to ruin yourselves in bringing presents.  A very
slight fairing of a guinea or two obliges as much,
is much more fashionable, and not a moment sooner forgotten
than a magnificent one; and then you may very cheaply oblige
the more persons; but as the sick fox, in Gay's Fables, says
(for one always excepts oneself),

"A chicken too might do me good."

i allow you to go as far as three or even five guineas for a
snuff-box for me; and then, as ***** told the King, when he
asked for the reversion of the lighthouse for two lives, and
the King reproached him, with having always advised him against
granting reversions; he replied, "Oh! Sir, but if your Majesty
will give me this, I will take care you shall never give away
another."  Adieu, with my own left hand.

(173) The Prince de Conti.

(174) The Hon. James Luttrell, fourth son of Lord Irnham, a
lieutenant in the navy.-E.

(175) She became Duchesse de Biron upon the death of her
husband's uncle, the Marechal Duke de Biron.  See vol. iii.,
Letter to John Montagu, Feb. 4, 1766, letter 294.  Her person
is thus described by Rousseau:--"Am`elie de Boufflers a une
figure, une douceur, une timidit`e devierge: rien de plus
aimable et de plus int`eressant que sa figure; rien de plus
tendre et de plus chaste que
les sentiments qu'elle inspire."-E.

(176) Madame de Prie was the mistress of the Regent Duke of
Orleans.  A full account of her family, character, etc. will be
found in Duclos's Memoirs.-E.

(177) At Walpole's earnest solicitation, Madame du Deffand
returned by General Conway all the letters she had received
from him.  In so doing, she thus wrote to him:--"Vous aurez
longtemps de quoi allumer votre feu, surtout si vous joignez `a
ce que j'avais de vous avez de moi, et rien ne serait plus
juste: mais je m'en rapporte `a votre prudence; je ne suivrai
pas l'exemple de m`efiance que vous me donnez."-E.



Letter 84 To The Hon. H. S. Conway.
Arlington Street, Dec. 31, 1774. (page 121)

No child was ever so delighted to go into breeches, as I was
this morning to get on a pair of cloth shoes as big as Jack
Harris's: this joy may be the spirits of dotage-but what
signifies whence one is happy?  Observe, too, that this is
written with my own right hand, with the bootikin actually upon
it, which has no distinction of fingers: so I no longer see any
miracle in Buckinger, who was famous for writing without hands
or feet; as it was indifferent which one uses, provided one has
a pair of either.  Take notice, I write so much better without
fingers than with, that I advise you to try a bootikin.  To be
sure, the operation is a little slower; but to a prisoner, the
duration of his amusement is of far more consequence than the
vivacity of it.

Last night I received your very kind, I might say your letter
tout court, of Christmas-day.  By this time I trust you are
quite out of pain about me.  My fit has been as regular as
possible; only, as if the bootikins were post-horses, it made
the grand tour of all my limbs in three weeks.  If it will
always use the same expedition, I m content it should take the
journey once in two years.  You must not mind my breast: it was
always the weakest part of a very weak system ; yet did not
suffer now by the gout, but in consequence of it; and would not
have been near so bad, if I could have kept from talking and
dictating letters.  The moment I am out of pain, I am in high
spirits ; and though I never take any medicines, there is one
thing absolutely necessary to be put into my mouth--a gag.  At
present, the town is so empty that my tongue is a sinecure.

I am well acquainted with the Biblioth`eque du Roi, and the
medals, and the prints.  I spent an entire day in looking over
the English portraits, and kept the librarian without his
dinner till dark night, till I was satisfied.  Though the
Choiseuls(178) will not acquaint with you, I hope their Abb`e
Barthelemil(179) is not put under the same quarantine.  Besides
great learning, he has infinite wit and polissonnerie and is
one of the best kind of men in the world.  As to the
grandpapa,(180) il ne nous aime pas nous autres, and has never
forgiven Lord Chatham.  Though exceedingly agreeable himself, I
don't think his taste exquisite.  Perhaps I was piqued; but he
seemed to like Wood better than any of US.  Indeed, I am a
little afraid that my dear friend's impetuous zeal may have
been a little too prompt in pressing you upon them d'abord:--
but don't say a word of this--it is her great goodness.--I
thank you a million of times for all yours to her:-she is
perfectly grateful for it.  The Chevalier'S(181) verses are
pretty enough.  I own I like Saurin's(182) much better than you
seem to do.  Perhaps I am prejudiced by the curse on the
Chancellor at the end.

Not a word of news here.  In a sick room one hears all there
is, but I have not even a lie; but as this will not set out
these three days, it is to be hoped some charitable Christian
will tell a body one.  Lately indeed we heard that the King of
Spain had abdicated; but I believe it was some stockjobber that
had deposed him.

Lord George Cavendish, for my solace in my retirement, has
given me a book, the History of his own Furness-abbey, written
by a Scotch ex-Jesuit.(183)  I cannot say that this unnatural
conjunction of a Cavendish and a Jesuit has produced a lively
colt; but I found one passage worth any money.  It is an
extract of a constable's journal kept during the civil war; and
ends thus: "And there was never heard of such troublesome and
distracted times as these five years have been, but especially
for constables."  It is so natural, that inconvenient to my
Lord Castlecomer is scarce a better proverb.

Pray tell Lady Ailesbury that though she has been so very good
to me, I address my letters to you rather than to her, because
my pen is not always-upon its guard, but is apt to say whatever
comes into its nib; and then, if she peeps over your shoulder,
I am cens`e not to know it.  Lady Harriet's wishes have done me
great good: nothing but a father's gout could be obdurate
enough to resist them.  My Mrs. Damer says nothing to me; but I
give her intentions credit, and lay her silence on you.

January 1. 1775.  a happy new year!

I walk!  I walk! walk alone!--I have been five times quite
round my rooms to-day, and my month is not up! The day after
to-morrow I shall go down into the dining-room; the next week
to take the air: and then if Mrs. * * * * is very pressing,
why, I don't know what may happen.  Well! but you want news,
there are none to be had.  They think there is a ship lost with
Gage's despatches.  Lady Temple gives all her diamonds to Miss
Nugent.(184)  Lord Pigot lost 400 pounds the other night at
Princess Amelia's.  Miss Davis(185) has carried her cause
against Mrs. Yates and is to sing again at the Opera.  This is
all my coffee-house furnished this morning.

(178) Mr. Conway and the ladies of his party had met with the
most flattering and distinguished reception at Paris from every
body but the Duc and Duchesse de Choiseul, who rather seemed to
decline their acquaintance.

(179) The author of the Voyage du Jenne Anacharsis.

(180) A name given to the Duc de Choiseul by Madame du Deffand.

(181) Verses written by the Chevalier de Boufflers, to be
presented by Madame du Deffand to the Duke and Duchess of
Choiseul.

(182) They were addressed to M. do Malesherbes, then premier
president de la Cour des Aides; afterwards, still more
distinguished by his having been the intrepid advocate Selected
by the unfortunate Louis the Sixteenth on his trial.  He soon
after perished by the same guillotine, from which he could not
preserve his ill-fated master-E.

(183) "The Antiquities of Furness; or
an account of the Royal Abbey of St. mary, in the vale Of
Nightshade, near Dalton, in Furness." London, 1774 4to.  This
volume, which was dedicated to Lord George Cavendish, Was
written by Thomas West, the antiquary, who was likewise the
author of "A Guide to the Lakes in Cumberland, Westmoreland,
and Lancashire."-E.

(184) Mary, only daughter and heiress
of Robert Earl Nugent, of the kingdom of Ireland.  She was
married, on the 16th of May, 1775, to George Grenville, second
Earl Temple, who then assumed, by royal permission, the
surnames of Nugent and Temple before that of Grenville, and the
privilege of signing Nugent before all titles whatsoever.  In
1784, he was created Marquis of Buckingham.-E.

(185) Cecilia Davis known in Italy by the name of L'Inglesina,
first appeared at the
Opera in 1773.
She was considered on the Continent as second only to Gabrieli,
and in England is said to have been surpassed only by Mrs.
Billington.  She was a pupil of the celebrated Hasse and, after
having taught several crowned heads, died at an advanced age,
and in very distressed circumstances, in 1836.-E.



Letter 85To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Arlington Street, Jan. 9, 1775. (page 124)

I every day intended to thank you for the copy of Nell Gwyn's
letter, till it was too late; the gout came, and Made me moult
my goosequill.  The letter is very curious, and I am as well
content as with the original.  It is lucky you do not care for
news more recent Than the Reformation.  I should have none to
tell you; nay, nor earlier neither.  Mr. Strutt's(186) second
volume I suppose you have seen.  He showed me two or three much
better drawings from pictures in the possession of Mr. Ives.
One of them made me very happy; it is a genuine portrait of
Humphrey, Duke of Gloucester, and is the individual same face
as that I guessed to be his in my Marriage of Henry VI.  They
are infinitely more like each other, than any two modern
portraits of one person by different painters.  I have been
laughed at for thinking the skull of Duke Humphrey at St.
Albans proved my guess; and yet it certainly does, and is the
more like, as the two portraits represent him very bald, with
only a ringlet of hair, as monks have.  Mr. Strutt is going to
engrave his drawings.  Yours faithfully.


(186) His " Complete Views of the Manners, Customs, Arms,
Habits, etc. of the Inhabitants of England from the arrival of
the Saxons till the reign of Henry the VIII.; with a short
Account of the Britons during the Government of the Romans."-E.



Letter 86 To The Hon. H. S. Conway.
Arlington Street, Jan, 15, 1775. (page 124)

You have made me very happy by saying your journey to Naples is
laid aside.  Perhaps it made too great an impression on me; but
you must reflect, that all my life I have satisfied myself with
your being perfect, instead of trying to be so myself.  I don't
ask you to return, though I wish it: in truth there is nothing
to invite you.  I don't want you to come and breathe fire and
sword against the Bostonians, like that second Duke of Alva,
the inflexible Lord George Germain; or to anathematize the
court and its works, like the incorruptible Burke, who scorns
lucre, except when he can buy a hundred thousand acres from
naked Caribs for a song.  I don't want you to do any thing like
a party-man.  I trust you think of every party as I do, with
contempt, from Lord Chatham's mustard-bowl down to Lord
Rockingham's hartshorn.  All, perhaps, will be tried in their
turns, and yet, if they had genius, might not be Mighty enough
to save us.  From some ruin or other I think nobody can, and
what signifies an option of mischiefs?  An account is come of
the Bostonians having voted an army of sixteen thousand men,
who are to be called minute-men, as they are to be ready at a
minute's warning.  Two directors or commissioners, I don't know
what they are called, are appointed.  There has been too a kind
of mutiny in the fifth regiment.  A soldier was found drunk on
his post.  Gage, in his time of danger, thought vigour
necessary, and sent the fellow to a court-martial.  They
ordered two hundred lashes.  The general ordered them to
improve their sentence.  Next day it was published in the
Boston Gazette.  He called them before him, and required them
on oath to abjure the communication, three officers refused.
Poor Gage is to be scape-goat, not for this, but for what was a
reason against employing him, incapacity.  I Wonder at the
precedent!  Howe is talked of for his successor.  Well, I have
done with you!--Now I shall go gossip with Lady Ailesbury

You must know, Madam, that near Bath is erected a new
Parnassus, composed of three laurels,- a myrtle-tree, a
weeping-willow, and a view of the Avon, which has been
new-christened Helicon.  Ten years ago there lived a Madam
Riggs, an old rough humourist who passed for a wit; her
daughter, who passed for nothing, married to a Captain Miller,
full of good-natured officiousness.  These good folks were
friends of Miss Rich,(187) who carried me to dine with them at
Batheaston, now Pindus.  They caught a little of what was then
called taste, built and planted, and begot children, till the
whole caravan- were forced to.  go abroad to retrieve.  Alas!
Mrs.  Miller is returned-' a beauty, a genius, a Sappho, a
Muse, as romantic as Mademoiselle Scuderi, and as sophisticated
as Mrs. Vesey.  The captain's fingers are loaded with cameos,
his tongue runs over with virt`u, and that both may contribute
to the improvement of their own country, they have introduced
bouts-rim`es as a new discovery.  They hold a Parnassus-fair
every Thursday, give out rhymes and themes, and all the flux of
quality at Bath contend for the prizes.  A Roman vase dressed
with pink ribands and myrtles receives the poetry which is
drawn out every festival; six judges of these Olympic games
retire and select the brightest compositions, which the
respective successful acknowledge, kneel to Mrs. Calliope
Miller, kiss her fair hand, and are crowned by it with myrtle,
with--I don't know what.  You may think this is fiction, or
exaggeration.  Be dumb, unbelievers! The collection is printed,
published. (188)  Yes, on my faith, there are bouts-rim`es on a
buttered muffin, made by her grace the Duchess of
Northumberland;(189) receipts to make them by Corydon the
venerable, alias George Pitt; others very pretty, by Lord
Palmerston;(190) some by Lord Carlisle; many by Mrs. Miller
herself, that have no fault but wanting metre; and immortality
promised to her without end or measure.  In short, since folly,
which never ripens to madness but in this hot climate, ran
distracted, there was never any thing so entertaining or so
dull--for you cannot read so long as I have been telling.(191)

January 17.

Before I could finish this, I received your despatches by Sir
Thomas Clarges, and a most entertaining letter in three tomes.
It is being very dull, not to be able to furnish a quarter so
much from your own country-but what can I do? You are embarked
in a new world, and I am living on the scraps of an old one, of
which I am tired.  The best I can do is to reply to your
letter, and not attempt to amuse you when I have nothing to
say.  I think the Parliament meets today, or in a day or
two-but I hope you are coming.  Your brother says so, and
Madame du Deffand says so; and sure it is time to leave Paris,
when you know ninety of the inhabitants.(192)  There seems much
affectation in those that will not know you;(193) and
affectation is always a littleness--it has been even rude: but
to be sure the rudeness one feels least, was that which is
addressed to one before there has been any acquaintance.

Ninon came,(194) because, on Madame du Deffand's mentioning it,
I concluded it a new work, and am disappointed.  I can say this
by heart.  The picture of Madame de Prie, which you don't seem
to value, and so Madame du Deffand says, I believe I shall
dispute with you; I think it charming, but when offered to me
years ago, I would not take it--it was now given to you a
little a mon intention.

 I am sorry that, amongst all the verses you have sent me, you
should have forgotten what you commend the most, Les trois
exclamations.  I hope you will bring them with you.  Voltaire's
are intolerably stupid, and not above the level of officers in
garrison.  Some of M. de Pezay's are very pretty, though there
is too much of them; and in truth I had seen them before.
Those on Madame de la Vali`ere pretty too, but one is a little
tired of Venus and the Graces.  I am most pleased with your
own--and if you have a mind to like them still better, make
Madame du Deffand show you mine, which are neither French, nor
measure, nor metre.  She is unwilling to tell me so-, which
diverts me.  Yours are really genteel and new.

I envy you the Russian Anecdotes(195) more than M. de
Chamfort's Fables, of which I know nothing; and as you say no
more, I conclude I lose not much.  The stories of Sir
Charles(196) are so far not new to me, that I heard them of him
from abroad after he was mad: but I believe no mortal of his
acquaintance ever heard them before; nor did they at all
correspond with his former life, with his treatment of his
wife, or his history with Mrs. Woffington, qui n'`etait pas
dupe.  I say nothing on the other stories you tell me of
billets dropped,(197) et pour cause.

I think I have touched all your paragraphs, and have nothing
new to send you in return.  In truth, I go nowhere but into
private rooms,; for I am not enough recovered to relaunch into
the world, when I have so good an excuse for avoiding it.  The
bootikins have done wonders; but even two or three such
victories will cost too dear.  I submit very patiently to my
lot.  I am old and broken, and it never was my system to impose
upon myself when one can deceive nobody else. I have spirits
enough for my use, that is, amongst my friends and
contemporaries: I like Young people and their happiness for
every thing but to live with; but I cannot learn their
language, nor tell them old stories, of which I must explain
every step as I go.  Politics' the proper resource of age, I
detest--I am Contented, but see few that are so--and I never
will be led by any man's self-interest.  A great scene is
opening, of which I cannot expect to see the end!  I am pretty
sure not a happy end--so that, in short, I am determined to
think the rest of my life but a postscript: and as this has
been too long an One, I will wish You good night, repeating
what you know already, that the return of you three is the most
agreeable prospect I expect to see realized.  Adieu!

(187) Daughter of Sir Robert Rich, and sister to the second
wife of George Lord Lyttelton.

(188) They were published under the title of "Poetical
Amusements at a Villa near Bath."  An edition appeared in 1781,
in four volumes.-E.

(189) "The pen which I now take and brandish
Has long lain useless in my standish.
Know, every maid, from her on patten,
To her who shines in glossy satin,
That could they now prepare an oglio
>From best receipt of book in folio,
Ever so fine, for all their puffing,
I should prefer a butter'd muffin;
A muffin Jove himself might feast on,
If eat with Miller at Batheaston."-E.

(190) The following are the concluding lines of a poem on
Beauty, by Lord Palmerston:--

"In vain the stealing hand of Time
May pluck the blossoms of their prime;
Envy may talk of bloom decay'd,
How lilies droop and roses fade;
But Constancy's unalter'd truth,
Regardful of the vows of youth,
Affection that recalls the past,
And bids the pleasing influence last,
Shall still preserve the lover's flame
In every scene of life the same;
And still with fond endearments blend
The wife, the mistress, and the friend!"-E.

(191) "Lady Miller's collection of verses by fashionable
people, which were put into her vase at Batheaston, in
competition for honourary prizes being mentioned, Dr. Johnson
held them very cheap: 'Bouts-rim`es,' said be, 'is a mere
conceit, and an old conceit; I wonder how people were persuaded
to write in that manner for this lady.'  I named a gentleman of
his acquaintance who wrote for the vase.  Johnson--'He was a
blockhead for his pains!'  Boswell. 'The Duchess of
Northumberland wrote.' Johnson: 'Sir, the Duchess of
Northumberland may do what she pleases; nobody will say any
thing to a lady of her high rank: but I should be apt to throw
* * * *'s verses in his face.'" Boswell. vol. v. p. 227.-E.

(192) Madame du Deffand, writing of General Conway to Walpole,
had said--"Savez-vous combien il connait d`ej`a de personnes
dans Paris?  Quatre.vingt dix.  Il n'est nullement sauvage."-E.

(193) The Duc du Choiseul.

(194) The Life of Ninon de l'Enclos.

(195) The account of the revolution in Russia which placed
Catherine II. on the throne, by M. de la Rulhi`ere, afterwards
Published.  Mr. Conway had heard it read in manuscript in a
private society.

(196) Sir Charles Hanbury Williams.

(197) This alludes to circumstances Mr. Conway mentions as
having taken place at a ball at Versailles.



Letter 87 To The Hon. H. S. Conway.(198)
January 22, 1775. (page 128)

After the magnificent overture for peace from Lord Chatham,
that I announced to Madame du Deffand, you will be most
impatient for my letter.  Ohin`e! you will be sadly
disappointed.  Instead of drawing a circle with his wand round
the House of Lords, and ordering them to pacify America, on the
terms he prescribed before they ventured to quit the
circumference of his commands, he brought a ridiculous,
uncommunicated, unconsulted motion for addressing the King
immediately to withdraw the troops from Boston, as an earnest
of lenient measures.  The Opposition stared and shrugged; the
courtiers stared and laughed.  His own two or three adherents
left him, except Lord Camden and Lord Shelburne, and except
Lord Temple, who is not his adherent and was not there.
Himself was not much animated, but very hostile; particularly
on Lord Mansfield, who had taken care not to be there.  He
talked of three millions of Whigs in America, and told the
ministers they were checkmated and had not a move left to make.
Lord Camden was as strong.  Lord Suffolk was thought to do
better than ever, and Lord Lyttelton's declamation was
commended as usual.  At last, Lord Rockingham, very punily, and
the Duke of Richmond joined and supported the motion; but at
eight at night it was rejected by 68 to 18, though the Duke of
Cumberland voted for it.(199)

This interlude would be only entertaining, if the scene was not
so totally gloomy.  The cabinet have determined on civil war,
and regiments are going from Ireland and our West Indian
islands.  On Thursday the plan of the war is to be laid before
both Houses.  To-morrow the merchants carry their petition;
which, I suppose, will be coolly received, since, if I hear
true, the system is to cut off all traffic with America at
present--as, you know, we can revive it when we please.  There!
there is food for meditation!  Your reflections, as you
understand the subject better than I do, will go further than
mine could.  Will the French you converse with be civil and
keep their countenances?

George Damer(200) t'other day proclaimed your departure for the
25th; but the Duchess of Richmond received a whole cargo of
letters from ye all on Friday night, which talk of a fortnight
or three weeks longer.  Pray remember it is not decent to be
dancing at Paris, when there is a civil war in your own
country.  You would be like the Country squire, who passed by
with his hounds as the battle of Edgehill began.

January 24.

I am very sorry to tell you the Duke of Gloucester is dying.
About three weeks ago the physicians said it was absolutely
necessary for him to go abroad immediately.  He dallied, but
was actually preparing.  He now cannot go, and probably will
not live many days, as he has had two shivering fits, and the
physicians give the Duchess no hopes.(201)  Her affliction and
courage are not to be described; they take their turns as she
is in the room with him or not.  His are still greater.  His
heart is broken, and yet his firmness and coolness amazing.  I
pity her beyond measure; and it is not a time to blame her
having accepted an honour which so few women could have
resisted, and scarce one ever has resisted.

The London and Bristol merchants carried their petitions
yesterday to the House of Commons.  The Opposition contended
for their being heard by the committee of the whole House, who
are to consider the American papers; but the Court sent them to
a committee(202) after a debate till nine at night, with
nothing very remarkable, on divisions of 197 to 81, and 192 to
65.  Lord Stanley(203) spoke for the first time; his voice and
manner pleased, but his matter was not so successful.
Dowdeswell(204 is dead, and Tom Hervey.(205)  The latter sent
for his Wife and acknowledged her.  Don't forget to inform me
when my letters must stop.  Adieu! Yours ever.

(198) Now first printed.

(199) In the Chatham correspondence will be found another, and
a very different, account of this debate, in a letter to Lady
Chatham, from their son William:--"Nothing," he says,
"prevented my father's speech from being the most forcible that
can be imagined, and the administration fully felt it.  The
matter and manner were striking; far beyond what I can express.
It was every thing that was superior; and though it had not the
desired effect on an obdurate House of Lords, it must have an
infinite effect without doors, the bar being crowded with
Americans, etc.  Lord Suffolk, I cannot say answered him, but
spoke after him.  He was a contemptible orator indeed, with
paltry matter and a whining delivery.  Lord Shelburne spoke
well, and supported the motion warmly.  Lord Camden was
supreme, with only One exception, and as zealous as possible.
Lord Rockingham spoke shortly, but sensibly; and the Duke of
Richmond well, and with much candour as to the Declaratory act.
Upon the whole, it was a noble debate.  The ministry were
violent beyond expectation, almost to madness.  instead of
recalling the troops now there, they talked of sending more.
My father has had no pain, but is lame in one ankle near the
instep from standing so long.  No wonder he is lame: his first
speech lasted above an hour, and the second half an hour;
surely, the two finest speeches that ever were made before,
unless by himself!"  Dr. Franklin too, who heard the debate,
says, in reference to Lord Chatham's speech-"I am filled with
admiration of that truly great man.  I have seen, in the course
of my life, sometimes eloquence without wisdom and often wisdom
without eloquence: in the present instance, I see both united,
and both, as I think, in the highest degree possible." Vol. iv.
pp. 375, 385.-E.

(200) Afterwards second Earl of Dorchester-E.

(201) His Royal Highness survived this illness more than thirty
years.-E.

(202) This committee was wittily called by Mr. Burke, and
afterwards generally known as "the committee of oblivion."-E.

(203) Afterwards Earl of Derby-E.

(204) The Right Hon. William Dowdeswell, of Pull Court, member
for the county of Worcester.  He died at Nice, whither he had
gone for the recovery of his health.-E.

(205) The Hon. Thomas Hervey, second son of John first Earl of
Bristol.-E.



Letter 88 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Arlington Street, April 11, 1775. (page 129)

I thank you, dear Sir, for your kind letter., and the good
account YOU give of yourself-nor can I blame your change from
writing that is, transcribing, to reading--sure you ought to
divert yourself rather than others-though I should not say s,
if your pen had not confined itself to transcripts.

I am perfectly well, and heed not the weather; though I wish
the seasons came a little oftener into their own places instead
of each Other's.  From November, till a fortnight ago, we had
much warmth that I should often be glad of in summer--and since
we are not sure of it then, was rejoiced when I could get it.
For myself, I am a kind of delicate Hercules; and though made
of paper, have, by temperance, by using as much cold water
inwardly and outwardly as I can, and by taking no precautions
against catching cold, and braving all weathers, become capable
of suffering by none.  My biennial visitant, the gout, has
yielded to the bootikins, and stayed with me this last time but
five weeks in lieu of five months.  Stronger men perhaps would
kill themselves by my practice, but it has done so long with
me, I shall trust to it.

I intended writing to you on Gray's Life,(206) if you had not
prevented me.  I am charmed with it, and prefer it to all the
biography I ever saw.  The style is excellent, simple,
unaffected; the method admirable, artful, and judicious.  He
has framed the fragments, as a person said, so well, that they
are fine drawings, if not finished pictures.  For my part, I am
so interested in it, that I shall certainly read it over and
over.  I do not find that it is likely to be the case with many
yet.  Never was a book, which people pretended to expect so
much with impatience, less devoured-at least in London, where
quartos are not of quick digestion.  Faults are found, I hear,
at Eton with the Latin Poems for false quantities-no
matter-they are equal to the English -and can one say more?

At Cambridge, I should think the book would both offend much
and please; at least if they are as sensible to humour as to
ill-humour; and there is orthodoxy enough to wash down a camel.
The Scotch and the Reviewers will be still more angry.  and the
latter have not a syllable to pacify them.  So they who wait
for their decisions will probably miss of reading the most
entertaining book in the world--a punishment which they who
trust to such wretched judges deserve; for who are more
contemptible than such judges, but they who pin their faith on
them?

In answer to you, yourself, my good Sir, I shall not subscribe
to your censure of Mr. Mason, whom I love and admire, and who
has shown the greatest taste possible in the execution of this
work.  Surely he has said enough in gratitude, and done far
beyond what gratitude could demand., It seems delicacy in
expatiating on the legacy; particularizing more gratitude would
have lessened the evidence of friendship, and made the 'justice
done to Gray's character look more like a debt.,_ He speaks of
him in slender circumstances, not as distressed: and so he was
till after the deaths of his parents and aunts; and even then
surely not rich.  I think he does somewhere say that he meant to
be buried with his mother, and not specifying any other place
confirms it.  In short, Mr. Mason shall never know your
criticisms; he has a good heart, and would feel them, though
certainly not apprised that he would merit them.  A man who has
so called out all his -friend's virtues, could not want them
himself.

I shall be much obliged to you for the prints you destine for
me.  The Earl of Cumberland I have, and will not rob you of.  I
wish you had been as successful with Mr. G. as with Mr. T.  I
mean, if you are not yet paid-now is the time, for he has sold
his house to the Duke of Marlborough-I suppose he will not keep
his prints long: he changes his pursuits Continually and
extravagantly-and then sells to indulge new fancies.

I have had a piece of luck within these two days.  I have long
lamented our having no certain piece written by Anne Boleyn's
brother, Lord Rochford.  I have found a very pretty copy of
verses by him in the new published volume of the Nuge Antiquae,
though by mistake he is called, Earl of, instead Of Viscount,
Rochford.  They are taken from a MS-dated twenty-eight years
after the author's death, and are much in the manner of Lord
Surrey's and Sir T. Wyat's poems.  I should at first have
doubted if they were not counterfeited, on reading my Noble
Authors; but then the blunder of earl for viscount would hardly
have been committed.  A little modernized and softened in the
cadence, they would be very pretty.

I have got the rest of the Digby pictures, but at a very high
rate.  There is one very large of Sir Kenelm, his wife, and two
sons, in exquisite preservation, though the heads of him and
his wife are not so highly finished as those I have--yet the
boys and draperies are so that, together with the size, it is
certainly the most capital miniature in the world: there are a
few more, very fine too.  I shall be happy to show them to you,
whenever You Burnhamize--I mean before August, when I propose
making MY dear old blind friend a visit at Paris--nothing else
would carry me thither.  I am too old to seek diversions, and
too indolent to remove to a distance by choice, though not so
immovable as YOU to much less distance.  Adieu! Pray tell me
what you hear is said of Gray's Life at Cambridge.

(206) "The Poems of Mr. Gray: to which are prefixed Memoirs of
his Life and Writings; by W, Mason, M A, York, 1775." At the
end of Mason's work Mr. Cole wrote the following memorandum:--
"I am by no means satisfied with this Life; it has too much the
affectation of classical shortness to please me, More
circumstances would have suited my taste better; besides, I
think the biographer had a mind to revenge himself of the
sneerings Mr. Gray put upon him, though he left him, I guess,
above a thousand pounds, which is slightly hinted at only; yet
Mr. Walpole was quite satisfied with the work when I made my
objection."  A copy of Gray's will is given in the Rev. J.
Mitford's very valuable edition of the poet's works, published
by Pickering, in four volumes, in 1836.-E.



Letter 89 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Arlington Street, April 5, 1775. (page 132)

The least I can do, dear Sir, in gratitude for the cargo of
prints I have received to-day from you, is to send you a
medicine.  A pair of bootikins will set out to-morrow morning
in the machine that goes from the Queen's-head in
Gray's-inn-lane.  To be certain, you had better send for them
where the machine inns, lest they should neglect delivering
them at Milton.  My not losing a moment shows my zeal; but if
you can bear a little pain, I should not press you to use them.
I have suffered so dreadfully, that I constantly wear them to
diminish the stock of gout in my constitution; but as your fit
is very slight, and will not last, and as you are pretty sure
by its beginning so late, that you will never have much; and s
the gout certainly carries off other complaints, had not you
better endure a little, when it is rather a remedy than a
disease? I do not desire to be entirely delivered from the
gout, for all reformations do but make room for some new
grievance: and in my opinion a disorder that requires no
physician, is preferable to any that does.  However, I have put
relief in your power, and you will judge for yourself.  You
must tie them as tight as you can bear, the flannel next to the
flesh; and, when you take them off, it should be in bed: rub
your feet with a warm cloth, and put on warm stockings, for
fear of catching cold while the pores are open.  It would kill
any body but me, who am of adamant, to walk out in the dew in
winter in my slippers in half an hour after pulling off the
bootikins.  A physician sent me word, good-naturedly, that
there was danger of catching cold after the bootikins, unless
one was careful.  I thanked him, but told him my precaution
was, never taking any.  All the winter I pass five days in a
week without walking out, and sit often by the fireside till
seven in the evening.  When I do go out, whatever the weather
is, I go with both glasses of the coach down, and so I do at
midnight out of the hottest room.  I have not had a single
cold, however slight, these two years.

You are too candid in submitting at once to my defence of Mr.
Mason. It is true I am more charmed with his book than I almost
ever was with one.  I find more people like the grave letters
than those of humour, and some think the latter a little
affected, which is as wrong a judgment as they could make; for
Gray never wrote any thing easily but things of humour.  Humour
was his natural and original turn--and though from his
childhood he was grave and reserved, his genius led him to see
things ludicrously and satirically; and though his health and
dissatisfaction gave him low spirits, his melancholy turn was
much more affected than his pleasantry in writing.  You knew
him enough to know I am in the right-but the world in general
always wants to be told how to think, as well as what to think.
The print, I agree with you, though like, is a very
disagreeable likeness, and the worst likeness of him.  It gives
the primness he had under constraint; and there is a blackness
in the countenance which was like him only the last time I ever
saw him, when I was much struck with it: and, though I did not
apprehend him in danger, it left an impression on me that was
uneasy, and almost prophetic of what I heard but too soon after
leaving him.  Wilson drew the picture under such impression,
and I could not bear it in my room; Mr. Mason altered it a
little, but Still it is not well, nor gives any idea of the
determined virtues of his heart.  It just serves to help the
reader to an image of the person whose genius and integrity
they must admire, if they are so happy as to have a taste for
either.

The Peep into the Gardens at Twickenham is a silly little book,
of which a few little copies were printed some years ago for
presents, and which now sets up for itself as a vendible book.
It is a most inaccurate, superficial, blundering account of
Twickenham and other places, drawn up by a Jewess, who has
married twice, and turned Christian, poetess, and authoress.
She has printed her poems, too, and one complimentary copy of
mine, which, in good breeding, I could not help Sending her in
return for violent compliments in verse to me.  I do not
remember that hers were good; mine I know were very bad, and
certainly never intended for the press.

I bought the first volume of Manchester, but could not read it;
it was much too learned for me, and seemed rather an account of
Babel than Manchester, I mean in point of antiquity.(207)  To
be sure, it is very kind in an author to promise one the
history of a country town, and give one a circumstantial
account of the antediluvian world into the bargain.  But I am
simple and ignorant, and desire no more than I pay for.  And
then for my progenitors, Noah and the Saxons, I have no
curiosity about them.  Bishop Lyttelton used to plague me to
death about barrows, and tumuli, and Roman camps, and all those
bumps in the ground that do not amount to a most imperfect
ichnography; but, in good truth, I am content with all arts
when perfected, nor inquire how ingeniously people contrive to
do without them--and I care still less for remains of art that
retain no vestiges of art.  Mr. Bryant,)208) who is sublime in
unknown knowledge, diverted me more, yet I have not finished
his work, no more than he has.  There is a great ingenuity in
discovering all his history [though it has never been written]
by etymologies.  Nay, he convinced me that the Greeks had
totally mistaken all they went to learn in Egypt, etc. by
doing, as the French do still, judge wrong by the ear--but as I
have been trying now and then for above forty years to learn
something, I have not time to unlearn it all again, though I
allow this our best sort of knowledge.  If I should die when I
am not clear in the History of the World below its first three
thousand years, I should be at a sad loss on meeting with Homer
and Hesiod, or any of those moderns in the Elysian fields,
before I knew what I ought to think of them.  Pray do not
betray my ignorance: the reviewers and such literati have
called me a learned and ingenious gentleman.  I am sorry they
ever heard my name, but don't let them know how irreverently I
speak of the erudite, whom I dare to say they admire.  These
wasps, I suppose, will be very angry at the just contempt Mr.
Gray had for them, and will, as insects do, attempt to sting,
in hopes that their twelvepenny readers will suck a little
venom from the momentary tumour they raise--but good night-and
once more, thank you for the prints.  Yours ever.

(207) "The History of Manchester," by John Whitaker, B. D.
London, 1771-3-5. 2 vols. 4to.  "We talked," says Boswell, "of
antiquarian researches.  Johnson. 'All that is really known Of
the ancient state of Britain is contained in a few Pages.  We
can know no more than what the old writers have told us; Yet
what large books we have upon it; the whole of which, excepting
such parts as are taken from these old writers, is all a dream,
such as Whitaker's Manchester.'" Life of Johnson, vol. vii. p.
189.-E.

(208) Jacob Bryan, the learned author of "A New System; or, n
Analysis of Ancient Mythology," 4to. 1774-6, 3 vols.; and of
many other works.  His character was thus finely drawn, in
1796, by Mr. Matthias, in "The Pursuits of Literature:"--"No
man of literature can pass by the name of Mr. Bryant without
gratitude and reverence.  He is a gentleman of attainments
peculiar to himself, and of classical erudition without an
equal in Europe.  His whole life has been spent in laborious
researches, and the most curious investigations.  He has a
youthful fancy and a playful wit; with the mind, and
occasionally with the pen of a poet; and with an ease and
simplicity of style aiming only at perspicuity, and, as I
think, attaining it.  He has lived to see his eightieth winter
(and May he yet long live!) with the esteem of the wise and
good; in honourable retirement from the cares of life; with a
gentleness of manners, and a readiness and willingness of
literary communication seldom found.  He is admired and sought
after by the young who are entering on a course of study, and
revered, and often followed, by those who have completed it.
Nomen in exemplum sero servabirnus evo!"  Mr. Bryant died in
1804, in his eighty-ninth year, in consequence Of a wound on
his Shin, occasioned by his foot slipping from a chair which he
had stepped on to reach a book in his library-E.



Letter 90 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Strawberry Hill, June 5, 1775. (page 134)

I am extremely concerned, dear Sir, to hear you have been so
long confined by the gout.  The painting of your house may,
from the damp, have given you cold-I don't conceive that paint
can affect one otherwise, if it does not make one sick, as it
does me of all things.  Dr. Heberden(209) (as every physician,
to make himself talked of, will Set up Some new hypothesis,)
pretends that a damp house, and even damp sheets, which have
ever been reckoned fatal, are wholesome: to prove his faith he
went into his own new house totally Unaired, and survived it.
At Malvern, they certainly put patients into sheets just dipped
in the spring-however, I am 'glad you have a better proof that
dampness is not mortal, and it is better to be too cautious
than too rash.  I am perfectly well, and expect to be so for a
year and a half-I desire no more of the bootikins than to
curtail my fits.

Thank you for the note from North's Life, though, having
reprinted my Painters, I shall never have an opportunity of
using it.  I am still more obliged to you for the offer of an
Index to my Catalogue but, as I myself know exactly where to
find every thing in it, and as I dare to say nobody else will
want it, I shall certainly not put  YOU to that trouble.

Dr. Glynn will certainly be most welcome to see my house, and
shall, if I am not at home:-still I had rather know a few days
before, because else he may happen to come when I have company,
as I have often at this time of the year, and then it is
impossible to let it be seen, as I cannot ask my company, who
may have come to see it too, to go out, that somebody else may
see it, and I should be Very sorry to have the Doctor
disappointed.  These difficulties, which have happened more
than once, have obliged me to give every ticket for a
particular day; therefore, if Dr. Glynn will be so good as to
advertise me of the day he intends to come here, with a
direction, I shall send him word what day he can see it.

I have just run through the two vast folios of Hutchins's
Dorsetshire.(210)  He has taken infinite pains; indeed, all but
those that would make it entertaining.

Pray can you tell me any thing of some relations of my own, the
Burwells?  My grandfather married Sir Jeffery Burwell's
daughter, of Rongham, in Suffolk.  Sir Jeffery's mother, I
imagine, was daughter of a Jeffery Pitman, of Suffolk; at least
I know there was such a man in the latter, and that we quarter
the arms of Pitman.  But I cannot find who Lady Burwell, Sir
Jeffery's wife, was.  Edmondson has searched in vain in the
Heralds' office; and I have outlived all the ancient of my
family so long, that I know not of whom to Inquire, but you of
the neighbourhood.  There is an old walk in the park at
Houghton, called "Sir Jeffery's Walk," where the old gentleman
used to teach my father (Sir Robert) his book.  Those very old
trees encouraged my father to plant at Houghton.  When people
used to try to persuade him nothing would grow there, he said,
why Will not other trees grow as well as those in Sir Jeffery's
Walk?--Other trees have grown to some purpose!  Did I ever tell
you that ,my father was descended from Lord Burleigh? The
latter's granddaughter, by his son Exeter, married Sir Giles
Allington, whose daughter married Sir Robert Crane, father of
Sir Edward Walpole's .'Wife.  I want but Lady Burwell's name to
Make my genealogic tree Shoot out stems every way.  I have
recovered a barony in fee, which has no defect but in being
antecedent to any summons to Parliament, that of the Fitz
Osberts: and On MY Mother's side it has mounted the Lord knows
whither by the Philipps,s to Henry VIII. and has sucked in
Dryden for a great-uncle: and by Lady Philipps's mother, Darcy,
to Edward III. and there I stop for brevity's sake--especially
as Edward III. is a second Adam; who almost is not descended
from Edward 1 as posterity will be from Charles II. and all the
princes in Europe from James I.  I am the first antiquary of my
race.  People don't know how entertaining a study it is.  Who
begot whom is a most amusing kind of hunting; one recovers a
grandfather instead of breaking one's own neck--and then one
grows so pious to the memory of a thousand persons one never
heard of before.  One finds how Christian names came into a
family, with a world of other delectable erudition.  You cannot
imagine how vexed I was that Bloomfield(211) died before he
arrived at Houghton--I had promised myself a whole crop of
notable ancestors-but I think I have pretty well unkennelled
them myself.  Adieu! Yours ever.

P. S. I found a family of Whaplode in Lincolnshire who give our
arms, and have persuaded myself that Whaplode is a corruption
of Walpole, and came from a branch when we lived at Walpole in
Lincolnshire.

(209) Dr. William Heberden, the distinguished physician and
medical writer, who died on the 17th of March, 1801, at the
advanced age of ninety-one.-E.

(210) "The History and Antiquities of the County of Dorset."
London, 1774, in two volumes, folio.  A second edition,
corrected, augmented, and improved, by Richard Gough and John
Bowyer Nichols, in four Volumes, folio, appeared in
1796-1815.-E.

(211) The Rev. Francis Blomefield, the author of an " Essay
towards a Topographical History of the County of Norfolk,"
which was left unfinished by him, and continued by the Rev.
Charles Parkin. It was first printed in five folio volumes:
1739-1773. A second edition, in eleven volumes, octavo,
appeared in 1805-1810.-E.



Letter 91 To The Hon. H. S. Conway.
Strawberry Hill, July 9, 1775. (page 136)

The whole business of this letter would lie in half a line.
Shall you have room for me on Tuesday the 18th? I am putting
myself into motion that I may go farther.  I told Madame du
Deffand how you had scolded me on her account, and she has
charged me to thank you, and tell you how much she wishes to see
you, too.  I would give any thing to go-But the going!--However,
I really think I shall, but I grow terribly affected with a
maladie de famille, that of taking root at home.

I did but put my head into London on Thursday, and more bad news
from America.(211)  I wonder when it will be bad enough to make
folks think it so, without going on!  The stocks, indeed, begin
to grow a little nervous, and they are apt to affect other
pulses.  I heard this evening here that the Spanish fleet is
sailed, and that we are not in the secret whither-but I don't
answer for Twickenham gazettes, and I have no better.  I have a
great mind to tell you a Twickenham story; and yet it will be
good for nothing, as I cannot send you the accent in a letter.
Here it is, and you must try to set it to the right emphasis.
One of our maccaronis is dead, a Captain Mawhood, the teaman's
son.  He had quitted the army, because his comrades called him
Captain Hyson, and applied himself to learn the classics and
freethinking; and was always disputing with the parson of the
parish about Dido and his own soul.  He married Miss Paulin's
warehouse, who had six hundred a-year; but, being very much out
of conceit with his own canister, could not reconcile himself to
her riding-hood--so they parted beds in three nights.  Of late he
has taken to writing comedies, which every body was welcome to
hear him read, as he could get nobody to act them.  Mrs. Mawhood
has a friend, one Mrs. V * * *, a mighty plausible good sort of
body, who feels for every body, and a good deal for herself, is
of a certain age, wears well, has some pretensions that she
thinks very reasonable still, and a gouty husband.  Well! she was
talking to Mr. Rafter about Captain Mawhood a little before he
died.  "Pray, Sir, does the Captain ever communicate his writings
to Mrs. Mawhood?"  "Oh, dear no, Madam; he has a sovereign
contempt for her understanding."  "Poor woman!"  "And pray, Sir,-
- give me leave to ask you: I think I have heard they very seldom
sleep together!"  "Oh, never, Madam!  Don't you know all that?"
"Poor woman!"  I don't know whether you will laugh; but Mr.
Raftor,(213) who tells a story better than any body, made me
laugh for two hours.  Good night!

(212) Of the commencement of hostilities with the Americans at
Lexington on the 19th of April.-E.

(213) Mr. Raftor brother to Mrs. Clive.-E.



Letter 92 To The Hon. H. S. Conway.(214)
Strawberry Hill, August 9, 1775. (page 137)

Well, I am going tout de bon, and I heartily wish I was returned.
It is a horrid exchange, the cleanness and verdure and
tranquillity of 'Strawberry, for a beastly ship, worse inns, the
pav`e of the roads bordered with eternal rows of maimed trees,
and the racket of an h`otel garni!  I never doat on the months of
August and September, enlivened by nothing but Lady Greenwich's
speaking-trumpet--but I do not want to be amused--at least never
at the expense of being put in motion.  Madame du Deffand, I am
sure, may be satisfied with the sacrifice I make to her!(215)

You have heard, to be sure, of the war between your brother and
Foote; but probably do not know how far the latter has carried
his impudence.  Being asked, why Lord Hertford had refused to
license his piece, he replied, "Why, he asked me to make his
youngest son a box-keeper, and because I would not, he stopped my
play."(216)  The Duchess of Kingston offered to buy it off, but
Foote would not take her money, and swears he will act her in
Lady Brumpton; which to be sure is very applicable.

I am sorry to hear Lord Villiers is going to drag my lady through
all the vile inns in Germany.  I think he might go alone.

George Onslow told me yesterday, that the American Congress had
sent terms of accommodation, and that your brother told him so;
but a strange fatality attends George's news, which is rarely
canonical; and I doubt this intelligence is far from being so..
I shall know more to-morrow, when I go to town to prepare for my
journey on Tuesday.  Pray let me hear from you, enclosed to M.
Panchaud.

I accept with great joy Lady Ailesbury's offer Of coming hither
in October, which will increase my joy in being at home again.  I
intend to set out on my return the 25th Of next month.  Sir
Gregory Page has left Lord Howe eight thousand pounds at present,
and twelve more after his aunt Mrs. Page's death.

Thursday, 10th.

I cannot find any ground for believing that any proposals are
come from the Congress.  On the contrary, every thing looks as
melancholy as possible.  Adieu!

(214) Now first printed.

(215) In her letter of the 5th of August, Madame du Deffand, by
way of inducement to Walpole to take the journey, says--"Je vous
jure que je ne me soucierai de rien pour vous; c'est `a dire, de
vous faire faire une chose Plut`ot qu'une autre: vous serez
totalement libre de toutes vos pens`ees, paroles, et actions,
vous ne me verrez pas un souhait un d`esir qui Puisse contredire
vos pens`ees et Vos volont`es: je saurai que M. Walpole est `a
Paris, il saura que je demeure `a St. Joseph; il sera maitre d'y
arriver, d'y rester, de s'en aller, comme il lui plaira."-E.

(216) The piece was entitled "The Trip to Calais;" in which the
author having ridiculed, under the name of Kitty Crocodile, the
eccentric Duchess of Kingston she offered him a sum of money to
strike out the part.  A correspondence took place between the
parties, which ended in the Duchess making an application to Lord
Hertford, at that time Lord Chamberlain, who interdicted the
performance.  Foote, however, brought it out, with some
alterations, in the following year, under the title of "The
Capuchin."-E.



Letter 93 To The Countess Of Ailesbury.
>From t'other side of the water, August 17, 1775.(217) (page 138)

Interpreting your ladyship's orders in the most personal sense,
as respecting the dangers of the sea, I -write the instant I am
landed.  I did not, in truth, set out till yesterday morning at
eight o'clock; but finding the roads, horses, postilions, tides,
winds, moons, and Captain Fectors in the pleasantest humour in
the world, I embarked almost as soon as I arrived at Dover, and
reached Calais before the sun was awake;-and here I am for the
sixth time in my life, with only the trifling distance of
seven-and-thirty years between my first voyage and the present.
Well! I can only say in excuse, that I am got into the land of
Struldburgs, where one is never too old to be young, and where la
b`equille du p`ere Barnabas blossoms like Aaron's rod, or the
Glastonbury thorn.  Now, to be sure, I shall be a little
mortified, if your ladyship wanted a letter of news, and did not
at all trouble your head about my navigation.  However, you will
not tell one so; and therefore I will persist in believing that
this good news will be received with transport at Park-place, and
that the bells of Henley will be set a ringing.  The rest of my
adventures, must be deferred till they have happened, which is
not always the case of travels.  I send you no Compliments from
Paris, because I have not got thither, nor delivered the bundle
which Mr. Conway sent me.  I did, as Your ladyship commanded; buy
three pretty little medallions in frames of filigraine, for our
dear old friend.  They will not ruin you, having cost not a
guinea and a half; but it was all I could find that was genteel
and portable; and as she does not measure by guineas, but
attentions, she will be as much pleased as if you had sent her a
dozen acres of Park-place.  As they are in bas-relief, too, they
are feelable, and that is a material circumstance to her.  I wish
the Diomede had even so much as a pair of Nankin!

Adieu, toute la ch`ere famille!  I think of October with much
satisfaction; it will double the pleasure of my return.

(217) Mr. Walpole reached Paris on the 19th of August and left it
on the 19th of October.-E.



Letter 94 To The Countess Of Ailesbury.
Paris, August 20, 1775. (page 139)

I have been sea-sick to death: I have been poisoned by dirt and
vermin; I have been stifled by beat, choked by dust, and starved
for want of any thing I could touch: and yet, Madam, here, I am
perfectly well, not in the least fatigued; and, thanks to the
rivelled parchments, formerly faces, which I have seen by
hundreds, I find myself almost as young as When I came hither
first in the last century.  In spite of my whims, and delicacy,
and laziness, none of my grievances have been mortal: I have
borne them as well as if I had set up for a philosopher, like the
sages of this town.  Indeed, I have found my dear old woman So
well, and looking so much better than she did four years ago,
that I am transported with pleasure, and thank your ladyship and
Mr. Conway for driving me hither.  Madame du Deffand came to me
the instant I arrived, and sat by me whilst I stripped and
dressed myself; for, as she said, since she cannot see there was
no harm in my being stark.(218)  She was charmed with your
present; but was so Kind as to be so much more charmed with my
arrival, that she did not think of it a moment.  I sat with her
till half an hour after two in the morning, and had a letter from
her before MY eyes were open again.  In short, her soul is
immortal, and forces her body to bear it company.

This is the very eve of Madame Clotilde's(219) Wedding - but
Monsieur Turgot, to the great grief of Lady Mary Coke, will
suffer no cost, but one banquet, one ball, and a play at
Versailles.  Count Viry gives a banquet, a bal masqu`e, and a
firework.  I think I shall see little but the last, from which I
will send your ladyship a rocket in my next letter.  Lady Mary, I
believe, has had a private audience of the ambassador's leg,(220)
but en tout bien, et honneur, and only to satisfy her ceremonious
curiosity about any part of royal nudity.  I am just going to
her, as she is to Versailles; and I have not time to add a word
more to the vows of your ladyship's most faithful.

(218) Madame du Deffand had just completed her seventy-eighth
year.-E.

(219) Madame Clotilde, sister of Louis XV1.  Turgot was the new
minister of finance, who, With his colleagues were endeavouring,
by every practicable means, to reduce the enormous expenditure of
the country.-E.

(220) Mr. Walpole alludes to the ceremony of the marriages of
princesses by proxy.-E.



Letter 95 To Mrs. Abington(221)
Paris, September [1775.] (page 140)

If I had known, Madam, of your being at Paris, before I heard it
from Colonel Blaquiere, I should certainly have prevented your
flattering invitation, and have offered you any services that
could depend on my acquaintance here.  It is plain I am old, and
live with very old folks, when I did not hear of your arrival.
However, Madam, I have not that fault at least of a veteran, the
thinking nothing equal to what they admired in their youth.  I do
impartial justice to your merit, and fairly allow it not only
equal to that of any actress I have seen, but believe the present
age will not be in the wrong, if they hereafter prefer it to
those they may live to see.  Your allowing me to wait on you in
London, Madam, will make me some amends for the loss I have had
here; and I shall take an early opportunity of assuring you how
much I am, Madam, your most obliged humble servant.

(221) Now first printed.  This elegant and fashionable actress
was born in 1735, quitted the stage in 1799, and died in 1815.-E.



Letter 96 To The Hon. H. S. Conway.
Paris, Sept 8, 1775. (page 140)

The delays of the post, and its departure before its arrival,
saved me some days of anxiety for Lady Ailesbury, and prevented
my telling you how concerned I am for her accident; though I
trust, by this time, she has not even pain left.  I feel the
horror you must have felt during her suffering in the dark, and
on the sight of her arm;(222) and though nobody admires her
needlework more than I, still I am rejoiced that it will be the
greatest sufferer.  However, I am very impatient for a farther
account.  Madame du Deffand, who, you know, never loves her
friends by halves, and whose impatience never allows itself time
to inform itself, was out of her wits, because I could not
explain exactly how the accident happened, and where.  She wanted
to write directly, though the post was just gone; and, as soon as
I could make her easy about the accident, she fell into a new
distress about her fans for Madame de Marchais, and concludes
they have been overturned, and broken too.  In short, I never saw
any thing like her.  She has made engagements for me till Monday
se'nnight; in which are included I don't know how many journeys
into the country; and as nobody ever leaves her without her
engaging them for another time, all these parties will be so many
polypuses, that will shoot out into new ones every way.  Madame
de Jonsac,(223) a great friend of mine, arrived the day before
yesterday, and Madame du Deffand has pinned her down to meeting
me at her house four times before next Tuesday, all parentheses,
that are not to interfere with our other suppers; and from those
suppers I never get to bed before two or three o'clock.  In
short, I need  have the activity of a squirrel, and the strength
of a Hercules, to go through my labours--not to count how many
d`em`el`es I have had to raccommode, and how many m`emoires to
present against Tonton,(224) who grows the greater favourite the
more people he devours.  As I am the only person who dare correct
him, I have already insisted on his being confined in the Bastile
every day to after five o'clock.  T'other night he flew at Lady
Barrymore's face, and I thought would have torn her eye out; but
it ended in biting her finger.  She was terrified: she fell into
tears.  Madame du Deffand, who has too much parts not to see
every thing in its true light, perceiving that she had not beaten
Tonton half enough, immediately told us a story of a lady, whose
dog, having bitten a piece out of a gentleman's leg, the tender
dame in a great fright, cried out, "Won't it make my dog sick?"

Lady Barrymore(225) has taken a house.  She will be glutted with
conquests: I never saw any body so much admired.  I doubt her
poor little head will be quite overset.

Madame de Marchais(226) is charming: eloquence and attention
itself I cannot stir for peaches, nectarines, grapes, and bury
pears.  You would think Pomona was in love with me.  I am not so
transported with N * * * * cock and hen.  They are a tabor and
pipe that I do not understand.  He mouths and she squeaks and
neither articulates.  M. d'Entragues I have not seen.  Upon the
whole, I am much more pleased with Paris than ever I was; and,
perhaps, shall stay a little longer than I intended.  The Harry
Grenville's(227) are arrived.  I dined with them at Madame de
Viry's,(228) who has completed the conquest of France by her
behaviour on Madame Clotilde's wedding, and by the f`etes she
gave.  Of other English I wot not, but grieve the Richmonds do
not come.  I am charmed with Dr. Bally; nay, and with the King of
Prussia--as much as I can be with a northern monarch.  For your
Kragen, I think we ought to procure a female one, and marry it to
Ireland, that we may breed some new islands against we have lost
America.  I know nothing of said America.  There is not a
Frenchman that does not think us distracted.

I used to scold you about your bad writing, and perceive I have
written in such a hurry, and blotted my letter so much, that you
will not be able to read it: but consider how few moments I have
to myself.  I am forced to stuff my ears with cotton to get any
sleep.  However, my journey has done me good.  I have thrown off
at least fifteen years.  Here is a letter for my dear Mrs. Damer
from Madame de Cambis, who thinks she doats on you all.  Adieu!

P. S.  I shall bring you two `eloges of Marshal Catinat; not
because I admire them, but because I admire him, because I think
him very like you.

(222) Lady Ailesbury had been overturned in her carriage at
Park-place, and dislocated her wrist.

223) La Comtesse de Jonsac, sister of the President Henault.

(224) A favourite dog of Madame du Deffand's.

(225) Third daughter of William second Earl of Harrington, and
wife of Richard sixth Earl of Barrymore, who, dying in 1780, left
issue Richard and Henry, each of whom became, successively, Earl
of Barrymore; a title which expired upon the death of the latter,
in 1823.-E.

(226) Madame de Marchais, n`ee Laborde, married to a
valet-de-chambre of Louis XV1.  From her intimacy with M.
d'Angivillier, Directeur des B`atiments, Jardins, etc. du Roi,
She had the opportunity of obtaining the finest fruits and
flowers.-E.

(227) Henry Grenville, brother to Earl Temple.  He married Miss
Margaret Banks.  He died in 1784.-E.

(228) Miss Harriet Speed.  She had married M. le Comte do Viry
when he was minister at London from the Court of Turin.  She is
one of the ladies to whom Gray's "Long Story" is addressed.  For
an account of her, see Vol. iii. P. 160, letter 102.-E.



Letter 97 To The Hon. H. S. Conway.
Paris, Oct. 6, 1775. (page 142)

It will look like a month since I wrote to you; but I have been
coming, and am.  Madame du Deffand has been so ill, that the day
she was seized I thought she would not live till night.  Her
Herculean weakness, which could not resist strawberries and cream
after supper, has surmounted all the ups and downs which followed
her excess; but her impatience to go every where, and to do every
thing has been attended with a kind of relapse, and another kind
of giddiness: so that I am not quite easy about her, as they
allow her to take no nourishment to recruit, and she will die of
inanition, if she does not live upon it.  She cannot lift her
head from the pillow without `etourdissemens; and yet her spirits
gallop faster than any body's, and so do her repartees.  She has
a great supper to-night for the Due de Choiseul, and was in such
a passion yesterday with her cook about it, and that put Tonton
into such a rage, that nos dames de Saint Joseph thought the
devil or the philosophers were flying away with their convert! As
I have scarce quitted her, I can have had nothing to tell you.
If she gets well, as I trust, I shall set out on the 12th; but I
cannot leave her in any danger--though I shall run many myself,
if I stay longer.  I have kept such bad hours with this malade
that I have had alarms of gout; and bad weather, worse inns, and
a voyage in winter, will ill suit me.  The fans arrived at a
propitious moment, and she immediately had them opened on her
bed, and felt all the patterns, and had all the papers described.
She was all satisfaction and thanks, and swore me to do her full
justice to Lady Ailesbury, and Mrs. Damer.  Lord Harrington and
Lady Harriet are arrived; but have announced and persisted in a
strict invisibility.  I know nothing of my ch`ere patrie, but
what I learn from the London Chronicle; and that tells me, that
the trading towns are suing out lettres de noblesse, that is,
entreating the King to put an end to commerce, that they may all
be gentlemen.  Here agriculture, economy, reformation,
philosophy, are the bon-ton even at court.  The two nations seem
to have crossed over and figured in; but as people that copy take
the bad with the good, as well as the good with the bad, there
was two days ago a great horserace in the plain de Sablon,
between the Comte d'Artois,(229) the Duc de Chartres,(230)
Monsieur de Conflans, and the Duc de Lauzun.(231)  The latter won
by the address of a little English postilion, who is in such
fashion, that I don't know whether the Academy will not give him
for the subject of an `eloge.

The Due de Choiseul, I said, is here; and, as he has a second
time put off his departure, cela fait beaucoup de bruit.  I shall
not at all be surprised if he resumes the reins, as (forgive me a
pun) he has the Reine at ready.  Messrs. de Turgot and
Malesherbes certainly totter--but I shall tell you no more till I
see you; for though this goes by a private hand, it is so
private, that I don't know it, being an English merchant's, who
lodges in this hotel, and whom I do not know by sight: so,
perhaps, I may bring you word of this letter myself.  I flatter
myself Lady Ailesbury's arm has recovered its straightness and
its cunning. .                                                  .

Madame du Deffand says, I love you better than any thing in the
world.  If true, I hope you have not less penetration: if you
have not, or it is not true, what would professions avail?-So I
leave that matter in suspense.  Adieu!

October 7.

Madame du Deffand was quite well yesterday; and at near one this,
morning I left the Duc de Choiseul, the Duchess de Grammont, the
Prince and the Princess of Beauveau, Princess Of Poix,(232) the
Mar`echale de Luxembourg, Duchess de Lauzun, Ducs de Gontaut(233)
et de Chabot, and Caraccioli, round her chaise longue; and she
herself was not a dumb personage.  I have not heard yet how she
has slept, and must send away my letter this moment, as I must
dress to go to dinner with Monsieur de Malesherbes at Madame de
Villegagnon's.  I must repose a great while after all this living
in company; nay, intend to go very little into the world again,
as I do not admire the French way of burning one's candle to the
very snuff in public.  Tell Mrs. Damer, that the fashion now is
to erect the toup`ee into a high detached tuft of hair, like a
cockatoo's crest; and this toup`ee they call la physionomie--I
don't guess why.

My laquais is come back from St. Joseph's, and says Marie(234) de
Vichy has had a very good night, and is quite well.--Philip!(235)
let my chaise be ready on Thursday.(236)

(229) Afterwards Charles the Tenth.-E.

(230) On the death of his father, in 1785, he became Duke of
Orleans.  In 1792, he was chosen a member of the
National-Convention, when he adopted the Jacobinical title of
Louis-Philippe-Joseph Egalit`e; and, in November 1793, he
suffered by the guillotine. -E.

(231) The Duc de Lauzun, son of the Duc de Gontaut, the maternal
nephew of the Duchesse de Choiseul.-E.

(232) Wife of the Prince de Poix, eldest son of the Mar`echal de
Mouchy, and daughter of the Prince de Beauveau.  The Prince de
Poix retired to this country on the breaking out of the French
revolution, accompanied by his son, Comte Charles de Noailles,
who married the daughter of La Borde, the great banker.-E.

(233) The Duc de Gontaut, brother to the Mar`echal Duc de Biron,
and father to the Duc de Lauzun.  The Duchesse de Gontaut was a
sister of the Duchesse de Choiseul-E.

(234) The maiden name of Madame du Deffand was Marie de Vichy
Chamrond.  She was born in 1697, of a noble family in the
province of Burgundy; and, as her fortune was small, she was
married by her parents, in 1718, to the Marquis du Deffand; the
union being settled with as little attention to her feelings as
was usual in French marriages of that age.  A separation soon
took place; but Walpole says they always continued on good terms,
and that upon her husband's deathbed, at his express desire, she
saw him.-E.

(235) Mr. Walpole's valet-de-chambre.

(236) Walpole left Paris on the 12th; upon which day, Madame du
Deffand thus wrote to him--"Adieu! ce mot est bien triste!
Souvenez que vous laissez ici la personne dont vous `etes le plus
aim`e, et dont le bonheur et le malheur consistent dans ce que
vous pensez pour elle.  Donnez-moi de vos nouvelles le plus t`ot
qu'il sera possible."-E.



Letter 98 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Strawberry Hill, Dec. 10, 1775. (page 144)

I was very sorry to have been here, dear Sir, the day you called
on me in town.  It is so difficult to uncloister you, that I
regret not seeing you when you are out of your own ambry.  I have
nothing new to tell you that is very old; but you can inform me
of something within your own district.  Who is the author, E. B.
G. of a version of Mr. Gray's Latin Odes into English,(237) and
of an Elegy on my wolf-devoured dog, poor Tory? a name you will
marvel at in a dog of mine; but his godmother was the widow of
Alderman Parsons, who gave him at Paris to Lord Conway, and he to
me.  The author is a poet; but he makes me blush, for he calls
Mr. Gray and me congenial pair.  Alas! I have no genius; and if
any symptom of talent, so inferior to Gray's, that Milton and
Quarles might as well be coupled together.  We rode over the Alps
in the same chaise, but Pegasus drew on his side, and a
cart-horse on mine.  I am too jealous of his fame to let us be
coupled together.  This author says he has lately printed at
Cambridge a Latin translation of the Bards; I should be much
obliged to you for it.

I do not ask you if Cambridge has produced any thing, for it
never does.  Have you made any discoveries? Has Mr. Lort?  Where
is he?  Does Mr. Tyson engrave no more?  My plates for Strawberry
advance leisurely.  I am about nothing.  I grow old and lazy, and
the present world cares for nothing but politics, and satisfies
itself with writing in newspapers.  If they are not bound up and
preserved in libraries, posterity will imagine that the art of
printing was gone out of use.  Lord Hardwicke(238) has indeed
reprinted his heavy volume of Sir Dudley Carleton's Despatches,
and says I was in the wrong to despise it.  I never met with any
body that thought otherwise.  What signifies raising the dead so
often, when they die the next minute?  Adieu!

(237) Edward Burnaby Greene, formerly of Bennet College, but at
that time a brewer in Westminster, He likewise published
translations of Pindar, Persius, Apollonius Rhodius, Anacreon,
etc.-E.

(238) Philip Yorke, second Earl of Hardwicke, when Lord Royston,
published the "Letters to and from Sir Dudley Carleton, Knight,
during his Embassy in Holland, from January 1615-16 to December
1620," 4to. 1727; and, in 1775, a second edition, "with large
additions to the Historical Preface."-E.



Letter 99 To The Countess Of Ailesbury.
Arlington Street, Dec. 11, 1775. (page 145)

Did you hear that scream?--Don't be frightened, Madam; it was
only the Duchess of Kingston last Sunday was sevennight at
chapel: but it is better to be prepared; for she has sent word to
the House of Lords, that her nerves are so bad she intends to
scream for these two months, and therefore they must put off her
trial.  They are to take her throes into consideration to-day;
and that there may be sufficient room for the length of her veil
and train, and attendants, have a mind
to treat her with Westminster-hall.  I hope so, for I should like
to see this com`edie larmoyante; and, besides, I conclude, it
would          bring your ladyship to town.  You shall have
timely notice.

There is another comedy infinitely worth seeing--Monsieur Le
Texier.  He is Pr`eville, and Caillaud, and Garrick, and Weston,
and Mrs. Clive, all together; and as perfect in the most
insignificant part, as in the most difficult.(239)  To be sure,
it is hard to give up loo in such fine weather, when one can play
from morning till night.  In London, Pam can scarce get a house
till ten o'clock.  If you happen to see the General your husband,
make my compliments to him, Madam; his friend the King of Prussia
is going to the devil and Alexander the Great.

(239) M. Le Texier was a native of Lyons, where he was directeur
des fermes.  The following account of the readings of this
celebrated Frenchman, is from a critique on Boaden's Life of
Kemble, in the Quarterly Review, vol. xxxiv. p. 241:--"On one of
the author's incidental topics we must pause for a moment with
delightful recollection.  We mean the readings of Le Texier, who,
seated at a desk, and dressed in plain clothes, reads French
plays with such modulation of voice, and such exquisite point of
dialogue, as to form a pleasure different from that of the
theatre, but almost as great as we experience in listening to a
first-rate actor.  When it commenced, M.  Le Texier read over the
dramatis persome, with the little analysis of character usually
attached to each name, Using the voice and manner with which he
afterwards read the part: and so accurately was the key-note
given, that he had no need to name afterwards the person who
spoke; the stupidest of the audience could not miss to recognise
him."  Madame du Deffand, in a letter to Walpole, says of him--
"Soyez s`ur, que lui tout seul est la meilleure troupe que nous
avons:" and again in one to Voltaire--"Assis dans un fauteuil,
avec un livre `a la main, il jouc les comedies o`u1 il y a sept,
huit, dix, douze personnages, si parfaitement bien, qu'on ne
saurait croire, m`eme en le regardant, que ce soit le m`eme homme
qui Parle.  Pour moi, l'illusion est parfaitc."-E.



Letter 100 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Arlington Street, Dec. 14, 1775. (page 146)

Our letters probably passed by each other on the road, for I
wrote to you on Tuesday, and have this instant received one from
you, which I answer directly, to beg pardon for my incivility,
nay, ingratitude, in not thanking you for your present of a whole
branch of most respectable ancestors, the Derehaughs--why, the
Derehaughs alone would make gentlemen of half the modern peers,
English or Irish.  I doubt my journey to France was got into my
head, and left no room for an additional quarter-but I have given
it to Edmondson, and ordered him to take care that I am born
again from the Derehaughs.  This Edmondson has got a ridiculous
notion into his head that another, and much ancienter of my
progenitors, Sir Henry Walpole, married his wife Isabella
Fitz-Osbert, when she was widow to Sir Walter Jernegan; whereas,
all the Old Testament says Sir Walter married Sir Henry's widow.
Pray send me your authority to confound this gainsayer, if you
know any thing particular of the matter.

I had not heard of the painting you tell me of.  As those
boobies, the Society of Antiquaries, have gotten hold of it, I
wonder their piety did not make them bury it again, as they did
the clothes of Edward I.(240)  I have some notion that in
Vertue's MSS.  or somewhere else, I don't know where, I have read
of some ancient painting at the Rose Tavern.  This I will tell
you-but Mr. Gough is such" a bear, that I shall not satisfy him
about it.  That Society, when they are puzzled, have recourse to
me; and that would be so often, that I shall not encourage them.
They may blunder as they please, from their heavy president down
to the pert Governor Pownall, who accounts for every thing
immediately, before the Creation or since.  Say only to Mr.
Gough, that I said I had not leisure now to examine Vertue's MSS.
If I find any thing there, you shall know-but I have no longer
any eagerness to communicate what I discover.  When there was so
little taste for MSS. which Mr. Gray thought worth transcribing,
and which were so valuable, would one offer more pearls?

Boydel brought me this morning another number of the Prints from
the pictures at Houghton.  Two or three in particular are most
admirably executed--but alas! it will be twenty years before the
set is completed.  That is too long to look forward to at any
age!--and at mine!--Nay, people will be tired in a quarter of the
time.  Boydel, who knows this country, and still more this town,
thinks so too.  Perhaps there will be newer, or at least more
fashionable ways of engraving, and the old will be despised--or,
which is still more likely, nobody will be able to afford the
expense.  Who would lay a plan for any thing in an overgrown
metropolis hurrying to its fall!

I will return you Mr. Gough's letter when I get a frank.  Adieu!

(240) The Society of Antiquaries, having obtained permission to
do so, had, on the 2d of May 1774, opened the tomb of Edward the
First in Westminster.  The body was found in perfect
preservation, and most superbly attired. The garments were, of
course, carefully replaced in the tomb.-E.



Letter 101 To Thomas Astle, Esq.
December 19, 1775. (page 147)

Sir,
I am much obliged, and return you my thanks for the paper you
have sent me.  You have added a question to it, which, if I
understand it, you yourself, Sir, are more capable than any body
of answering.  You say, "Is it probable that this instrument was
framed by Richard Duke of Gloucester?" If by framed you mean
drawn up, I should think princes of the blood, in that barbarous
age, were not very expert in drawing acts of attainder, though a
branch of the law more in use then than since.  But as I suppose
you mean forged, you, Sir, so conversant in writings of that age,
can judge better than any man.  You may only mean forged by his
order.  Your reading, much deeper than mine, may furnish you with
precedents of forged acts of attainder: I never heard of one; nor
does my simple understanding suggest the use of such a forgery,
on cases immediately pressing; because an act of attainder being
a matter of public notoriety, it would be revolting to the common
sense of all mankind to plead such an one', if it had not really
existed.  If it could be carried into execution by force, the
force would avail without the forgery, and would be at once
exaggerated and weakened by it.  I cannot, therefore, conceive
why Richard should make use of so absurd a trick, unless that
having so little to do in so short and turbulent a reign, he
amused himself with treasuring up in the tower a forged act for
the satisfaction of those who, three hundred years afterwards,
should be glad of discovering new flaws in his character.  As
there are men so bigoted to old legends, I am persuaded, Sir,
that you would please them, by communicating your question to
them.  They would rejoice to suppose that Richard was more
criminal than even the Lancastrian historians represent him; and
just at this moment I don't know whether they would not believe
that Mrs. Rudd assisted him.  I, who am, probably, as absurd a
bigot on the other side, see nothing in the paper you have sent
me, but a confirmation of Richard's innocence of the death of
Clarence.  As the Duke of Buckingham was appointed to superintend
the execution, it is incredible that he should have been drowned
in a butt of malmsey, and that Richard should have been the
executioner.  When a seneschal of England, or as we call it, a
lord high steward, is appointed for a trial, at least for
execution, with all his officers, it looks very much as if, even
in that age, proceedings were carried on with a little more
formality than the careless writers of that time let us think.
The appointment, too, of the Duke of Buckingham for that office,
seems to add another improbability [and a work of supererogation]
to Richard's forging the instrument.  Did Richard really do
nothing but what tended to increase his unpopularity by glutting
mankind with lies, forgeries, absurdities, which every man living
could detect?
 I take this opportunity, Sir, of telling you how sorry I am not
to have seen you long, and how glad I shall be to renew our
acquaintance, especially if you like to talk over this old story
with me, though I own it is of little importance, and pretty well
exhausted.(241)  I am, Sir, with great regard, your obliged
humble servant.

(241) To the above letter it was intended to subjoin the
following queries:--

"If there was no such Parliament held, would Richard have dared
to forge an act for it?

"Would Henry VII. never have reproached him with so absurd a
forgery?

"Did neither Sir T.  More nor Lord Bacon ever hear of that
forgery?

"As Richard declared his nephew the Earl of Warwick his
successor, would he have done so, if he had forged an act of
attainder of Warwick's father?

"if it is supposed he forged the act, when he set aside Warwick,
could he pretend that act was not known when he declared him his
heir? Would not so recent an act's being unknown have proved it a
forgery; and if there had been no such Parliament as that which
forged it, would not that have proved it a double forgery?  The
act, therefore, and the parliament that passed it, must have been
genuine, and existed, though no other record appears.  The
distractions of the times, the evident insufficiency or
partiality of the historians of that age, and the interest of
Henry VII to destroy all records that gave authority to the House
Of York and their title, account for our wanting evidence of that
Parliament."



Letter 102 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
January 26, 1776. (page 148)

I have deferred answering your last letter, dear Sir, till I
cannot answer with my own hand.  I made a pilgrimage at Christmas
to Queen's Cross, at Ampthill, was caught there by the snow,
Imprisoned there for a fortnight, and sent home bound hand and
foot by the gout.  The pain, I suppose, is quite frozen, for I
have had none; nothing but inflammation and swelling, and they
abate.  In reality, this is owing to the bootikins, which -though
they do not cure the gout, take out its sting.  You, who are
still more apt to be an invalid, feel, I fear, this Hyperborean
season; I should be glad to hear you did not.

I thought I had at once jumped upon a discovery of the subject of
the painted room at the Rose Tavern, but shall not plume myself
upon my luck till I have seen the chamber, because Mr. Gough's
account seems to date the style of the painting earlier than
-will serve my hypothesis.  I had no data to go upon but the site
having belonged to the family of Tufton (for I do not think the
description at all answers to the taking of Francis I., nor is it
at all credible that there should be arms in the painting, and
yet neither those of France or Austria).  I turned immediately to
Lord Thanet's pedigree, in Collins's Peerage, and found at once
an heroic adventure performed by one of the family, that accords
remarkably with the principal circumstance.  It is the rescue of
the Elector Palatine, son of our Queen of Bohemia, from an
ambuscade laid for him by the Duke of Lorrain.  The arms, Or, and
Gules, I thought were those of Lorrain, which I since find are
Argent and Gules.  The Argent indeed may be turned yellow by age,
as Mr. Gough says he does not know whether the crescent is red or
black.  But the great impediment is, that this achievement of a
Tufton was performed in the reign of Charles II.  Now in that
reign, when
we were become singularly ignorant of chivalry, anachronisms and
blunders might easily be committed by a modern painter, yet I
shall not adhere to my discovery, unless I find the painting
correspond with the style of the modern time to which I would
assign it; nor will I see through the eyes of my hypothesis, but
fairly.

I shall now turn to another subject.  Mr. Astle, who has left me
off ever Since the fatal era of Richard III.  for no reason that
I can conceive but my having adopted his discovery, which for
aught I know may be a reason with an antiquary, lately sent me
the attainder of George Duke of Clarence, which he has found in
the Tower and printed; and on it, as rather glad to confute me
and himself, than to have found a curiosity, he had written two
or three questions which tended to accuse Richard of having
forged the instrument, though to the instrument itself is added
another, which confirms my acquittal of Richard of the murder of
Clarence-but, alas! passion is a spying glass that does but make
the eyes of folly more blind.

I sent him an answer, a copy of which I enclose.  Since that, I
have heard no more of him, nor shall, I suppose, till I see this
new proof of Richard's guilt adopted into the annals of the
Society, against which I have reserved some other stigmas for it.
Mr. Edmondson has found a confirmation of Isabella Fitz-Osbert
having married Jernegan after Walpole.  I forget where I found my
arms of the Fitz-Osberts.  Though they differ from yours of Sir
Roger, the colours are the same, and they agree with yours of
William Fitz-Osborne.  There was no accuracy in spelling names
even till much later ages; and you know that different branches
of the same family made little variation in their coats.

I am very sorry for the death of poor Henshaw, of which I had not
heard.  I am yours most sincerely.

P. S.  The queries added to the letter to Mr. Astle were not sent
with it; and, as I reserve them for a future answer, I beg you
will show them to nobody.



Letter 103To Edward Gibbon, Esq.(242)
(February 1776.] (page 149)

Mr. Walpole cannot express how much he is obliged to Mr. Gibbon
for the valuable present he has received;(243) nor how great a
comfort it is to him, in his present situation, in which he
little expected to receive singular pleasure.  Mr. Walpole does
not say this at random, nor from mere confidence in the author's
abilities, for he has already (all his weakness would permit)
read the first chapter, and it is in the greatest admiration of
the style, manner, method, clearness, and intelligence.  Mr.
Walpole's impatience to proceed will struggle with his disorder,
and give him such spirits, that he flatters himself he shall owe
part of his recovery to Mr. Gibbon; whom, as soon as that is a
little effected, he shall beg the honour of seeing.

(242) Now first collected.

(243) The first quarto volume of the History of the Decline and
Fall of the Roman Empire.-E.



Letter 104 To Edward Gibbon, Esq.(244)
February 14, 1776. (page 150)

After the singular pleasure of reading you, Sir, the next
satisfaction is to declare my admiration.  I have read great part
of your volume, and cannot decide to which of its various merits
I give the preference, though I have no doubt of assigning any
partiality to one virtue of the author, which, seldom as I meet
with it, always strikes me superiorly.  Its quality will
naturally prevent your guessing which I mean.  It is your amiable
modesty.  How can you know so much, judge so well, possess your
subject, and your knowledge, and your power of judicious
reflection so thoroughly, and yet command yourself and betray no
dictatorial arrogance of decision? How unlike very ancient and
very modern authors! You have, unexpectedly, given the world a
classic history.  The fame it must acquire will  tend every day
to acquit this panegyric of flattery.(245)  The impressions it
has made on me are very numerous.  The strongest is the thirst of
being better acquainted with you--but I reflect that I have been
a trifling author, and am in no light profound enough to deserve
your intimacy, except by confessing your superiority so frankly,
that I assure you honestly, I already feel no envy, though I did
for a moment.  The best proof I can give you of my sincerity, is
to exhort you, warmly and earnestly, to go on with your noble
work--the strongest, though a presumptuous mark of my friendship,
is to warn you never to let your charming modesty be corrupted by
the acclamations your talents will receive.  The native qualities
of the man should never be sacrificed to those of the author,
however shining.  I take this liberty as an older man, which
reminds me how little I dare promise myself that I shall see your
work completed! But I love posterity enough to contribute, if I
can, to give them pleasure through you.

I am too weak to say more, though I could talk for hours on your
history.  But one feeling I cannot suppress, though it is a
sensation of vanity.  I think, nay, I am sure I perceive, that
your sentiments on government agree with my own.  It is the only
point on which I suspect myself of any partiality in my
admiration.  It is a reflection of a far inferior vanity that
pleases me in your speaking with so much distinction of that,
alas! wonderful period, in which the world saw five good monarchs
succeed each other.(246)  I have often thought of treating that
Elysian era.  Happily it has fallen into better hands!

I have been able to rise to-day, for the first time, and flatter
myself that if I have no relapse, you will in two or three days
more give' me leave, Sir, to ask the honour of seeing you.  In
the mean time,,be just; and do not suspect me of flattering you.
You will always hear that I say the same of you to every body.  I
am, with the greatest regard, Sir, etc.

(244) now first collected.

(245) "I am at a loss," says Gibbon, in his Memoirs, "how to
describe the success of the work without betraying the vanity of
the writer.  The first impression was exhausted in a few days; a
second and third edition were scarcely adequate to the demand;
and the bookseller's property was twice invaded by the pirates of
Dublin.  My book was on every table, and almost on every
toilette; the historian was crowned by the taste or fashion of
the day; nor was the general voice disturbed by the barking of
any profane critic."-E.

(246) Walpole, in August 1771, had said, "The world will no more
see Athens, Rome, and the Medici again, than a succession of five
good Emperors, like Nerva, Trajan, Adrian, and the two
Antonines." See ante, p. 56-E.



Letter 105 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Arlington Street, March 1, 1776. (page 151)

I am sorry to tell you that the curious old painting at the
Tavern in Fleet Street is addled, by the subject turning out a
little too old.  Alas! it is not the story of Francis I., but of
St. Paul.  All the coats of arms that should have been French and
Austrian, and that I had a mind to convert into Palatine and
Lorrain, are the bearings of Pharisaic nobility.  In short, Dr.
Percy was here yesterday, and tells me that over Mr. Gough's
imaginary Pavia is written Damascus in capital letters.  Oh! our
antiquaries!

Mr. Astle has at last called on me, but I was not well enough to
see him.  I shall return his visit when I can go out.  I hope
this will be in a week: I have no pain left, but have a codicil
of nervous fevers, for which I am taking the bark.  I have
nothing new for you in our old way, and therefore will not
unnecessarily lengthen my letter, which was only intended to
cashier the old painting, though I hear the antiquaries still go
on with having a drawing taken from it.  Oh! our antiquaries!



Letter 106 To Dr. Gem.(247)
Arlington Street, April 4, 1776 (page 151)

It is but fair, when one quits one's party, to give notice to
those one abandons--at least, modern patriots, who often imbibe
their principles of honour at Newmarket, use that civility.  You
and I, dear Sir, have often agreed in our political notions; and
you, I fear, will die without changing your opinion.  For my
part, I must confess I am totally altered; and, instead of being
a warm partisan of liberty, now admire nothing but despotism.
You will naturally ask what place I have gotten, or what bribe I
have taken? Those are the criterions of political changes in
England-but, as my conversion is of foreign extraction, I shall
not be the richer for it.  In One word, it is the relation du lit
de justice(248) that has operated the miracle.  When two
ministers(249) are found so humane, so virtuous, so excellent as
to study nothing but the welfare and deliverance of the people;
when a king listens to such excellent men; and when a parliament,
from the basest, most interested motives, interposes to intercept
the blessing, must I not change my opinions, and admire arbitrary
power? or can I retain my sentiments, without varying the object?

Yes, Sir, I am shocked at the conduct of the Parliament-- one
would think it was an English one! I am scandalized at the
speeches of the Ivocat-g`en`eral,(250) who sets up the odious
interests of the nobility and clergy against the cries and groans
of the poor; and who employs his wicked eloquence to tempt the
good young monarch, by personal views, to sacrifice the mass of
his subjects to the privileges of the few.  But why do I call it
eloquence? The fumes of interest had so clouded his rhetoric,
that he falls into a downright Iricism.  He tells the King, that
the intended tax on the proprietors of land will affect the
property not only of the rich, but of the poor.  I should be glad
to know what is the Property of the poor? Have the poor landed
estates?  Are those who have landed estates the poor?  Are the
poor that will suffer by the tax, the wretched labourers who are
dragged from their famishing families to work on the roads?  But
it is wicked eloquence when it finds a reason, or gives a reason
for continuing the abuse.  The Advocate tells the King, those
abuses are presque consacr`es par l'anciennet`e.  Indeed, he says
all that can be said for nobility, it is consacr`ee par
l'anciennet`e--and thus the length of the pedigree of abuses
renders them respectable!

His arguments are as contemptible when he tries to dazzle the
King by the great names of Henri Quatre and Sully, of Louis XIV.
and Colbert, two couple whom nothing but a mercenary orator would
have classed together.  Nor, were all four equally venerable,
would it prove any thing.  Even good kings and good ministers, if
such have been, may have erred; nay, may have done the best they
could.  They would not have been good, if they wished their
errors should be preserved, the longer they had lasted.

In short, Sir, I think this resistance of the Parliament to the
adorable reformation planned by Messrs. de Turgot and
Malesherbes, is more phlegmatically scandalous than the wildest
tyranny of despotism.  I forget what the nation was that refused
liberty when it was offered.  This opposition to so noble a work
is worse.  A whole people may refuse its own happiness; but these
profligate magistrates resist happiness for others, for millions,
for posterity!  Nay, do they not half vindicate Maupeou, who
crushed them?  And you, dear Sir, will you now chide my apostacy?
Have-I not cleared myself to your eyes?  I do not see a shadow of
sound logic in all Monsieur Seguier's but in his proposing that
the soldiers should work on the roads, and that passengers should
contribute to their fabric; though, as France is not so
luxuriously mad as England, I do not believe passengers could
support the expense of the roads.  That argument, therefore, is
like another that the Avocat proposes to the King, and which, he
modestly owns, he believes would be impracticable.

I beg your pardon, Sir, for giving you this long trouble; but I
could not help venting myself, when shocked to find such renegade
conduct in a Parliament that I was rejoiced had been restored.
Poor human kind! is it always to breed serpents from its own
bowels? In one country, it chooses its representatives, and they
sell it and themselves--in others, it exalts despots--in another,
it resists the despot when he consults the good of his people!
Can we -wonder mankind is wretched, when men are such beings?
Parliaments run wild with loyalty, when America is to be enslaved
or butchered.  They rebel, when their country is to be set free!
I am not surprised at the idea of the devil being always at our
elbows.  They who invented him, no doubt could not conceive how
men could be so atrocious to one another, without the
intervention of a fiend.  Don't you think, if he had never been
heard of before, that he would have been invented on the late
partition of Poland!  Adieu, dear Sir.  Yours most sincerely.

(247) An English physician long settled at Paris, no less
esteemed for his professional knowledge, than for his kind
attention to the poor who applied to him for medical assistance.

(248) The first lit de justice held by Louis XVI.

(249) Messieurs de Malesherbes and Turgot.  When the intrigues
which had been set on foot to overthrow the administration of
Turgot had accomplished that object, an event which took place
shortly after the date of this letter Louis XVI requested
Malesherbes to remain in office; but when he refused to do so,
seeing that his friend Turgot had been dismissed, Louis conscious
of the increased anxieties in which he should be involved,
exclaimed, with a sigh, "Que vous `etes heureux! que ne Puis-je
aussi quitter ma place."-E.

(250) Monsieur de Seguier.



Letter 107 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
April 16, 1776. (page 153)

You will be concerned, my good Sir, for what I have this minute
heard from his nephew, that poor Mr. Granger was seized at the
communion table on Sunday With an apoplexy, and died yesterday
morning at five.  I have answered the letter with a word of
advice about his manuscripts, that they may not fall into the
hands of booksellers.  He had been told by idle people so many
gossiping stories, that it would hurt him and living persons, to
be printed; for as he Was incapable of 1, if all his collections
were telling an untruth himself, he suspected nobody else--too
great goodness in a biographer.

P. S. The whole world is occupied with the Duchess of Kingston's
trial.(251)  I don't tell you a word of it; for you will not care
about it these two hundred years.

(251) in Westminster Hall, before the House of Peers, for
intermarrying with the Duke of Kingston during the lifetime of
her first husband.  She was found guilty, but, pleading her
privilege, was discharged without any punishment.  Hannah More
gives the following description of the scene:--"Garrick would
have me take his ticket to go to the trial f the Duchess of
Kingston; a sight which, for beauty and magnificence, exceeded
any thing which those who were never present at a coronation or a
trial by peers can have the least notion of.  Mrs. Garrick and I
were in full dress by seven.  You will imagine the bustle of five
thousand people getting into one hall! yet, in all this hurry, we
walked in tranquilly.  When they were all seated, and the
King-at-arms had commanded silence, on pain of imprisonment,
(which, however, was very ill observed,) the gentleman of the
black rod was commanded to bring in his prisoner.  Elizabeth,
calling herself Duchess dowager of Kingston, walked in, led by
Black Rod and Mr. La Roche, courtesying profoundly to her judges.
The peers made her a slight bow.  The prisoner was dressed in
deep mourning; a black hood on her head; her hair modestly
dressed and powdered; a black silk sacque, with crape trimmings;
black gauze, deep ruffles, and black gloves.  The counsel spoke
about an hour and a quarter each. Dunning's manner is
insufferably bad, coughing and spitting at every three words, but
his sense and his expression pointed to the last degree: he made
her grace shed bitter tears.  The fair victim had four virgins in
white behind the bar.  She imitated her great predecessor, Mrs.
Rudd, and affected to write very often, though I plainly
perceived she only wrote, as they do their love epistles on the
stage, without forming a letter.  The Duchess has but small
remains of that beauty of which kings and princes were once so
enamoured.  She looked much like Mrs. Pritchard.  She is large
and ill-shaped; there was nothing white but her face and, had it
not been for that, she would have looked like a bale of
bombazeen.  There was a great deal of ceremony, a great deal of
splendour, and a great deal of nonsense: they adjourned upon the
most foolish pretences imaginable, and did nothing with such an
air of business as was truly ridiculous.  I forgot to tell you
the Duchess was taken ill, but performed it badly."  In a
subsequent letter, she says--"I have the great satisfaction of
telling you that Elizabeth, calling herself Duchess-dowager of
Kingston, was, this very afternoon, Undignified and unduchessed,
and very narrowly escaped being burned in the hand.  If you have
been half as much interested against this unprincipled, artful,
licentious woman as I have, you will be rejoiced at it as I am.
Lord Camden breakfasted with us.  He is very angry that she was
not burned in the hand.  He says, as he was once a professed
lover of hers, he thought it would have looked ill-natured and
ungallant for him to propose it; but that he should have acceded
to it most heartily, though he believes he should have
recommended a cold iron." Memoirs, vol. i. Pp. 82, 85.-E.



  Letter 108 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.

Strawberry Hill, June 1, 1776. (page 154)

Mr. Granger's papers have been purchased by Lord Mount
Stewart,(252) who has the frenzy of portraits as well as I; and,
though I am at the head of the sect, I have no longer the rage of
propagating it, nor would I on any account take the trouble of
revising and publishing the manuscripts.  Mr. Granger had drowned
his taste for portraits in the ocean of biography; and, though he
began with elucidating prints, he at last only sought prints that
he might write the lives of those they represented.  His work was
grown and growing so voluminous, that an abridgment only could
have made it useful to collectors.  I am not surprised that you
wilt not assist Kippis;(253) Bishop Laud and William Prynne could
never agree.  You are very justly more averse to Mr. Masters who
is a pragmatic fellow, and at best troublesome.

If the agate knives you are so good as to recommend to me can be
tolerably authenticated, have any royal marks, or, at least, old
setting of the time, and will be sold for two guineas, I should
not dislike having them - though I have scarce room to stick a
knife and fork.  But if I trouble you to pay for them, you must
let me know all I owe you already, for I know I am in your debt
for prints and pamphlets, and this new debt will make the whole
considerable enough to be remitted.  I have lately purchased
three apostle-spoons to add to the one you was so kind as to give
me.  What is become of Mr. Essex? does he never visit London? I
wish I could tempt him thither or hither.  I am not only thinking
of building my offices in a collegiate style, for which I have a
good design and wish to consult him, but am actually wanting
assistance at this very moment, about a smaller gallery that I
wish to add' this summer; and which, if Mr. Essex was here, he
should build directly.

It is scarce worth asking him to take the journey on purpose,
though I would pay for his journey hither and back, and would
lodge him here for the necessary time.  I can only beg you to
mention it to him as an idle jaunt, the object is so trifling.  I
wish more that YOU Could come with him: do you leave your poor
parishioners and their souls to themselves?  if you do, I hope
Dr. Kippis will seduce them.  Yours ever.

(252) John Lord Mountstuart; in March 1796, created Marquis of
Bute.  He died in Geneva in November 1814, when the marquisate
descended to his grandson.-E.

(253) Dr. Andrew Kippis, well-known for the active part he took
in producing the second edition of the" Biographia Britannnica,
of which he was the editor, and in a great measure the writer.
He had applied to 'Mr. Cole for assistance; and Walpole's
satisfaction at Cole's refusal is to be accounted for by the fact
of Kippis having threatened to expose Sir Robert Walpole in the
course of that work.  Walpole had called the " Biographia
Britannica" an apology for every body.  This Kippis happened to
hear of; upon which he is said to have retorted, "that the Life
of Sir Robert Walpole should prove that the Biographia was not an
apology for every body.'-E.



Letter 109 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Strawberry Hill, June 11, 1776. (page 155)

I am grieved, and feel for your gout; I know the vexations and
disappointments it occasions, and how often it will return when
one thinks it going or gone: it represents life and its
vicissitudes.  At last I know it makes me content when one does
not feel actual pain,--and what contents may be called a
blessing; but it is a sort of blessing that extinguishes hopes
and views, and is not so luxurious but one can bear to relinquish
it.  I seek amusements now to amuse me; I used to rush into them,
because I had an impulse and wished for what I sought.  My want
of Mr. Essex has a little of both kinds, as it is for an addition
to this place, for which my fondness is not worn out.  I shall be
very glad to see him here either on the 20th or 21st of this
month, and shall have no engagement till the 23d, and will gladly
pay his journey.  I am sorry I must not hope that you will
accompany him.



Letter 110 To The Hon. H. S. Conway.
Strawberry Hill, June 30, 1776. (page 156)

I was very glad to receive your letter, not only because always
most glad to hear of you, but because I wished to write to you,
and had absolutely nothing to say till I had something to answer.
I have lain but two nights in town since I saw you; have been,
else, Constantly here, very much employed, though doing, hearing.
knowing exactly nothing.  I have had a Gothic architect from
Cambridge to design me a gallery, Which will end in a mouse, that
is, in an hexagon closet, of seven feet diameter.  I have been
making a beauty-room, which was effected by buying two dozen of
small copies of Sir Peter Lely, and hanging them up; and I have
been making hay, which is not made, because I put it off for
three days, as I chose it should adorn the landscape when I was
to have company; and so the rain is come, and has drowned it.
However, as I can even turn calculator when it is to comfort me
for not minding my interest, I have discovered that it is five to
one better for me that my hay should be spoiled than not-, for,
as the cows will eat it if it is damaged, which horses will not,
and as I have five cows and but one horse, is not it plain that
the worse my hay is the better?  Do not you with your refining
head go, and, out of excessive friendship, find out something to
destroy my system.  I had rather be a philosopher than a rich
man; and yet have so little philosophy, that I had much rather be
content than be in the right.

Mr. Beauclerk and Lady Di.(254) have been here four or five days
-so I had both content and exercise for my philosophy.  I wish
Lady Ailesbury was as fortunate!  The Pembrokes, Churchills, Le
Texier, as you will have heard, and the Garricks have been with
us.  Perhaps, if alone, I might have come to you--but you are all
too healthy and harmonious.  I can neither walk nor sing -nor,
indeed, am fit for any thing but to amuse myself in a sedentary
trifling way.  What I have most certainly not been doing, is
writing any thing: a truth I say to you, but do not desire you to
repeat.  I deign to satisfy scarce any body else.  Whoever
reported that I was writing any thing, must have been so totally
unfounded, that they either blundered by guessing without reason,
or knew they lied-and that could not be with any kind intention;
though saying I am going to do what I am not going to do, is
wretched enough.  Whatever is said of me without truth, any body
is welcome to believe that pleases.  In fact, though I have
scarce a settled purpose about any thing, I think I shall never
write any more.  I have written a great deal too much, unless I
had written better, and I know I should now only write still
worse.  One's talent, whatever it is, does not improve at
sixty-yet, if I liked it, I dare say a good reason would not stop
my inclination;--but I am grown most indolent in that respect,
and most absolutely indifferent to every purpose of vanity.  Yet
without vanity I am become still prouder and more contemptuous.
I have a contempt for my countrymen that makes me despise their
approbation.  The applause of slaves and of the foolish mad is
below ambition.  Mine is the haughtiness of an ancient Briton,
that cannot write what would please this age, and would not, if
he could.  Whatever happens in America this country is undone.  I
desire to be reckoned of the last age, and to be thought to have
lived to be superannuated, preserving my senses only for myself
and for the few I value.  I cannot aspire to be traduced like
Algernon Sydney, and content myself with sacrificing to him
amongst my lares.  Unalterable in my principles, careless about
most things below essentials, indulging myself in trifles by
system, annihilating myself by choice, but dreading folly at an
unseemly age, I contrive to pass my time agreeably enough, yet
see its termination approach without anxiety.  This is a true
picture of my mind; and it must be true, because drawn for you,
whom I would not deceive, and could not, if I would.  Your
question on my being writing drew it forth, though with more
seriousness than the report deserved--yet talking to one's
dearest friend is neither wrong nor out of season.  Nay, you are
my best apology.  I have always contented myself with your being
perfect, or, if your modesty demands a mitigated term, I will
say, unexceptionable.  It is comical, to be sure, to have always
been more solicitous about the virtue of one's friend than about
one's own-yet, I repeat it, you are my apology -though I never
was so unreasonable as to make you answerable for my faults in
return; I take them wholly to myself.  But enough of this.  When
I know my own mind, for hitherto I have settled no plan ,for my
summer, I will come to you.  Adieu!

(254) Lady Diana Spencer, daughter of Charles, Duke of
Marlborough; born in 1734; married, in 1757, to Viscount
Bolingbroke; from whom she was divorced in 1768, and married
immediately after to Mr. Topham Beauclerk.-E.



Letter 111 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
July 23, 1776. (page 157)

You are so good to me, my dear Sir, that I am quite ashamed.  I
must not send back your charming present, but wish you would give
me leave to pay for it, and I shall have the same obligation to
you, and still more.  It is beautiful in form and colours, and
pleases me excessively.  In the mean time, I have in a great
hurry (for I came home but at noon to meet Mr. Essex) chosen out
a few prints for you, Such as I think you will like, and beg you
to accept them: they enter Into no one of my sets.  I am heartily
grieved at your account of yourself, and know no comfort but
submission.  I was absent to 'General Conway, who is far from
well.  We must take our lot as it falls! joy and 'sorrow is mixed
till the scene closes.  I am out of spirits, and shall not mend
yours.  Mr. Essex is just setting out, and I write in great
haste, but am, as I have so long been, most truly yours.



Letter 112To The Rev. Mr. Cole
Strawberry Hill, July 24, 1776. (page 158)

I wrote to you yesterday, dear Sir, not only in great haste, but
in great confusion, and did not say half I ought to have done for
the pretty vase you sent me, and for your constant obliging
attention to me.  All I can say is, that gratitude attempted even
in my haste and concern to put in its word: and I did not mean to
pay you, (which I hope you will really allow me to do) but to
express my sensibility of your kindness.  The fact was, that to
avoid disappointing Mr. Essex, when I had dragged him hither from
Cambridge, I had returned hither precipitately, and yet late,
from Park-place whither I went the day before to see General
Conway, who has had a little attack of the paralytic kind.  You,
who can remember how very long and dearly I have loved so near a
relation and particular friend, and who are full of nothing but
friendly sensations, can judge how shocked I was to find him more
changed than I expected.  I suffered so much in constraining and
commanding myself, that I was not sorry, as the house was full of
relations, to have the plea of Mr. Essex, to get away, and came
to sigh here by myself.  It is, perhaps, to prevent my concern
that I write now.  Mr. Conway is in no manner of danger, is
better, his head nor speech are affected, and the physicians, who
barely allow the attack to be of the paralytic nature, are clear
it is local, in the muscles of the face.  Still has it operated
such a revolution in my mind, as no time, at my age, can efface.
It has at once damped every pursuit which my spirits had even now
prevented me from being weaned from, I mean a Virt`u.  It is like
a mortal distemper in myself; for can amusements amuse, if there
is but a glimpse, a vision, of outliving one's friends?  I have
had dreams in which I thought I wished for fame--it was not
certainly posthumous fame at any distance: I feel, I feel, it was
confined to the memory of those I love.  It seems to me
impossible for a man who has no friends to do any Thing for
fame--and to me the first position in friendship is, to intend
one's friends should survive one-but it is not reasonable to
oppress you, who are suffering gout, with my melancholy ideas.
Let me know as you mend.  What I have said, will tell you, what I
hope so many years have told you, that I am very constant and
sincere to friends of above forty years.  I doubt Mr. Essex
perceived that my mind was greatly bewildered- He gave me a
direction to Mr. Penticross, who I recollect, Mr. Gray, not you,
told me was turned a Methodist teacher.  He was a blue-coat boy,
and came hither then to some of my servants, having at that age a
poetic turn.  As he has reverted to it, I hope the enthusiasm
will take a more agreeable plea.  I have not heard of him for
many Years, and thought he was settled somewhere near Cambridge:
I find it is at Wallingford.  I wonder those madmen and knaves do
not begin to wear out, as their folly is no longer new, and as
knavery can turn its hand to any trade according to the humour of
the age, which in countries like this is seldom constant.  Yours
most faithfully.



Letter 113 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Strawberry Hill, August 19, 1776. (page 159)

I have time but to write you a line, and it is as usual to beg
your help in a sort of literary difficulty.  I have received a
letter dated , "Catherine Hall" from "Ken. Prescot," whom I doubt
I have forgotten; for he begins "Dear Sir," and I protest I
cannot recollect him, though I ought.  He says he wants to send
me a few classical discourses, and e speaks with respect of my
father, and, by his trembling hand, seems an old man.  All these
are reasons for my treating him with great regard; and, being
afraid of hurting him, I have written a short and very civil
answer, directed to the "Rev. Dr. Prescot." God knows whether he
is a clergyman or a doctor, and perhaps I may have betrayed my
forgetfulness; but I -thought it was best to err on the over
civil side.  Tell me something about him; I dread his Discourses.
Is he the strange man that a few years ago sent me a volume of an
uncommon form, and of more uncommon matter?  I suspect so.(255)

You shall certainly have two or three of my prints by Mr. Essex
when he returns hither and hence, and any thing else you will
command.  I am just now in great concern for the terrible death
of General Conway's son-in-law, Mr. Damer,(256) of which,
perhaps, you in your solitude have not heard.-You are happy who
take no part but in the past world, for the mortui non mordent,
nor do any of the extravagant and distressing things that perhaps
they did in their lives.  I hope the gout, that persecutes even
in a hermitage, has left you.  Yours most sincerely.

(255) Dr. Kenrick Prescot, master of Catherine Hall, and author
of a quarto volume, published at Cambridge in 1773, entitled,
"Letters concerning Homer the Sleeper, in Horace; with additional
classic Amusements."-E.

(256) John, eldest son of Joseph Damer, Esq, Lord Milton;
afterwards Earl of Dorchester.-E.



Letter 114 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Strawberry Hill, Sept. 9, 1776. (page 160)

May I trouble you, dear Sir, when you see our friend Mr. Essex,
to tell him that the tower is covered in, and that whenever he
has nothing to do, after this week, I shall be very glad to see
him here, if he will only send me a line two or three days
beforehand.  I have carried this little tower higher than the
round one, and it has an exceedingly pretty effect, breaking the
long line of the house picturesquely, and looking very ancient.
I must correct a little error in the spelling of a name in the
pedigree you was so kind as to make out for me last year.  The
Derehaughs were not of Colton, but of Coulston-hall.  This I
discovered only this morning.  On opening a patch-box that
belonged to my mother, and which I have not opened for many
years, I found an extremely small silver collaring, about this
size--O--but broad and flat.  I remember it was in an old satin
bag of coins that my mother found in old Houghton when she first
married.  I call it a collar from the breadth; for it would not
be large enough for a fairy's lap-dog.  It was probably made for
an infant's little finger, and must have been for a ring, not a
collar; for I believe, though she was an heiress, young ladies
did not elope so very early in those days.  I never knew how it
came into the family, but now it is plain, for the inscription on
the outside is, "of Coulstonhall, Suff." and it is a confirmation
of your pedigree.  I have tied it to a piece of paper, with a
long inscription, and it is so small, it will not be melted down
for the weight; and if not lost from its diminutive person, may
remain in the family a long while, and be preserved when some
gamester may Spend every other bit of silver he has in the world;
at least, if one would make heir-looms now, one must take care
that they have no value in them.

P. S.  I was turning over Edmonson this evening, and observed an
odd occurrence of circumstances in the present Lord
Carmarthen.(257) By his mother he is the representative of the
great Duke of Marlborough, and of old Treasurer Godolphin;(258)
by his father, of the Lord treasurer Duke of Leeds;(259) and by
his grandmother, is descended from the Lord-treasurer
Oxford.(260)  Few men are so well ancestored in so short a
compass of time.

(257) Francis Godolphin, Marquis of Carmarthen, only surviving
son of Thomas Duke of Leeds; and who, upon the death of his
father, in 17 9 succeeded to the dukedom.-E

(258) Mary Duchess of Leeds, wife of Thomas, fourth duke, was
second daughter, and eventually sole heiress, of Francis Earl Of
Godolphin, by Henrietta Duchess of Marlborough, eldest daughter
and coheir of the great Duke of Marlborough.-E.

(259) Sir Thomas Osborne, lord high treasurer of England, the
first Duke of Leeds; who, having been successively honoured with
the Barony of Osborne, the Viscounty of Latimer, the Earldom of
Danby, and the Marquisate Of Carmarthen, was, on the 4th of May
1694, created Duke of Leeds.-E.

(260) Elizabeth, the first wife of Peregrine Hyde, third Duke of
Leeds, was the youngest daughter of Robert Harley, the great Earl
of Oxford.-E.



Letter 115 To The Hon. H. S. Conway.
Strawberry Hill, Thursday, Oct. 31, 1776. (page 161)

Thank you for your letter.  I send this by the coach.  You will
have found a new scene,(261) not an unexpected one by you and me,
though I do not pretend I thought it so near.  I rather imagined
France would have instigated or winked at Spain's beginning with
us.  Here is a solution of the Americans declaring themselves
independent.  Oh! the folly, the madness, the guilt of having
plunged us into this abyss!  Were we and a few more endued with
any uncommon penetration?  No: they who did not see as far, would
not.  I am impatient to hear the complexion of to-day.  I suppose
it will, on the part of administration, have been a wretched
farce of fear, daubed over with airs of bullying.  You, I do not
doubt, have acted like yourself, feeling for our situation, above
insulting, and unprovoked but at the criminality that has brought
us to this pass.  Pursue your own path, nor lean to the court
that may be paid to you on either side, as I am sure you will not
regard their being displeased that you do not go as far as their
interested views may wish.  If the court should receive any more
of what they call good news, I think the war with France will be
unavoidable.  It was the victory at Long Island(262) and the
frantic presumption it occasioned, that has ripened France's
measures--And now we are to awe them by pressing--an act that
speaks our impotence!--which France did not want to learn!

I would have come to town, but I had declared so much I would
not, that I thought it would look as if I came to enjoy the
distress of the ministers-but I do not enjoy the distress of my
country.  I think we are undone; I have always thought so--
whether we enslaved America, or lost it totally--so we that were
against the war could expect no good issue.  If you do return to
Park-place to-morrow, you will oblige me much by breakfasting
here - you know it wastes you very little time.

'I am glad I did not know of Mrs. Damer's sore throat till it is
almost well.  Pray take care and do not catch it.

Thank you for your care of me: I will not stay a great deal here,
but at present I never was better in my life-and here I have no
vexatious moments.  I hate to dispute; I scorn to triumph myself,
and it is very difficult to keep my temper when others do.  I own
I have another reason for my retirement, which is prudence.  I
have thought of it late, but, at least, I will not run into any
new expense.  it would cost me more than I care to afford to buy
a house in town, Unless I do it to take some of my money out of
the stocks, for which I tremble a little.  My brother is seventy;
and if I live myself, I Must not build too much on his life; and
you know, if he fails, I lose the most secure part of my income.
I refused from Holland, and last year from Lord North, to accept
the place for my own life; and having never done a dirty thing, I
will not disgrace myself at fifty-nine.  I should like to live as
well as I have done; but what I wish more, is to secure what I
have already saved for those I would take care of after me.
These are the true reasons of my dropping all thought of a better
house in town, and of living so privately here.  I -will not
sacrifice my health to my prudence; but my temper is so violent,
that I know the tranquillity I enjoy here in solitude is of much
more benefit to my health, than the air of the country is
detrimental to it.  You see I can be reasonable when I have time
to reflect; but philosophy has a poor chance with me when my
warmth is stirred--and yet I know, that an angry old man out of
parliament, and that can do nothing but be angry, is a ridiculous
animal.

(261) On the opening of the session.

(262) On the 17th of August 1776, when the English army, under
the command of General Howe, defeated the Americans at Flat Bush,
in Long Island.-E.



Letter 116 To The Earl Of Strafford.
Strawberry Hill, Nov. 2, 1776. (page 162)

Though inclination, and consciousness that a man of my age, who
is neither in parliament nor in business, has little to do in the
world, keep me a good deal out of it, yet I will not, my dear
lord, encourage you in retirement; to which, for the interest of
your friends, you have but too much propensity.  The manners of
the age cannot be agreeable to those who have lived in something
soberer times; nor do I think, except in France, where old people
are never out of fashion, that it is reasonable to tire those
whose youth and spirits may excuse some dissipation.  Above all
things, it is my resolution never to profess retirement, lest,
when I have lost all my real teeth, the imaginary one, called a
colt's, should hurry me back and make me ridiculous.  But one
never outlives all one's contemporaries; one may assort with
them.  Few Englishmen, too, I have observed, can bear solitude
without being hurt by it.  Our climate makes us capricious, and
we must rub off our roughness and humours against one another.
We have, too, an always increasing resource, which is, that
though we go not to the young, they must come to us: younger
usurpers tread on their heels, as they did on ours, and revenge
us that have been deposed.  They may retain their titles, like
Queen Christina, Sir M * * * N * * *, and Lord Rivers; but they
find they have no subjects.  If we could but live long enough, we
should hear Lord Carlisle, Mr. Storer, etc. complain of the airs
and abominable hours of the youth of the age.  YOU see, my dear
lord, my easy philosophy can divert itself with any thing, even
with visions; which perhaps is the best way of treating the great
vision itself, life.  For half one's time one should laugh with
the world, the other half at it--and then it is hard if we want
amusement.

I am heartily glad, for your lordship's and Lady Anne Conolly's
sakes, that General Howe(263) is safe.  I sincerely interest
myself for every body you are concerned for.  I will say no more
on a subject on which I fear I am so unlucky as to differ very
much with your lordship, having always fundamentally disapproved
our conduct with America.  indeed, the present prospect of war
with France, when we have so much disabled ourselves, and are
exposed in so many quarters, is a topic for general lamentation,
rather than for canvassing Of Opinions, which every man must form
for himself: and I doubt the moment is advancing when we shall be
forced to think alike, at least on the present.

I have not yet above a night at a time in town--but shall be glad
to give your lordship and Lady Strafford a meeting there whenever
you please.  Your faithful humble servant.

(263) General Sir William Howe, brother of the Admiral, was then
commander-in-chief of the British forces in America.  He was
married to a daughter of Lady Anne Conolly, and consequently to a
niece of Lord Strafford.-E.



Letter 117 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Strawberry Hill, Dec. 9, 1776. (page 163)

I know you love an episcopal print, and, therefore, I send you
one of two, that have just been given to me.  As you have time
and patience, too, I recommend you to peruse Sir John Hawkins's
History Of Music.(264)  It is true, there are five huge volumes
in quarto, and perhaps you may not care for the expense; but
surely you can borrow them in the University, and, though you may
no more than I, delight in the scientific, there is so much about
cathedral service, and choirs, and other old matters, that I am
sure you will be amused with a great deal, particularly the two
last volumes, and the facsimiles of old music in the first.  I
doubt it is a work that will not sell rapidly, but it must have a
place in all great libraries.

(264) A work full of amusement, and deserving of Walpole's good
word, notwithstanding the witty criticism which Dr. Calcott
passed upon it in his well known catch, "Have You Sir John
Hawkins's History?" in which he makes the name of the rival work,
"Burney's (Burn-HIS) History," express the fate which Hawkins's
volumes deserved.-E.



Letter 118 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Arlington Street, Feb. 20, 1777. (page 163)

Dear Sir,
You are always my oracle in any antique difficulties.  I have
bought at Mr. Ives's(265) sale (immensely dear) the shutters of
the altar at Edmondsbury: Mr. Ives had them from Tom Martin,(266)
who married Peter Leneve's widow; so you see no shutters can be
better descended on the mother's side.  Next to high birth,
personal merit is something: in that respect, my shutters are far
from defective: on the contrary, the figures in the inside are so
very good, as to amaze me who could paint them here in the reign
of Henry VI.; they are worthy of the Bolognese school--but they
have suffered in several places, though not considerably.  Bowes
is to repair them, under oath of only filling up the cracks, and
restoring the peelings off, but without repainting or varnishing.

The possession of these boards, invaluable to me, was essential.
They authenticate the sagacity of my guesses, a talent in an
antiquary coequal with prophecy in a saint.  On the outside is an
archbishop, unchristened by the late possessors, but evidently
Archbishop Kempe, or the same person with the prelate in my
Marriage of Henry VI.,_ and you will allow from the collateral
evidence that it must be Kempe, as I have so certainly discovered
another person in my picture.  The other outside is a cardinal,
called by Mr. Ives, Babington; but I believe Cardinal Beaufort,
for the lion of England stands by him, which a bastardly prince
of the blood was more likely to assume than a true one.  His face
is not very like, nor very unlike, the face in my picture; but
this is -shaven.-But now comes the great point.  On the inside is
Humphrey Duke of Gloucester kneeling--not only exactly resembling
mine as possible, but with the same almost bald head, and the
precisely same furred robe.  An apostle-like personage stands
behind him, holding a golden chalice, as his royal highness's
offering, and, which is remarkable, the duke's velvet cap of
state, with his coronet of strawberry-leaves.

I used to say, to corroborate my hypothesis, that the skull of
Duke Humphrey at St. Alban's was very like the form of head in my
picture, which argument diverted the late Lord Holland
extremely--but I trust now that nobody will dispute any longer my
perfect acquaintance with all Dukes of Gloucester.--By the way,
did I ever tell You that when I published my Historic Doubts on
Richard III., my niece's marriage not being then acknowledged,
George Selwyn said, he did not think I should have doubted about
the Duke of Gloucester?  On the inside of another shutter is a
man unknown: he is in a stable, as Joseph might be, but over him
hangs a shield of arms, that are neither Joseph's nor Mary's.
The colours are either black and white, or so changed as not to
be distinguishable. * * " * I conclude the person who is in red
and white was the donor of the altar-piece, or benefactor; and
what I want of you is to discover him and his arms; and to tell
me whether Duke Humphrey, Beaufort, Kempe, and Babington were
connected with St. Edmondsbury, or whether this unknown person
was not a retainer of Duke Humphrey, at least of the royal
family.

At the same sale I bought a curious pair, that I conclude came
from Blickling, with Hobart impaling Boleyn from which latter
family the former enjoyed that seat.  How does this third winter
of the season agree with you? The wind to-day is sharper than a
razor, and blows icicles into one's eyes.  I was confined for
seven weeks with the gout " yet am so well recovered as to have
been abroad to-day, though it is as mild under the pole.

Pray can you tell me the title of the book that Mr. Ives
dedicated to me? I never saw it, for he was so odd (I cannot call
it modest, lest I should seem not so myself) as never to send it
me, and I never could get it.  Yours truly.

(265) John Ives the antiquary, author of "Remarks upon the
Garianonum of the Romans the Site and Remains fixed and
described."-E.

(266) Tom Martin of Palgrave, the well known antiquary, whose
"History of Thetford"was published in 1779, by Gough, who has
prefixed to it a Biographical Sketch of the Author.-E.



Letter 119 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
February 27, 1777. (page 165)

You see, dear Sir, that we thought on each other just at the same
moment; but, as usual, you was thinking of obliging me, and I, of
giving YOU trouble.  You have fully satisfied me of the Connexion
between the Lancastrian Princes and St. Edmondsbury.  Edmondson,
I conclude, will be able to find out the proprietor of the arms,
impaling Walrond.

I am well acquainted with Sir A. Weldon(267) and the Aulicus
Coquinanae,(268) and will return them with Mr. Ives's tracts,
which I intend to buy at the sale of his books.  Tell me how I
may convey them to you most safely.  You say, "Till I show an
inclination to borrow more of your MSS."  I hope you do not think
my appetite for that loan is in the least diminished.  I should
at all minutes, and ever, be glad to peruse them all--but I was
not sure you wished to send them to me, though you deny me
nothing--and my own fear of their coming to any mischance made me
very modest about asking for them--but now, whenever you can send
me any of them with perfect security, I eagerly and impudently
ask to see them: you cannot oblige me more, I assure you.

I am sorry Dr. E * * n is got into such a dirty scrape.  There is
scarce any decent medium observed at present between wasting
fortunes and fabricating them--and both by any disreputable
manner; for, as to saving money by prudent economy, the method is
too slow in proportion to consumptions: even forgery, alas!(269
seems to be the counterpart or restorative of the ruin by gaming.
I hope at least that robbery on the highway will go out of
fashion as too piddling a profession for gentlemen.

I enclose a card for your friends, but must advertise them that
March is in every respect a wrong month for seeing Strawberry.
It not only wants its leaves and beauty then, but most of the
small pictures and curiosities, which are taken down and packed
up in winter, are not restored to their places till the weather
is fine and I am more there.  Unless they are confined in time,
your friends had much better wait till May-but, however, they
will be very welcome to go when they please.  I am more
personally interested in hoping to See you there this summer--you
must visit my new tower.  Diminutive as it is, it adds much to
the antique air of the whole in both fronts.  You know I shall
sympathize with your gout, and you are always master of your own
hours.

(267) Sir Anthony Weldon was the author of "The Court and
Character of King James; written and taken by Sir A. W., being an
eye and ear witness." London, 1650.  A work which has been
pronounced, by competent authority, " a despicable tissue of
filth and obscenity, of falsehood and malignity."-E.

(268) "Aulicus Coquinanae; or, an Answer to the Court and
Character of King James." London, 1650.  This work has been
ascribed to William Sanderson, and to Dr. Heylin; and is, as well
as Weldon's, reprinted in the "Secret History of the Court of
King James." Edinburgh, 1811-E.

(269) Alluding to Dr. Dodd; whose trial for forgery had taken
place on the 22d, at the Old Bailey.-E.



Letter 120 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Arlington Street, May 22, 1777. (page 166)

It is not Owing to forgetfulness, negligence, or idleness--to
none of which I am subject, that you have not heard from me since
I saw you, dear Sir, but to my miserable occupation with my poor
nephew, who engrosses my whole attention, and will, I doubt,
destroy my health, if he does not recover his.  I have got him
within fourteen miles of town with difficulty.  He is rather
worse than better, may recover in an instant, as he did last
time, or remain in his present sullenness.  I am far from
expecting he should ever be perfectly in his senses; which, in my
opinion, he scarce ever was.  His intervals expose him to the
worst people ; his relapses overwhelm me.

I have-put together some trifles I promised you, and will beg Mr.
Lort to be the bearer when he goes to Cambridge, if I know of it.
At present I have time for nothing I like.  My age and
inclination call for retirement: I envied your happy hermitage,
and leisure to follow your inclination.  I have always lived
post, and shall not die before I can bait-yet it is not my wish
to be unemployed, could I but choose my occupations.  I wish I
could think of the pictures you mention, or had time to see Dr.
Glynn and the master of Emmanuel.  I doat on Cambridge, and could
like to be often there.  The beauty of King's College Chapel, now
it is restored, penetrated me with a visionary longing to be a
monk in it; though my life has been passed in turbulent scenes,
in pleasures-or rather pastimes, and in much fashionable
dissipation, still books, antiquity, and virt`u kept hold of a
corner of my heart, and since necessity has forced me of late
years to be a man of business, my disposition tends to be a
recluse for what remains-but it will not be my lot: and though
there is some excuse for the young doing what they like, I doubt
an old man should do nothing but what he ought, and I hope doing
one's duty is the best preparation for death.  Sitting with one's
arms folded to think about it, is a very lazy way of preparing
for it.  If Charles V.  had resolved to make some amends for his
abominable ambition by doing good, his duty as a King, there
would have been infinitely more merit than going to doze in a
convent.(270)  One may avoid active guilt in a sequestered life;
but the virtue of it is merely negative, though innocence is
beautiful.

I approve much of 'Your corrections on Sir J. Hawkins, and send
them to the Magazine.  I want the exact blazon of William of
Hatsfield his arms,--I mean the Prince buried at York.  Mr. Mason
and I are going to restore his monument, and I have not time to
look for them-: I know you will be so good as to assist.  Yours
most sincerely.

(270) "The Spaniard, when the lust of sway
Had lost its quickening spell,
Cast crowns for rosaries away,
An empire for a cell!

"A strict accountant of his beads,
A subtle disputant on creeds,
His dotage trifled well:
Yet better had  he neither known
A bigot's shrine nor despot's throne." Byron.-E.



Letter 121 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Strawberry Hill, June 19, 1777. (page 167)

I thank YOU for your notices, dear Sir, and shall remember that
on Prince William.  I did see the Monthly Review, but hope one is
not guilty of the death of every man who does not make one the
dupe of a forgery.  I believe M'Pherson's success with Ossian was
more The ruin of Chatterton than I.  Two years passed between my
doubting the authenticity of Rowley's(271) poems and his death.
I never knew he had been in London till some time after he had
undone and poisoned himself there.  The poems he sent me were
transcripts in his own hand, and even in that circumstance he
told a lie: he said he had them from the very person at Bristol
to whom he had given them.  If any man was to tell you that
monkish rhymes had been dug up at Herculaneum, which was
destroyed several centuries before there was any such poetry,
should you believe it?  Just the reverse is the case of Rowley's
pretended poems.  They have all the elegance of Waller and Prior,
and more than Lord Surrey--but I have no objection to any body
believing what he pleases.  I think poor Chatterton was an
astonishing genius-but I cannot think that Rowley foresaw metres
that were invented long after he was dead, or that our language
was more refined at Bristol in the reign of Henry V. than it was
at court under Henry VIII.  One of the chaplains of the Bishop of
Exeter has found a line of Rowley in Hudibras-the monk might
foresee that too!  The prematurity of Chatterton's genius is,
however, full as wonderful, as that such a prodigy as Rowley
should never have been heard of till the eighteenth century.  The
youth and industry of the former are miracles, too, yet still
more' credible.  There is not a symptom in the poems, but the old
words, that savours of Rowley's age--change the old words for
modern, and the whole construction is of yesterday.

(271) See in Walpole's Works, vol. iv. the Papers relative to
Chatterton; see also vol- i. P. 61 of this collection.-E.



Letter 122 To The Hon. H. S. Conway.
Strawberry Hill, July 10, 1777. (page 168)

Don't be alarmed at this thousandth letter in a week.  This is
more to Lady Hamilton(272) than to you.  Pray tell her I have
seen Monsieur la Bataille d'.Agincourt.(273)  He brought me her
letter yesterday: and I kept him to sup, sleep in the modern
phrase, and breakfast here this morning; and flatter myself he
was, and she will be, content with the regard I paid to her
letter.

The weather is a thought warmer to-day, and I am as busy as bees
are about their hay.  My hayssians(274) have cost me as much as
if I had hired them of the Landgrave.(275)

I am glad your invasion(276) is blown over.  I fear I must invite
those flat-bottomed vessels hither, as the Swissess Necker has
directed them to the port of Twickenham.  Madame de Blot is too
fine, and Monsieur Schomberg one of the most disagreeable, cross,
contemptuous savages I ever saw.  I have often supped with him at
the Duchess de Choiseul's, and could not bear him; and now I must
be charm`e, and p`en`etr`e, and combl`e, to see him: and I shall
act it very ill, as I always do when I don't do what I like.
Madame Necker's letter is as affected and pr`ecieuse, as if
Marmontel had written it for a Peruvian milk-maid.  She says I am
a philosopher, and as like Madame de S`evign`e as two peas--who
was as unlike a philosopher as a gridiron.  As I have none of
Madame de S`evign`e's natural easy wit, I am rejoiced that I am
no more like a philosopher neither, and still less like a
philosophe; which is a being compounded of D'Urfey and Diogenes,
a pastoral coxcomb, and a supercilious brute.

(272) The first wife of Sir William Hamilton, envoy extraordinary
at the court of Naples.  She was a Miss Barlow-E.

(273) M. le Chevalier d'Agincourt, a French antiquary, long
settled in Italy.  1. B. L. Seroux d'Agincourt, born at Beauvais
in 1730, died at Rome in 1814, having, during thirty-six years,
laboured assiduously in the composition of his grand work,
"Histoire de l'Art par les Monumens depuis sa D`ecadence au
Quatri`eme Si`ecle jusqu'`a son Renouvellement au Seizi`eme".  Of
this splendid book, in six vols. folio, which was not published
until 1823, nine years after the death of the author, an
interesting review will be found in the seventh volume of the
Foreign Quarterly Review.-E.

(274) Hessians.

(275) An allusion to the seventeen thousand which had been hired
for the American service, by treaties entered into the preceding
year with the Landgravine of Hesse Cassel, the Duke of Brunswick,
and the Hereditary Prince of Hesse Cassel.-E.

(276) A party of French nobility then in England, who were to
have made a visit at Parkplace.



Letter 123 To Robert Jephson, Esq.(277)
Strawberry Hill, July 13, 1777. (page 169)

You have perhaps, Sir, paid too much regard to the observations I
took the liberty to make, by your order, to a few passages in
"Vitellia," and I must hope they were in consequence of your own
judgment too.  I do not doubt of its success on the stage, if
well acted but I confess I would answer for nothing with the
present set of actors, who are not capable in tragedy of doing
any justice to it.  Mrs. Barry seems to me very unequal to the
principal part, to which Mrs. Yates alone is suited.  Were I the
author, I should be very sorry to have my tragedy murdered,
perhaps miscarry.  Your reputation is established; you will never
forfeit it yourself-and to give your works to unworthy performers
is like sacrificing a daughter to a husband of bad character.  As
to my offering it to Mr. Colman, I could merely be the messenger.
I am scarce known to him, have no right to ask a favour of him,
and I hope you know me enough to think that I am too conscious of
my own insignificance and private situation to give myself an air
of protection, and more particularly to a work of yours, Sir.
What could I say, that would carry greater weight, than "This
piece is by the author of Braganza?"(278)

A tragedy can never suffer by delay: a comedy may, because the
allusions or the manners represented in it maybe temporary.  I
urge this, not to dissuade your presenting Vitellia to the stage,
but to console you if both theatres should be engaged next
winter.  My own interests, from my time of life, would make me
with reason more impatient than you to see it represented, but I
am jealous of the honour Of your poetry, and I should grieve to
see Vitellia, at Covent-garden not that, except Mrs. Yates, I
have any partiality to the tragic actors at Drury-lane, though
Smith did not miscarry in Braganza-but I speak from experience.
I attended "Caractacus" last winter, and was greatly interested,
both from my friendship for Mr. Mason and from the excellence of
the poetry.  I was out of all patience; for though a young Lewis
played a subordinate part very well, and Mrs.  Hartley looked her
part charmingly, the Druids were so massacred and Caractacus so
much worse, that I never saw a more barbarous exhibition.
Instead of hurrying "The Law of Lombardy,"(279) which, however, I
shall delight to see finished, I again wish you to try comedy.
To my great astonishment there were more parts performed
admirably in "The School for Scandal,"(280) than I almost ever
saw in any play.  Mrs. Abington was equal to the first of her
profession, Yates, the husband, Parsons, Miss Pope, and Palmer,
all shone.  It seemed a marvellous resurrection of the stage.
Indeed, the play had as much merit as the actors.  I have seen no
comedy that comes near it since the "Provoked Husband."

I said I was Jealous of your fame as a poet, and I truly am.  The
more rapid your genius is, labour will but the more improve it.
I am very frank, but I am sure that my attention to your
reputation will excuse it.  Your facility in writing exquisite
poetry may be a disadvantage; as it may not leave you time to
study the other requisites of tragedy so much as is necessary.
Your writings deserve to last for ages; but to make any work
last, it must be finished in all parts to perfection.  You have
the first requisite to that perfection, for you can sacrifice
charming lines, when they do not tend to improve the whole.  I
admire this resignation so much, that I wish to turn it to your
advantage.  Strike out your sketches as suddenly as you please,
but retouch and retouch them, that the best judges may for ever
admire them.  The works that have stood the test of ages, and
been slowly approved at first, are not those that have dazzled
contemporaries and borne away their applause, but those whose
intrinsic and laboured merit have shone the brighter on
examination.  I would not curb your genius, Sir, if I did not
trust it would recoil with greater force for having obstacles
presented to it.

You will forgive my not having sent you the "Thoughts on Comedy,"
(281) as I promised, I have had no time to look them over and put
them into shape.  I have been and am involved in most unpleasant
affairs of family, that take up my whole thoughts and attention.
The melancholy situation of my nephew Lord Orford, engages me
particularly, and I am not young enough to excuse postponing
business and duties for amusement.  In truth, I am really too old
not to have given up literary pleasures.  Nobody will tell one
when one grows dull, but one's time of life ought to tell it one.
I long ago determined to keep the archbishop in Gil Blas in my
eye.  when I should advance to his caducity; but as dotage steals
in at more doors than one, perhaps the sermon I have been
preaching to you is a symptom of it.  You must judge of that,
Sir.  If I fancy I have been wise, and have only been peevish,
throw my lecture into the fire.  I am sure the liberties I have
taken with you deserve no indulgence, if you do not discern true
friendship at the bottom of them.

(277) Now first printed.
Robert Jephson, Esq. was born in Ireland in 1736.  He attained
the rank of captain in the 73d regiment, and when it was reduced
at the peace of 1763, he retired on half-pay, and procured,
through the influence of Mr. Gerard Hamilton, a Pension on the
Irish establishment.  Besides several tragedies, he wrote the
farce of "Two Strings to your Bow," and "Roman Portraits," a
poem. Hardy, in his Memoirs of Lord Charlemont, says, "he was
much caressed 'and sought after by several of the first societies
in Dublin, as he possess'd much wit and pleasantry, and, when not
overcome by the spleen, was extremely amusing and entertaining."
He was a member of the Irish House of Commons, and died in 1803.
Walpole's "Thoughts on Tragedy" had been addressed, in 1775, to
this gentleman.-E.

(278) "Braganza" came out at Drury-lane theatre in 1775, and was
very successful.  Walpole supplied the epilogue.-E.

(279) "The Law of Lombardy" was brought out at Drury-lane in
1779, but was only acted nine nights.-E.


(280) Sheridan's "School for Scandal" was first performed at
Drury-lane on the 8th of May, 1777.

(281) Walpole's "Thoughts on Comedy" were written in 1775 and
1776, and will be found in his Works.-E.



Letter 124 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Strawberry Hill, August 31, 1777. (page 171)

You are very kind, dear Sir, in giving me an account of your
health and occupations, and inquiring after mine.  I am very
sorry you are not as free from gout, as I have been ever since
February; but I trust it will only keep you from other
complaints, and never prevent your amusing yourself, which you
are one of those few happy beings that can always do; and your
temper is so good, and your mind so naturally philosophic,
composed, and contented, that you neither want the world, care
about it, nor are affected by any thing that occurs in it.  This
is true wisdom, but wisdom which nothing can give but
constitution.  Detached amusements have always made a great part
of my own delight, and have sown my life with some of its best
moments.  My intention was, that they should be the employments
of my latter years, but fate seems to have chalked out a very
different scene for me! The misfortune of my nephew has involved
me in business, and consequently care, and opens a scene of
disputes, with which I shall not molest your tranquillity.

The dangerous situation in which his Royal Highness the Duke of
Gloucester has been, and out of which I doubt he is scarce yet
emerged, though better, has added more thorns to my uneasy mind.
The Duchess's daughters are at Hampton-court, and partly under my
care.  In one word, my whole summer has been engrossed by duties,
which has confined me at home, without indulging myself in a
single pursuit to my taste.

In short, as I have told you before, I often wish myself a monk
at Cambridge.  Writers on government condemn, very properly, a
recluse life, as contrary to Nature's interest, who loves
procreation; but as Nature seems not very desirous that we should
procreate to threescore years and ten, I think convents very
suitable retreats for those whom our Alma Mater does not
emphatically call to her Opus Magnum.  And though, to be sure,
gray hairs are fittest to conduct state affairs, yet as the
Rehoboams of the world (Louis XVI. excepted) do not always trust
the rudder of government to ancient hands, old gentlemen,
methinks, are very ill placed [when not at the council-board] any
where but in a cloister.  As I have no more vocation to the
ministry than to carrying on my family, I sigh after a dormitory;
and as in six weeks my clock will strike sixty, I wish I had
nothing more to do with the world.  I am not tired of living,
but-what signifies sketching visions? One must take one's lot as
it comes; bitter and sweet"are poured into every cup.  To-morrow
may be pleasanter than to-day.  Nothing lasts of one colour.  One
must embrace the cloister, or take the chances of the world as
they present themselves; and since uninterrupted happiness would
but embitter the certainty that even that must end, rubs and
crosses should be softened by the same consideration.  I am not
so busied, but I shall be very glad of a sight of your
manuscript, and will return it carefully.  I will thank you, too,
for the print of Mr. Jenyns, which I have not, nor have seen.'
Adieu! Yours most cordially.



Letter 125 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Strawberry Hill, Sept. 16, 1777. (page 172)

I have received your volume safely, dear Sir, and hasten to thank
you before I have read a page, that you may be in no pain about
its arrival.  I will return it with the greatest care as soon as
I have finished it, and at the same time will send Mr. Essex the
bills, as I beg you will let him know.  I have no less reason for
writing immediately, to thank you for the great confidence you
place in me.  You talk of nonsense; alas! what are all our
opinions else? if we search for truth before we fix our
principles, what do we find but doubt?  And which of us begins
the search a tabula rasa? Nay, where can we hunt but in volumes
of error or purposed delusion?  Have not we, too, a bias in our
Minds--our passions?  They will turn the scale in favour of the
doctrines most agreeable to them.  Yet let us be a little vain:
you and I differ radically in our principles, and yet in forty
years they have never cast a gloom over our friendship.  We could
give the world a reason that it would not like.  We have both
been sincere, have both been consistent, and neither adopted our
principles nor have varied them for our interest.

Your labour, as far as I am acquainted with it, astonishes me: it
shows what can be achieved by a man that does not lose a moment;
and, which is still better, how happy the man is who can always
employ himself I do not believe that the proud prelate, who would
not make you a little happier, is half so much to be envied.
Thank you for the print of Soame Jenyns: it is a proof of Sir
Joshua's art, who could give a strong resemblance of so uncouth a
countenance without leaving it disagreeable.

The Duke of Gloucester is miraculously revived.  For two whole
days I doubted whether he was not dead.  I hope fatalists and
omenmongers will be confuted; and thus, as his grandfather broke
the charm of the second of the name being an unfortunate prince,
the Duke will baffle that, which has made the title of Gloucester
unpropitious.  Adieu!



Letter 126 To The Hon. H. S. Conway.
Tuesday evening, Sept. 16, 1777. (page 173)

I have got a delightful plaything, if I had time for play.  It is
a new sort of camera-obscura(282) for drawing the portraits of
persons, or prospects, or insides of rooms, and does not depend
on the sun or any thing.  The misfortune is, that there is a vast
deal of machinery and putting together, and I am the worst person
living for managing it.  You know I am impenetrably dull in every
thing that requires a grain of common sense.  The inventor is to
come to me on Friday, and try if he can make me remember my right
hand from my left.  I could as soon have invented my machine as
manage it; yet it has cost me ten guineas, and may cost me as
much more as I please for improving it.  u will conclude it was
the dearness tempted me.  I believe I must keep an astronomer,
like Mr. Beauclerk, to help me play with my rattle.  The
inventor, who seems very modest and simple, but I conclude an
able flatterer, was in love with my house, and vowed nothing ever
suited his camera so well.  To be sure, the painted windows and
the prospects, and the Gothic chimneys, etc. etc. were the
delights of one's eyes, when no bigger than a silver penny.  You
would know how to manage it, as if you had never done any thing
else.  Had not you better come and see it? You will learn how to
conduct it, with the pleasure of correcting my awkwardness and
unlearnability.  Sir Joshua Reynolds and West have each got one;
and the Duke of Northumberland is so charmed with the invention,
that I dare say he can talk upon and explain it till I should
understand ten times less of the matter than I do.  Remember,
neither Lady Ailesbury, nor you, nor Mrs. Damer, have seen my new
divine closet, nor the billiard-sticks with which the Countess of
Pembroke And Arcadia used to play with her brother Sir Philip;
nor the portrait of la belle Jennings in the state bedchamber.  I
go to town this day s'ennight for a day or two; and as, to be
sure, Mount Edgecumbe has put you out of humour with Park-place,
you may deign to leave it for a moment.  I never did see
Cotchel,(283) and am sorry.  Is not the old wardrobe there still?
There was one from the time of Cain; but Adam's breeches and
Eve's under-petticoat were eaten by a goat in the ark.
Good-night!

(282) The machine called a Delineator.

(283) The old residence of the family of Edgecumbe, twelve miles
distant from Mount Edgecumbe.



Letter 127 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Strawberry Hill, Sept. 22, 1777. (page 173)

I return YOU Your manuscript, dear Sir, with a thousand thanks,
and shall be impatient to hear that you receive it safe.  It has
amused me much, and I admire Mr. Baker(284) for having been able
to show so much sense on so dry a subject.  I wish, as you say
you have materials for it, that you would write his life.  He
deserved it much more than most of those he has recorded.  His
book on the Deficiencies of Learning is most excellent, and far
too little known.  I admire his moderation, too, which was
extraordinary in a man who had suffered so much for his
principles.  Yet they warped even him, for he rejects Bishop
Burnet's character of Bishop Gunning in p. 200, and yet in the
very next page gives the same character of him. Burnet's words
are, "he had a great confusion of things in his head, but could
bring nothing into method:" pray compare this with p. 201.  I see
nothing in which they differ, except that Mr. Burnet does not
talk so much of his comeliness as Mr. Baker.

I Shall not commend your moderation, when you excuse such a man
as Bishop Watson.  Nor ought you to be angry with Burnet, but
with the witnesses on whose evidence Watson was convicted.  To
tell you the truth, I am glad when such faults are found with
Burnet; for it shows his enemies are not angry at his telling
falsehoods, but the truth.  Must not an historian say a bishop
was convicted Of Simony, if he was?  I will tell you what was
said of Burnet's History, by one whose testimony you yourself
would not dispute--at least you would not in any thing else.
That confessor said, "Damn him, he has told a great deal of
truth, but where the devil did he learn it?" This was St.
Atterbury's testimony.

I shall take the liberty of reproving you, too, dear Sir, for
defending that abominable murderess Queen Christina--and how can
you doubt her conversation with Burnet?  you must know there are
a thousand evidences of her laughing at the religion she
embraced.  If you approve her, I will allow YOU to Condemn Lord
Russel and Algernon Sidney.  Well, as we shall never have the
same heroes, we Will not dispute about them, nor shall I find
fault when you have given me so much entertainment: it would be
very Ungrateful, and I have a thousand obligations to you, and
want to have more.  I want to see more of your manuscripts: they
are full of curiosities, and I love some of your heroes, too: I
honour Bishop Fisher, and love Mr. Baker.  If I might choose, I
should like to see your account of the persons educated at
King's-but as you may have objections, I insist, if you have,
that you make me no word of answer.  It is, perhaps, impertinent
to ask it, and silence will lay neither of us under any
difficulty.  I have no right to make such a request, nor do now,
but on the foot of its proving totally indifferent to you.  You
will make me blame
myself, if it should a moment distress you; and I am sure you are
too good-natured to put me out of humour with myself, which your
making no answer would not do.

I enclose my bills for Mr. Essex, and will trouble you to send
them to him.  I again thank you, and trust you will be as
friendly free with me, as I have been with you: you know I am a
brother monk in every thing but religious and political opinions.
I only laugh at the thirty' nine articles: but abhor Calvin as
much as I do the Queen of Sweden, for he was as thorough an
assassin.  Yours ever.

P. S. As I have a great mind, and, indeed, ought, when I require
it, to show moderation, and when I have not, ought to confess it,
which I do, for I Own I am not moderate on certain points; if you
are busy yourself and will send me the materials, I will draw up
the life 4 Mr. Baker; and, if you are not content with it, you
shall burn it in Smithfield.  In good truth, I revere
conscientious martyrs, of all sects, communions, and parties--I
heartily pity them, if they are weak men.  When they are as
sensible as Mr. Baker, I doubt my own understanding more than
his.  I know I have not his virtues, but should delight in doing
justice to them; and, perhaps, from a man of a different party
the testimony would be more to his honour.  I do not call myself
of different principles; because a man that thinks himself bound
by his oath, can be a man of no principle if he violates it.  I
do not mean to deny that many men might think King James's breach
of his oath a dispensation from theirs; but, if they did not
think so, or did not think their duty to their country obliged
them to renounce their King, I should never defend those who took
the new oaths from interest.

(284) Thomas Baker, the learned author of "Reflections on
Learning, wherein is shown the insufficiency thereof in its
several particulars, in order to evince the usefulness and
necessity Of Revelation;" a work which has gone through numerous
editions, and /was at one time one of the most popular books in
the language, He was born at Durham in 1656, and died in the
office of commoner master of st. John's College, Cambridge, in
July 1740.-E.



Letter 128 To Robert Jephson, Esq.(285)
Strawberry Hill, Oct. 1, 1777. (page 175)

To confer favours, Sir, is certainly not giving trouble: and had
I the most constant occupation, I should contrive to find moments
for reading your works.  I have passed a most melancholy summer,
from different distresses in my family; and though my nephew's
situation and other avocations prevent my having but very little
time for literary amusements, I did not mean to debar myself of
the pleasure of hearing from my friends.  Unfortunately, at
present, it is impossible for me to profit of your kindness; not
from my own business, but from the absence of Mr. Garrick.  He is
gone into Staffirdshire to marry a nephew, and thence will pass
into Wales to superintend a play that is to be acted at Sir
Watkin Williams's.  I am even afraid I shall not be the first
apprised of his return, as I possibly may remove to town in
expectation of the Duchess of Gloucester,' before he is at home
again.  I shall not neglect my own satisfaction; but mention this
circumstance, that you may not suspect me of inattention, if I
should not get sight of your tragedy so soon as I wish.  I am,
Sir, with great regard.

(285) Now first printed.



Letter 129 To The Hon. H. S. Conway.
Oct. 5, 1777. (page 176)

You are so exceedingly good, I shall assuredly accept your
proposal in the fullest sense, and to ensure Mrs. Damer, beg I
may expect you on Saturday next the 11th.  If Lord and Lady
william Campbell will do me the honour of accompanying YOU, I
shall be most happy to see them, and expect Miss Caroline.(286)
Let me know about them that the state bedchamber may be aired.

My difficulties about removing from home arise from the
consciousness of my own weakness.  I make it a rule, as much as I
can, to conform wherever I go.  Though I am threescore to-day, I
should not think that an age for giving every thing up; but it
is, for whatever one has not strength to perform.  You, though
not a vast deal younger, are as healthy and strong, thank God! as
ever you was: and you cannot have ideas of the mortification of
being stared at by strangers and servants, when one hobbles, or
cannot do as others do.  I delight in being with you, and the
Richmonds, and those I love and know; but the crowds of young
people, and Chichester folks, and officers, and strange servants,
make me afraid of Goodwood, I own My spirits are never low; but
they seldom will last out the whole day; and though I dare to say
I appear to many capricious, and different from the rest of the
world, there is more reason in my behaviour than there seems.
You know in London I seldom stir out in a morning, and always
late; it is because I want a great deal of rest.  Exercise never
did agree with me: and it is hard if I do not know myself by this
time; and what has done so well for me will probably suit me best
for the rest of my life.  It would be ridiculous to talk so much
of myself, and to enter into such trifling details, but you are
the person in the world that I wish to convince that I do not act
merely from humour or ill-humour; though I confess at the same
time that I want your bonhommie, and have a disposition not to
care at all for people that I do not absolutely like.  I could
say a great deal more on this head, but it is not proper; though,
when one has pretty much done with the world, I think with Lady
Blandford, that One may indulge one's self in one's own whims and
partialities in one's own house.  I do not mean, still less to
profess, retirement, because it is less ridiculous to go on with
the world to the last, than to return to it; but in a quiet way
it has long been my purpose to drop a great deal of it.  Of all
things I am farthest from not intending to come often to
Park-place, whenever you have little company; and I had rather be
with you, in November than July, because I am so totally unable
to walk farther than a snail.  I will never say any more on these
subjects, because there may be as much affectation in being over
old, as folly in being over young.  My idea of age is, that one
has nothing really to do but what one ought, and what is
reasonable.  All affectations are pretensions; and pretending to
be any thing one is not, cannot deceive when one is known, as
every body must be That has lived long.  I do not mean that old
folks may not have pleasures if they can; but then I think those
pleasures are confined to being comfortable, and to enjoying the
few friends one has not outlived.  I am so fair as to own, that
one's duties are not pleasures.  I have given up a great deal of
my time to nephews and nieces, even to some I can have little
affection for.  I do love my nieces, nay like them; but people
above forty years younger are certainly not the society I should
seek.  They can only think and talk of what is, or is to come; I
certainly am more disposed to think and talk of what is past: and
the obligation of passing the end of a long life in sets of
totally new company is more irksome to me than passing a great
deal of my time, as I do, quite alone.  Family love and pride
make me interest myself about the young people of my own
family-for the whole rest of the Young world, they are as
indifferent to me as puppets or black children.  This is my
creed, and a key to my whole conduct, and the more likely to
remain my creed, as I think it is raisonn`e.  If I could paint my
Opinions instead of writing them I don't know whether it would
not make a new sort of alphabet-I should use different colours
for different affections at different ages.  When I speak of
love, affection, friendship, taste, liking, I should draw them
rose colour, carmine, blue, green, yellow, for my contemporaries:
for new comers, the first would be of no colour; the others,
purple, brown, crimson, and changeable.  Remember, one tells
one's creed only to one's confessor, that is sub sigillo.  I
write to you as I think; to others as I must.  Adieu!

(286) Miss Caroline Campbell, eldest daughter of Lord William
Campbell.



Letter 130 To Robert Jephson, Esq.(287)
Strawberry Hill, Oct. 17, 1777. (page 177)

Mr. Garrick returned but two days ago, Sir, and I did not receive
your tragedy(288) till this morning; so I could only read it once
very rapidly and without any proper attention to particular
passages though, even so, some struck me as very fine.  You have
encouraged me rather to criticise than flatter you; and you are
in the right, for you have even profited of so weak a judgment as
mine, and always improved the passages I objected to.  Indeed,
this is not quite a fair return, as it was inverting my method,
by flattering instead of finding fault with me; and a critic that
meets with submission, is apt to grow vain, and insolent, and
capricious.  Still as I am persuaded that all criticisms, though
erroneous, before an author appeals to the public, are friendly,
I will fairly tell you what parts of your tragedy have struck me
as objectionable on so superficial a perusal.

In general, the language appears to me too metaphoric; especially
as used by all the characters.  You seem to me to have imitated
Beaumont and Fletcher, though your play is superior to all
theirs.  In truth, I think the diction is sometimes obscure from
being so figurative, especially in the first act.  Will you allow
me to mention two instances?

"And craven Sloth, moulting his sleepless plumes,
Nods drowsy wonder at th' adventurous wing
That soars the shining azure o'er his head."

I own I do not understand why Sloth's plumes are sleepless; and I
think that nodding wonder, and soaring azure, are expressions too
Greek to be so close together, and too poetic for dialogue.  The
other passage is--

"The wise should watch th' event on Fortune's wheel,"

and the seven following lines.  The images are very fine, but
demand more attention than common audiences are capable of.  In
Braganza every image is strikingly clear.

I am afraid I am not quite satisfied with the conduct of your
piece.  Bireno's conduct on the attack on the princess seems too
precipitate, and not managed.  It is still more incredible, that
Paladore should confess his passion to his rival; and not less
so, that a private man and a stranger should doubt the princess's
faith, when she had preferred him to his rival, a prince of the
blood and her destined husband; and that without the smallest
inquiry he should believe Bireno was admitted privately to her
apartment, when on her not rejecting him, he might have access to
her openly.  One cannot conceive her meaning in offending her
father by refusing so proper a match, `and intriguing with the
very man she was to marry, and whom she had refused.  Paladore's
credulity is not of a piece with the account given of his wisdom,
which had made him admitted to the king'S Counsels.

I think, when you bestow Sophia on Paladore, you forget that the
king had declared he was obliged to give his daughter to a prince
of his own blood; nor do I see any reason for Bireno's stabbing
Ascanio, who was sure of being put to death when their treachery
was discovered.

The character of the princess is very noble and well sustained.
When I said I did not conceive her meaning, I expressed myself
ill.  I did not suppose she, did intrigue with Bireno; but I
meant that it was not natural Paladore should suspect she did,
since it is inconceivable that a princess should refuse her
cousin in marriage for the mere caprice of intriguing with him.
Had she managed her father, and, from the dread of his anger,
temporized about Bireno, Paladore would have had more reason to
doubt her.  Would it not too be more natural for Bireno to
incense the king against Paladore than to endeavour to make the
latter jealous of Sophia?  At least I think Bireno would have
more chance of Poisoning Paladore's mind, if he did not discover
to him that he knew of his passion.  Forgive me, Sir but I cannot
reconcile to probability Paladore's believing that Sophia had
rejected Bireno for a husband, though it would please her father,
and yet chose to intrigue with him in defiance of so serious and
extraordinary a law.  Either his credulity or his jealousy reduce
Paladore to a lover very unworthy of such a woman as Sophia.  For
her sake I wish to see him more deserving of her.

You are so great a poet, Sir, that you have no occasion to labour
any thing but your plots.  You can express any thing you please.
If the conduct is natural, you will not want words.  Nay, I
rather fear your indulging your poetic vein too far, for your
language is sometimes sublime enough for odes, which admit the
height of enthusiasm, which Horace will not allow to tragic
writers.  You could set up twenty of our tragic authors with
lines that you could afford to reject, though for no reason but
their being too fine, as in landscape-painting some parts must be
under-coloured to give the higher relief to the rest.  Will you
not think me too difficult and squeamish, when I find the
language of "The Law of Lombardy" too rich?

I beg your pardon, but it is more difficult for you to please me,
than any body.  I interest myself in your success and your glory.
You must be perfect in all parts, in nature, simplicity, and
character, as well as in the most charming poetry, or I shall not
be content.  If I dared, I would beg you to trust me with your
plots, before you write a line.  When a subject seizes you, your
impetuosity cannot breathe till you have executed your plan.  You
must be curbed, as other poets want to be spurred.  When your
sketch is made, you must study the characters and the audience.
It is not flattering you to say, that the least you have to do is
to write your play.

(287) Now first printed.

(288) "The Law of Lombardy;" see ant`e, p. 170, letter 123.-E.



Letter 131 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Strawberry Hill, Oct. 19, 1777. (page 179)

Thank you much, dear sir, for the sight of the book, which I
return by Mr. Essex It is not new to me that Burnet paid his
court on the other side in the former part of his life* nor will
I insist that he changed On conviction, which might be said, and
generally is, for all converts, even those who shift their
principles the most glaringly from interest.  Duke
Lauderdale,(289) indeed, was such a dog, that the least honest
man must have been driven to detest him, however connected with
him.  I doubt Burnet could not be blind to his character, when he
wrote the dedication.  In truth, I have given up many of my
saints, but not on the accusations of such wretches as
Dalrymple(290) and Macpherson;(291) nor can men, so much their
opposites, shake my faith in Lord Russel and Algernon Sidney.  I
do not relinquish those that scaled their integrity with their
blood, but such as have taken thirty pieces of silver.

I was sorry you said we had any variance.  We have differed in
sentiments, but not in friendship.  Two men, however unlike in
principles, may be perfect friends, when both are sincere in
their opinions as we are.  Much less shall we quarrel about those
of our separate parties, since very few on either side have been
so invariably consistent as you and I have been; and therefore we
are more sure of each other's integrity, than that of men whom we
know less and who did vary from themselves.  As you and I are
only speculative persons, and no actors, it would be very idle to
squabble about those that do not exist.  In short, we are, I
trust, in as perfect good humour with each other as we have been
these forty years.

Pray do not hurry yourself about the anecdotes of Mr. Baker, nor
neglect other occupations on that account.  I shall certainly not
have time to do any thing this year.  I expect the Duke and
Duchess of Gloucester in a very few days, must go to town as soon
as they arrive, and shall probably have not much idle leisure
before next summer.

It is not very discreet to look even so far forward, nor am I apt
any longer to lay distant plans.  A little sedentary literary
amusement is indeed no very lofty castle in the air, if I do lay
the foundation in idea seven or eight months beforehand.

Whatever manuscripts you lend me, I shall be very grateful for.
They entertain me exceedingly, and I promise you we will not have
the shadow of an argument about them.  I do not love disputation,
even with those most indifferent to me.  Your pardon I most
sincerely beg for having contested a single point with you.  I am
sure it was not with a grain of ill-humour towards you: on the
contrary, it was from wishing at that moment that you did not
approve though I disliked--but even that I give up as
unreasonable.

You are in the right, dear Sir, not to apply to Masters for any
papers he may have relating to Mr. Baker.(292)  It is a trumpery
fellow', from whom one would rather receive a refusal than an
obligation.

I am sorry to hear Mr. Lort has the gout, and still more
concerned that you still suffer from it.  Such patience and
temper as yours are the only palliatives.  As the bootikins have
so much abridged and softened my fits, I do not expect their
return with the alarm and horror I used to do, and that is being
cured of one half the complaints.  I had scarce any pain last
time, and did not keep my bed a day, and had no gout at all in
either foot.  May not I ask you if this is not some merit in the
bootikins? To have cured me of my apprehensions is to me a vast
deal, for now the intervals do not connect the fits.  You will
understand, that I mean to speak a word to you in favour of the
bootikins, for can one feel benefit, and not wish to impart it to
a suffering friend? Indeed I am yours most sincerely.

(289) John second Earl of Lauderdale, who, having distinguished
himself-by his zealous and active exertions in the royal cause
during the civil wars, was, after the restoration created in May
1672, Marquis Of March and Duke of Lauderdale, in Scotland.-E.

(290) Sir John Dalrymple, author of "Memoirs of Great Britain and
Ireland." Edinburgh, 1771-1773-1788; 3 vols. 4to.-E.

(291) James M'Pherson, the editor of Ossian, who had published a
"History of Great Britain from the Restoration in 1660 to the
Accession of the House of Hanover," 1775, 2 Vols. 4to - and also
"An Introduction to the History of Great Britain and Ireland."
London, 4to. 1771.-E.

(292) The papers which Masters possessed he himself eventually
published, in 1784, under the title of,, Memoirs of the Life and
Writings of Thomas Baker, from the Papers of Dr. Zachary Grey:
with a Catalogue of his Manuscript Collections. By R.
Masters."-E.



Letter 132 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Arlington Street, March 31, 1778. (page 181)

I did think it long, indeed, dear Sir, since I heard from you,
and am very sorry the gout was the cause.  I hope after such long
persecution you will have less now than you apprehend.  I should
not have been silent myself, had I had any thing to tell you that
you would have cared to hear.

Politics have been the only language, and abuse the only
expression of the winter, neither of which are, or deserve to be,
inmates of your peaceable hermitage.  I wish, however, they may
not have grown so serious as to threaten every retreat with
intrusion! I will let you know when I am settled at
Strawberry-hill, and can look over your kind collections relating
to Mr. Baker.  He certainly deserves his place in the Biographia,
but I am not surprised that you would not submit to his being
instituted and inducted by a Presbyterian.  In troth, I, who have
not the same zeal against dissenters, do not at all desire to
peruse the History of their Apostles, which are generally very
uninteresting.

YOU must excuse the shortness of this, in which, too, I have been
interrupted: my nephew is as suddenly recovered as he did last
time; and, though I am far from thinking him perfectly in his
senses, a great deal of his disorder is removed, which, though it
will save me a great deal of trouble, hurries me at present, and
forces me to conclude.



Letter 133 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Strawberry Hill, April 23, 1778. (page 181)

I thank you, dear Sir, for the notice of William Le
Worcestre's(293) appearance, and will send for my book as soon as
I go to town, which will not be till next week.  I have been here
since Friday as much a hermit as yourself.  I wanted air and
quiet, having been much fatigued on my nephew's amendment, trying
to dissuade him from making the campaign with his militia; but in
vain! I now dread hearing of some eccentric freak.  I am sorry
Mr. Tyson has quite dropped me, though he sometimes comes to
town.  I am still more concerned at your frequent disorders-I
hope their chief seat is unwillingness to move.

Your Bakeriana will be very welcome about June: I shall not be
completely resident here till then, at least not have leisure, as
May is the month I have most visits from town.  As few spare
hours as I have, I have contrived to go through Mr. Pennant's
Welsh Tour, and Warton's second Volume;(294) both which come
within the circle of your pursuits.  I have far advanced, too, in
Lord Hardwicke's first volume of State Papers.(295)  I have yet
found nothing that appears a new scene, or sets the old in a new
light; yet they are rather amusing, though not in proportion to
the bulk of the volumes.  One likes to hear actors speak for
themselves; but, on the other hand, they use a great many more
words than are necessary: and when one knows the events from
history, it is a little tiresome to go back to the details and
the delays.

I should be glad to employ Mr. Essex on my offices, but the
impending war with France deters me.  It is not a season for
expense!  I could like to leave my little castle complete; but,
though I am only a spectator, I cannot be indifferent to the
aspect of the times, as the country gentleman was, who was going
out with his hounds as the two armies at Edge-hill were going to
engage.  I wish for peace and tranquillity, and should be glad to
pass my remaining hours in the idle and retired amusements I
love, and without any solicitude for my country.  Adieu!

(293) "Itineraria Symonis, Simeonis et Willelmi de Worcestre."
Cantab. 1778, 8vo.; edited by Dr. James Nasmith, who published
the excellent Catalogue of MSS, which Archbishop Parker left to
Corpus Christi College, at Cambridge.-E.

(294) Thomas Warton's "History Of English Poetry."-E.

(295) Miscellaneous State Papers, from 1501 to 1726, published by
the Earl of Hardwicke, in two volumes 4to.-E.



Letter 134 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Arlington Street, May 21, 1778. (page 182)

I will not flatter you: I was not in the least amused with either
Simon, Simeon, or William of Worcestre.  If there was any thing
tolerable in either, it was the part omitted, or the part I did
not read, which was the Journey to Jerusalem, about which I have
not the smallest curiosity.  I thank you for mentioning the
Gentleman's Magazine, which I sent for.

Mr. Essex has called upon me, and left me the drawing of a
bridge, with which I am perfectly pleased-but I was unluckily out
of town; he left no direction, and I know not where to seek him
in this overgrown bottle of hay.  I still hope he will call again
before his return.

May not I, should not I, wish you joy on the restoration of
popery?(296)  I expect soon to see Capuchins tramping about, and
Jesuits in high places.  We are relapsing fast to our pristine
state, and have nothing but our island, and our old religion.

Mr. Nasmith's publication directed me to the MSS.  in Benet
Library, which I did not know was printed.  I found two or three
from which I should be glad to have transcripts, and would
willingly pay for; but I left the book at Strawberry, and must
trouble you another time with that commission.

The city wants to bury Lord Chatham(297) in St. Paul's; which, as
a person said to me this morning, would literally be "robbing
Peter to pay Paul."  I wish it could be so, that there might be
some decoration in that nudity, en attendant the re-establishment
of various altars.  It is not my design to purchase the new
edition of the Biographia; I trust they will give the old
purchasers the additions as a supplement.  I had corrected the
errata of the press, throughout my copy, but I could not take the
trouble of transcribing them, nor could lend them the originals,
as I am apt to scribble notes in the margins of all my books that
interest me at all.  Pray let me know if Baker's Life is among
the additions, and whether you are satisfied with it, as there
could not be events enough in his retired life to justify two
accounts of it.

There are no new old news, and you care for nothing Within the
memory of man.  I am always intending to draw up an account of my
intercourse with Chatterton, which I take very kindly you remind
me of, but some avocation or other has still prevented it.  My
perfect innocence of having indirectly been an ingredient in his
dismal fate, which happened two years after our correspondence,
and after he had exhausted both his resources and his
constitution, have made it more easy to prove that I never saw
him, knew nothing of his ever being in London, and was the first
person, instead of the last, on whom he had practised his
impositions, and founded his chimeric hopes of promotion.  My
very first, or at least second letter, undeceived him in those
views, and our correspondence(298) was broken off before he
quitted his aster's business at Bristol-so that his
disappointment with me was but his first ill success; and he
resented my incredulity so much, that he never condescended to
let me see him.  Indeed, what I have said now to you, and which
cannot be controverted by a shadow of a doubt, would be
sufficient vindication.  I could only add to the proofs, a vain
regret of never having known his distresses, which his amazing
genius would have tempted me to relieve, though I fear he had no
other claim to compassion.  Mr. Warton has said enough to open
the eyes of every one who is not greatly prejudiced to his
forgeries.  Dr. Milles is one who will not make a bow to Dr.
Percy for not being as wilfully blind as himself-but when he gets
a beam in his eye that he takes for an antique truth, there is no
persuading him to submit to be coached.  Adieu!

(296) Walpole alludes to the bill for the Relief of the Roman
Catholics which released their priests from prosecution, and
allowed members of that religion to purchase lands and take them
by descent.  It passed both houses without opposition.-E.

(297) The Earl of Chatham died on the 10th Of May 1778.  His
remains were honoured with a public funeral in Westminster Abbey,
his debts were paid by the nation, and an annuity of four
thousand pounds settled upon the earldom of Chatham.-E.

(298) Walpole's correspondence with Chatterton took place in
March and April 1769.  The death Of the young poet happened in
August 1770, in consequence of a dose Of arsenic, at his lodgings
in Brook-street, Holborn.-E.



Letter 135 To The Rev. William Mason.
[1778.)(299) (page 184)

The purport of Dr. Robertson's visit was to inquire where he
could find materials for the reigns of King William and Queen
Anne, which he means to write as a supplement to David Hume.  I
had heard of his purpose, but did not own I knew it, that my
discouragement might seem the more natural.  I do not care a
straw what he writes about the church's wet-nurse, Goody Anne;
but no Scot is worthy of being the historian of William, but Dr.
Watson.(300)  When he had told me his object, I said, "Write the
reign of King William, Dr. Robertson! That is a great task! I
look on him as the greatest man of modern times since his
ancestor William Prince of Orange." I soon found the Doctor had
very little idea of him, or had taken upon trust the pitiful
partialities of Dalrymple and Macpherson.  I said, "Sir, I do not
doubt but that King William came over with a view to the crown.
Nor was he called upon by patriotism, for he was not an
Englishman to assert our liberties.  No; his patriotism was of a
higher rank.  He aimed not at the crown of England from ambition,
but to employ its forces and wealth against Louis XIV.  for the
common cause of the liberties of Europe.  The Whigs did not
understand the extent of his views, and the Tories betrayed him.
He has been thought not to have understood us; but the truth was,
he took either party as it was predominant, that he might sway
the Parliament to support his general plan." The Doctor,
suspecting that I doubted his principles being enlarged enough to
do justice to so great a character, told me he himself had been
born and bred a Whig, though he owned he was not a moderate one-
-I believe, a very moderate one.  I said Macpherson had done
great injustice to another hero, the Duke of Marlborough, whom he
accuses of betraying the design on Brest to Louis XIV.  The truth
was, as I heard often in my youth from my father, my uncle, and
old persons who had lived in those times, that the Duke trusted
the Duchess with the secret, and she her sister the popish
Duchess of Tyrconnel, who was as poor and as bigoted as a church
mouse.  A corroboration of this was the wise and sententious
answer of King William to the Duke, whom he taxed with having
betrayed the secret.  "upon my honour, Sir," said the Duke, "I
told it to nobody but my wife."  "I did not tell it to mine!"
said the King.

I added, that Macpherson's and Dalrymple's invidious scandals
really serve but to heighten the amazing greatness of the King's
genius; for, if they
say true, he maintained the crown on his head though the
nobility, the churchmen, the country gentlemen, the people were
against him; and though almost all his own ministers betrayed
him--"But," said I, "nothing is so silly as to suppose that the
Duke -of Marlborough and Lord Godolphin ever meant seriously to
          restore King James.  Both had offended him too much to
expect forgiveness, especially from so remorseless a nature.  Yet
a re-revolution was so probable, that it is no wonder they kept
up a correspondence with him, at least to break their fall if he
returned.  But as they never did effectuate the least service in
his favour, when they had the fullest power, nothing can be
inferred but King James's folly in continuing to lean on them.
To imagine they meant to sacrifice his weak daughter, whom they
governed absolutely, to a man who was sure of being governed-by
others, one must have as little sense as James himself had."

The precise truth I take to have been this.  Marlborough and
Godolphin both knew the meanness and credulity of James's
character.  They knew that he must be ever dealing for partisans;
and they might be sure, that if he could hope for support from
the General and the Lord-treasurer he must be less solicitous for
more impotent supporters.  "Is it impossible," said I to the
Doctor, "but they might correspond with the King even by Anne's
own consent? Do not be surprised, Sir," said I: "such things have
happened.  My own father often received letters from the
Pretender, which he always carried to George II and had them
endorsed by his Majesty- I myself have seen them countersigned by
the King's own hand."

In short,.  I endeavoured to impress him with Proper ideas of his
subject, and painted to him the difficulties., and the want of
materials.  But- the booksellers will out-argue me, and the
Doctor will forget his education--Panem et Circenses, if you will
allow me to use the latter for those that are captivated by
favour in the circle, will decide his writing and give the
colour.  I once wished he should write the History of King
William; but his Charles V. and his America have opened my eyes,
and the times have shut his.(301)  Adieu!

(299) This letter, which is without date, was most probably
written in April or May 1778; at which time Dr. Robertson was in
London.-E.

(300) Dr. Watson's History of the Reign of philip II. of Spain
was published, in two quarto volumes, in 1777.-E.

(301) By the life of Dr. Robertson, in Chamvers's  Scottish
Biography, it will be seen, that several persons suggested to him
         a History of Great Britain from the Revolution to the
accession of the House of Hanover; and it appears, from a letter
to Dr. Waddilour, Dean of Rippon, written in July of this year,
that he had made up his mind to encounter the responsibility of
the task, but abandoned   it, in consequence of a correspondence
with his friend, Mr. James Macpherson,         had, three years
before, published a history of the same reigns.-E.



Letter 136 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Strawberry Hill, June 3, 1778. (page 186)

I will not dispute with you, dear Sir, on patriots and politics.
One point is Past controversy, that the ministers have ruined
this country; and if the church of England is satisfied with
being reconciled with the church of Rome, and thinks it a
compensation for the loss of America and all credit in Europe,
she is as silly an old woman as any granny in an almshouse.
France is very glad we are grown such fools, and soon saw that
the Presbyterian Dr. Franklin(302) had more sense than our
ministers together.  She has got over all her prejudices, has
expelled the Jesuits, and made the Protestant Swiss, Necker, her
comptroller-general.  It is a little woful, that we are relapsing
into the nonsense the rest of Europe is shaking off! and it is
more deplorable, as we know by repeated experience, that this
country has always been disgraced by Tory administrations.  The
rubric is the only gainer by them in a few martyrs.

I do not know yet what is settled about the spot of Lord
Chatham's interment.  I am not more an enthusiast to his memory
than you.  I knew his faults and his defects-yet one fact Cannot
Only not be controverted, but I doubt more remarkable every day--
I mean, that under him we attained not only our highest
elevation, but the most solid authority in Europe.  When the
names of Marlborough and Chatham are still pronounced with awe in
France, our little cavils make a puny sound.  Nations that are
beaten cannot be mistaken.

I have been looking out for your friend a set of my heads of
painters, and I find I want six or seven.  I think I have some
odd ones in town; if I have not, I will have deficiencies
supplied from the plates, though I fear they will not be good, as
so many have been taken off.  I should be very ungrateful for all
your kindnesses, if I neglected any opportunity of obliging you,
dear Sir.  Indeed, our old
and unalterable friendship is creditable to us both, and very
uncommon between two persons who differ so much in their opinions
relative to church and state.  I believe the reason is, that we
are both sincere, and never meant to take advantage of our
principles; which I allow is too common on both sides, and I own,
too, fairly more common on my side of the question than on yours.
There is a reason, too, for that; the honours and emoluments are
in the gift of the crown: the nation has no separate treasury to
reward its friends.

If Mr. Tyrwhit(303) has opened his eyes to Chatterton's
forgeries, there is an instance of conviction against strong
prejudice!  I have drawn up an account of my transaction with
that marvellous young man; you shall see it one day or other, but
I do not intend to print it.(304)  I have taken a thorough
dislike to being an author; and if it would not look like begging
you to Compliment me, by contradicting me, I would tell you, what
I am most seriously convinced of, that I find what small share of
parts I had, grown dulled--and when I perceive it myself, I may
well believe that others would not be less sharpsighted.  It is
very natural; mine were spirits rather than parts; and as time
has abated the one, it must surely destroy their resemblance to
the other: pray don't say a syllable in reply on this head, or I
shall have done exactly what I said I would not do.  Besides, as
you have always been too partial to me, I am on my guard, and
when I will not expose myself to my enemies, I must not listen to
the prejudices of my friends; and as nobody is more partial to me
than you, there is nobody I must trust less in that respect.
Yours most sincerely.

(302) Dr. Benjamin Franklin and Silas Deane were publicly
received at the court of France, as ambassadors from America in
the preceding March-.E.

(303) Mr. Tyrwhit, the learned editor of Chaucer's Canterbury
Tales, considered one of the best edited books in the English
language, had, on the appearance of the Rowley Poems, believed
them genuine; but being afterwards convinced of the contrary, he
did not hesitate to avow his conviction.-E.

(304) It was entitled "A Letter to the Editor of the Miscellanies
of Thomas Chatterton," and will be found in the edition of
Walpole's works.-E.



Letter 137 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Strawberry Hill, June 10, 1778. (page 187)

I am as impatient and in as much hurry as you was, dear Sir, to
clear myself from the slightest intention of censuring your
politics.  I know the sincerity and disinterested goodness of
your heart, and when I must be convinced how little certain we
are all of what is truth, it would be very presumptuous to
condemn the opinions of any good man, and still less an old and
unalterable friend, as I have ever found 'You, The destruction
that violent arbitrary principles have drawn on this blinded
country has moved my indignation.  We never were a great and
happy country till the Revolution.  The system of these days
tended to overturn, and has overturned, that establishment, and
brought on the disgraces that ever attended the foolish and
wicked Councils of the house of Stuart.  If man is a rational
being, he has a right to make use of his reason, and to enjoy his
liberty.  We, we alone almost had a constitution that every other
nation upon earth envied or ought to envy.  This is all I contend
for.  I will give you up whatever descriptions of men you please;
that is, the leaders of parties, not the principles.  These
cannot change, those generally do, when power falls into the
hands of them or their party, because men are corruptible, which
truth is not.  But the more the leaders of a party dedicated to
liberty are apt to change, the more I adore the principle,
because it shows that extent of power is not to be trusted even,
with those that are the most sensible of the value of liberty.
Man is a domineering animal; and it has not only been my
principle.  but my practice, too.  to quit every body at the gate
of the palace.  I trust we shall not much differ on these
outlines, but we will bid adieu to the subject.  It is never an
agreeable one to those who do not mean to make a trade of it.

I heartily wish you may not find the pontiff what I think the
order, and what I know him, if you mean the high priest of
Ely.(305)  He is all I have been describing and worse; and I have
too good an opinion of you, to believe that he will ever serve
you.

What I said of disclaiming authorship by no means alluded to Mr.
Baker's life.  It would be enough that you desire it, for me to
undertake it.  Indeed, I am inclined to it because he was what
you and I are, a party-man from principle, not from interest: and
he, who was so candid, surely is entitled to the strictest
candour.  You shall send me your papers whenever you please.  If
I can succeed to your satisfaction, I shall be content: though I
assure you there was no affectation in my saying that I find my
small talent decline.  I shall write the life to oblige you,
without any thoughts of publication, unless I am better pleased
than I expect to be, and even then not in my own life.  I had
rather show that I am sensible of my own defects, and that I have
judgment enough not to hope praise for my writings: for surely
when they are not obnoxious, and one only leaves them behind one,
it is a mark that one is not very vain of them.

I have found the whole set of my Painters, and will send them the
first time I go to town: and I will have my papers on Chatterton
transcribed for you, though I am much chagrined at your giving me
no hope of seeing you again here.  I will not say more of it;
for, while it is in my power, I will certainly make you a visit
now and then, if there is no other way of our meeting Mr.
Tyrwhit, I hear, has actually published an Appendix, in which he
gives up Mr. Rowley.  I have not seen it, but will.  Shall I beg
you to transcribe the passage in which Dr. Kippis abuses my
father and Me;(306) for I shall not buy the new edition, only to
purchase abuse on me and mine: I may be angry with liberties he
takes with Sir Robert, but not with myself; I shall rather take
it as a flattery to be ranked with him; though there can be
nothing worse said of my father than to place us together.  Oh!
that great, that good man! Dr. Kippis may as well throw a stone
at the sun.

I am sorry you have lost poor Mr. Bentham.  Will you say a civil
thing for me to his widow, if she is living, and you think it not
improper? I have not forgotten their kindness to me.  Pray send
me your papers on Mr. Prior's generosity to Mr. Baker.(307)  I am
sorry it was not so.  Prior is much a favourite with me, though a
Tory, nor did I ever hear any thing ill of him.  He left his
party, but not his friends, and seems to me to have been very
amiable.  Do you know I pretend to be very impartial sometimes.
Mr. Hollis(308) wrote against me for not being Whig enough.  I am
offended with Mrs. Macaulay(309) for being too much a Whig.  In
short, we are all silly animals, and scarce ever more so than
when we affect sense.  Yours ever.

(305) Dr. Edmund Keene-E.

(306) See ant`e, p. 155, letter 108.

(307) The Biograpbia Britannica had asserted, that Prior ceded to
Mr. Baker the profits of his fellowship after his expulsion.-E.

(308) Thomas Hollis, Esq.  the editor of Toland's Life of Milton;
Algernon Sidney's Discourses on Government; Algernon Sidney's
Works, etc.  He died in 1774.-E.

(309) The celebrated Catherine Macaulay, well known by her
"History of England."-E.



Letter 138 To The Countess Of Ailesbury.
Strawberry Hill, June 25, 1778. (page 189)

I am quite astonished, Madam, at not hearing of Mr. Conway's
being returned!  What is he doing?  Is he revolting and setting
up for himself, like our nabobs in India? or is he forming
Jersey, Guernsey, Alderney, and Sark, into the united provinces
in the compass of a silver penny?  I should not wonder if this
was to be the fate of our distracted empire, which we seem to
have made so large, only that it might afford to split into
separate kingdoms.  I told Mr. C. I should not write any more,
concluding he would not stay a twinkling; and your ladyship's
last encouraged my expecting him.  In truth, I had nothing to
tell him if he had written.

I have been in town but one single night this age, as I could not
bear to throw away this phoenix June.  It has rained a good deal
this morning, but only made it more delightful.  The flowers are
all Arabian.  I have found but One inconvenience, which is the
hosts of cuckoos: one would not think one was in Doctors'
Commons.  It is very disagreeable, that the nightingales should
sing but half a dozen songs, and the other beasts squall for two
months together.

Poor Mrs. Clive has been robbed again in her own lane, as she was
last year, and has got the jaundice, she thinks, with the fright.
I don't make a visit without a blunderbuss; so one might as well
be invaded by the French.  Though I live in the centre of
ministers, I do not know a syllable of politics; and though
within hearing of Lady Greenwich, who is but two miles off, I
have not a word of news to send your ladyship.  I live like
Berecynthia, surrounded by nephews and nieces; yet Park-place is
full as much in my mind, and I beg for its history.  I am, Madam,
etc.



Letter 139 To The Hon. H. S. Conway.
Strawberry Hill, July 8, 1778. (page 189)

I have had some conversation with a ministerial person, on the
subject of pacification with France; and he dropped a hint, that
as 'we should not have Much chance of a good peace, the
Opposition would make great clamour on it.  I said a few words on
the duty of ministers to do what they thought right, be the
consequence what it ,Would., But as honest men do not want such
lectures, and dishonest will not let them weigh, I waived that
theme, to dwell on what is more likely to be persuasive, and
which I am firmly persuaded is no less true than the former
maxim; and that was, that the ministers are still so strong, that
if they could get a peace that would save the nation, though not
a brilliant or glorious one, the nation in general would be
pleased with it, and the clamours of the Opposition be
insignificant.  I added, what I think true, too, that no time is
to be lost in treating not only for preventing a blow, but from
the consequences the first misfortune would have.  The nation is
not yet alienated from the court, but it is growing so; is grown
so enough, for any calamity to have violent effects.  Any
internal disturbance would advance the hostile designs of France.
An insurrection from distress would be a double invitation to
invasion; and, I am sure, much more to be dreaded, even
personally, by the ministers, than the ill-humours of Opposition
for even an inglorious peace.  To do the Opposition justice, it
is not composed of incendiaries.  Parliamentary speeches raise no
tumults: but tumults would be a dreadful thorough bass to
speeches.  The ministers do not know the strength they have left
(supposing they apply it in time), if they are afraid of making
any peace.  They were too sanguine in making war; I hope they
will not be too timid of making peace.

What do you think of an idea of mine, of offering France a
neutrality?  that is, to allow her to assist both us and the
Americans.  I know she would assist only them: but were it not
better to connive at her assisting them, without attacking us,
than her doing both?  A treaty with her would perhaps be followed
by one with America.  We are sacrificing all the essentials we
can recover, for a few words and risking the independence of this
country, for the nominal supremacy over America.  France seems to
leave us time for treating.  She made no scruple of begging peace
of us in '63, that she might lie by and recover her advantages.
Was not that a wise precedent? Does not she now show that it was?
Is not policy the honour of nations?  I mean, not morally, but
has Europe left itself any other honour? And since it has really
left itself no honour, and as little morality, does not the
morality of a nation consist in its preserving itself in as much
happiness as it can?  The invasion of Portugal by Spain in the
last war, and the partition of Poland, have abrogated the law Of
nations.  Kings have left no ties between one another.  Their
duty to their people is still allowed.  He is a good King that
preserves his people: and if temporizing answers that end, is it
not justifiable? You who are as moral as wise, answer my
questions.  Grotius is obsolete.  Dr. Joseph(310) and Dr.
Frederic(311) with four hundred thousand commentators, are
reading new lectures--and I should say, thank God, to One
another, if the four hundred thousand commentators were not in
worse danger than they.(312)  Louis XVI. is grown a casuist
compared to those partitioners.  Well, let US Simple individuals
keep our honesty, and bless our stars that we have not armies at
our command, lest we should divide kingdoms that are at our
biens`eance!  What a dreadful thing it is for such a wicked
little imp as man to have absolute power!--But I have travelled
into Germany, when I meant to talk to you only of England; and it
is too late to recall My text.  Good night!

(310) The Emperor of Germany.

(311) Frederic II.  King of Prussia.

(312) The Emperor of Germany and King of Prussia having some
dispute about Bavaria, brought immense armies into the field, but
found their forces so nearly balanced, that neither ventured to
attack the other; and the Prussian monarch falling back upon
Silesia, the affair was, through the intervention of the Empress
of Russia, settled by negotiation, which ended in the peace of
Teschen.-E.



Letter 140 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
July 12, 1778. (page 191)

Mr. Lort has delivered your papers to me, dear Sir, and I have
already gone through them.  I will try if I can make any thing of
them, but I fear I have not art enough, as I perceive there is
absolutely but one fact--the expulsion.  You have certainly very
clearly proved that Mr. Baker was neither supported by Mr. Prior
nor Bishop Burnet; but these are mere negatives.  So is the
question, whether he intended to compile an Athenae
Cantabrigienses or not; and on that you say but little, as you
have not seen his papers in the Museum.  I will examine the
printed Catalogue, and try if I can discover the truth thence,
when I go to town.  I will also borrow the new Biographia, as I
wish to know more of the expulsion.  As it is our only fact, one
would not be too dry on it.  Upon the whole, I think that it
would be preferable to draw up an ample character of Mr. Baker,
rather than a life.  The one was most beautiful, amiable,
conscientious; the other totally barren of more than one event:
and though you have taken excellent pains to discover all that
was possible, yet there is an obscurity hangs over the
circumstances that even did attend him; as his connexion with
Bishop Crewe and his living.  His own modesty comes out the
brighter, but then it composes a character, not a life.

As to Mr. Kippis and his censures, I am perfectly indifferent to
them.  He betrays a pert malignity in hinting an intention of
being severe on my father, for the pleasure of exerting a right I
allowed, and do allow, to be a just One, though it is not just to
do it for that reason; however, let him say his pleasure.  The
truth will not hurt my father; falsehood will recoil on the
author.  His asserting, that my censure of Mr. Addison's
character of Lord Somers is not to be justified, is a silly ipse
dixit, as he does not, in truth cannot, show why it is not to be
justified.  The passage I alluded to is the argument of an old
woman; and Mr. Addison's being a writer of true humour is not
justification of his reasoning like a superstitious gossip.  In
the other passage you have sent me, Mr. Kippis is perfectly in
the right, and corrects me very justly.  Had I seen Archbishop
Abbot's(313) Preface, with the outrageous flattery on, And lies
of James I., I should certainly never have said, "Honest Abbot
could not flatter!"  I should have said, and do say, I never saw
grosser perversion of truth.  One can almost excuse the faults of
James when his bishops were such base sycophants.  What can a
king think of human nature, when it produces such wretches? I am
too impartial to prefer Puritans to clergymen, or vice versa,
when Whitgift and Abbot only ran a race of servility and
adulation: the result is, that priests of all religions are the
same.  James and his Levites were worthy of each other; the
golden calf and the idolaters were well coupled, and it is Pity
they ever came out of the wilderness.  I am very glad Mr. Tyson
has escaped death and disappointment: pray wish him joy 'of both
from me.  Has not this Indian summer dispersed your complaints?
We are told we are to be invaded.  Our Abbots and Whitgifts now
see with what successes and consequences their preaching up a
crusade against America has been crowned!  Archbishop
Markham(314) may have an opportunity of exercising his martial
prowess.  I doubt he would resemble Bishop Crewe more than good
Mr. Baker.  Let us respect those only who are Israelites indeed.
I surrender Dr. Abbot to you.  Church and presbytery are terms
for monopolies, Exalted notions of church matters are
contradictions in terms to the lowliness and humility of the
gospel.  There is nothing sublime but the Divinity.  Nothing is
sacred but as His work.  A tree or a brute stone is more
respectable as such, than a mortal called an Archbishop, or an
edifice called a Church, which are the puny and perishable
productions of men.  Calvin and Wesley had just the same views as
the Pope; power and wealth their objects.  I abhor both, and
admire Mr. Baker.

P. S. I like Popery as well as you, and have shown I do.  I like
it as I like chivalry and romance.  They all furnish one with
ideas and visions, which presbyterianism does not.  A Gothic
church or a convent fills one with romantic dreams-but for the
mysterious, the Church in the abstract, it is a jargon that means
nothing, or a great deal too much, and I reject it and its
apostles, from Athanasius to Bishop Keene.(315)

(313) Dr. George Abbot, Archbishop of Canterbury, born at
Guildford, in Surrey, 1562.  In 1604, when the translation of the
Scriptures now in use was commenced by direction of King James,
Dr. Abbot was the second of eight divines of Oxford to whom was
committed the care of translating the New Testament, with the
exception of the Epistles, He died at the palace at Croydon, in
1633.-E.

(314) Dr. William Markham, translated to the see of York from
Chester in 1776.  He died in 1807.-E.

(315) Dr. Edmund Keene, Bishop of Ely.-E.



Letter 141 To The Hon. H. S. Conway.
Saturday, July 18, 1778. (page 192)

Yesterday evening the following notices were fixed up in Lloyd's
coffee-house:-That a merchant in the city had received an express
from France, that the Brest fleet, consisting, of twenty-eight
ships of the line, were sailed, with orders to burn, sink, and
destroy.  That Admiral Keppel was at Plymouth, and had sent to
demand three more ships of the line to enable him to meet the
French.  On these notices stocks sunk three-and-a-half per cent.
An account I have received this morning from a good hand says,
that on Thursday the Admiralty received a letter from Admiral
Keppel, who was off the Land's End, saying that the Worcester was
in sight; that the Peggy had joined him, and had seen the
Thunderer making sail for the fleet; that he was waiting for the
Centaur, Terrible, and Vigilant; and that having received advice
from Lord Shuldham that the Shrewsbury was to sail from Plymouth
on Thursday, he should likewise wait for her.  His fleet will
then consist of thirty ships of the line; and he hoped to have an
opportunity of trying his strength with the French fleet on our
own coast: if not, he would seek them on theirs.  The French
fleet sailed on the 7th, consisting of thirty-one ships of the
line, two fifty-gun ships, and eight frigates.  This state is
probably more authentic than those at Lloyd's.

Thus you see how big the moment is! and, unless far more
favourable to us in its burst than good sense allows one to
promise, it must leave us greatly exposed.  Can we expect to beat
with considerable loss?--and then, where have we another fleet?
I need not state the danger from a reverse.  The Spanish
ambassador certainly arrived on Monday.

I shall go to town on Monday for a day or two; therefore, if you
write to-morrow, direct to Arlington-street.  I add no more: for
words are unworthy of the situation; and to blame now, would be
childish.  It is hard to be gamed for against one's consent; but
when one's country is at stake, one must throw oneself out of the
question.  When one, is old and nobody, one must be whirled with
the current, and shake one's wings like a fly, if one lights on a
pebble.  The prospect is so dark, that one shall rejoice at
whatever does not happen that may.  Thus I have composed a sort
of philosophy for myself, that reserves every possible chance.
You want none of these Artificial aids to your resolution.
Invincible courage and immaculate integrity are not dependent on
the folly of ministers or on the events of war.  Adieu!



Letter 142 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Strawberry Hill, July 24, 1778. (page 193)

Upon reviewing your papers, dear Sir, I think I can make more of
them than I at first conceived.  I have even commenced the life,
and do not dislike my ideas for it, if the execution does but
answer, At present, I am interrupted by another task, which you,
too, have wished me to undertake.  In a word, somebody has
published Chatterton's works, and charged me heavily for having
discountenanced him.  He even calls for the indignation of the
public against me.  It is somewhat singular, that I am to be
offered up as a victim at the altar of a notorious impostor! but
as Many saints have been impostors, so many innocent persons have
been sacrificed to them.  However, I shall not be patient under
this attack, but shall publish an answer-the narrative I
mentioned to you.  I would, as you know, have avoided entering
into this affair if I could; but as I do not despise public
esteem, it is necessary to show how groundless the accusation is.
Do not speak of my intention, as perhaps I shall not execute it
immediately.

I am not in the least acquainted with the Mr. Bridges you
mention, nor know that I ever saw him.  The tomb for Mr. Gray is
actually erected, and at the generous expense of Mr. Mason, and
with an epitaph of four lines,(316) as you heard, and written by
him--but the scaffolds are not yet removed.  I was in town
yesterday, and intended to visit it, but there is digging a vault
for the family of Northumberland, which obstructs the removal of
the boards.

I rejoice in your amendment, and reckon it among my obligations
to the fine weather, and hope it will be the most lasting of
them.  Yours ever.

(316) "No more the Grecian Muse unrivall'd reigns;
To Britain let the nations homage pay:
She felt a Homer's fire in Milton's strains,
A Pindar's rapture in the lyre of Gray."-E.



Letter 143 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Strawberry Hill, August 15, 1778. (page 194)

Your observation of Rowley not being mentioned by William of
Wyrcestre, is very strong, indeed, dear Sir, and I shall
certainly take notice of it.  It has suggested to me that he is
not named by Bale or Pitts(317)--is he?  Will you trouble
yourself to look?  I conclude he is not, or we should have heard
of it.  Rowley is the reverse of King Arthur, and all those
heroes that have been expected a second time; he is to come again
for the first time-I mean, as a great poet.  My defence amounts
to thirty pages of the size of this paper: yet I believe I shall
not publish it.  I abhor a controversy; and what is it to me
whether people believe in an impostor or not?  Nay, shall I
convince every body of my innocence, though there is not the
shadow of reason for thinking I was to blame? If I met a beggar
in the street, and refused him sixpence, thinking him strong
enough to work, and two years afterwards he should die of
drinking, might not I be told I had deprived the world of a
capital rope-dancer? In short, to show one's self sensible to
such accusations, would only invite more; and since they accuse
me of contempt, I will have it for my accusers.

My brass plate for Bishop Walpole was copied exactly from the
print in Dart's Westminster, of the tomb of Robert Dalby, Bishop
of Durham, with the sole alteration Of the name.  I shall return,
as soon as I have time, to Mr. Baker's Life; but I shall want to
Consult you, or, at least, the account of him in the new
Biographia, as your notes want some dates.  I am not satisfied
yet with what I have sketched; but I shall correct it.  My small
talent was grown very dull.  This attack about Chatterton has a
little revived it; but it warns me to have done , for, if*one
comes to want provocatives,-the produce will soon be feeble.
Adieu! Yours most sincerely.

(317) John Bale, Bishop of Ossory.  The work to which Walpole
alludes is his "Catalog's Scriptorum illustrium Majoris
Brytannie." Basle, 1557-E.--John Pitts wrote, in opposition to
Bale, "De illustribus Angliae Scriptoribus." Paris, 1619.-E.



Letter 144 To The Hon. H. S. Conway.
Strawberry Hill, August 21, 1778. (page 195)

I think it so very uncertain whether this letter will find you,
that I write merely to tell you I received yours to-day.  I
recollect nothing particularly worth seeing in Sussex that you
have not seen (for I think you have seen Coudray and Stansted,
and I know you have Petworth), but Hurst Monceaux, near Battle;
and I don't know whether it is not pulled down.  The site of
Arundel Castle is fine, and there are some good tombs of the
Fitzalans at the church, but little remains of the castle; in the
room of which is a modern brick house; and in the late Duke's
time the ghost of a giant walked there, his grace said--but I
suppose the present Duke has laid it in the Red Sea of claret.

Besides Knowle and Penshurst, I should think there were several
seats of old families in Kent worth seeing; but I do not know
them.  I poked out Summer-hill(318) for the sake of the
Babylonienne in Grammont; but it is now a mere farmhouse.  Don't
let them Persuade you to visit Leeds Castle, which is not worth
seeing.

You have been near losing me and half a dozen fair cousins today.
The Goldsmiths, Company dined in Mr. Shirley's field, next to
Pope's.  I went to Ham with my three Waldegrave nieces and Miss
Keppel, and saw them land, and dine in tents erected for them,
from the opposite shore.  You may imagine how beautiful the sight
was in such a spot and in such a day!  I stayed and dined at Ham,
and after dinner Lady Dysart, with Lady Bridget Tollemache took
our four nieces on the water to see the return of the barges but
were to set me down at Lady Browne's.  We were, with a footman
and the two watermen, ten in a little boat.  As we were in the
middle of the river, a larger boat full of people drove directly
upon us on purpose.  I believe they were drunk.  We called to
them, to no purpose; they beat directly against the middle of our
little skiff--but, thank you, did not do us the least harm--no
thanks to them.  Lady Malpas was in Lord Strafford's garden, and
gave us for gone.  In short, Neptune never would have had so
beautiful a prize as the four girls.

I hear an express has been sent to * * * * to offer him the
mastership of the horse.  I had a mind to make you guess, but you
never can--to Lord Exeter!  Pray let me know the moment you
return to Park-place.

(318) Formerly a country-seat of Queen Elizabeth, and the
residence of Charles the Second when the court was at Tunbridge.-
E.



Letter 145 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Strawberry Hill, August 22, 1778. (page 196)

I beg YOU Will feel no uneasiness, dear Sir, at having shown my
name to Dr. Glynn.  I Can never suspect you, who are giving me
fresh proofs of your friendship, and solicitude for my
reputation, of doing any thing unkind.  It is true I do not think
I shall publish any thing about Chatterton.  IS not it an affront
to innocence, not to be perfectly satisfied in her?  My pamphlet,
for such it would be, is four times as large as the narrative in
your hands, and I think Would not discredit me--but, in truth, I
am grown much fonder of truth than fame; and scribblers or their
patrons shall not provoke me to sacrifice the one to the other.
Lord Hardwicke, I know, has long been my enemy,--latterly, to get
a sight of the Conway Papers, he has paid great court to me,
which, to show how little I regarded his enmity, I let him see,
at least the most curious.  But as I set as little value on his
friendship, I did not grant another of his requests.  Indeed, I
have made more than one foe by not indulging the vanity of those
who have made application to me; and I am obliged to them, when
they augment my contempt by quarrelling with me for that refusal.
It was the case of Mr. Masters, and is now of Lord Hardwicke.  He
solicited me to reprint his Boeotian volume of Sir Dudley
Carleton's Papers, for which he had two motives.  The first he
inherited from his father, the desire of saving money; for though
his fortune is so much larger than mine, he knew I would not let
out my press for hire, but should treat him with the expense, as
I have done for those I have obliged.  The second was, that the
rarity of my editions makes them valuable, and though I cannot
make men read dull books, I can make them purchase them.  His
lordship, therefore, has bad grace in affecting to overlook one,
whom he had in vain courted, yet he again is grown my enemy,
because I would not be my own.  For my Writings, they do not
depend on him or the venal authors he patronizes (I doubt very
frugally), but On their own merits or demerits.  It is from men
of sense they must expect their sentence, not from boobies and
hireling authors, whom I have always shunned, with the whole fry
of minor wits, critics, and monthly censors.  I have not seen the
Review you mention, nor ever do, but when something particular is
pointed out to me.  Literary squabbles I know preserve one's
name, when one's work will not; but I despise the fame that
depends on scolding till one is remembered, and remembered by
whom?  The scavengers of literature!  Reviewers are like sextons,
who in a charnel-house can tell you to what John Thompson or to
what Tom-Matthews such a skull or such belonged--but who wishes
to know?  The fame that is only to be found in such vaults, is
like the fires that burn unknown in tombs, and go out as fast as
they are discovered.  Lord Hardwicke is welcome to live among the
dead if he likes',,it, and can contrive to live nowhere else.

Chatterton did abuse me under the title of Baron of Otranto,(319)
but unluckily the picture is more like Dr. Milles and
Chatterton's own devotees' than to me, who am but a recreant
antiquary, and, as the poor lad found by experience, did not
swallow every fragment that 'Was offered to me as an antique;
though that is a feature he has bestowed Upon me.

I have seen, too, the criticism you mention on the Castle of
Otranto, in the preface to the Old English Baron.(320)  It is not
at all oblique, but, though mixed with high compliments, directly
attacks the visionary part, which, says the author or authoress,
makes one laugh.  I do assure you, I have not had the smallest
inclination to return that attack.  It would even be ungrateful,
for the work is a professed imitation of mine, only stripped of
the marvellous; and so entirely stripped, except in one awkward
attempt at a ghost or two, that it is the most insipid dull
nothing you ever saw.  It certainly does not
make me laugh; but what makes one doze, seldom makes one merry.

I am very sorry to have talked for near three pages on what
relates to myself, who should be of no consequence, if people did
not make me so, whether I will or not.- My not replying to them,
I hope, is a proof I do not seek to make myself the topic of
conversation.  How very foolish are the squabbles of authors!
They buzz and are troublesome, to-day, and then repose for ever
on some shelf in a college' library, close by their antagonists,
like Henry VI.  and Edward IV.  at Windsor.

I shall be in town in a few days, and will send You the heads of
painters, which I left there; and along with them for yourself a
translation of a French play,(321) that I have just printed
there.  It is not for your reading, but as one of the Strawberry
editions, and one of the rarest; for I have printed but
seventy-five copies.  It was to oblige Lady Craven, - the
translatress; and will be an aggravation of my offence to Sir
Dudley's State Papers.

I hope this Elysian summer, for it has been above Indian, has
dispersed all your complaints.  Yet it does not agree with fruit;
the peaches and nectarines are shrivelled to the size of damsons,
and half of them drop.  Yet you remember what portly bellies the
peaches had at Paris, where it is generally as hot.  I suppose
our fruit-trees are so accustomed to rain, that they don't know
how to behave without it.  Adieu!

P. S. I can divert you with a new adventure that has happened to
me in the literary way.  About a month ago, I received a letter
from Mr. Jonathan Scott, at Shrewsbury, to tell me he was
possessed of MS. of Lord Herbert's Account of the Court of
France,(322) which he designed to publish by subscription, and
which he desired me to subscribe to, and to assist in the
publication.  I replied, that having been obliged to the late
Lord Powis and his widow, I could not meddle with any such thing,
without knowing that it had the consent of the present Earl and
his mother.

Another letter, commending my reserve, told me Mr. Scott had
applied for it formerly, and would again now.  This showed me
they did not consent.  I have just received a third letter,
owning the approbation has not yet arrived; but to keep me
employed in the mean time, the modest Mr. Scott, whom I never
saw, nor know more of than I did of Chatterton, proposes to me to
get his fourth son a place in the civil department in India: the
father not choosing it should be in the military, his three
eldest sons being engaged in that branch already.  If this fourth
son breaks his neck, I suppose it will be laid to my charge!
Yours ever.

(319) Chatterton exhibited a ridiculous portrait of Walpole: in
the "Memoirs of a Sad Dog,"
under the character of "the redoubted Baron Otranto, who has
spent his whole life in conjectures."-E.

(320) The Old English Baron, a romance of considerable repute
which has been frequently reprinted, was the production of Clara
Reeve.  This Ingenious lady had published, in 1772, a translation
of Barclay's Latin romance of Argenis, under the title of "The
Phoenix, or the History of Polyarchus and Argenis."  She was born
at Ipswich, in 1738, died there in 1808.-E.

(321) "the Sleep Walker;" Strawberry Hill, 1778.  It was
translated from the French of M. Pont de Veyle, by Lady Craven,
afterwards Margravine of Anspach.-E.

(322) By Lord Herbert's Account of the Court of France, Mr. Scott
most probably referred to his "Letters written during his
residence at the French Court" and which were first published
from the originals, in the edition of his Life which appeared in
1826.-E.



Letter 146 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
September 1, 1778. (page 198)

I have now seen the Critical Review, with Lord Hardwicke's note,
in which I perceive the sensibility of your friendship for me,
dear Sir, but no rudeness on his part.  Contemptuous it was to
reprint Jane Shore's letter without any notice of my having given
it before: the apology, too, is not made to me-but I am not
affected by such incivilities, that imply more ill-will than
boldness.  As I expected more from your representation, I believe
I expressed myself with more warmth than the occasion deserved;
and, as I love to be just, I will, now I am perfectly cool, be so
to Lord Hardwicke.  His dislike of me was meritorious in him, as
I conclude it was founded on my animosity to his father, as mine
had been, from attachment to my own who was basely betrayed by
the late Earl.  The present has given me formerly many peevish
marks of enmity; and I suspect, I don't know if justly, that he
was the mover of the cabal in the Antiquarian Society against me-
-but all their Misunderstandings were of a size that made me
smile rather than provoked me.  The Earl, as I told you, has
since been rather wearisome in applications to me; which I
received rather civilly, but encouraged no farther.  When he
wanted me to be his printer, I own I was not good Christian
enough, not to be pleased with refusing, and yet in as well-bred
excuses as I could form, pleading what was true at the time, as
you know, that I had laid down my press-but so much for this idle
story.  I shall think no more of it, but adhere to my specific
system.  The antiquarians will be as ridiculous as they used to
be; and, since it is impossible to infuse taste into them, they
will be as dry and dull as their predecessors.  One may revive
what perished, but it will perish again, if more life is not
breathed into it than it enjoyed originally.  Facts, dates, and
names will never please the multitude, unless there is some style
and manner to recommend them, and unless some novelty is struck
out from their appearance.  The best merit of the society lies in
their prints; for their volumes, no mortal will ever touch them
but an antiquary.  Their Saxon and Danish discoveries are not
worth more than monuments of the Hottentots; and for Roman
remains in Britain, they are upon a foot with what ideas we
should get of Inigo Jones, if somebody was to publish views of
huts and houses, that our officers run up at Senegal and Goree.
Bishop Lyttelton used to torment me with barrows and Roman camps,
and I would as soon have attended to the turf graves in our
churchyards.  I have no curiosity to know how awkward and clumsy
men have been in the dawn of arts, or in their decay.

I exempt you entirely from my general censure on antiquaries,
both for your singular modesty in publishing nothing yourself,
and for collecting stone and bricks for others to build with.  I
wish your materials may ever fall into good hands--perhaps they
will! our empire is falling to pieces! we are relapsing to a
little island.  n that state men are apt to inquire how great
their ancestors have been; and, when a kingdom is past doing any
thing, the few that are studious look into the memorials of past
time; nations, like private persons, seek lustre from their
progenitors, when they have none in themselves, and the farther
they are from the dignity of their source.  When half its
colleges are tumbled down, the ancient university of Cambridge
will revive from your Collections,(323) and you will be a living
witness that saw its splendour.

Since I began this letter, I have had another curious adventure.
I was in the Holbein chamber, when a chariot stopped at my door.
A letter was brought up--and who should be below but--Dr. Kippis.
The letter was to announce himself and his business, flattered me
on My Writings, desired my assistance, and particularly my
direction and aid for his writing the life of my father.  I
desired he would walk up, and received him very civilly, taking
not the smallest notice of what you had told me of his flirts at
me in the new Biographia.  I told him if I had been applied to, I
could have pointed out many errors in the old edition, but as
they were chiefly in the printing, I supposed they would be
corrected.  With regard to my father's life, I said, it might be
partiality, but I had such confidence in my father's virtues,
that I was satisfied the more his life was examined, the clearer
they would appear.  That I also thought that the life of any man
written under the direction of his family, did nobody honour; and
that, as I was persuaded my father's would stand the test, I
wished that none of his relations should interfere in it.  That I
did not doubt but the Doctor would speak impartially, and that
was all I desired.  He replied, that he did suppose I thought in
that manner, and that all he asked was to be assisted in facts
and dates.  I said, if he would please to write the life first,
and then communicate it to me, I would point out any errors in
facts that I should perceive.  He seemed mightily well
satisfied-and so we parted-but is it not odd.  that people are
continually attacking me, and then come to me for' assistance?--
but when men write for profit, they are not very delicate.

I have resumed Mr. Baker's life, and pretty well arranged my
plan; but I shall have little time to make any progress till
October, as I am going soon to make some visits.  Yours ever.

(323) His valuable Collections, in about a hundred volumes, in
folio fairly written in his own band, Mr. Cole, on his death in
1782, left to the British Museum, to be locked up for twenty
years.  His Diary, as will be seen by a specimen or two, is truly
ludicrous:--Jan. 25, 1766. Foggy.  My beautiful Parrot died at
ten at night, without knowing the Cause of his illness, he being
very well last night.--Feb. 1. Fine day, and cold.  Will. Wood
carried three or four loads of dung Baptized William, the son of
William Grace, blacksmith, whom I married about six months
before.  March 3.  I baptized Sarah, the bastard daughter of the
Widow Smallwood, of Eton, aged near fifty, whose husband died
about a year ago.--March 6, Very fine weather.  My man was
blooded.  I sent a loin Of pork and a spare-rib to Mr.
Cartwright, in London.--27.  I sent my two French wigs to my
London barber to alter, they being made so miserably I could not
wear them.--June 17.  I went to our new Archdeacon's visitation
at Newport-Pagnel.  took young H. Travel with me on my dun horse,
in order that he might hear the organ, he being a great
psalm-singer.  The most numerous appearance of clergy that I
remember: forty-four dined with the Archdeacon; and what is
extraordinary, not one smoked tobacco.  My new coach-horse
ungain.--Aug. 16. Cool day.  Tom reaped for Joe Holdom.  I
cudgelled Jem for staying so long on an errand," etc.-E.



Letter 147 To The Rev.    Mr. Cole.
Strawberry Hill, Sept. 18, 1778. (page 200)

I have run through the new articles in the Biographia, and think
them performed but by a heavy hand.  Some persons have not
trusted the characters of their ancestors, as I did my father's,
to their own merits.  On the contrary, I have met with one whose
corruption is attempted to be palliated by imputing its
punishment to the revenge of my father-which, by the way, is
confessing the guilt of the convict.  This was the late Lord
Barrington,(324) who, i believe, was a very dirty fellow; for,
besides being expelled the House of Commons on the affair of the
Harburgh lottery, he was reckoned to have twice sold the
Dissenters to the court; but in short, what credit can a
Biographia Britannica, which ought to be a standard work,
deserve, when the editor is a mercenary writer, who runs about to
relations for direction, and adopts any tale they deliver to him?
This very instance is proof that it is not a jot more creditable
than a peerage.  The
authority is said to be a nephew of Judge Foster, (consequently,
I suppose, a friend of Judge Barrington), and he pretends to have
found a scrap of paper, nobody knows on what occasion written,
that seems to be connected with nothing, and is called a
palliative, if not an excuse of Lord Barrington's crime.  A man
is expelled from Parliament for a scandalous job, and it is
called a sufficient excuse to say the minister was his enemy; and
this nearly forty years after the death of both!  and without any
impeachment of the justice of the sentence: instead of which we
are told that Lord Barrington was suspected of having offended
Sir Robert Walpole, who took that opportunity of being revenged.
Supposing he did--which at most you see is a suspicion--grounded
on a suspicion--it would at least Imply, that he had found a good
opportunity.  A most admirable acquittal! Sir Robert Walpole was
expelled for having endorsed a note that was not for his own
benefit, nor ever supposed to be, and it Was the act of a whole
outrageous party; yet, abandoned as parliaments sometimes are, a
minister would not find them very complaisant In gratifying his
private revenge against a member without some crime.  Not a
syllable is said of any defence the culprit made:; and,' had my
father been guilty of such violence and injustice, it is totally
incredible that he, whose minutest acts and his most innocent
were so rigorously scrutinized, tortured, and blackened, should
never have heard that act of power complained of.  The present
Lord Barrington who opposed him, saw his fall, and the secret
committee appointed' to canvass his life, when a retrospect of
twenty years was desired and only ten allowed, would certainly
have pleaded for the longer term, had he had any thing to say, in
behalf of his father's sentence.  Would so warm a patriot then,
though so obedient a courtier now, have suppressed the charge to
this hour? This Lord Barrington, when I was going to publish the
second edition of my Noble Authors, begged it as a favour of me
suppress all mention of his father--a strong presumption that he
was ashamed of him.  I am well repaid! but I am certainly 11
record that good man.  I shall-and s ow at liberty to hall take
notice of the satisfactory manner in which his sons have
whitewashed their patriarch.  I recollect a saying of the present
peer that will divert you when contrasted with forty years of
servility which even in this age makes him a proverb.  It was in
his days of virtue.  He said, "If I should ever be so unhappy as
to have a place that would make it necessary for me to have a
fine coat on a birthday, I would pin a bank-bill on my sleeve."
He had a place in less than two years, I think--and has had
almost every place that every administration could bestow.(325)
Such were the patriots that opposed that excellent man, my
father; allowed by all parties as incapable of revenge as ever
minister was--but whose experience of mankind drew from him that
memorable saying, "that very few men ought to be prime ministers,
for it is not fit many should know how bad men are;"--one can see
a little of it without being a prime minister.  "one shuns
mankind and flies to books, one meets with their meanness and
falsehood there, too! one has reason to say, there is but one
good, that is God.  Adieu! Yours ever.

(324) John Shute, first Viscount Barrington in the peerage of
Ireland, expelled the House of Commons in February 1723, for
having promoted, abetted, and carried on that fraudulent
undertaking, the Harburgh lottery.  This lottery took its name
from the place where it Was to be drawn, the town and port of
Harburgh, on the
river Elbe, where the projector was to settle a trade for the
woollen manufacture between England and Germany.  Lord Barrington
was distinguished for theological learning, and published
"Miscellanea Critica" and an "Essay on the several Dispensations
of God to Mankind." He died in 1734, leaving five sons, who had
the rare fortune of each rising to high stations in the church,
the state, the law, the army, and the navy.-E.


(325) See vol. i. p. 258, letter 69.  Among the Mitchell MSS. is
a letter from Lord Barrington, in which he says, "No man knows
what is good for him: my invariable rule, therefore, is to ask
nothing, to refuse nothing; to let Others place me, and to do my
best wherever I am placed.  The same strange fortune which made
me secretary of war five years ago has made me chancellor of the
exchequer; it may perhaps at last make me pope.  I think i am
equally fit to be at the head of the church as the exchequer."-E.



Letter 148 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Oct, 14, 1778. (page 202)

I think you take in no newspapers, nor do I believe condescend to
read any more modern than the Paris `a la Main at the time of the
Ligue; consequently you have not seen a new scandal on my father,
which you will not wonder offends me.  You cannot be interested
in his defence; but, as it comprehends some very curious
anecdotes, you will not grudge my indulging myself to a friend in
vindicating a name so dear to me.  In the accounts of Lady
Chesterfield's(326) death and fortune, it is said that the late
King, at the instigation of Sir Robert Walpole, burnt his
father's will which contained a large legacy to that, his
supposed, daughter, and I believe his real one; for she was very
like him, as her brother General Schulembourg, is, in black, to
the late King.  The fact of suppressing the will is indubitably
true; the instigator most false, as I can demonstrate thus:--
When the news arrived of the death of George the First, my father
carried the account from Lord Townshend to the then Prince of
Wales.  One of the first acts of royalty is for the new monarch
to make a speech to the privy council.  Sir Robert asked the King
who he would please to have draw the Speech, which was, in fact,
asking who was to be prime minister; to which his Majesty
replied, Sir Spencer Compton.  It is a wonderful anecdote, and
but little known, that the new premier, a very dull man, could
not draw the Speech, and the person to whom he applied was the
deposed premier.  The Queen, who favoured my father, observed how
unfit a man was for successor, who was reduced to beg assistance
of his predecessor.  The council met as soon as possible, the
next morning at latest.  There Archbishop Wake, with whom one
copy of the will had been deposited, (as another was, I think,
with the Duke of Wolfenbuttle, who had a pension for sacrificing
it, which, I know, the late Duke of Newcastle transacted,)
advanced and delivered the will to the King, who put it into his
pocket, and went out of council without opening it, the
Archbishop- not having courage or presence of mind to desire it
to b' read,.  as he ought to have done.

These circumstances, which I solemnly assure you are strictly
true, prove that my father neither advised, nor was consulted;
nor is it credible that the King in one night's time should have
passed from the intention of disgracing him, to make him his
bosom Confidant on so delicate an affair.

I was once talking to the late Lady Suffolk, the former mistress,
on that extraordinary event.  She said, "I cannot justify the
deed to the legatees; but towards his father, the late King was
justifiable, for George the First had burnt two wills made in
favour of George the Second."  I suppose these were the
testaments of the Duke and Duchess of Zell, parents of George the
First's wife, whose treatment of her they always resented.

I said, I know the transactions of the Duke of Newcastle.  The
late Lord Waldegrave showed me a letter from that Duke to The
first Earl of Waldegrave, then ambassador at Paris, with
directions about that transaction, or, at least, about payment of
the pension, I forget which.(327)  I have somewhere, but cannot
turn to it now, a memorandum of that affair, and who the Prince
was, whom I may mistake in calling Duke of Wolfenbuttle.  There
was a third COPY of the will, I likewise forget with whom
deposited.  The newspaper says, which is true, that Lord
Chesterfield filed a bill in chancery against the late King to
oblige him to produce the will, and was silenced, I think, by
payment of twenty thousand Pounds.  There was another legacy to
his own daughter, the Queen of Prussia, which has at times been,
and, I believe, is still claimed by the King of Prussia.

Do not mention any part of this story, but it is worth
preserving, I am sure you are satisfied with my scrupulous
veracity.  It may Perhaps be authenticated hereafter by
collateral evidence that may come out.  If ever true history does
come to light my father's character will have just honour paid to
it.  Lord Chesterfield, one of his sharpest enemies, has not,
with all his
prejudices, left a very unfavourable account of him, and it would
alone be raised by a comparison of their two characters.  Think
of one who calls Sir Robert the corrupter of youth, leaving a
system of education to poison them from their nursery!
Chesterfield, Pulteney, and Bolingbroke were the saints that
reviled my father! I beg your pardon, but you will allow Me to
open my heart to you when it is full.  Yours ever.

(326) Malosine de Schulenbourg, a natural daughter of George I.
by Miss Schulenbourg, afterwards created Duchess of Kendal.  She
was created, in 1722, Countess of Walsingham and Baroness of
Aldborough, and was the widow of Philip Dormer Stanhope, the
celebrated Earl of Chesterfield, who died in 1773-E.

(327) See Walpole's Memoires of George the second, vol. ii., p.
458-E.



Letter 149 To The Hon. H. S. Conway.
Oct. 23, 1778. (page 204)

* * * * * Having thus told you all I know, I shall add a few
words, to say I conclude you have known as much, by my not having
heard from you.  Should the post-office or secretary's o(fice set
their wits at work to bring to light all the intelligence
contained under the above hiatus, I am confident they will
discover nothing, though it gives an exact description of all
they have been about themselves.

My personal history is very short.  I have had an assembly and
the rheumatism-and am buying a house-and it rains-and I shall
plant the roses against my treillage to-morrow.  Thus you know
-what I have done, suffered, am doing, and shall do.  Let me know
as much of you, in quantity, not in quality.  Introductions to,
and conclusions of, letters are as much out of fashion, as to at,
etc.  on letters.  This sublime age reduces every thing to its
quintessence: all periphrases and expletives are so much in
disuse, that I suppose soon the only way of making love will be
to say "Lie down."  Luckily, the lawyers will not part with any
synonymous words, and will, consequently preserve the
redundancies of our language--Dixi.



Letter 150 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
October 26, 1778. (page 204)

I have finished the life of Mr. Baker, will have it transcribed,
and send it to you.  I have omitted several little particulars
that are in your notes, for two reasons; one, because so much is
said in the Biographia; and the other, because I have rather
drawn a character of him, than meant a circumstantial life. In
the justice I have done to him, I trust I shall have pleased you.
I have much greater doubt of that effect in what I have said of
his principles and party.  It is odd, perhaps, to have made use
of the life of a high churchman for expatiating on my own very
opposite principles; but it gave me SO fair an opportunity of
discussing those points, that I very naturally embraced it.  I
have done due honour to his immaculate conscience, but have not
spared the cause in which he fell,-or rather rose,-for the ruin
of his fortune was the triumph of his virtue.

As you know I do not love the press, you may be sure I have no
thoughts of printing this life at present; nay, I beg you will
not only not communicate it, but take care it never should be
printed without my consent.  I have written what presented
itself; I should perhaps choose to soften several passages; and I
trust to you for Your own satisfaction, not as a finished thing,
or as I am determined it should remain.

Another favour I beg of you is to criticise it as largely and
severely As you please: you have A right so to do, as it is built
with your own materials, nay, you have a right to scold if I
have, nay, since I have, employed them so differently from your
intention.  All my excuse is, that you communicated them to one
who did not deceive you, and you was pretty sure would make
nearly the use of them that he has made.  Was not you? did you
not suspect a little that I could not write even a Life of Mr.
Baker without talking Whiggism!--Well, if I have ill-treated the
cause, I am sure I have exalted the martyr.  I have thrown new
light on his virtue from his notes on the Gazettes, and you will
admire him more, though you may love me less, for my chymistry.
I should be truly sorry if I did lose a scruple of your
friendship.  You have ever been as candid to me, as Mr. Baker was
to his antagonists, and our friendship is another proof that men
of the most opposite principles can agree in every thing else,
and not quarrel about them.

As my manuscript contains above twenty pages of my writing on
larger paper than this, you cannot receive it speedily--however,
I have Performed my promise, and I hope you will not be totally
discontent, though I am not satisfied with myself.  I have
executed it by snatches and by long interruptions; and not having
been eager about it, I find I wanted that ardour to inspire me;
another proof of what I told you, that my small talent is waning,
and wants provocatives.  It shall be a warning to me.  Adieu!



Letter 151 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Arlington Street, Nov. 4, 1778. (page 205)

You will see by my secretary's hand, that I am not able to write
myself; indeed, I am in bed with the gout in six places, like
Daniel in the den; but, as the lions are slumbering round me, and
leave me a moment of respite, I employ it to give you one.
 You have misunderstood me, dear Sir: I have not said a word that
will lower Mr. Baker's character; on the contrary, I think he
will come out brighter from my ordeal.  In truth, as I have drawn
out his life from your papers, it is a kind of Political epic, in
which his conscience is the hero that always triumphs over his
interest
upon the most opposite occasions.  Shall you dislike your saint
in this light!  I had transcribed about half when I fell ill last
week.  If the gout does not seize my right hand, I shall Probably
have recovery full leisure to finish it during my recovery, but
shall certainly not be
 able to send it to you by Mr. Lort.

Your promise fully satisfies me.  My life can never extend to
twenty years.(328)  Anyone that saw me this moment would not take
me for a Methusalem.  I have not strength to dictate more now,
except to add, that if Mr. Nicholls has seen my narrative about
Chatterton, it can only be my letter to Mr. Barrett, of which you
have a copy; the larger one has not yet been out of my own house.
Yours most sincerely.

(328) Mr. Cole had informed Walpole that his collections were not
to be opened until twenty years after his death.  See ant`e, P.
199, letter 146, note 323.



Letter 152 To Lady Browne.(329)
Arlington Street, Nov, 5, 1778. (page 206)

Your ladyship is exceedingly kind and charitable, and the least I
can do in return is to do all I can--dictate a letter to you.  I
have not been out of bed longer than it was necessary to have it
made, once a day, since last Thursday.  The gout is in both my
feet, both my knees, and in my left hand and elbow.  Had I a mind
to brag, I could boast of a little rheumatism too, but I scorn to
set value on such a trifle; nay, I will own that I have felt but
little acute pain.  My chief propensity to exaggeration would be
on the miserable nights I have passed; and yet whatever I should
say would not be beyond what I thought I suffered.  I have been
constantly as broad awake as Mrs. Candour that is always gaping
for Scandal,(330) except when I have taken opiates, and then my
dreams have been as extravagant as Mrs. Candour adds to what she
hears.  In short, Madam, not to tire you with more details,
though you have ordered them, I am so weak that I am able to see
nobody at all, and when I shall be recovered enough to take
possession of this new lease, as it is called, the mansion, I
believe, will be so shattered that it won't be worth repairs.  Is
it not very foolish, then, to be literally buying a new house? Is
it not verifying Pope's line, when I choose a Pretty situation,

"But just to look about us and to die?"

I am sorry Lady Jane's lot is fallen in Westphalia, where so
great a hog is lord of the manor.  He is like the dragon of
Wantley,

"And houses and churches
To him are geese and turkeys;"

so I don't wonder that he has gobbled her two cows.

Lady Blandford is delightful in congratulating me upon having the
gout in town, and staying in the country herself.  Nay, she is
very insolent in presuming to be the only person invulnerable.
If I could wish her any, harm, it should be that she might feel
for one quarter of an hour a taste of the mortifications that I
suffered from eleven last night till four this morning, and I am
sure she would never dare to have a spark of courage again.  I
can only wish her in Grosvenor-square, where she would run no
risks.  Her reputation for obstinacy is so well established, that
she might take advice from her true friends for a twelvemonth,
before we should believe our own ears.  However, as every body
has some weak part, I know she will do for others more than for
herself; and, therefore, pray Madam, tell her, that I am sure it
is bad for Your ladyship to stay in the country at this time of
year, and that reason, I am sure will bring you both.  I really
must rest.

(329) Now first printed.  See vol. iii., letter to George
Montagu, Esq., Nov. 1, 1767, letter 332.


(330) Sheridan's popular comedy of the "School for Scandal" which
came out at Drury-lane theatre in May 1777, was at this time as
much the favourite of the town as ever.-E.



Letter 153 To Lady Browne.(331)
Arlington Street, Dec. 18, 1778. (page 207)

My not writing with my own hand, to thank Your ladyship for your
very obliging letter, is the worst symptom that remains with me,
Madam: all pain and swelling are gone; and I hope in a day or two
to get a glove even on my right hand, and to walk with help into
the room by the end of next week.  I did I confess, see a great
deal too much company too early; and was such an old child as to
prattle abundantly, till I was forced to shut myself up for a
week and see nobody; but I am quite recovered, and the emptiness
of the town will soon preserve me from any excesses.

I am exceedingly glad to hear your ladyship finds so much benefit
from the air: I own I thought you looked ill the last time I had
the honour of seeing you; and though I am sorry to hear you talk
with so much satisfaction of a country life, I am not selfish
enough to wish you to leave Tusmore(332) a day before your health
is quite re-established, nor to envy Mr. Fermor so agreeable an
addition to his society and charming seat.

Poor Lady Albemarle is indeed very miserable and full of
apprehensions; though the incredible zeal.  of the navy for
Admiral Keppel crowns him with glory, and the indignation of and
the indignation of mankind, and the execration of Sir Hugh, add
to the triumph.  Indeed, I still think Lady A.'s fears may be
well founded: some slur may be Procured on her son; and his own
bad nerves, and worse constitution, may not be able to stand
agitation and suspense.(333)

Lady Blandford has had a cold, but I hear is well again, and has
generally two tables.  She will be a loss indeed to all her
friends, and to hundreds more; but she cannot be immortal, nor
would be, if she could.

The writings are not yet signed, Madam, for my house, but I am in
no doubt of having it; yet I shall not think of going into it
till the spring, as I cannot enjoy this year's gout in it, and
will not venture catching a codicil, by going backwards and
forwards to it before it is aired.

I know no particular news, but that Lord Bute was thought in
great danger yesterday; I have heard nothing of him to-day.  I do
not know even a match, but of some that are going to be divorced;
the fate of one of the latter is to be turned into an exaltation,
and is treated by her family and friends in quite a new style, to
the discomfit of all prudery.  It puts me in mind of Lord
Lansdowne's lines in the room in the Tower where my father had
been confined,

"Some fall so hard, they bound and rise again."

Methinks, however, it is a little hard on Lord George Germaine,
that in four months after seeing a Duchess of Dorset, he may see
a Lord Middlesex too; for so old the egg is said to be, that is
already prepared.  If this trade goes on, half the peeresses will
have two eldest sons with both fathers alive at the same time.
Lady Holderness expresses nothing but grief and willingness to
receive her daughter(334) again on any terms, which probably will
happen; for the daughter has already opened her eyes, is sensible
of her utter ruin, and has written to Lord Carmarthen and Madam
Cordon, acknowledging her guilt, and begging to be remembered
only with pity, which is sufficient to make one pity her.

I would beg pardon for so long a letter, but your ladyship
desired THE intelligence, and I know a long letter from London is
not uncomfortable at Christmas, even.  in the most comfortable
house in the country.  Perhaps my own forced idleness has a
little contributed to lengthen it; still I hope it implies great
readiness to obey your ladyship's commands, in your most obedient
humble servant.

(331) Now first printed.

(332) Lady Browne's first husband was Henry Fermor Esq.,
grandfather of Mr. Fermor of Tusmore House.  She was Miss
Sheldon.-E.

(333) Some charges having been brought against Admiral Keppel for
his conduct at the battle of Ushant,
by Sir Hugh Palliser, his vice-admiral, he was tried for the
same, and not only unanimously acquitted, but the prosecution
declared malicious.  This verdict gave such general satisfaction,
that London was illuminated for two nights; upon one,
of which a mob, consisting in great part of sailors who had
served under Keppel, broke all the windows in the house of his
accuser.  The city of London voted the Admiral the freedom of the
corporation.  In 1782, he was Created Viscount Keppel, and
appointed first lord of the admiralty.  He died unmarried, in
October 1786.  The following is a part of Mr. Burke's beautiful
panegyric on him, at the conclusion of his letter to a noble
Lord:--"I ever looked on Lord Keppel as one of the greatest and
best men of his age, and I loved and cultivated him accordingly.
It was at his trial that he gave me this picture.  With what zeal
and anxious affection I attended him through that his agony of
glory; what part my son took in the early flush and enthusiasm of
his virtue, and the pious passion with which he attached himself
to all my connexions; with what prodigality we both squandered
ourselves in courting almost every sort of enmity for his sake, I
believe he felt, just as I should have felt such friendship on
such an occasion.  I partook, indeed, of this honour with several
of the first, and best, and ablest in the kingdom; but I was
behind with none of them - and I am sure that if, to the eternal
disgrace of this nation, and to the total annihilation of every
trace of honour and virtue in it, things had taken a different
turn from what they did, I should have attended him to the
quarterdeck with no less good-will and more pride, though with
far other feelings, than I partook of the general flow of
national joy that attended the justice that was done to his
virtue."-E.

(335) Amelia D'Arcy, Baroness Conyers, daughter of Robert, fourth
Earl of Holderness, Married to Lord Carmarthen; who had eloped
with Captain John Byron, father of the great poet.-E.



Letter 154 To The Earl Of Buchan.(336)
Arlington Street, Dec. 24, 1778. (page 209)

It was an additional mortification to my illness, my lord, that I
was nut able to thank your lordship with my own hand for the
honour of your letter, and for your goodness in remembering an
old man, who must with reason consider himself as forgotten, when
he never was of importance, and is now almost useless to himself.
Frequent severe fits of the gout have a good deal disabled me
from pursuing the trifling studies in which I could pretend to
know any thing; or at least has given me an indifference, that
makes me less ready in answering questions than I may have been
formerly; and as my papers are in the country, whither at present
I am not able to go, I fear I can give but unsatisfactory replies
to your lordship's queries.

The two very curious pictures of King James and his Queen (I
cannot recollect whether the third or fourth of the name, but I
know that she was a princess of Sweden or Denmark,(337) and that
her arms are on her portrait,) were at the palace at Kensington,
and I imagine are there still.  I had obtained leave from the
Lord Chamberlain to have drawings made of them, and Mr. Wale
actually
began them for me, but made such slow progress, and I was so
called off from the thought of them by indispositions and other
avocations, that they were never finished; and Mr.. Wale may,
perhaps, still have the beginnings he made.

At the Duke of Devonshire's at Hardwicke, there is a valuable
though poorly painted picture of James V. and Mary of Guise, his
second queen: it is remarkable from the great resemblance of Mary
Queen of Scots to her father; I mean in Lord Morton's picture of
her, and in the image of her on her tomb at Westminster, which
agree together, and which I take to be the genuine likeness.  I
have doubts on Lord Burlington's picture, and on Dr. Mead's.  The
nose in both is thicker, and also fuller at bottom than on the
tomb; though it is a little supported by her coins.

There is a much finer portrait,--indeed, an excellent head,--of
the Lady Margaret Douglas at Mr. Carteret's at Hawnes in
Bedfordshire, the late Lord Granville's.  It is a shrewd
countenance, and at the same time with great goodness of
character.  Lord Scarborough has a good picture, in the style of
Holbein at least, of Queen Margaret Tudor, daughter of Henry
VII., and of her second or third husband (for, if I don't
mistake, she had three); but indeed, my lord, these things are so
much out of my memory at present, that I speak with great
diffidence.  I cannot even recollect any thing else to your
lordship's purpose; but I flatter myself, that these imperfect
notices will at least be a testimony of my readiness to obey your
lordship's commands, as that I am, with great respect, my lord,
your lordship's obedient humble servant.

(336) Now first printed.  David Stewart Erskine, eleventh Earl of
Buchan.  He was intended for public life, but shortly after
succeeding to the family honours, in 1767, he retired to
Scotland, and devoted himself to literature.  His principal works
were, an Essay on the lives of Fletcher of Saltoun and the Poet
Thomson, and a Life of Napier of Merchiston.  He died at Dryburgh
Abbey in 1829 at the age of eighty-seven.-E.

(337) James the First married, in 1590, Anne, daughter of
Frederick King of Denmark.-E.



Letter 155 To Edward Gibbon, Esq.(338)
[1778.] (page 210)

Dear Sir,
I have gone through your Inquisitor's attack(339) and am far from
being clear that it deserves your giving yourself the trouble of
an answer, as neither the detail nor the result affects your
argument.  So far from it, many of his reproofs are levelled at
your having quoted a wrong page; he confessing often that what
you have cited is in the author, referred to, but not precisely
in the individual spot.  If St. Peter is attended by a corrector
of the press, you will certainly never be admitted where he is a
porter.  I send you my copy, because I scribbled my remarks.  I
do not send them with the impertinent presumption of suggesting a
hint to you, but to prove I did not grudge the trouble of going
through such a book when you desired it, and to show how little
struck me as of any weight.

I have set down nothing on your imputed plagiarisms; for, if they
are so, no argument that has ever been employed must be used
again, even where the passage necessary is applied to a different
purpose.  An author is not allowed to be master of his own works;
but, by Davis's new law, the first person that cites him would be
so.  You probably looked into Middleton, Dodwell, etc.; had the
same reflections on the same circumstances, or conceived them so
as to recollect them, without remembering what suggested them.
Is this plagiarism? If it is, Davis and such cavillers might go a
short step further, and insist that an author should peruse every
work antecedently written on every subject at all collateral to
his own.-not to assist him, but to be sure to avoid every
material touched by his predecessors.  I will make but one remark
on such divine champions.  Davis and his prototypes tell you
Middleton, etc.  have used the same objections, and they have
been confuted: answering, in the theologic dictionary, signifying
confuting; no matter whether there is sense, argument, truth, in
the answer or not.

Upon the whole I think ridicule is the only answer such a work is
entitled to.' The ablest, answer which you can make (which would
be the ablest answer that could be made) would never have any
authority with the cabal, yet would allow a sort of dignity to
the author.  His patrons will always maintain that he vanquished
you, unless u made him too ridiculous for them to dare to revive
his name.  You might divert yourself, too, with Alma Mater, the
church, employing a goviat to defend the citadel, while the
generals repose in their tents.  If irenaeus, St. Augustine, etc.
did not set apprentices and proselytes to combat Celsus and the
adversaries of the new religion---but early bishops had not five
or six thousand pounds a-year.

In short, dear Sir, I wish you not to lose your time; that is,
either ,not reply, or set your mark on your answer, that it may
always be read with the rest of your works.

(338) Now first collected.

(339) "An Examination of the Fifteenth and Sixteenth Chapters of
Mr. Gibbon's History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire.
By Henry Edward Davis, B.A. of Baliol College, Oxford."  He was
born in 1756 and died in 1784, at the early age of twenty-seven.
He was a native of Windsor, and is believed to have received a
present from George the Third for this production.-E.



Letter 156 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Strawberry Hill, Jan. 3, 1779. (page 211)

At last, after ten weeks I have been able to remove hither, in
hopes change of air and the frost will assist my recovery; though
I am not one of those ancients that forget the register, and
think they are to be as well as ever after every fit of illness.
As yet I can barely creep about the room in the middle of the
day.

I have made my printer (now my secretary) copy out the rest of
Mr. Baker's Life; for my own hand will barely serve to write
necessary letters, and complains even of them.  If you know of
any very trusty person passing between London and Cambridge, I
would send it to you, but should not care to trust it by the
coach, nor to any giddy undergraduate that comes to town to see a
play; and, besides, I mean to return you your own notes.  I Will
Say no more than I have said in my apology to you for the manner
in which I have written this life.  With regard to Mr. Baker
himself, I am confident you will find that I have done full
justice to his work and character.  i
do not expect You to approve the inferences I draw against some
other persons; and yet, if his conduct was meritorious, it would
not be easy to excuse those who -were active after doing what he
would not do.  You will not understand this sentence till you
have seen the Life.

I hope you have not been untiled or unpaled by the tempest on
New-year's morning.(340)  I have lost two beautiful elms in a row
before my windows here, and had the skylight demolished in town.
Lady Pomfret's Gothic house in my street lost one of the stone
towers, like those at King's Chapel, and it was beaten through
the roof The top of our cross, too, at Ampthill was thrown down,
as I hear from Lady Ossory this morning.  I remember to have been
told that Bishop Kidder and his wife were killed in their bed in
the palace of Gloucester in 1709,(341) and yet his heirs were
sued for dilapidations.  Lord de Ferrers,(342) who deserves his
ancient honours, is going to repair the castle at Tamworth, and
has flattered me that he will Consult me.  He has a violent
passion for ancestry--and, consequently, I trust will not stake
the patrimony of the Ferrars, Townshends, and Comptons, at the
hazard-table.  A little pride would not hurt our nobility, cock
and hen.  Adieu, dear Sir; send me a good account of yourself
Yours ever.

(340) On the 1st of January, 1779, London was visited by one of
the most violent tempests ever known.  Scarcely a public building
in the metropolis escaped without damage.-E.

(341) The memorable storm here alluded to took place in November,
1703, and Bishop Kidder and his lady perished in their bed at the
episcopal palace at Wells by the fall of a stack of chimneys.
They were privately interred in the cathedral; and one of his
daughters, dying single, directed by her will a monument to be
erected for her parents.-E.

(342) Robert, sixth Earl Ferrers.  He had just succeeded to the
title, by the death of his brother Washington, vice-admiral of
the blue,; who had begun to rebuild the mansion of Stanton
Harold, in Leicestershire, according to a plan of his own, and
lived to see it nearly finished.-E.



Letter 157 To The Hon. H. S. Conway.
Arlington Street; Jan. 9, 1779. (page 212)

Your flight to Bath would have much surprised me, if Mr.
Churchill, who, I think, heard it from Stanley, had not prepared
me for it.  Since you was amused, I am glad you went, especially
as you escaped being initiated in Mrs. Miller's follies at
Batheaston,(343) which you would have mentioned.  She would
certainly have sent some trapes of a Muse to press you, had she
known what good epigrams you write.

I went to Strawberry partly out of prudence, partly from ennui.
I thought it best to air myself before I go in and out of hot
rooms here, and had my house thoroughly warmed for a week
previously, and then only stirred from the red room to the blue
on the same floor.  I stayed five days, and was neither the
better nor the worse for it.  I was quite tired with having
neither company, books, nor amusement of any kind.  Either from
the emptiness of the town, or that ten weeks of gout have worn
out the patience of all my acquaintance, but I do not see three
persons in three days.  This gives me but an uncomfortable
prospect for my latter days: it is but probable that I may be a
cripple in a fit or two more, if I have strength to go through
them; and, as that will be long life, one outlives one's
acquaintance.  I cannot make new acquaintance, nor interest
myself at all about the young, except those that belong to me;
nor does that go beyond contributing to their pleasures, without
having much satisfaction in their conversation-But-one must take
every thing as it comes, and make the best of it., I have had a
much happier life than I deserve, and than millions that deserve
better.  I should be very weak if I could not bear the
uncomfortableness of old age, when I can afford what comforts it
is capable of.  How many poor old people have none of them!  I am
ashamed whenever I am peevish, and recollect that I have fire and
servants to help me.

I hear Admiral Keppel is in high spirits with the great respect
and zeal expressed for him.  In my own opinion, his constitution
will not stand the struggle.  I am very uneasy too for the Duke
of Richmond, who is at Portsmouth, and will be at least as much
agitated.

Sir William Meredith has written a large pamphlet, and a very
good one.  It is to show, that whenever the Grecian republics
taxed their dependents, the latter resisted, and shook off the
yoke.  He has printed but twelve copies: the Duke of Gloucester
sent me one of them.  There is an anecdote of my father, on the
authority of old Jack White, which I doubt.  It says, he would
not go on with the excise scheme, though his friends advised it,
I cannot speak to the particular event, as I was, then at school;
but it was more like him to have yielded, against his sentiments,
to Mr. Pelham and his candid--or say, plausible--and timid
friends.  I have heard him say, that he never did give up his
opinion to such men but he always repented it.  However, the
anecdote in the, book would be more to his honour.  But what a
strange man is Sir William!  I suppose, now he has written this
book, he will change his opinion, and again be for carrying on
the war--or, if he does not know his own mind for two years
together, why will he take places, to make every body doubt his
honesty?

(343) See ant`e, P. 125, letter 86.-E.



Letter 158 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
January 15, 1779. (page 213)

I sent you by Dr. Jacob, as you desired, my Life of Mr. Baker,
and with it your own materials.  I beg you will communicate my
Manuscript to nobody, but if you think it worth your trouble I
will consent to your transcribing it; but on one condition, and a
silly one for Me to exact, who am as old as You, and broken to
pieces, and very unlikely to survive you; but, should so
improbable a thing happen, I must exact that you will keep your
transcript sealed up, with orders written on the cover to be
restored to me in case of an accident, for I should Certainly
dislike very much to see it printed without my consent.  I should
not think of your copying it, if you did not love to transcribe,
and sometimes things of as little value as my manuscript.  I
shall beg to have it returned to me by a safe hand as soon as you
can, for I have nothing but the foul copy, which nobody can read,
I believe, but I and my secretary.

I am actually printing my Justification about Chatterton, but
only two hundred copies to give away; for I hate calling in the
whole town to a fray, of which otherwise probably not one
thousand persons would ever hear.  You shall have a copy as soon
as ever it is finished, which my printer says will be in three
weeks.

You know my printer is my secretary too: do not imagine I am
giving myself airs of a numerous household of officers.  I shall
be glad to see the letter of Mr. Baker you mentioned.  You will
perceive two or three notes in my manuscript in a different hand
from mine, or that of my amanuensis (still the same officer;)
they were added by a person I lent it to, and I have effaced part
of the last.

I must finish, lest Dr. Jacob should call, and my parcel not be
ready.  I hope your sore throat is gone; my gout has returned
again a little with taking the air only, but did not stay--
however, I am still confined, and almost ready to remain so, to
prevent disappointment.  Yours most sincerely.



Letter 159 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Arlington Street, Jan. 28, 1779. (page 214)

I write in as much hurry as you did, dear Sir, and thank you for
the motive of yours mine is to prevent your fatiguing yourself in
copying my manuscript, for which I am not in the least haste:
pray keep it till another safe conveyance presents itself.  You
may bring the gout, that is, I am sorry to hear, flying about
you, into your hand by wearying it.

How can you tell me I may well be cautious about my manuscript
and yet advise me to print it?--No-I shall not provoke nests of
hornets, till I am dust, as they will be too.

If I dictated tales when ill in my bed, I must have been worse
than I thought; for, as I know nothing of it, I must have been
light-headed.  Mr. Lort was certainly misinformed, though he
seems to have told you the story kindly to the honour of my
philosophy or spirits-but I had rather have no fame than what I
do not deserve.

I am fretful or low-spirited at times in the gout, like other
weak old men, and have less to boast than most men.  I have some
strange things in my drawer, even wilder than the Castle of
Otranto, and called Hieroglyphic Tales; but they were not written
lately, nor in the gout, nor, whatever they may seem, written
when I was out of my senses.  I showed one or two of them to a
person since my recovery, who may have mentioned them, and
occasioned Mr. Lort's misintelligence.  I did not at all perceive
that the latter looked ill; and hope he is quite recovered.  You
shall see Chatterton soon.  Adieu!



Letter 160To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
February 4, 1779. (page 215)

I have received the manuscript, and though you forbid my naming
the subject more, I love truth, and truth in a friend so much,
that I must tell you, that so far from taking your sincerity ill,
I had much rather you should act with your native honest
sincerity than say you was pleased with my manuscript.  I have
always tried as much as is in human nature to divest myself of
the self-love of an author; in the present case I had less
difficulty than ever, for I never thought my Life of Mr. Baker
one of my least indifferent works.  You might, believe me, have
sent me your long letter; whatever it contained, it would not
have made a momentary cloud between us.  I have not only
friendship, but great gratitude for you, for a thousand instances
of kindness; and should detest any writing of mine that made a
breach with a friend, and still more, if it could make me forget
obligations.



Letter 161 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
February 18, 1779. (page 215)

I sent you my Chattertoniad(344) last week,,in hopes it would
sweeten your pouting; but I find it has not, or has miscarried;
for You have not 'acknowledged the receipt with your usual
punctuality.

Have you seen Hasted's new History of Kent?(345)  I am sailing
through it, but am stopped every minute by careless mistakes.
They tell me the author has good materials, but is very
negligent, and so I perceive, He has not even given a list of
monuments in the churches, which I do not remember in any history
of a county; but he is rich in pedigrees; though I suppose they
have many errors too, as I have found some in those I am
acquainted with- It is unpardonable to be inaccurate in a work in
which one nor expects nor demands any thing but fidelity.(346)

We have a great herald arising in a very noble race, Lord de
Ferrers.  I hope to make him a Gothic architect too, for he is
going to repair Tamworth Castle and flatters me that I shall give
him sweet counseil!  I enjoin him to kernellare.  Adieu! Yours
ever.

(344) "A Letter to the Editor of the Miscellanies of Thomas
Chatterton." Strawberry Hill, 1779, 8vo.-E.

(345) "The History and Topographical Survey of the County of
Kent; by Edward Hasted," four volumes, folio, 1778-1799.  A
second and improved edition, in twelve volumes, octavo, appeared
in 1797-1801. Mr. Hasted died in 1812 at the age of eighty.-E.

(346) in a memoir of himself, which, he drew up for the
Gentleman's Magazein, to be published after his death, he says,
"his laborious History of Kent took him more than forty years;
during the whole series of which
he spared neither pains nor expense to bring it to maturity."-E.



Letter 162 To Sir David Dalrymple.(347)
Arlington Street, March 12, 1779. (page 216)

I have received this moment from your bookseller, Sir, the
valuable present of the second volume of your "Annals," and beg
leave to return you my grateful thanks for so agreeable a gift,
of which I can only have taken a look enough to lament that you
do not intend to continue the work.  Repeated and severe attacks
of the gout forbid my entertaining- visions of pleasures to come;
but though I might not have the advantage of your labours, Sir, I
wish too well to posterity not to be sorry that you check your
hand.

Lord Buchan did me the honour lately of consulting me on
portraits of illustrious Scots.  I recollect that there is at
Windsor a very good portrait of your countryman Duns Scotus,(348)
whose name struck me on just turning over your volume.  A good
print was made from that picture some years ago, but I believe it
is not very scarce: as it is not worth while to trouble his
lordship with another letter for that purpose only, may I take
the liberty, Sir, of begging you to mention it to his lordship?

(347) Now first collected.

(348) Granger considers the portrait of Windsor not to be
genuine.  Of Duns Scotus, he says, "It requires one half of a
man's life to read the works of this profound doctor, and the ,
other to understand his subtleties.  His printed works are in
twelve volumes in folio! His manuscripts are sleeping in Merton
College, Oxford.  Voluminous works frequently arise from the
ignorance and confused ideas of the authors: if angels, says Mr.
Norris, were writers, we should have few folios.  He was the head
of the sect of schoolmen called scotists.  He died in 1308."-E.



Letter 163 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Strawberry Hill, March 28, 1779. (page 216)

Your last called for no answer; and I have so little to tell you,
that I only write to-day to avoid the air of remissness.  I came
hither on Friday, for this last week has been too hot to stay in
London; but March is arrived this morning with his northeasterly
malice, and I suppose will assert his old-style claim to the
third of April.  The poor infant apricots will be the victims to
that Herod of the almanack.  I have been much amused with new
travels through Spain by a Mr. Swinburne(349)--at least with the
Alhambra, of the inner parts of which there are two beautiful
prints.  The Moors were the most polished, and had the most taste
of any people in the Gothic ages; and I hate the knave Ferdinand
and his bigoted Queen for destroying them.  These new travels are
simple, and do tell you a little more than late voyagers, by
whose accounts one would think there was nothing in Spain but
muleteers and fandangos.  In truth, there does not seem to be
much worth seeing but prospects; and those, unless I were a bird,
I would never visit, when the accommodations are so wretched.

Mr. Cumberland has given the town a masque, called Calypso,(350)
which is a prodigy of dulness.  Would you believe, that such a
sentimental Writer would be so gross as to make cantharides one
of the ingredients of a love-potion, for enamouring Telemachus?
If you think I exaggerate, here are the lines:

"To these, the hot Hispanian fly
Shall bid his languid pulse beat high."

Proteus and Antiope are Minerva's missioners for securing the
prince's virtue, and in recompense they are married and crowned
king and queen!

I have bought at Hudson's sale a fine design of a chimney-piece,
by Holbein, for Henry VIII.  If I had a room left I would erect.
It is certainly not so Gothic as that in my Holbein room; but
there is a great deal of taste for that bastard style; perhaps it
was executed at Nonsuch.  I do intend, under Mr. Essex's
inspection, to begin my offices next spring.  It is late in my
day, I confess, to return to brick and mortar but I shall be glad
to perfect my plan, or the' next possessor will marry my castle
to a Doric stable.  There is a perspective through two or three
rooms in the Alhambra, that might easily be improved into Gothic,
though there seems but small affinity between them; and they
might be finished within with Dutch tiles, and painting, or bits
of ordinary marble, as there must be gilding.  Mosaic seems to be
their chief ornaments, for walls, ceilings, and floors.  Fancy
must sport in the furniture, and mottos might be gallant, and
would be very Arabesque.  I would have a mixture of colours, but
with a strict attention to harmony and taste; and some one should
predominate, as supposing it the favourite colour of the lady who
was sovereign of the knight's affections who built the house.
Carpets are classically Mahometans, and fountains--but, alas! our
climate till last summer was never romantic! Were I not so old, I
would at least build a Moorish novel-for you see my head Turns on
Granada-and by taking the most picturesque parts of the Mahometan
and Catholic religions, and with the mixture of African and
Spanish names, one might make something very agreeable--at least
I will not give the hint to Mr. Cumberland.  Adieu! Yours ever.

(349) "Travels through Spain in the Years 1775 and 1776; in which
several Monuments of Roman and Moorish Architecture are
illustrated by accurate Drawings taken on the spot.  By Henry
Swinburne." London, 1779, 4to.  Mr. Swinburne also published, in
1783-5 his "Travels in the Two Sicilies during the Years
1777-8-9, and 1780."  This celebrated traveller was the youngest
son of Sir John Swinburne, of Capheaton, Northumberland; the
long-established seat of that ancient Roman Catholic family.
Pecuniary embarrassments, arising from the marriage of his
daughter to Paul Benfield, Esq.  and consequent involvement in
the misfortunes of that adventurer, induced him to obtain a Place
in the newly-ceded settlement of Trinidad, where he died in
1803.-E.

(350) "Calypso" was brought out at Covent-Garden theatre, but was
performed only a few nights.  \ It was imprudently ushered in by
a prelude, in which the author treated the newspaper editors as a
set of unprincipled fellows.-E.



Letter 164 To Edward Gibbon, Esq.(351)
(1779.] (page 218)

The penetration, solidity, and taste, that made you the first of
historians, dear Sir, prevent my being surprised at your being
the best writer of controversial pamphlets too.(352)  I have read
you with more precipitation than such a work deserved, but I
could not disobey you and detain it.  Yet even in that hurry I
could discern, besides a thousand beauties and strokes of wit,
the inimitable eighty-third page, and the conscious dignity that
you maintain throughout, over your monkish antagonists.  When you
are so superior in argument, it would look like insensibility to
the power of your reasoning, to select transient passages for
commendation; and yet I must mention one that pleased me
particularly, from the delicacy of the severity, and from its
novelty too; it is, bold is not the word.  This is the feathered
arrow of Cupid, that is more formidable than the club of
Hercules.  I need not specify thanks, when I prove how much I
have been pleased.  Your most obliged.

(351) Now first collected.

(352) Gibbon's celebrated "Vindication" of the Fifteenth and
Sixteenth Chapters of his History appeared early in the year
1779.  "I adhered," he says in his Memoirs, "to the wise
resolution of trusting myself and my writing to the candour of
the public, till Mr. Davis of Oxford presumed to attack, not the
faith but the fidelity of the historian.  My Vindication,
expressive of less anger than contempt, amused for a moment the
busy and idle metropolis; and the most rational Part of the
laity, and even of the clergy, appear to have been satisfied of
my innocence and accuracy I would not print it in quarto, lest it
should be bound and preserved with the history itself At the
distance of twelve years, I calmly affirm my judgment of Davis,
Chelsum, etc.  A victory over such antagonists was a sufficient
humiliation.  They, however were rewarded in this world, Poor
Chelsum was, indeed, neglected; and I dare not boast the making
Dr. Watson a bishop: he is a prelate of a large mind and a
liberal spirit: but I enjoyed the pleasure of giving a royal
pension to Mr. Davis, and of collating Dr. Althorpe to an
archiepiscopal living."-E.



Letter 165 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Arlington Street, April 12, 1779. (page 218)

As your gout was so concise, I will not condole on it, but I am
sorry you are liable to it if you do but take the air.  Thank you
for telling me of the vendible curiosities at the Alderman's.
For St. Peter's portrait to hang to a fairie's watch, I shall not
think of it, both as I do not believe it very like, and as it is
composed of invisible Writing, for which my eyes are not young
enough.  In truth, I have almost left off making purchases: I
have neither room for any thing more, nor inclination for them,
as I reckon every thing very dear when One has so little time to
enjoy it.  However, I cannot say but the plates by Rubens do
tempt me a little--yet, as I do not care to, buy even Rubens in a
poke, I should wish to know if the Alderman would let me see.  if
it were but one.  Would he be persuaded? I would pay for the
carriage, though I should not buy them.

Lord de Ferrers will be infinitely happy with the sight of the
pedigree, and I will certainly tell him of it, and how kind you
are.

Strype's account, or rather Stow's, of Richard's person is very
remarkable--but I have done with endeavouring at truth.  Weeds
grow more naturally than what one plants.  I hear your
Cantabrigians are still unshaken Chattertonians.  Many men are
about falsehood like girls about the first man that makes love to
them: a handsomer, a richer, or even a sincerer lover cannot
eradicate the first impression--but a sillier swain, or a sillier
legend, sometimes gets into the head of a miss or the learned
man, and displaces the antecedent folly.  Truth's kingdom is not
of this world.

I do not know whether our clergy are growing Mahometans or not:
they certainly are not what they profess themselves--but as you
and I should not agree perhaps in assigning the same defects to
them, I will not enter on a subject which I have promised you to
drop.  All I allude to now is, the shocking murder of Miss
Ray(353) by a divine.  In my own opinion we are growing more fit
for Bedlam, than for Mahomet's paradise.  The poor criminal in
question, I am persuaded, is mad--and the misfortune is, the law
does not know how to define the shades of madness; and thus there
-are twenty outpensioners of Bedlam, for the one that is
confined.  You, dear Sir, have chosen a wiser path to happiness
by depending on yourself for amusement.  Books and past ages draw
one into no scrapes, and perhaps it is best not to know much of
men till they are dead.  I wish you health -,You want nothing
else.  I am, dear Sir, yours most truly.

(353) On the 7th of April, Miss Reay, who had been the mistress
of Lord Sandwich for twenty years, by whom she was the mother of
many children, was shot, on her leaving Covent-Garden theatre, by
the Rev. James Hackman, who had the living of Wiverton, in
Norfolk, a young man not half her age, who had imbibed a violent
passion for her, whom he first met at Lord Sandwich's seat at
Hinchinbroke, where he had been frequently invited to dine while
commanding a recruiting party at Huntingdon; he being, previously
to his entering the church, a lieutenant in the 68th regiment of
foot.  Having shot Miss Reay, he fired a pistol at himself; but,
being only wounded by it, he was tried at the Old Bailey,
convicted, and executed.-E.



Letter 166 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Arlington Street, April 20, 1779. (page 219)

Dear Sir,
I have received the plates very safely, but hope You nor the
Alderman,(354) will take it ill that I return them.  They are
extremely pretty, and uncommonly well preserved; but I am sure
they are not by Rubens, nor I believe after his designs, for I am
persuaded they are older than his time.  In truth, I have a great
many Of the same sort, and do not wish for more.  I shall send
them back on Thursday by the Fly, and will beg you to inquire
after them; and I trust they will arrive as safely as they did to
Yours ever.

(354) Alderman John Boydell, an English engraver; distinguished
as an encourager of the fine arts.  In 1790 he held the office of
Lord Mayor of London, and died in 1804.-E.



Letter 167 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
April 23, 1779. (page 220)

I ought not to trouble you so often when you are not well; but
that is the very cause of my writing now.  You left off abruptly
from disorder, and therefore I wish to know it is gone.  The
plates I hope got home safe.  They are pretty, especially the
reverses; but the drawing in general is bad.

Pray tell me what you mean by a priced catalogue of the pictures
at Houghton.  Is it a printed one? if it is, where is it to be
had?--odd questions from me, and which I should not wish to have
mentioned as coming from me.  I have been told to-day that they
are actually sold to the Czarina--sic transit! mortifying enough,
were not every thing transitory! we must recollect that our
griefs and pains are so, as well as our joys and glories; and, by
balancing the account, a grain of comfort is to be extracted!
Adieu! I shall be heartily glad to receive a better account of
you.



Letter 168 To Mrs. Abington.(355)
(1779.] (page 220)

Mr. Walpole cannot express how much he is mortified that he
cannot accept of Mrs. Abington's obliging invitation, as he had
engaged company to dine with him on Sunday at Strawberry-hill;
whom he would put off, if not foreigners who are leaving England.
Mr. Walpole hopes, however, that this accident will not prevent
an acquaintance, which his admiration of Mrs. Abington'S genius
has made him long desire; and which he hopes to cultivate at
Strawberry Bill, when her leisure will give him leave to trouble
her with an invitation.

(355) Now first collected.



Letter 169 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Arlington Street, May 21, 1779. (page 221)

As Mr. Essex has told me that you still continue out of order, I
am impatient to hear from yourself how you are.  Do send me a
line: I hope it will be a satisfactory one.  you know that Dr.
Ducarel has published a translation of a
History of the Abbey of Bec!  There is a pretty print to it: and
one very curious circumstance, at least valuable to us disciples
of Alma Mater Etonensis.  The ram-hunting was derived from the
manor of Wrotham in Norfolk, which formerly belonged to Bec, and
being forfeited, together with other alien priories, was bestowed
by Henry VI.  on our college.  I do not repine at reading any
book from which I can learn a single fact that I wish to know.
For the lives of the abbots, they were, according to the author,
all pinks of piety and holiness but there are few other facts
amusing, especially with regard to the customs of those savage
times-excepting that the Empress Matilda was buried in a bull's
hide, and afterwards had a tomb covered with silver.  There is
another new book called "Sketches from Nature," in two volumes,
by Mr. G. Keate, in which I found one fact too, that, if
authentic, is worth knowing.  The work is an imitation of Sterne,
and has a sort of merit, though nothing that arrives at
originality.

For the foundation of the church of Reculver, he quotes a
manuscript said to be written by a Dominican friar of Canterbury,
and preserved at Louvain.  The story is evidently metamorphosed
into a novel.  and has very little of an antique air; but it
affirms that the monkish author attests the beauty of Richard
III.  This is very absurd, if invention has nothing to do with
the story; and therefore one should suppose it genuine.  I have
desired Dodsley to ask Mr. Keate, if there truly exists such, a
manuscript: if there does, I own I wish he had printed it rather
than his own production; for I am with Mr. Gray, "that any man
living may make a book worth reading, if he will but set down
with truth what he has seen or heard, no matter whether the book
is well written or not."  Let those who can write, glean.



Letter 170 To The Hon. H. S. Conway.
Arlington Street, May 22, 1779. (page 221)

If you hear of us no oftener than we of you, you will be as much
behindhand in news as my Lady Lyttelton.  We have seen a
traveller that saw you in your island,(356) but it sounds like
hearing of Ulysses.  Well! we must be content.
 YOU are not only not dethroned, but owe the safety of your
dominions to your own skill in fortification.  if we do not hear
of your extending your conquests, why, is it not less than all
our modern heroes have done, whom prophets have foretold and
gazettes celebrated--or who have foretold and celebrated
themselves.  Pray be content to be cooped up in an island that
has no neighbours, when the Howes and Clintons and Dunmores and
Burgoynes and Campbells are not yet got beyond the great river--
Inquiry!(357) To-day's papers say, that the little Prince of
Orange(358) is to invade you again; but we trust Sir James
Wallace has clipped his wings so close, that they will not grow
again this season, though he is so ready to fly.

Nothing material has happened since I wrote last-so, as every
moment of a civil war is precious, every one has been turned to
the interest of diversion.  There have been three masquerades, an
Installation, and the ball of the knights at the Haymarket this
week; not to mention Almack's festino, Lady Spencer's, Ranelagh
and Vauxhall, operas and plays.  The Duchess of Bolton too saw
masks--so many, that the floor gave way, and the company in the
dining-room were near falling on the heads of those in the
parlour, and exhibiting all that has not yet appeared in Doctors'
Commons.  At the knights' ball was such a profusion of
strawberries, that people could hardly get into the supper-room.
I could tell you more, but I do not love to exaggerate.  Lady
Ailesbury told me this morning that Lord Bristol has got a calf
with two feet to each  leg--I am convinced it is by the Duchess
of Kingston, who has got two of every thing where others have but
one.(359)  Adieu! I am going to sup with Mrs. Abington--and hope
Mrs. Clive will not hear of it.

(356) Mr. Conway was now at his government of Jersey.

(357) The parliamentary inquiry which took place in the House of
Commons on the conduct of the American war.

(358) The Prince of Nassau, who had commanded the attack upon
Jersey, claiming relationship to the great house of Nassau Mr.
Walpole calls him the "little Prince of Orange." Gibbon, in a
letter to Mr. Holroyd, of the 7th, says, "You have heard of the
Jersey invasion; every body praises Arbuthnot's decided spirit.
Conway went last night to throw himself into the island."-E.

(359) "Do you know, my lord," said the Duchess, then Miss
Chudleigh, to Lord Chesterfield, "the world says I have had
twins!"  "Does it?" said his lordship; "I make a point of
believing only one-half of what it says."-E.



Letter 171 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Strawberry Hill, June 2, 1779. (page 222)

I am most sincerely rejoiced, dear Sir, that you find yourself at
all better, and trust it is an omen of farther amendment.  Mr.
Essex surprised me by telling me, that you, who keep yourself so
warm and so numerously clothed, do yet sometimes, if the sun
shines, sit and write in your garden for hours at a time.  It is
more than I should readily do, whose habitudes are so very
different from yours.  Your complaints seem to demand
perspiration--but I do not venture to advise.  I understand no
constitution but my own, and should kill Milo, if I managed him
as I treat myself.  I sat in a window on Saturday, with the east
wind blowing on my neck till near two in the morning-and it seems
to have done me good, for I am better within these two days than
I have been these six months.  My spirits have been depressed,
and my nerves so aspen, that the smallest noise disturbed me.
To-day I do not feel a complaint; which is something at near
sixty-two.

I don't know whether I have not misinformed you, nor am sure it
was Dr. Ducarel who translated the account of the Abbey of Bec--
he gave it to Mr. Lort; but I am not certain he ever published
it.  You was the first that notified to me the fifth volume of
the Archaeologia--I am not much more edified than usual; but
there are three pretty prints of Reginal Seats.  Mr. Pegge's
tedious dissertation, which he calls a brief one, about the
foolish legend of St. George, is despicable: all his arguments
are equally good for proving the existence of the dragon.  What
diversion might laughers make of the society!  Dolly Pentraeth,
the old woman of Mousehole, and Mr. Penneck's nurse. p. 81, would
have furnished Foote with two personages for a farce.  The same
grave dissertation on patriarchal customs seems to have as much
to do with British antiquities, as the Lapland: witches that sell
wind--and pray what business has the Society With Roman
inscriptions in Dalmatia! I am most pleased With the account of
Nonsuch, imperfect as it is: it appears to have been but a villa,
and not considerable for a royal one.  You see lilacs were then a
novelty.  Well, I am glad they publish away.  The vanity of
figuring in these repositories will make many persons contribute
their manuscripts, and every now and then something valuable Will
come to light, which its own intrinsic merit might not have
saved.
\
I know nothing more of Houghton.  I should certainly be glad to
have the priced catalogue; and if you will lend me yours, my
printer shall transcribe it-but I am in no hurry.  I Conceive
faint hopes, as the sale is not concluded: however, I take care
not to flatter myself.

I think I told you I had purchased, at Mr. Ives's sale, a
handsome coat in painted glass, of Hobart impaling Boleyn--but I
can find no such match in my pedigree--yet I have heard that
Blickling belonged to Ann Boleyn's father.  Pray reconcile all
this to me.                                               '

Lord de Ferrers is to dine here on Saturday; and I have got to
treat him with an account of ancient painting, formerly in the
hall of Tammworth Castle; they are mentioned in Warton's
Observations on the Fairy Queen, Vol i. p. 43.

Do not put yourself' to pain to answer this--only be assured I
shall be happy to know when you are able to write with ease.  You
must leave Your cloister, if Your transcribing leaves you.
Believe me, dear Sir, Ever most truly.



Letter 172 To The Rev. Dr. Lort.
Strawberry Hill, June 4, 1779. (page 224)

I am sorry, dear Sir, you could not let me have the pleasure of
your company; but, I own, you have partly, not entirely, made me
amends by the sight of your curious manuscript, which I return
you, with your other book of inaugurations.

The sight of the manuscript was particularly welcome to me,
because the long visit of Henry VI. and his uncle Gloucester, to
St. Edmund's Bury, accounts for those rare altar tablets that I
bought at Mr. Ives's sale, on which are incontestably the
portraits of Duke Humphrey, Cardinal Beaufort, and the same
archbishop that is in my Marriage of Henry VI.  I know the house
of Lancaster were patrons of St. Edmund's Bury; but so long a
visit is demonstration.

The fourth person on my panels is unknown.  Over his head is a
coat of arms. but may be that of W. Curteys the abbot, or the
alderman, as he is in scarlet.  His figure and the Duke's are far
superior to the other two, and worthy of a good Italian master.
The Cardinal and the Archbishop are in the dry hard manner of the
age.  I wish you would call and look at them; they are at Mr.
Bonus's in Oxford-road; the two prelates are much damaged.  I
peremptorily enjoined Bonus to repair only, and not to repaint
them; and thus, by putting him out of his way, I have put him so
much out of humour too, that he has kept them these two years,
and not finished them yet.  I design them for the four void
spaces in my chapel, on the sides of the shrine.  The Duke of
Gloucester's face is so like, though younger, that it proves I
guessed right at his figure in my Marriage.  The tablets came out
of the abbey of Bury; were procured by old Peter Le Neve, Norroy;
and came by his widow's marriage to Tom Martin, at whose sale Mr.
Ives bought them.  We have very few princely portraits so
ancient, so authentic, and none so well painted as the Duke and
fourth person.  These were the insides of the doors, which I had
split into two, and value them extremely.  This account I think
will be more satisfactory to you than notes.

Pray tell me how you like the pictures when you have examined
them.  I shall search in Edmondson's new Vocabulary of Arms for
the coat which contains three bulls' heads on six pieces; but the
colours are either white and black.  or the latter is become so
by time.  I hope you are not going out of town yet; I shall
probably be there some day in next week.

I see advertised a book something in the way of your
inaugurations, called Le Costume; do you know any thing of it?
Can YOU tell me who is the author of the Second Anticipation on
the Exhibition? Is not it Barry the painter?



Letter 173 To The Hon. H. S. Conway.
Strawberry Hill, Saturday, June 5, 1779. (page 225)

I write to you more seldom than I am disposed to do, from having
nothing positive to tell you, and from being unwilling to say and
unsay every minute something that is reported positively.  The
confident assertions of the victory over D'Estaing are totally
vanished-and they who invented them, now declaim as bitterly
against Byron, as if he had deceived them-and as they did against
Keppel.  This day se'nnight there was a great alarm about
Ireland-which was far from being all invention, though not an
absolute insurrection, as it was said." The case, I believe, was
this:-The court, in order to break the volunteer army established
by the Irish themselves, endeavoured to persuade a body in Lady
Blayney's county of Monaghan to enlist in the militia--which they
took indignantly.  They said, they had great regard for Lady
Blayney and Lord Clermont; but to act under them, would be acting
under the King, and that was by no means their intention.  There
have since been motions for inquiries what steps the ministers
have taken to satisfy the Irish-and these they have imprudently
rejected-which will not tend to pacification.  The ministers have
been pushed too on the article of Spain, and could not deny that
all negotiation is at an end--though they will not own farther.
However, the Spanish ambassador is much out of humour.  From
Paris they write confidently of the approaching declaration;(360)
and Lord Sandwich, I hear, has said in a very mixed company, that
it was folly not to expect it.  There is another million asked,
and given on a vote of credit; and Lord North has boasted of such
mines for next year,,that one would think he believed next year
would never Come.

The Inquiry(361) goes on,
and Lord Harrington did honour himself and Burgoyne.  Barr`e and
Governor Johnstone have had warm words,(362) and Burke has been
as frantic for the Roman Catholics as Lord George Gordon against
them.  The Parliament, it is said, is to rise on the 21st.

YOU Will not collect from all this that our prospect clears up.
I fear there is not more discretion in the treatment of Ireland
than of America.  The court seems to-be infatuated and to think
that nothing is of any consequence but a majority in
Parliament-though they have totally lost all power but that of
provoking.  Fortunate it had been for the- King and kingdom, had
the court had no majority for these six years! America had still
been ours -and all the lives and all the millions we have
squandered! A majority that has lost thirteen provinces by
bullying and vapouring, and the most childish menaces, will be a
brave countermatch for France and Spain, and a rebellion in
Ireland!  In short, it is plain that there is nothing a majority
in Parliament can do, but outvote a minority; and by their own
accounts one would think they could not even do that.  I saw a
paper t'other day that began with this Iriscism, "As the minority
have lost us thirteen provinces," etc.  I know nothing the
minority have done, or been suffered to do, but restore the Roman
Catholic religion-and that too was by the desire of the court.

This is however the present style.  They announced with infinite
applause a new production of Tickell:--it has appeared, and is a
most paltry performance.  It is called the Cassette Verte of M.
de Sartine, and pretends to be his correspondence with the
opposition.  Nay, they are so pitifully mean as to laugh at Dr.
Franklin, who has such thorough reason to sit and laugh at them.
What triumph it must be to him to see a miserable pamphlet all
the revenge they can take! There is another, still duller, called
Opposition Mornings, in which you are lugged in.  In truth, it is
a compliment to any man to except him out of the number of those
that have contributed to the shocking disgraces inflicted on this
undone country.  When Lord Chatham was minister, he never replied
to abuse but by a victory.

I know no private news: I have been here ever since Tuesday,
enjoying my tranquillity, as much as an honest man can do who
sees his country ruined.  It is just such a period as makes
philosophy wisdom.  There are great moments when every man is
called on to exert himself-but when folly, infatuation, delusion,
incapacity, and profligacy fling a nation away, and it concurs
itself, and applauds its destroyers, a man who has lent no hand
to the mischief, and can neither prevent nor remedy the mass of
evils, is fully justified in sitting aloof and beholding the
tempest rage, with silent scorn and indignant compassion.  Nay, I
have, I own, some comfortable reflections.  I rejoice that there
is still a great continent of Englishmen who will remain free and
independent, and who laugh at the impotent majorities of a
prostitute Parliament.  I care not whether General Burgoyne and
Governor Johnstone cross over and figure in, and support or
oppose; nor whether Mr. Burke, or the superior of the Jesuits, is
high commissioner to the kirk of Scotland.  My ideas are such as
I have always had, and are too plain and simple to comprehend
modern confusions; and, therefore, they suit with those of few
men.  What will be the issue of this chaos, I know not, and,
probably, shall not see.  I do see with satisfaction, that what
was meditated has failed by the grossest folly; and when one has
escaped the worst, lesser evils must be endured with patience.

After this dull effusion, I will divert you with a story that
made me laugh this morning till I cried.  You know my Swiss
David, and his incomprehensible pronunciation.  He came to me,
and said, "Auh! dar is Meses Ellis wants some of your large flags
to put in her great O."  With much ado, I found out that Mrs.
Ellis had sent for leave to take up some flags out of my meadow
for her grotto.

I hope in a few days to see Lady Ailesbury and Miss Jennings
here; I have writ to propose it.  What are your intentions? Do
you stay till you have made your island impregnable? I doubt it
will be our only one that will be so.

(360) On the breaking out of the war between this country and
America, Spain had offered to mediate between them; but,
receiving a refusal, she at once declared herself a principal in
the war and ready to fulfil the terms of the family compact.-E.

(361) The Inquiry into the Conduct of the American war.

(362) In the course of a debate in the House of Commons, on the
3d of June,
Governor Johnstone told Colonel Barr`e, that he was making a
scaramouch of himself.  The Colonel got up to demand an
explanation, but the Speaker put an end to the altercation.-E.



Letter 174 To The Hon. H. S. Conway.
Strawberry Hill, June 16, 1779. (page 227)

Your Countess was here last Thursday, and received a letter from
you, that told us how slowly you receive ours.  When you will
receive this I cannot guess; but it dates a new era, which you
with reason did not care to look at as possible.  In a word,
behold a Spanish war! I must detail a little to increase your
wonder.  I heard here the day before yesterday that it was
likely; and that night received a letter from Paris, telling me
(it was of the 6th) that Monsieur de Beauveau was going, they
knew not whither, at the head of twenty-five thousand men, with
three lieutenant-generals and six or eight mar`echaux de camp
under him.  Yesterday I went to town, and Thomas Walpole happened
to call on me.  He, who used to be informed early, did not
believe a word either of a Spanish war or a French expedition.  I
saw some other persons in the evening as ignorant.  At night I
went to sup at Richmond-house.  The Duke said the Brest fleet was
certainly sailed, and had got the start of ours by twelve days:
that Monsieur de Beauveau was on board with a large sum of money,
and with white and red cockades; and that there would certainly
be a Spanish war.  He added, that the Opposition were then
pressing in the House of Commons to have the Parliament continue
sitting, and urging to know if we were not at the eve of a
Spanish war; but the ministers persisted in the prorogation ,for
to-morrow or Friday, and would not answer on Spain.

I said I would make you wonder-But no-Why should the Parliament
continue to sit?  Are not the ministers and the Parliament the
same thing?  And how has either House shown that it has any
talent for war?

The Duke of Richmond does not guess whither the Brest fleet is
gone.  He thinks, if to Ireland, we should have known it by this
time.  He has heard that the Prince of Beauveau has said he was
going on an expedition that would be glorious in the eyes of
posterity.  asked, if that might not mean Gibraltar? The Duke
doubts, but hopes it, as he thinks it no wise measure on their
side: yet he was very melancholy, as you will be, on this heavy
accession to our distresses.

Well! here we are, aris et
focis and all at stake! What can we be meaning?  Unable to
conquer America before she was assisted--scarce able to keep
France at bay--are we a match for both, and Spain too? What can
be our view?  nay, what can be Our expectation?  I sometimes
think we reckon it will be more creditable to be forced by France
and Spain to give up America, than to have the merit with the
latter of doing it with grace.-But, as Cato says,

"I'm weary of conjectures--this must end them;"

that is, the sword:--and never, I believe, did a Country Plunge
itself into such difficulties step by step, and for six years,
together, without once recollecting that each foreign war
rendered the object of the civil war more unattainable; and that
in both the foreign wars we have not an object in prospect.
Unable to recruit our remnant of an army in America, are we to
make conquests on France and Spain?  They may choose their
attacks: we can scarce choose what we will defend.

Ireland, they say, is more temperate than was expected.  That is
some consolation-yet many fear the Irish will be tempted to unite
with America, which would throw all that trade into their
convenient harbours; and I own I have apprehensions that the
Parliament's rising without taking a step in their favour may
offend them.  Surely at least we have courageous ministers.  I
thought my father a stout man:--he had not a tithe of their
spirit.

The town has wound up the season perfectly in character by a
f`ete at the Pantheon by subscription. Le Texier managed it; but
it turned out sadly.  The company was first shut into the
galleries to look down on the supper, then let to descend to it.
Afterwards they were led into the subterraneous apartment, which
was laid with mould, and planted with trees, and crammed with
nosegays: but the fresh earth, and the dead leaves, and the
effluvia of breaths made such a stench and moisture, that they
were suffocated; and when they remounted, the legs and wings of
chickens, and remnants Of ham (for the supper was not removed)
poisoned them more.  A druid in an arbour distributed verses to
the ladies; then the Baccelli(363) and the dancers of the Opera
danced; and then danced the company; and then it being morning,
and the candles burnt out, the windows were opened; and then the
stewed-danced assembly were such shocking figures, that they fled
like ghosts as they looked.--I suppose there
will be no more balls unless the French land, and then we shall
show we do not mind it.

Thus I have told you all I know.  You will ponder over these
things in your little distant island, when we have forgotten
them.  There is another person, one Doctor Franklin, who, I
fancy, is not sorry that we divert ourselves so well.  Yours
ever.

(363) After the departure of Mademoiselle Heinel, no dancing so
much delighted the frequenters of the Opera as that of
Mademoiselle Baccelli and M. Vestris le jeune.-E.



Letter 175 To The Hon. George Hardinge.(364)
Strawberry Hill, July 4, 1779. (page 229)

I have now received the drawings of Grignan, and know not how to
express my satisfaction and gratitude but by a silly witticism
that is like the studied quaintness of the last age.  In short,
they are so much more beautiful than I expected, that I am not
surprised at your having surprised me by exceeding even what I
expected from your well-known kindness to me; they are charmingly
executed, and with great taste.  I own too that Grignan is
grander, and in a much finer situation, than I had imagined; as I
concluded that the witchery of Madame de S`evign`e's ideas and
style had spread the same leaf-gold over places with which she
gilded her friends.  All that has appeared of them since the
publication of her letters has lowered them.  A single letter of
her daughter, that to Paulina, with a description of the Duchess
of Bourbon's toilette, is worthy of the mother.  Paulina's own
letters contain not a little worth reading: one just divines that
she might have written well if she had had any thing to write
about (which, however, would not have signified to her
grandmother.) Coulanges was a silly good-humoured glutton, that
flattered a rich widow for her dinners.  His wife was sensible,
but dry, and rather peevish at growing old.  Unluckily nothing
more has come to light of Madame de S`evign`e's son, whose short
letters in the collection I am almost profane enough to prefer to
his mother's; and which makes me astonished that she did not love
his wit, so unaffected, and so congenial to her own, in
preference to the eccentric and sophisticated reveries of her
sublime and ill-humoured daughter.  Grignan alone maintains its
dignity, and shall be consecrated here among other monuments of
that bewitching period, and amongst which one loves to lose
oneself, and drink oblivion of an era so very unlike; for the
awkward bigots to despotism of our time have not Madame de
S`evign`e's address, nor can paint an Indian idol with an hundred
hands as graceful as the Apollo of the Belvidere.  When will you
come and accept my thanks?  will Wednesday next suit you?  But do
you know that I must ask you not to leave your gown behind You,
which indeed I never knew you put on Willingly, but to come in
it.  I shall want your protection at Westminster Hall.  Yours
most cordially.

(364) Son of Nicholas Hardinge, Esq. one of the joint secretaries
of the treasury, and member for the borough of Eye.  He was
educated at Eton school, and finished his studies at Trinity
College, Cambridge, where Dr. Watson was his tutor, He was called
to the bar in 1769, and was subsequently appointed solicitor-
general to the Queen.  in 1787, he was made a Welsh judge, and
died in 1816.  In 1818, the works of this clever and eccentric
scholar were published, with an account of his life, by Mr. John
Nichols.-E.



Letter 176 To The Countess Of Ailesbury.
Saturday night, July 10, 1779. (page 230)

I could not thank your ladyship before the post went out to-day,
as I was getting into my chaise to go and dine at Carshalton with
my cousin Thomas Walpole when I received your kind inquiry about
my eye.  It is quite well again, and I hope the next attack of
the gout will be any where rather than in that quarter.

I did not expect Mr. Conway would think of returning just now.
As you have lost both Mrs. Damer and Lady William Campbell, I do
not see why your ladyship should not go to Goodwood.

The Baroness's increasing peevishness does not surprise me.  When
people will not weed their own minds, they are apt to be overrun
with nettles.  She knows nothing of politics, and no wonder talks
nonsense about them.  It is silly to wish three nations had but
one neck; but it is ten times more absurd to act as if it was so,
which the government has done;--ay, and forgetting, too, that it
has not a scimitar large enough to sever that neck, which they
have in effect made one.  It is past the time, Madam, of making
Conjectures.  How can one guess whither France and Spain will
direct a blow that is in their option? I am rather inclined to
think that they will have patience to ruin us in detail.
Hitherto France and America have carried their points by that
manoeuvre.  Should there be an engagement at sea, and the French
and Spanish fleets, by their great superiority, have the
advantage, one knows not what might happen.  Yet, though there
are such large preparations making on the French coast, I do not
much expect a serious invasion, as they are sure they can do us
more damage by a variety of other attacks, where we can make
little resistance.  Gibraltar and Jamaica can but be the
immediate objects of Spain.  Ireland is much worse guarded than
this island:--nay, we must be undone by our expense, should the
summer pass without any attempt.  My cousin thinks they will try
to destroy Portsmouth and Plymouth--but I have seen nothing in
the present
French ministry that looks like bold enterprise.  We are much
more adventurous, that set every thing to the hazard: but there
are such numbers of baronesses that both talk and act with
passion, that one would think the nation had lost its senses.
Every thing has miscarried that has been undertaken, and the
worse we succeed, the more is risked;--yet the nation is not
angry!  How can one conjecture during such a delirium?  I
sometimes almost think I must be in the wrong to be of so
contrary an opinion to most men--yet, when every Misfortune that
has happened had been foretold by a few, why should I not think I
have been in the right?  Has not almost every single event that
has been announced as prosperous proved a gross falsehood, and
often a silly one?  Are we not at this moment assured that
Washington cannot possibly amass an army of above 8000 men!  and
yet Clinton, with 20,000 men, and with the hearts, as we are
told, too, of three parts of the colonies, dares not show his
teeth without the walls of New York? Can I be in the wrong in not
believing what is so contradictory to my senses We could not
Conquer America when it stood alone; then France supported it,
and we did not mend the matter.  To make it still easier, we have
driven Spain into the alliance.  Is this wisdom?  Would it be
presumption, even if one were single, to think that we must have
the worst in such a contest?  Shall I be like the mob, and expect
to conquer France and Spain, and then thunder upon America?  Nay,
but the higher mob do not expect such success.  They would not be
so angry at the house of Bourbon, if not morally certain that
those kings destroy all our passionate desire and expectation of
conquering America.  We bullied, and threatened, and begged, and
nothing would do.  Yet independence was still the word.  Now we
rail at the two monarchs--and when they have banged us, we shall
sue to them as humbly as We did to the Congress.  All this my
senses, such as they are, tell me has been and will be the case.
What is worse, all Europe is of the same opinion; and though
forty thousand baronesses may be ever SO angry, I venture to
prophesy that we shall make but a very foolish figure whenever we
are so lucky as to obtain a peace; and posterity, that may have
prejudices of its own, will still take the liberty to pronounce,
that its ancestors were a woful set of politicians from the year
1774 to--I wish I knew when.

If I might advise, I would recommend Mr. Burrell to command the
fleet in the room of Sir Charles Hardy.  The fortune of the
Burrells is powerful enough to baffle calculation.  Good night,
Madam!

P. S. I have not written to Mr. Conway since this day sevennight,
not having a teaspoonful of news to send him.  I will beg your
ladyship to tell him so.



Letter 177 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Strawberry Hill, July 12, 1779. (page 231)

I am concerned, dear sir, that you gave yourself the trouble of
transcribing the catalogue and prices, which I received last
night, and for which I am exceedingly obliged to you.  Partial as
I am to the pictures at Houghton, I confess I think them much
overvalued.  My father's whole collection, of which alone he had
preserved the prices, cost but 40,000 pounds; and after his death
there were three sales of pictures, among which were all the
whole-lengths of Vandyke but three, which had been sent to
Houghton, but not fitting any of the ,spaces left, came back to
town.  Few of the rest sold were very fine, but no doubt Sir
Robert had paid as dear for many of them; as purchasers are not
perfect connoisseurs at first.  Many of the valuations are not
only exorbitant, but injudicious.  They who made the estimate
seem to have considered the rarity of the hands more than the
excellence.  Three-The, Magi's Offering, by Carlo Maratti, as it
is called, and two supposed Paul Veronese,-are very indifferent
copies, and yet all are roundly valued, and the first
ridiculously.  I do not doubt of another picture in the
collection but the Last Supper, by Raphael, and yet this is set
down at 500 pounds.  I miss three pictures, at least they are not
set down, the Sir Thomas Wharton, and Laud and Gibbons.  The
first is most capital; yes, I recollect I have had some doubts on
the Laud, though the University of Oxford once offered 400 pounds
for it--and if Queen Henrietta is by Vandyke, it is a very
indifferent One.  The affixing a higher value to the Pietro
Cortona than to the octagon Guido is most absurd--I have often
gazed on the latter, and preferred it even to the Doctor's.  In
short, the appraisers were determined to see what the Czarina
Could give, rather than what the pictures were really worth--I am
glad she seems to think so, for I hear no more of the sale--it is
not very wise in me still to concern myself, at my age, about
what I have SO little interest in-it is still less wise to be so
anxious on trifles, when one's country is sinking.  I do not know
which is most Mad, my nephew, or our ministers--both the one and
the other increase my veneration for the founder of Houghton!

I will not rob you of the prints you mention, dear Sir; one of
them at least I know Mr. Pennant gave me.  I do not admire him
for his punctiliousness with you.  Pray tell me the name Of your
glass-painter; I do not think I shall want him, but it is not
impossible.  Mr. Essex agreed With me, that Jarvis's windows for
Oxford, after Sir Joshua Reynolds, will not succeed.  Most of his
colours are opake, and their great beauty depending on a spot of
light for Sun or moon, is an imposition.  When his paintings are
exhibited at Charing-cross, all the rest of the room is darkened
to relieve them.  That cannot be done at New College; or if done,
the chapel would be too dark.  If there are other lights, the
effect will be lost.

This sultry weather will, I hope, quite restore YOU; People need
not go to Lisbon and Naples, if we continue to have such summers.
Yours most sincerely.



Letter 178 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Strawberry Hill, August 12, 1779. (page 232)

I write from decency, dear Sir, not from having any thing
particular to say, but to thank you for your offer of letting me
see the arms of painted glass; which, however, I will decline,
lest it should be broken, and as at present I have no occasion to
employ the painter.  If I build my offices, perhaps I may have;
but I have dropped that thought for this year.  The disastrous
times do not inspire expense.  Our alarms, I conclude, do not
ruffle your hermitage.  We are returning to our state of
islandhood, and shall have little, I believe, to boast but of
what we have been.

I see a History of Alien Priories announced;(365) do you know any
thing of it, or of the author?  I am ever yours.

(365) This was Mr. Gough's well-known work, entitled "Some
Account of the Alien Priories, and of such Lands as they are
known to have possessed in England and Wales," in two volumes
octavo.-E.



Letter 179 To The Countess Of Ailesbury.
Strawberry Hill, Friday night, 1779. (page 233)

I am not at all surprised, my dear Madam, at the intrepidity of
Mrs. Damer;(366) she always was the heroic daughter of a hero.
Her sense and coolness never forsake her.  I, who am not so firm,
shuddered at your ladyship's account.  Now that she has stood
fire for four hours, I hope she will give as clear proofs of her
understanding, of which I have as high opinion as of her courage,
and not return in any danger.

I am to dine at Ditton to-morrow, and will certainly talk on the
subject You recommend; yet I am far, till I have heard more, from
thinking with your ladyship, that more troops and artillery at
Jersey would be desirable.  Any considerable quantity of either,
especially of the former, cannot be spared at this moment, when
so big a cloud 'hangs over this island, nor would any number
avail if the French should be masters at sea.  A large garrison
would but tempt the French thither, were it but to distress this
country; and, what is worse, would encourage Mr. Conway to make
an impracticable defence.  If he is to remain in a situation so
unworthy of him, I confess I had rather he was totally incapable
of making any defence.  I love him enough not to murmur at his
exposing himself where his country and his honour demand him; but
I would not have him measure himself in a place untenable against
very superior force.  My present comfort is, as to him, that
France at this moment has a far vaster object.  I have good
reason to believe the government knows that a great army is ready
to embark at St. Maloes, but will not stir till after a
sea-fight, which we do not know but may be engaged at this
moment.  Our fleet is allowed to be the finest ever set forth by
this country; but it is inferior in number by seventeen ships to
the united squadron of the Bourbons.  France, if successful,
means to pour in a vast many thousands on us, and has threatened
to burn the capital itself, Jersey, my dear Madam, does not enter
into a calculation of such magnitude.  The moment is singularly
awful; yet the vaunts of enemies are rarely executed successfully
and ably.  Have we trampled America under our foot?

You have too good sense, Madam, to be imposed upon by my
arguments, if they are insubstantial.  You do know that I have
had my terrors for Mr. Conway; but at present they are out of the
question, from the insignificance of his island.  DO not listen
to rumours, nor believe a single one till it has been canvassed
over and over.  Fear, folly, fifty Motives, Will coin new reports
every hour at such a conjuncture.  When one is totally void of
credit and power, patience is the only wisdom.  I have seen
dangers still more imminent.  They were dispersed.  Nothing
happens in proportion to what is meditated.  Fortune, whatever
fortune is, is more constant than is the common notion.  I do not
give this as one of my solid arguments, but I have encouraged
myself in being superstitious on the favourable side.  I never,
like most superstitious people, believe auguries against my
wishes.  We have been fortunate in the escape of Mrs. Damer, and
in the defeat at Jersey even before Mr. Conway arrived-, and
thence I depend on the same future prosperity.  From the
authority of persons who do not reason on such airy hopes, I am
seriously persuaded, that if the fleets engage, the enemy will
not gain advantage without deep-felt loss, enough probably to
dismay their invasion.  Coolness may succeed, and then
negotiation.  Surely, if we, can weather the summer, we shall,
obstinate as we are against conviction, be compelled by the want
of money to relinquish our ridiculous pretensions, now proved to
be utterly impracticable; for, with an inferior navy at home, can
we assert sovereignty over America? It is a contradiction in,
terms and in fact.  It may be hard of digestion to relinquish it,
but it is impossible to pursue it.  Adieu, my dear Madam! I have
not left room for a line more.

(366) The packet in which she was crossing from Dover to Ostend
was taken by a French frigate, after a running fight of several
hours.



Letter 180 To The Hon. H. S. Conway.
Strawberry Hill, Sept. 13, 1779. (page 234)

I am writing to you at random; not knowing whether or when this
letter will go: but your brother told me last night that an
officer, whose name I have forgot, was arrived from Jersey, and
would return to you soon.  I am sensible how very seldom I have
written to you-but you have been few moments out of my thoughts.
What they have been, you who know me so minutely may well guess,
and why they do not pass my lips.  Sense, experience,
circumstances, can teach One to command one's self.  outwardly,
but do not divest a most friendly heart of its feelings.  I
believe the state of my Mind has contributed to bring on a very
weak and decaying body my present disorders.  I have not been
well the whole summer; but for these three weeks much otherwise.
It has at last ended in the gout, which to all appearance will be
a short fit.

On public affairs I cannot speak.  Every thing is so exaggerated
on all sides, that what grains of truth remain in the sieve would
appear cold and insipid; and the great manoeuvres you learn as
soon as I.  In the naval battle between Byron and D'Estaing, our
captains were worthy of any age in our story.

You may imagine how happy I am at Mrs. Damer's return, and at her
not being at Naples, as she was likely to have been, at the
dreadful explosion of Vesuvius.(367)  Surely it will have glutted
Sir William's rage for volcanoes! How poor Lady Hamilton's nerves
stood it I do not conceive.  Oh, mankind! mankind!  Are there not
calamities enough in store for us, but must destruction be our
amusement and pursuit?

I send this to Ditton,(368) where it may wait some days; but I
would not suffer a sure opportunity to slip without a line.  You
are more obliged to me for all I do not say, than for whatever
eloquence itself could pen.

P. S. I unseal my letter to add, that undoubtedly you will come
to the Meeting of Parliament, which will be in October.  Nothing
can or ever did make me advise you to take a step unworthy of
yourself.  But surely you have higher and more sacred duties than
the government of a mole-hill!

(367) On the 10th of August when the eruption was so great, that
several villages were destroyed; a hunting seat belonging to the
King of Naples, called Caccia Bella, shared the like fate.-E.

(368) Where Lord Hertford had then a
villa.



Letter 181 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Berkeley Square, Nov. 16, 1779. (page 235)

You ought not to accuse yourself only, when I have been as silent
as you.  Surely we have been friends too long to admit ceremony
as a go-between.  I have thought of writing to you several times,
but found I had nothing worth telling you.  I am rejoiced to hear
your health has been better: mine has been worse the whole summer
and autumn than ever it was without any positive distemper, and
thence I conclude it is a failure in my constitution-of which,
being a thing of course, we will say no more-nobody but a
physician is bound to hear what he cannot cure-and if we will pay
for what we cannot expect, it is our own fault.

I have seen Doctor Lort, who seems pleased with becoming a limb
of Canterbury.  I heartily wish the mitre may not devolve before
it has beamed substantially on him.  In the meantime he will be
delighted with ransacking the library at Lambeth; and, to do him
justice, his ardour is literary, not interested.

I am much obliged to you, dear Sir, for taking the trouble of
transcribing Mr. Tyson's Journal, which is entertaining.  But I
am so Ignorant as not to know where Hatfield Priory is.  The
three heads I remember on the gate at Whitehall; there were five
more.  The whole demolished structure was transported to the
great Park at Windsor, by the late Duke of Cumberland, who
intended to re-edify it, but never did; and now I suppose

Its ruins ruined, as its Place no more.

I did not know what was become of the heads, and am glad any are
preserved.  I should doubt their being the works of Torregiano.
Pray who is Mr. Nichols, who has published the Alien Priories;
there are half a dozen or more pretty views of French cathedrals.
I cannot say that I found any thing else in the book that amused
me-but as you deal more in ancient lore than I do, perhaps you
might be better pleased.

I am told there is a new History of Gloucestershire, very large,
but ill executed, by one Rudder(369)--still I have sent for it,
for Gloucestershire is a very historic country.

It was a wrong scent on which I employed you.  The arms I have
impaled were certainly not Boleyn's.  You lament removal of
friends -alas! dear Sir, when one lives to our age, one feels
that in a higher degree than from their change of place! but one
must not dilate those common moralities.  You see by my date I
have changed place myself.  I am got into an excellent,
comfortable, cheerful house; and as, from necessity and
inclination, I live much more at home than I used to do, it is
very agreeable to be so pleasantly lodged, and to be in a warm
inn as one passes through the last Vale.  Adieu! Yours ever.

(369) "The History and Antiquities of Gloucestershire; comprising
the Topography, Antiquities, Curiosities, Produce, Trade, and
Manufactures of that County:" by Samuel Rudder, printer,
Cirencester, folio.-E.



Letter 182 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Berkeley Square, Dec. 1779. (page 236)

I have two good reasons against writing: nothing to say and a
lame muffled hand; and therefore I choose to write to you, for it
shows remembrance.  For these six weeks almost I have been a
prisoner with the gout, but begin to creep about my room.  How
have you borne the late deluge and the present frost? How do you
like an earl-bishop?(370)  Had not we one before in ancient days?
I have not a book in town; but was not there Anthony Beck, or a
Hubert de Burgh, that was Bishop of Durham and Earl of Kent, or
have I confounded them?

Have you seen Rudder's new History of Gloucestershire? His
additions to Sir Robert Atkyns make it the most sensible history
of a county that we have had yet; for his descriptions of the
scite, soil, products, and prospects of each parish are extremely
good and picturesque; and he treats fanciful prejudices, and
Saxon etymologies, when unfounded, and traditions, with due
contempt.

I will not spin this note any further, but shall be glad of a
line to tell me you are well.  I have not seen Mr. Lort since he
roosted under the metropolitan Wings of his grace of Lambeth.
Yours ever.

(370) The Hon. and Rev, Frederick Hervey, bishop of Derry, had
just succeeded to the earldom of Bristol, as fifth Earl, by the
death of his brother. Hardy, in his memoirs of Lord Charlemont
gives the following account of this singular man:--"His family
was famous for talents, equally so for eccentricity; and the
eccentricity of the whole race shone out and seemed to be
concentrated in him.  In one respect he was not unlike Villiers
Duke of Buckingham, 'every thing by starts, and nothing long!'
Generous, but uncertain; splendid, but fantastical; an admirer of
the fine arts, without any just selection: engaging, often
licentious in conversation- extremely polite, extremely violent.
His distribution of church livings, chiefly, as I have been
informed, among the older and respectable clergy in his own
diocese, must always be mentioned with that warm approbation
which it is justly entitled to.  His progress from his diocese to
the metropolis, and his entrance into it, were perfectly
correspondent to the rest of his conduct.  Through every town on
the road, he seemed to court, and was received with, all warlike
honours; and I remember seeing him pass by the Parliament-house
in Dublin (Lords and Commons were then both sitting), escorted by
a body of dragoons, full of spirits and talk, apparently enjoying
the eager gaze of the surrounding multitude, and displaying
altogether the self-complacency of a favourite marshal of France
on his way to Versailles, rather than the grave deportment of a
prelate of the Church of England."  He died in 1803.-E.



Letter 183 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Berkeley Square, Jan. 5, 1780. (page 237)

When you said that you feared that your particular account of
your very providential escape would deter me from writing to you
again, I am sure, dear Sir, that you spoke only from modesty, and
not from thinking me capable of being so criminally indifferent
to any thing, much less under such danger as you have run, that
regards so old a friend, and one to whom I owe so many
obligations.  I am but too apt to write letters on trifling or no
occasion's: and should certainly have told you the interest I
take in your accident, and how happy I am that it had no
consequences of any sort.  It is hard that temperance itself,
which you are, should be punished for a good-natured
transgression of your own rules, and where the excess was only
staying out beyond your usual hour.  I am heartily glad you did
not jump out of your chaise; it has often been a much worse
precaution than any consequences from risking to remain in it; as
you are lame too, might have been very fatal.  Thank God! all
ended so well.  Mr. Masters seems to have been more frightened,
with not greater reason.  What an absurd man to be impatient to
notify a disagreeable event to you, and in so boisterous a
manner, and which he could not know was true, since it was not!

I shall take extremely kind your sending me your picture in
glass.  I have carefully preserved the slight outline of yourself
in a gown and nightcap, which you once was' so good as to give
me, because there was some likeness to your features.  though it
is too old even now.  For a portrait of me in return you might
have it by sending the painter to the anatomical school, and
bidding him draw the first skeleton he sees.  I should expect any
limner would laugh in my face if I offered it to him to be
copied.

I thought I had confounded the ancient count-bishops, as I had,
and YOU have set me right.  The new temporal-ecclesiastical peers
estate is more than twelve thousand a Year, though I can scarce
believe it is eighteen, as the last lord said.

The picture found near the altar in Westminster-Abbey, about
three years ago, was of King Sebert; I saw it, and it was well
preserved, with some others worse--but they have foolishly buried
it again behind their new altar-piece; and so they have a very
fine tomb of Ann of Cleve, close to the altar, which they did not
know till I told them whose it was, though her arms are upon it,
and though there is an exact plate of it in Sandford.  They might
at least have cut out the portraits, and removed them to a
conspicuous situation; but though this age is grown so
antiquarian, it has not gained a grain more of sense in that
walk--witness as you instance in Mr. Grose's Legends, and in the
dean and chapter reburying the crown, robes, and sceptre of
Edward I.--there would surely have been as much piety in
preserving them in their treasury, as in consigning them again to
decay.  I did not know that the salvation of robes and crowns
depended on receiving Christian burial.  At the same time, the
chapter transgress that prince's will, like all their
antecessors; for he ordered his tomb to be opened every year or
two years, and receive a new cerecloth or pall; but they boast
now of having enclosed him so substantially that his ashes cannot
be violated again.

It was the present Bishop Dean who showed me the pictures and
Ann's tomb, and consulted me on the new altar-piece.  I advised
him to have a light octangular canopy, like the cross at
Chichester, placed over the table or altar itself, which would
have given dignity to it, especially if elevated by a flight of
steps; and from the side arches of the octacon, I would have had
a semicircle of open arches that should have advanced quite to
the seats of the prebends, which would have discovered the
pictures; and through the octagon itself you would have perceived
the shrine of Edward the Confessor, which is much higher than the
level of the choir--but men who ask advice seldom follow it, if
you do not happen to light on the same ideas with themselves.

P. S. The Houghton pictures are not lost-but to Houghton and
England!(371)

(371) They had been sold to the Empress of Russia in the
preceding September, and immediately transferred to that
country.-E.



Letter 184 To Robert Jephson, Esq.(372)
Berkeley Square, January 25, 1780. (page 238)

It was but yesterday, Sir, that I received the favour of your
letter, and this morning I sent, according to your permission, to
Mr. Sheridan the elder, to desire the manuscript of your
tragedy;(373) for as I am but just recovering of a fit of the
gout, which I had severely for above two months, I was not able
to bear the fatigue of company at home; nor could I have had the
pleasure of attending to the piece so much as I wished to do, if
I had invited ladies to hear it, to whom I must have been doing
the honours.

I have read your play once, Sir, rapidly, though alone, and
therefore cannot be very particular on the details; but I can say
already, with great truth, that you have made a great deal more
than I thought possible out of the skeleton of a story.; and have
arranged it so artfully, that unless I am deceived by being too
familiar with it, it will be -very intelligible to the audience,
even if they have not read the original fable; and you have had
the address to make it coherent, without the marvellous, though
so much depended on that part.  In short, you have put my
extravagant materials in an alembic, and drawn off only what was
rational.

Your diction is very beautiful, often poetic, and yet what I
admire, very simple and natural; and when necessary, rapid,
concise, and sublime.

If I did not distrust my own self-love, I should say that I think
it must be a very interesting piece: and yet I might say so
without vanity, so much of the disposition of the scenes is your
own.  I do not yet know, Sir, what alterations you propose to
make; nor do I perceive where the second and fourth acts want
amendment.  The first in your manuscript is imperfect.  If I
wished for any correction, it would be to shorten the scene in
the fourth act between the Countess, Adelaide, and Austin, which
rather delays the impatience of the audience for the catastrophe,
and does not contribute to it, but by the mother's orders to the
daughter at the end of the scene to repair to the great church.
In the last scene I should wish to have Theordore fall into a
transport of rage and despair immediately on the death of
Adelaide, and be carried off by Austin's orders; for I doubt the
interval is too long for him to faint after Narbonne's speech.
The fainting, fit, I think, might be better applied to the
Countess; it does not seem requisite that she should die, but the
audience might be left in suspense about her.

My last observations will be very trifling indeed, Sir; but I
think you use nobleness, niceness, etc.  too often, which I doubt
are not classic terminations for nobility, nicety, etc.  though I
allow that nobility will not always express nobleness.  My
children's timeless deaths can scarce be said for untimely; nor
should I choose to employ children's as a plural genitive case,
which I think the s at the end cannot imply.  "Hearted
preference" is very bold for preference taken to heart.  Raymond,
in the last scene says--

"Show me thy wound--oh, hell! 'tis through her heart!"

This line is quite unnecessary, and infers an obedience in
displaying her wound which would be shocking; besides, as there
is often a buffoon in an audience at a new tragedy, it might be
received dangerously.  The word "Jehovah" will certainly not be
suffered on the stage.

In casting the parts I conclude Mrs. Yates, as women never cease
to like acting young parts, would prefer that of Adelaide, though
the Countess is more suitable to her age; and it is foolish to
see her representing the daughter of women fifteen or twenty
years younger.  As my bad health seldom allows of my going to the
theatre, I never saw Mr. Henderson but once.  His person and
style should recommend him to the parts of Raymond or Austin.
Smith, I suppose, would expect to be Theodore; but Lewis is
younger, handsomer, and, I think, a better actor; but you are in
the right, Sir, in having no favourable idea of our stage at
present.

I am sorry, Sir, that neither my talents nor health allow me to
offer to supply you with Prologue and Epilogue.  Poetry never was
my natural turn; and what little propensity I had to it, is
totally extinguished by age and pain.  It is honour enough to me
to have furnished the canons of your tragedy; I should disgrace
it by attempting to supply adventitious ornaments.  The
clumsiness of the seams would betray my gouty fingers.  I shall
take the liberty of reading your play once more before I return
it.  It will be extraordinary indeed if it is not accepted, but I
cannot doubt but it will be, and very successful; though it will
be great pity but you should have some zealous friend to attend
to it, and who is able to bustle, and see justice done to it by
the managers.  I lament that such a superannuated being as myself
is not only totally incapable Of that office, but that I am
utterly' unacquainted -with the managers, and now too retired to
form new Connexions.  I was still more concerned, Sir, to hear of
your unhappy accident, though the bad consequences are past.

(372) now first published.

(373) Mr. Jephson's tragedy of The Count of Narbonne, founded on
Walpole's Gothic story of the Castle of Otranto.  It will be
seen, that it was brought out, in the following year, With
considerable success, at Covent Garden theatre.  "On Friday
evening" says Hannah More, in a letter to one of her sisters, "I
went to Mr. Tighe's to hear him read Jephson's tragedy.
'Praise,' says Dr. Johnson, 'is a tribute which every man is
expected to pay for the grant of perusing a manuscript;' and
indeed I could praise without hurting my Conscience, for The
Count of Narbonne has considerable merit; the language is very
Poetical, and parts of the fable very interesting; the plot
managed with art, and the characters well drawn.  The love scenes
I think are the worst: they are prettily written, and full of
flowers, but are rather cold; they have more poetry than passion.
I do not mean to detract from Mr. Jephson's merit by this remark;
for it does not lessen a poet's fame to say he excels more in
Painting the terrible, than the tender passions."-Memoirs, vol.
i, P, 206.-E.



Letter 185 To Robert Jephson, Esq.(374)
Berkeley Square, Jan. 27, 1780. (page 240)

I have returned Your tragedy, Sir, to Mr. Sheridan, after having
read it again, and without wishing any more alterations than the
few I hinted before.  There may be some few incorrectnesses, but
none of much consequence.  I must -again applaud your art and
judgment, Sir, in having made so rational a play out of my wild
tale - and where you have changed the arrangement of the
incidents, you have applied them to great advantage The
Characters of the mother and daughter you have rendered more
natural by giving jealousy to the mother, and more passion to the
daughter.  In short, you have both honoured and improved my
outlines: my vanity is content, and truth enjoins me to do
justice.  Bishop Warburton, in his additional notes to Pope's
works, which I saw in print in his bookseller's hands, though
they have not yet been published, observed that the plan of The
Castle of Otranto was regularly a drama(375) (an intention I am
sure I do not pretend to have conceived; nor, indeed, can I
venture to affirm that I had any intention at all but to amuse
myself--no, not even a plan, till some pages were written).  You,
Sir, have realized his idea, and yet I believe the Bishop would
be surprised to see how well you have succeeded.  One cannot be
quite ashamed of one's follies, if genius condescends to adopt,
and put them to a sensible use.  Miss Aikin flattered me even by
stooping to tread in my eccentric steps.  Her " Fragment," though
but a specimen, showed her talent for imprinting terror.  I
cannot compliment the author of the " Old English Baron,"
professedly written in imitation, but as a corrective of The
Castle of Otranto.  It was totally void of imagination and
interest, had scarce 'any incidents, and, though it condemned the
marvellous, admitted a ghost.  I suppose the author thought a
tame ghost might come within the laws of probability.  You alone,
Sir, have kept within nature, and made superstition supply the
place of phenomenon, yet acting as the agent of divine justice--a
beautiful use of bigotry.

I was mistaken in thinking the end of the first act deficient.
The leaves stuck together, and, there intervening two or three
blank pages between the first and second acts, I examined no
farther, but concluded the former imperfect, which on the second
reading I found it was not.

I imagine, Sir, that the theatres of Dublin cannot have fewer
good Performers than those of London; may I ask why you prefer
ours?  Your own directions and instructions would be of great
advantage to your play; especially if you suspect antitragic
prejudices in the managers.  You, too, would be the best judge of
the rehearsal of what might be improvements.  Managers will take
liberties, and often curtail necessary speeches, so as to produce
nonsense.  Methinks it is unkind to send a child, of which you
have so much reason to be proud, to a Foundling Hospital.

(374) NOW first printed.


(375) Bishop Warburton's panegyric on the Castle of Otranto
appears in a note to the following lines in Pope's imitation of
one of Horace's epistles:--

"Then peers grew proud in horsemanship t'excel,
Newmarket's glory rose as Britain's fell'
The soldier breathed the gallantries of France,
And ev'ry flow'ry courtier Writ Romance."

"Amidst all this nonsense," says the Bishop, "when things were at
the worst, we have been lately entertained with what I will
venture to call, a masterpiece in the Fable; and of a new species
likewise.  The piece I mean is, The Castle of Otranto.  The scene
is laid in Gothic chivalry; where a beautiful imagination,
supported by strength of judgment, has enabled the author to go
beyond his Subject, and effect the full purpose of the ancient
tragedy; that is, to purge the passions by Pity and terror, in
colouring as great and harmonious as in any of the best dramatic
writers."-E.



Letter 186 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Berkeley Square, Feb. 5, 1780. (PAGE 242)

I have been turning over the new second volume of the Biographia,
and find the additions very poor and lean performances.  The
lives entirely new are partial and flattering, being
contributions of the friends of those whose lives are recorded.
This publication made at a time when I have lived to see several
of my contemporaries deposited in this national temple of fame
has made me smile, and reflect that many preceding authors, who
have been installed there with much respect, may have been as
trifling personages as those we have l(nown and now behold
consecrated to memory.  Three or four have struck me
particularly, as Dr. Birch,(376) who was a worthy, good-natured
soul, full of industry and activity, and running about like a
young setting-dog in quest of any thing, new or old, and with no
parts, taste, or judgment.  Then there is Dr. Blackwell,(377) the
most impertinent literary coxcomb upon earth--but the editor has
been so just as to insert a very merited satire on his Court of
Augustus.

The third is Dr. Brown, that mountebank, who for a little time
made as much noise by his Estimate, as ever quack did by a
nostrum.  I do not know if I ever told you how much I was struck
the only time I ever saw him.  You know one object, and the
anathemas of his Estimate was the Italian Opera; yet did I find
him one evening, in Passion Week, accompanying some of the
Italian singers, at a concert at Lady Carlisle's.  A clergyman,
no doubt, is not obliged to be on his knees the whole week before
Easter, and music and a concert are harmless amusements; but when
Cato or Calvin are out of character, reformation becomes
ridiculous--but poor Dr. Brown was mad,(378) and therefore might
be in earnest, whether he played the fool or the reformer.

You recollect, perhaps, the threat of Dr. Kippis to me, which is
to be executed on my father, for my calling the first edition of
the Biographia the Vindicatio Britannica--but observe how truth
emerges at last!  In his new volume he confesses that the article
of Lord Arlington, which I had specified as one of the most
censurable, is the one most deserving that censure, and that the
character of Lord Arlington is palliated beyond all truth and
reason"-words stronger than mine--yet mine deserved to draw
vengeance on my father!  so a Presbyterian divine inverts divine
judgment, and visits the sins of the children on the parents!

Cardinal Beaton's character, softened in the first edition,
gentle Dr. Kippis pronounces "extremely detestable"--yet was I to
blame for hinting such defects in that work!--and yet my words
are quoted to show that Lord Orrery's poetry was ridiculously
bad.  In like manner Mr. Cumberland, who assumes the whole honour
of publishing his grandfather's Lucan, and does not deign to
mention its being published at Strawberry Hill, (though by the
way I believe it will be oftener purchased for having been
printed there, than for wearing Mr. Cumberland's name to the
dedication,) and yet he quotes me for having praised his ancestor
in one of my publications.  These little instances of pride and
spleen divert me, and then make me reflect sadly on human
weaknesses.  I am very apt myself to like what flatters my
opinions or passions, and to reject scornfully what thwarts them,
even in the same persons.  The more one lives, the more one
discovers one's uglinesses in the features of others! Adieu! dear
Sir; I hope you do not suffer by this severe season.

P. S. I remember two other instances, where my impartiality, or
at least sincerity, have exposed me to double censure.  You
perhaps condemned my severity on Charles the First; yet the late
Mr. Hollis wrote against me in the newspapers, for condemning the
republicans for their destruction of ancient monuments.  Some
blamed me for undervaluing the Flemish and Dutch pictures in my
preface to the Aedes Walpolianae.  Barry the painter, because I
laughed at his extravagances, says, in his rejection of that
school, "But I leave them to be admired by the Hon.  Horace
Walpole, and such judges."
Would not one think I had been their champion!

(376) See vol. i. p. 434, letter 177.-E.

(377) Dr. Thomas Blackwell, principal of the Marischal College in
Aberdeen.  Besides the above work, he wrote "An Enquiry into the
Life and Writings of Homer," and "Letters concerning Mythology."
He died in 1757.

(378) In September, 1766, he destroyed himself in a fit of
insanity.  See vol. ii. p. 232, letter 119, note 234.-E.



Letter 187 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Berkeley Square, Feb. 27, 1780. (PAGE 243)

Unapt as you are to inquire after news, dear Sir, you wish to
have Admiral Rodney's victory confirmed.(379)  I can now assure
you, that he has had a considerable advantage, and took at least
four Spanish men-of-war, and an admiral, who they say is since
dead of his wounds.  We must be glad of these deplorable
successes--but I heartily wish we had no longer occasion to hope
for the destruction of any of our species but, alas! it looks as
if devastation would still open new fields of blood!  The
prospect darkens even at home--but, however you and I may differ
in our political principles, it would be happy.  if every body
would pursue others with as little rancour.  How seldom does it
happen in political contests, that any side can count any thing
but its wounds!  your habitudes seclude you from meddling in our
divisions; so do my age and my illnesses me.  Sixty-two is not a
season for bustling among young partisans.  Indeed, if the times
grow perfectly serious, I shall not wish to reach sixty-three.
Even a superannuated spectator is then a miserable being; for
though insensibility is one of the softenings of old age, neither
one's feelings nor enjoyments can be accompanied with
tranquillity.  We veterans must hide ourselves in inglorious
security, and lament what we cannot prevent; nor shall be
listened to, till misfortunes have brought the actors to their
senses; and then it will be too late, or they will calm
themselves faster than they could preach--but I hope the
experience of the last century will have some operation and check
our animosities.  Surely, too, we shall recollect the ruin a
civil war would bring on, when accompanied by such collaterals as
French and Spanish wars.  Providence alone can steer us amidst
all these rocks.  I shall watch the interposition of its aegis
with anxiety and humility.  It saved us this last summer, and
nothing else I am sure did; but often the mutual follies of
enemies are the instruments Of Heaven.  If it pleases not to
inspire wisdom, I shall be content if it extricates us by the
reciprocal blunders and oversights of all parties--of which, at
least, we ought never to despair.  It is almost my systematic
belief, that as cunning and penetration are seldom exerted for
good ends, it is the absurdity of mankind that often acts as a
succedaneum, and carries on and maintains the equilibrium that
Heaven designed should subsist.  Adieu, dear Sir! Shall we live
to lay down our heads in peace?  Yours ever.

28th.--A second volume of Sir George Rodney's exploits arrived
to-day.  I do not know the authentic circumstances, for I have
not been abroad yet, but they say he has taken four more Spanish
ships of the line and five frigates; of the former, one of ninety
guns.  Spain was sick of the war before--how fortunate if she
would renounce it!

I have just got a new History of Leicester, in six small volumes.
It seems to be superficial; but the author is young, and talks
modestly which, if it Will not serve instead of merit, makes one
at least hope he will improve, and not grow insolent on age and
more knowledge.  I have   also received from Paris a copy of an
illumination from La Cit`e des Dames of Christina of Pisa, in the
French King's library.   There is her own portrait with three
allegoric figures.   I have learnt much more about her, and of
her amour with an English peer;(380) but I have not time to say
more at present.

(379) Admiral Sir George Rodney, who had been despatched to the
relief of Gibraltar, the garrison of which was much distressed
for provisions, after taking a convoy of Spanish ships bound to
the Caraccas, fell in, on the 16th of February off Cape St.
Vincent, with                       the Spanish fleet, commanded
by Don Juan Langara, which he defeated, and captured
        four sail of the line.-E.

(380) John Montacute, Earl of Salisbury; who arriving in Paris,
as ambassador from Richard II. to demand in marriage the Princess
Isabel, daughter of Charles V., soon after the death of Castel,
the husband of Christine, was so struck with her beauty and
accomplishments as to offer her his hand.   This Christine
respectfully declined; upon which the Earl bade adieu to love,
renounced marriage, and, with her consent, brought her eldest son
with him to England, to educate and protect.-E.



Letter 188 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.

Berkeley Square, March 6, 1780. (PAGE 245)

I have this moment received your portrait in glass, dear Sir, and
am impatient to thank you for it, and tell you how much I value
it.  It is better executed than I own I expected, and yet I am
not quite satisfied with it.  The drawing is a little incorrect,
the eyes too small in proportion, and the mouth exaggerated.  In
short, it is a strong likeness of your features, but not of your
countenance, which is better, and more serene.  However, I am
enough content to place it at Strawberry amongst all my
favourite, brittle, transitory relics, which will soon vanish
with their founder--and with his no great unwillingness for
himself.

I take it ill, that you should think I should suspect you of
asking indirectly for my Noble Authors-and much more if you would
not be so free as to ask for them directly-a most trifling
present surely--and from you who have made me a thousand! I know
I have some copies in my old house in Arlington-street, I hope of
both volumes, I am sure of the second.  I will soon go thither
and look for them.

I have gone through the six volumes of Leicester.  The author is
so modest and so humble, that I am quite sorry it is so very bad
a work; the arrangement detestable, the materials trifling, his
reflections humane but silly.  He disposes all under reigns of
Roman emperors and English kings, whether they did any thing or
nothing at Leicester.  I am sorry I have such predilection for
the histories of particular counties and towns: there certainly
does not exist a worse class of reading.

Dr. E. made me a visit last week.  He is not at all less
vociferous for his disgrace.  I wish I had any Guinea-fowls.  I
can easily get you some eggs from Lady Ailesbury, and will ask
her for some, that you may have the pleasure of rearing your own
chicks--but how can you bear their noise? they are more
discordant and clamorous than peacocks.  How shall I convey the
eggs?

I smiled at Dr. Kippis's bestowing the victory on Dean Milles,
and a sprig on Mr. Masters.  I regard it as I should, if the
sexton of Broad Street St. Giles's were to make a lower bow to a
cheese-monger of his own parish than to me.  They are all three
haberdashers of small wares, and welcome to each other's
civilities.  When such men are summoned to a jury on one of their
own trade, it is natural they should be partial.  They do not
reason, but recollect how much themselves have overcharged some
yards of buckram.  Adieu!

P. S. Mr. Pennicott has shown me a most curious and delightful
picture.  It is Rose, the royal gardener, presenting the first
pine-apple ever raised in England to Charles II.  They are In a
garden, with a view of a good private house, such as there are
several at Sunbury and about london.  It is by far the best
likeness of the King I ever saw; the countenance cheerful,
good-humoured, and very sensible.  He is in brown, lined with
orange, and many black ribands, a large flapped hat, dark wig,
not tied up, nor yet bushy, a point cravat, no waistcoat, and a
tasselled handkerchief, hanging from a low pocket.  The whole is
of the smaller landscape size, and extremely well coloured, with
perfect harmony.  \It was a legacy from London, grandson of him
who was partner with Wise.



Letter 189 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Strawberry Hill, March 13, 1780.(PAGE 246)

You compliment me, my good friend, on a sagacity that is surely
very common.  How frequently do we see portraits that have
catched the features and missed the countenance or character,
which is far more difficult to hit; nor is it unfrequent to hear
that remark made.

I have confessed to you that I am fond of local histories.  It is
the general execution of them that I condemn, and that I call
"the worst kind of reading." I cannot comprehend but that they
might be performed with taste.  I did mention this winter the new
edition of Atkyns's Gloucestershire, as having additional
descriptions of situations that I thought had merit.  I have just
got another, a View of Northumberland, in two volumes, quarto,
with cuts;(381) but I do not devour it fast; for the author's
predilection is to Roman antiquities, which, such as are found in
this island, are very indifferent, and inspire me with little
curiosity.  A barbarous country, so remote from the seat of
empire, and occupied by a few legions that very rarely decided
any great events, is not very interesting, though one's own
country; nor do I care a straw for a stone that preserves the
name of a standard-bearer of a cohort, or of a colonel's
daughter.  Then I have no patience to read the tiresome disputes
of antiquaries to settle forgotten names of vanished towns, and
to prove that such a village was called something else in
Antoninus's Itinerary.  I do not say the Gothic antiquities I
like are of more importance; but at least they exist.  The site
of a Roman camp, of which nothing remains but a bank, gives me
not the smallest pleasure.  One knows they had square camps-has
one a clearer idea from the spot, which is barely
distinguishable?  How often does it happen, that the lumps of
earth are so imperfect, that it is never clear whether they are
Roman, Druidic, Danish, or Saxon fragments: the moment it is
uncertain, it is plain they furnish no specific idea of art or
history, and then I neither desire to see or read them.  I have
been diverted, too, by another work, in which I am personally a
little concerned.  Yesterday was published an octavo, pretending
to contain the correspondence of Hackman and Miss Ray, that he
murdered.(382)  I doubt whether the letters are genuine; and yet,
if fictitious, they are executed well, and enter into his
character: hers appears less natural, and yet the editors were
certainly more likely to be in the possession of hers than his.
It is not probable that Lord Sandwich should have sent what he
found in her apartments to the press.  No account is pretended to
be given of how they came to light.

You will wonder how I should be concerned in this correspondence,
who never saw either of the lovers in my days.  In fact, my being
dragged in is a reason for doubting the authenticity; nor can I
believe that the long letter in which I am frequently mentioned
could be written by the wretched lunatic.  It pretends that Miss
Ray desired him to give her a particular account of Chatterton.
He does give a most ample one; but is there a glimpse of
probability that a being so frantic should have gone to Bristol,
and sifted Chatterton's sister and others with as much cool
curiosity as Mr. Lort could do? and at such a moment! Besides, he
murdered Miss Ray, I think, in March; my printed defence was not
at all dispersed before the preceding January or February, nor do
I conceive that Hackman could even see it.  There are notes,
indeed, by the editor, who has certainly seen it; but I rather
imagine that the editor, whoever he is, composed the whole
volume.  I am acquitted of' being accessory to the man's death,
which is gracious; but much blamed for speaking of his bad
character, and for being too hard on his forgeries, though I took
so much pains to Specify the innocence of them; and for his
character, I only quoted the words of his own editor and
panegyrist.  I did not repeat what Dr. Goldsmith told me at the
Royal Academy, where I first heard of his death, that he went by
the appellation of the "Young Villain;" but it is not new to me,
as you know, to be blamed by two opposite parties.  The editor
has in one place confounded me and my uncle; who, he says, as is
true, checked Lord Chatham for being too forward a young man in
1740.  In that year I was not even come into Parliament; and must
have been absurd indeed if I had taunted Lord Chatham with youth,
who was, at least, six or seven years younger than he was; and
how could he reply by reproaching me with old age, who was then
not twenty-three? I shall make no answer to these absurdities,
nor to any part of the work.  Blunder, I see, people will, and
talk of what they do not understand @ and what care I?  There is
another trifling mistake of still less consequence.  The editor
supposes it was Macpherson who communicated Ossian to me.  It was
Sir David Dalrymple who sent me the first specimen.(383)
Macpherson did once come to me, but my credulity was then a
little shaken.

Lady Ailesbury has promised me Guinea-eggs for you, but they have
not yet begun to lay I am well acquainted with Lady Craven's
little tale, dedicated to me.(384)  It is careless and incorrect,
but there are very pretty things in it.  I will stop, for I fear
I have written to you too much lately.  One you did not mention:
I think it was of the 28th of last month.

(381) "A View of Northumberland; with an Excursion to the Abbey
of Melrose, Scotland, in the year 1776;" by William Hutchinson,
F. A. S. Two volumes 4to.; 1778-80.-E.

(382) the work here alluded to was written by Sir Herbert Croft,
Bart.  It was a compound of fact and fiction called "Love and
Madness, a Story too true, in a Series of Letters between
Parties, whose names would, perhaps, be mentioned, were they less
known or less lamented. London, 1780."  The work ran through
several editions.  In 1800, Sir Herbert published, "Chatterton
and Love and Madness, in a Letter from Sir Herbert Croft to Mr.
Nichols."  Boswell says, that Dr. Johnson greatly disapproved of
mingling real facts with fiction, and on this account censured
"Love and Madness."-E.


(383) See vol. iii. p. 63, letter 25, note 64.-E.

(384) Entitled "The Miniature Picture."-E.



Letter 190 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Berkeley Square, March 30, 1780. (page 248)

I cannot be told that you are extremely ill, and refrain from
begging to hear that you are better.  Let me have but one line;
if it is good, 'it will satisfy me.  If you was not out of order,
I would scold you for again making excuses about the Noble
Authors; it was not kind to be so formal about a trifle.

We do not differ so much in politics as you think, for when they
grow too serious, they are so far from inflaming my zeal, they
make me more moderate: and I can as easily discern the faults on
my own side as on the other; nor would assist Whigs more than
Tories in altering the constitution.  The project of annual
parliaments, or of adding a hundred members to the House of
Commons would, I think, be very unwise, and will never have my
approbation--but a temperate man is not likely to be listened to
in turbulent times; and when one has not youth and lungs, or
ambition, to make oneself attended to, one can only be silent and
lament, and preserve oneself blameless of any mischief that is
done or attempted.



Letter 191 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Berkeley Square, May 11, 1780. (page 248)

Mr. Godfrey, the engraver, told me yesterday that Mr. Tyson is
dead.(385)  I am sorry for it, though he had left me off.  A much
older friend of mine died yesterday; but of whom I must say the
same, George Montagu, whom you must remember at Eton and
Cambridge.  I should have been exceedingly concerned for him a
few years ago but he had dropped me, partly from politics and
partly from caprice, for we never had any quarrel; but he was
grown an excessive humourist, and had shed almost all his friends
as well as me.  He had parts, and infinite vivacity and
originality till of late years; and it grieved me much that he
had changed towards me, after a friendship of between thirty and
forty years.

I am told that a nephew of the provost of King's has preached and
printed a most flaming sermon, which condemns the whole
Opposition to the stake.  Pray who is it, and on what occasion?
Mr. Bryant has published an Answer to Dr. Priestley.(386)  I
bought it, but though I have a great value for the author, the
subject is so metaphysical, and so above human decision, I soon
laid it aside.  I hope you can send me a good account of
yourself, though the spring is so unfavourable.  Yours most
sincerely.

(385) Mr. Cole, in a letter of the 14th, says, "the loss of poor
Mr. Tyson shocked and afflicted me more than I thought it
possible I could have been afflicted: since the loss of Mr. Gray,
I have lamented no one so much.  God rest his soul!  I hope he is
happy; and, was it not for those he has left behind, I am so much
of a philosopher, now the affair is over, I would prefer the
exchange."-E.

(386) It was entitled "An Address to Dr. Priestley upon his
Doctrine of Philosophical Necessity Illustrated."-E.



@Letter 192 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Friday night, May 19, 1780. (page 249)

By tomorrow's coach you will receive a box of Guinea-hens' eggs,
which Lady Ailesbury sent me to-day from Park-place.  I hope they
will arrive safe and all be hatched.

I thank you for the account of the sermon and the portrait of the
uncle.  They will satisfy me without buying the former.  As I
knew Mr. Joseph Spence,(387) I do not think I should have been so
much delighted as Dr. Kippis with reading his letters.  He was a
good-natured, harmless little soul, but more like a silver penny
than a genius.  It was a neat, fiddle-faddle, bit of sterling,
that had read good books and kept good company, but was too
trifling for use, and only fit to please a child.

I hesitate on purchasing Mr. Gough's second edition.  I do not
think there was a guinea's worth of entertainment in the first;
how can the additions be worth a guinea and a half?  I have been
aware of the royal author you tell me of, and have noted him for
a future edition; but that will not appear in my own time;
because, besides that, it will have the castrations in my
original copy, and other editions, that I am not impatient to
produce.  I have been solicited to reprint the work, but do not
think it fair to give a very imperfect edition when I could print
it complete, which I do not choose to do, as I have an aversion
to literary squabbles: one seems to think one's self too
important when one engages in a controversy on one's writings;
and when one does not vindicate them, the answerer passes for
victor, as you see Dr. Kippis allots the palm to Dr. Milles,
though you know I have so much more to say in defence of my
hypothesis.  I have actually some hopes of still more, of which I
have heard, but till I see it, I shall not reckon upon it as on
my side.

Mr. lort told me of King James's Procession to St. Paul's; but
they ask such a price for it, and I care so little for James I.,
that I have not been to look at the picture.

Your electioneering will probably be increased immediately.  Old
Mr. Thomas Townshend is at the point of death.(388)  The
Parliament will probably be dissolved before another session.  We
wanted nothing but drink to inflame our madness, which I do not
confine to politics; but what signifies it to throw out general
censures?  We old folks are apt to think nobody wise but
ourselves.  I wish the disgraces of these last two or three years
did not justify a little severity more than flows from the
peevishness of years!  Yours ever.

(387) See Vol. I. p, 168, letter 29.-E.

(388) The Right Hon.  Thomas Townshend, son of Charles second
Viscount Townshend, many years member for the University of
Cambridge.  He died a few days after the date of this letter. He
was a most elegant scholar, and lived in acquaintance and
familiarity with most of the considerable men of his time.  In
early life he entered into the secretary of state's office under
his father, whom he accompanied in his journeys to Germany with
George the First and Second.  At the time of his death he was in
his seventy-ninth year.-E.



Letter 193 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Berkeley Square, May 30, 1780. (page 250)

I hope you will bring your eggs to a fair market.  At last I have
got from Bonus my altar-doors which I bought at Mr. Ives's; he
has repaired them admirably.  I would not suffer him to repaint
or varnish them.  There are indubitably Duke Humphrey of
Gloucester, Cardinal Beaufort, and Archbishop Kemp.  The fourth I
cannot make out.  It is a man in a crimson garment lined with
white, and not tonsured.  He is in the stable with cattle, and
has the air of Joseph; but over his head hangs a large shield
with these arms.  * * *(389)  The Cornish choughs are sable on
or; the other three divisions are gules, on the first of which is
a gold crescent.

The second arms have three bulls' heads sable, horned or.  The
chevron was so changed that Bonus thought it sable; but I think
it was gules, and then it would be Bullen or Boleyn.  Lord de
Ferrars says, that the first are the arms of Sir Bartholomew
Tate, who he finds married a Sanders.  Edmondson's new Dictionary
of Heraldry confirms both arms for Tate and Sanders, except that
Sanders bore the chevron erminc, which it may have been.  But
what I wish to discover IS, whether Sir Bartholomew Tate was a
benefactor to St. Edmundsbury, whence these doors came, or was in
any shape a retainer to the Duke of Gloucester or Cardinal
Beaufort.  The Duke's and Sir Bartholomew's figures were on the
insides of the doors (which I have had sawed into four panels,)
and are painted in a far superior style to the Cardinal and the
Archbishop, which are very hard and dry.  The two others are so
good that they are in the style of the school of the Caracci.
They at least were painted by some Italian; the draperies have
large and bold folds, and One wonders how they could be executed
in the reign of Henry VI.  I shall be very glad if you can help
me to any lights, at least about Sir Bartholomew.  I intend to
place them in my chapel, as they will aptly accompany the shrine.
The Duke and Archbishop's agree perfectly with their portraits in
my Marriage of Henry VI., and prove how rightly I guessed.  The
Cardinal's is rather a longer and thinner visage, but that he
might have in the latter end of life; and in the Marriage he has
the red bonnet on, which shortens his face.  On the door he is
represented in the character he ought to have possessed, a pious,
contrite look, not the truer resemblance which Shakspeare drew--
"He dies, and makes no sign!"--but Annibal Caracci himself could
not paint like our Raphael poet!  Pray don't venture yourself in
any more electioneering riots: you see the mob do not respect
poets, nor, I suppose, antiquaries.

P. S. I am in no haste for an answer to my queries.

(389) Here Mr. Walpole had sketched in a rough draught of the
arms.



Letter 194 To Mrs. Abington.(390)
Strawberry Hill, June 11, 1780. (page 251)

Madam,
You may certainly always command me and my house.  My common
custom is to give a ticket for only four persons at a time but it
would be very insolent in me, when all laws are set at nought, to
pretend to prescribe rules.  At such times there is a shadow of
authority in setting the laws aside by the legislature itself;
and though I have no army to supply their place, I declare Mrs.
Abington may march through all my dominions at the head of as
large a troop as she pleases.  I do not say, as she can muster
and command; for then I am sure my house would not hold them.
The day, too, is at her own choice; and the master is her very
obedient humble servant.

(390) Now first printed.



Letter 195 To The Earl Of Strafford.
Strawberry Hill, June 12, 1780. (page 251)

My dear lord,
If the late events had been within the common proportion of news,
I would have tried to entertain your lordship with an account of
them; but they were far beyond that size, and could only create
horror and indignation.  Religion has often been the cloak of
injustice, outrage, and villany: in our late tumults,(391) it
scarce kept on its mask a moment; its persecution was downright
robbery; and it was so drunk that it killed its banditti faster
than they could plunder.  The tumults have been carried on in so
violent and scandalous a manner, that I trust they will have no
copies.  When prisons are levelled to the ground, when the Bank
is aimed at, and reformation is attempted by conflagrations, the
savages of Canada are the only fit allies of Lord George
Gordon(392) and his crew.  The Tower is much too dignified a
prison for him-but he had left no other.

I came out of town on Friday, having seen a good deal of the
shocking transactions of Wednesday night--in fact, it was
difficult to be in London, and not to see or think some part of
it in flames.  I saw those of the King's Bench, New Prison, and
those on the three sides of the Fleet-market, which turned into
one blaze.(393)  The town and parks are now one camp--the next
disagreeable sight to the capital being in ashes.  It will still
not have been a fatal tragedy, if it brings the nation one and
all to their senses.  It will still be not quite an unhappy
country, if we reflect that the old constitution, exactly as it
was in the last reign, was the most desirable of any in the
universe.  It made us then the first people in Europe--we have a
vast deal of ground to recover--but can we take a better path
than that which King William pointed out to us?  I mean the
system he left us at the Revolution.  I am averse to all changes
of it--it fitted us just as it was.

For some time even individuals must be upon their guard.  Our new
and now imprisoned apostle has delivered so many Saint Peters
from gaol, that one hears of nothing but robberies on the
highway.  Your lordship's sister, Lady Browne, and I have been at
Twickenham-park this evening, and kept together, and had a
horseman at our return.  Baron d'Aguilar was shot at in that very
lane on Thursday night.  A troop of the fugitives had
rendezvoused in Combe Wood, and were dislodged thence yesterday
by the light horse.

I do not know a syllable but what relates to these disturbances.
The newspapers have neglected few truths.  Lies, without their
natural propensity to falsehoods, they could not avoid, for every
minute produces some, at least exaggerations.  We were threatened
with swarms of good Protestants `a br`uler from all quarters, and
report
sent various detachments on similar errands; but thank God they
have been but reports! Oh! when shall we have peace and
tranquility?  I hope your lordship and Lady Strafford will at
least enjoy the latter in your charming woods.  I have long
doubted which of our passions is the strongest--perhaps every one
of them is equally strong in some person or other-but I have no
doubt but ambition is the most detestable, and the most
inexcusable; for its mischiefs are by far the most extensive, and
its enjoyments by no means proportioned to its anxieties.  The
latter, I believe, is the case of most passions--but then all but
ambition cost little pain to any but the possessor.  An ambitious
man must be divested of all feeling but for himself.  The torment
of others is his high-road to happiness.  Were the transmigration
of souls true, and accompanied by consciousness, how delighted
would Alexander or Croesus be to find themselves on four legs,
and divested of a wish to conquer new worlds, or to heap up all
the wealth of this!  Adieu, my dear lord!

(391) The riots of 1780, when Lord George Gordon raised a
no-popery cry, and assembled many thousand persons in St.
George's Fields, to accompany him to the House of Commons, with a
petition for the repeal of the act passed for the relief of the
Roman Catholics in the preceding session.  The petition was, of
course, rejected; which being communicated to the mob by Lord
George, they dispersed for a while, but on that evening commenced
their work of mischief, destroying two Catholic chapels in
Duke-street and Warwick-street: Newgate and all the other prisons
were likewise fired; the Bank was attempted; and the riot was not
quelled until 210 persons were killed and 248 wounded, of whom
seventy-five died in the hospitals.  Lord George was committed to
the Tower; and many of the ringleaders, after being tried by
special commissioners, suffered the extreme penalty of the
law.-E.

(392) Lord George Gordon was brother of Alexander Duke of Gordon.
He was considered not to be at all times of sound mind.  Some
years after his acquittal, on the indictment preferred against
him in the Court of King's Bench as instigator of the riots, he
was convicted of a libel on Marie Antoinette and Count d'Ademar,
one of the French ministry.  To avoid punishment, he fled the
country; but shortly afterwards was discovered at Birmingham in
the garb of a Jew, and committed to Newgate, pursuant to his
sentence, where he lived some time, professing the Jewish
religion, having undergone the extreme rites of it, and where he
died, in November 1793.-E.

(393) In her reply to a letter from Walpole, giving an account of
these riots, Madame du Deffand says--"Rien n'est plus affreux que
tout ce qui arrive chez vous.  Votre libert`e ne me s`eduit
point; cette libert`e tant vant`ee me paroit bien plus on`ereuse
que notre esclavage; mais il ne m'appartient pas de traitor de
telles mati`eres: permettez-moi de bl`amer votre indiscr`etion,
de vous aller promener dans les rues pendant ce vacarme."-E.



Letter 196 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Strawberry Hill, June 15, 1780. (page 253)

You may like to know one is alive, dear Sir, after a massacre,
and the conflagration of a capital.  I was in it, both on the
Friday and on the Black Wednesday; the most horrible sight I ever
beheld, and which, for six hours together, I expected to end in
half the town being reduced to ashes.  I can give you little
account of the original of this shocking affair; negligence was
certainly its nurse, and religion only its godmother.  The
ostensible author is in the Tower.  Twelve or fourteen thousand
men have quelled all tumults; and as no bad account is come from
the country, except for a moment at Bath, and as eight days have
passed,--nay, more, since the commencement, I flatter myself the
whole nation is shocked at the scene; and that, if plan there
was, it was laid only in and for the metropolis.  The lowest and
most villanous of the people, and to no great amount, were almost
the sole actors.

/I hope your electioneering riotry(394) has not, nor will mix in
these tumults.  It would be most absurd; for Lord Rockingham, the
Duke of Richmond, Sir George Saville, and Mr. Burke, the patrons
of toleration, were devoted to destruction as much as the
ministers.  The rails torn from Sir George's house were the chief
weapons and instruments of the mob.  For the honour of the nation
I should be glad to have it proved that the French were the
engineers.  You and I have lived too long for our comfort--shall
we close our eyes in peace?  I will not trouble you more about
the arms I sent you: I should like that they were those of the
family of Boleyn; and since I cannot be sure they were not, why
should not I fancy them so?  I revert to the prayer for peace.
You and I, that can amuse ourselves with our books and papers,
feel as much indignation at the turbulent as they have scorn for
us.  It is hard at least that they who disturb nobody can have no
asylum in which to pursue their innoxious indolence Who is secure
against Jack Straw and a whirlwind?  How I abominate Mr. Banks
and Dr. Solander, who routed the poor Otaheitans out of the
centre of the ocean, and carried our abominable passions amongst
them!  not even that poor little specie could escape European
restlessness.  Well, I have seen many tempestuous scenes, and
outlived them! the present prospect is too thick to see through-
-it is well hope never forsakes us.  Adieu!

(394) Of the "electioneering riotry" going on at this time in
Cambridgeshire, Mr. Cole, in a letter of the 14th of May, gives
the following account:--"Electioneering madness and faction have
inflamed this country to such a degree, that the peace it has
enjoyed for above half a century may take as long a time before
it returns again.  Yesterday, the three candidates were
nominated; the Duke of Rutland's brother, the late Mr. Charles
Yorke's son, and Sir Sampson Gideon, whose expenses for this
month have been enormous, beyond all belief.  Sending my servant
on a particular message to Sir Sampson, he found him in bed, not
well, and probably half asleep; for he not only wrote the
direction to two covers which I sent him, but sealed them both,
though they were only covers.  I wonder, indeed, that he is
alive, considering the immense fatigue and necessary drinking he
must undergo--a miserable hard task to get into Parliament!" The
contest terminated in the return of Lord Robert Manners, who
died, in April 1782, of the wounds he received in the great
sea-fight in the West Indies; and of Mr. Philip Yorke, who, in
1790, succeeded his uncle as Earl of Hardwicke.-E.



Letter 197 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Strawberry Hill, July 4, 1780. (page 254)

I answer your letter the moment I receive it, to beg you will by
no means take any notice, not even in directly and without My
name, of the Life of Mr. Baker.  I am earnest against its being
known to exist.  I should be teased to show it.  Mr. Gough might
inquire about it--I do not desire his acquaintance; and above all
am determined, if I can help it, to have no controversy while I
live.  You know I have hitherto suppressed my answers to the
critics of Richard III. for that reason; and above all things, I
hate theologic or political controversy-nor need you fear my
disputing with you, though we disagree very considerably indeed
about Papist's and Presbyterians.  I hope you have not yet sent
the manuscript to Mr. Lort, and if you have not, do entreat you
to deface undecipherably what you have said about my Life of Mr.
Baker.

Pray satisfy me that no mention of it shall appear in print.  I
can by no means consent to it, and I am sure you will prevent it.
Yours sincerely.



Letter 198 To The Earl Of Strafford.
Strawberry Hill, Sept. 9, 1780. (page 255)

I am very happy at receiving a letter from your lordship this
moment, as I thought it very long since we had corresponded, but
am afraid of being troublesome, when I have not the excuse of
thanking you, or something worth telling you, which in truth is
not the case at present.  No soul, whether interested or not, but
deafens one about elections.  I always detested them, even when
in Parliament; and when I lived a good deal at White's, preferred
hearing of Newmarket to elections; for the former, being uttered
in a language I did not understand, did not engage my attention;
but as they talked of elections in English, I could not help
knowing what they said.  It does surprise me, I own, that people
can choose to stuff their heads with details and circumstances.
of which in six weeks they will never hear or think more.  The
weather till now has been the chief topic of conversation.  Of
late it has been the third very hot summer; but refreshed by so
little rain, that the banks of the Thames have been and are, I
believe, like those of the Manzanares.  The night before last we
had some good showers, and to-day a thick fog has dissolved in
some as thin as gauze.  Still I am not quite sorry to enjoy the
weather of adust climates without their tempests and insects.
Lady Cowper I lately visited, and but lately: if what I hear is
true, I shall be a gainer, for they talk of Lord Duncannon having
her house at Richmond: like your lordship, I confess I was
surprised at his choice.  I know nothing to the prejudice of the
young lady;(395) but I should not have selected, for so gentle
and very amiable a man, a sister of the empress of fashion,(396)
nor a daughter of the goddess of wisdom.(397)

They talk of great disssatisfactions in the fleet.  Geary and
Barrington are certainly retired.  It looks, if this deplorable
war should continue, as if all our commanders by sea and land
were to be disgraced or disgusted.

The people here have christened Mr. Shirley's new house,
Spite-hall.(398)  It is dismal to think that one may live to
seventy-seven, and go out of the world doing as ill-natured an
act as possible! When I am reduced to detail the gazette of
Twickenham, I had better release your lordship; but either way it
is from the utmost attention and respect for your lordship and
Lady Strafford, as I am ever most devotedly and gratefully yours.

(395) In the following November, Lord Duncannon married
Henrietta-Frances, second daughter of John first Earl Spencer.-E.

(396) Georgiana, eldest daughter of John first Earl Spencer;
married, in 1774, to the Duke of Devonshire.-E.

(397) Margaret-Georgiana, daughter of the Right Hon.  Stephen
Poyntz; married, in 1755, to John first Earl Spencer.-E.

(398) Because built, it was said, on purpose to intercept a view
of the Thames from his opposite neighbour.



letter 199 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Strawberry Hill, Sept. 27, 1780. (page 256)

Dear Sir,
I MUST inquire how you do after all your election agitations,
which have growled even around your hermitage.  Candidates and
their emissaries are like Pope's authors,

"They pierce our thickets, through our groves they glide."

However, I have barred my doors; and when I would not go to an
election for myself, I would not for any one else.

Has not a third real summer, and so very dry one, assisted your
complaints?  I have been remarkably well, and better than for
these five years.  Would I could say the same of all my friends--
but, alas! I expect every day to hear that I have lost my dear
old friend Madame du Deffand.(399)  She was indeed near
eighty-four, but retained all her interior faculties--two days
ago the letters from Paris forbade all hopes.  So I reckon myself
dead as to France, where I have kept up no other connexion.

I am going at last to publish my fourth volume of Painters,
which, though printed so long, I have literally treated by
Horace's rule, "Nonumque prematur in nonum."  Tell me how I shall
send it to you.  Yours ever.

(399) In the last letter Madame du Deffand ever wrote to Walpole,
dated the 22d of August, she thus describes her situation:--"Je
vous mandai dans ma derni`ere que je ne me portais pas bien;
c'cst encore pis aujourd'hui.  Je suis d'une faiblesse et d'un
abattement excessifs; Ma voix est `eteinte, je ne puis me
soutenir sur mes jambes, je ne puis me donner aucun mouvement,
j'ai le coeur envolopp`e; j'ai de la peine `a croire que cet
`etat ne m'annonce une fin prochaine.  Je n'ai pas la force d'en
`etre effray`ee; et, ne vous devant revoir de ma vie, je n'a rien
`a regretter.  Divertissez-vous, mon ami, le plus que vous
pourrez; ne vous affligez point de mon `etat; nous `etions
presque perdus l'un pour l'autre; nous ne nous devions jamais
revoir!  vous me regretterez, parce qu'on est bien-aise de se
savoir aim`e.  Peut-`etre que par la suite Wiart vous mandera de
mes nouvelles; c'est une fatigue pour moi de dicter."  From this
day she kept her bed.  On the 8th of September Mr. Walpole had
written to her, expressing his great anxiety for her.  To his
inquiries she was unable to dictate an answer.  Her anteroom
continued every day crowded with the persons who had before
surrounded her supper-table.  Her weakness became excessive; but
she suffered no pain, and possessed her memory, understanding,
and ideas till within the last eight days of her existence, when
a lethargic insensibility took which terminated in death, without
effort or struggle, on the 24th of September.  She was buried,
according to her own direction, in the plainest manner, in her
parish church of St. Sulpice.  To Mr. Walpole she bequeathed the
whole of her manuscripts, papers, letters, and books, of every
description; with a permission to the Prince of Beauvau to take a
copy of any of the papers he might desire.-E.



Letter 200 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Berkeley Square, Oct. 3, 1780. (page 256)

I did not go to Malvern, and therefore cannot certify you, my
good Sir, whether Tom Hearne mistook stone for brass or not,
though I dare to say your criticism is just.

My book, if I can possibly, shall go to the inn to-morrow, or
next day at least.  You will find a great deal of rubbish in it,
with all your partiality--but I shall have done with it.

I cannot thank you enough for your goodness about your notes that
you promised Mr. Grose; but I cannot possibly be less generous
and less disinterested, nor can by any means be the cause of your
breaking your word.  In short, I insist on your sending your
notes to him--and as to my Life of Mr. Baker, if it is known to
exist, nobody can make me produce it sooner than I please, nor at
all if I do not please; so pray send your accounts, and leave me
to be stout with our antiquaries, or curious.  I shall not
satisfy the latter, and don't care a straw for the former.

The Master of Pembroke (who he is, I don't know(400)) is like the
lover who said,

"Have I not seen thee where thou hast not been?"

I have been in Kent with Mr. Barrett, but was not at Ramsgate;
the Master, going thither, perhaps saw me.  It is a mistake not
worth rectifying.  I have no time for more, being in the midst of
the delivery of my books.  Yours ever.

(400) Dr. James Brown; see ante, p. 62, letter 36.-E.



Letter 201 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Berkeley Square, Nov. 11, 1780. (page 257)

I am afraid you are not well, my good Sir; for you are so
obligingly punctual, that I think you would have acknowledged the
receipt of my last volume, if you were not out of order.

Lord Dacre lent me the new edition of Mr. Gough's Topography, and
the ancient maps and quantity of additions tempted me to buy it.
I have not gone through much above the half of the first volume,
and find it more entertaining than the first edition.  This is no
partiality; for I think he seems rather disposed, though civilly,
to find cavils with me.  Indeed, in the passage in which I am
most mentioned, he not only gives a very confused, but quite a
wrong account: as in other places, he records some trifles in my
possession not worth recording--but I know that we antiquaries
are but too apt to think, that whatever has had the honour of
entering our ears, is worthy of being laid before the eyes of
every body else.  The story I mean is P. ix. of the preface.  Now
the three volumes of drawings and tombs, by Mr. Lethueillier and
Sir Charles Frederick, for which Mr. Gough says I refused two
hundred pounds, are now Lord Bute's, are not Lord Bute's, but
mine, and for which I never was offered two hundred pounds, and
for which I gave sixty pounds--full enough.  The circumstances
were much more entertaining than Mr. G.'s perplexed account.
Bishop Lyttelton told me Sir Charles Frederick complained of Mr.
L.'s not bequeathing them to him, as he had been a joint labourer
with him; and that Sir Charles wished I Would not bid against him
for them, as they were to be sold by auction.  I said this was a
very reasonable request, and that I was ready to oblige Sir
Charles; but as I heard others meant to bid high for the books, I
should wish to know how far he would go, and that I would not
oppose him; but should the books exceed the price Sir Charles was
willing to give, I should like to be at liberty to bid for them
against others.  However, added I, as Sir Charles (who lived then
in Berkelyey-square, as I did then in Arlington-street,) passes
by my door every time he goes to the House of Commons, if he will
call on me, We will make such agreement.  You will scarce believe
the sequel.  The dignity of Sir Charles Frederick was hurt that I
should propose his making me the first visit, though to serve
himself--nothing could be more out of my imagination than the
ceremonial of visits; though when he was so simple as to make a
point of it, I could not see how in any light I was called on to
make the first visit--and so the treaty ended; and so I bought
the books.  There was another work, I think in two volumes, which
was their Diary of Their Tour, with a few slight views.  Bishop
Lyttelton proposed them to me, and engaged to get them for me
from Mr. Lethueillier's sister for ten guineas.  She hesitated,
the Bishop died, I thought no more of them, and they may be what
Lord Bute has.  There is another assertion in Mr. Gough, which I
can authentically Contradict.  He says Sir Matthew Decker first
introduced ananas, p. 134.  My very curious picture of Rose, the
royal gardener, presenting the first ananas to Charles II. proves
the culture here earlier by several years.

At page 373, he seems to doubt my assertion of Gravelot's making
drawings of tombs in Gloucestershire, because he never met with
any engravings from them.  I took my account from Vertue, who
certainly knew what he said.  I bought at Vertue's own sale some
of Gravelot's drawings of our regal monuments, which Vertue
engraved: but, which is stronger, Mr. Gough himself a few pages
after, viz. in p. 387, mentions Gravelot's drawing of Tewkesbury
church; which being in Gloucestershire, Mr. G. might have
believed me that Gravelot did draw in that county.  This is a
little like Mr. Masters's being angry with me for taking
liberties with bishops and chancellors, and then abusing grossly
one who had been both bishop and chancellor.  I forgot that in
the note on Sir Charles Frederick, Mr. Gough calls Mr. Worseley,
Wortley.  In page 354, he says Rooker exhibited a drawing of
Waltham-cross to the Royal Academy of Sciences--pray where is
that academy?  I suppose he means that of painting.  I find a few
omissions; one very comical; he says Penshurst was celebrated by
Ben Jonson, and seems Perfectly in the dark as to how much more
fame it owes to Waller.  We antiquaries are a little apt to get
laughed at for knowing what every body has forgotten, and for
being ignorant of what every child knows.  Do not tell him of
these things, for I do not wish to vex him.  I hope I was
mistaken, and shall hear that you are well.  Yours ever.



Letter 202 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Berkeley Square, Nov. 24, 1780. (page 259)

I am sorry I was so much in the right in guessing you had been
ill, but at our age there is little sagacity in such divination.
In my present holidays from the gout, I have a little rheumatism,
or some of those accompaniments.

I have made several more notes to the new Topography, but none of
consequence enough to transcribe.  It is well it is a book only
for the adept, or the scorners would often laugh.  Mr. Gough
speaking of some cross that has been removed, says, there is now
an unmeaning market-house in its place.  Saving his reverence and
our prejudices, I doubt there is a good deal more meaning in a
market-house than in a cross.  They tell me that there are
numberless mistakes.  Mr. Pennant, whom I saw yesterday, says so.
He is not one of our plodders; rather the other extreme.  His
corporal spirits (for I cannot call them animal) do not allow him
time to digest any thing.  He gave a round jump from ornithology
to antiquity; and, as if they had any relation, thought he
understood every thing between them.  These adventures divert me
who am got on shore, and find how sweet it is to look back on
those who are toiling in deep waters, whether in ships, or
cock-boats, or on old rotten planks.  I am sorry for the Dean of
Exeter; if he dies, I conclude the leaden mace of the Antiquarian
Society will be given to Judge Barrington,(401)

Et simili frondescet Virga metallo."

I endeavoured to give our antiquaries a little wrench towards
taste--but it was in vain.  Sandby and our engravers have lent
them a great deal--but there it stops.  Captain Grose's
dissertations are as dull and silly as if they were written for
the Ostrogoth maps of the beginning of the new Topography: and
which are so square and incomprehensible, that they look as if
they were ichnographics of the New Jerusalem.  I am delighted
with having done with the professions of author and printer, and
intend to be most comfortably lazy, I was going to say idle (but
that would not be new) for the rest of my days.

If there was a peace, I would build my offices--if there is not
soon, we shall be bankrupt--nay, I do not know what may happen as
it is.  Well! Mr. Grose will have plenty of ruins to engrave!
The Royal Academy will make a fine mass, with what remains of old
Somerset-house.

Adieu! my good Sir.  Let me know you are well.  You want nothing
else, for you can always amuse Yourself, and do not let the
foolish world disturb you.  Yours most sincerely.

(401) The Hon. Daines Barrington, fourth son of John first
Viscount Barrington, second Justice of Chester, and author of
"Observations on the Statutes," etc.  He was eminent in natural
history, and in several branches of literature; and died in
1800.-E.



Letter 203 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Berkeley Square, Nov. 30, 1780. (page 260)

I am sorry, my dear Sir, that you should be so humble with me,
your ancient friend, and to whom you have ever been so liberal,
as to make an apology for desiring me to grant the request of
another person.  I am not less sorry that I shall not, I fear, be
able to comply with it; and you must have the patience to hear my
reason,,-,.  The first edition of the Anecdotes was of three
hundred, of the two first volumes; and of as many of the third
volume, and of the volume of Engravers.  Then there was an
edition of three hundred of all four.  Unluckily, I did not keep
any number back of the two first volumes, and literally have none
but those I reserved for myself.  Of the other two I have two or
three: and, I believe, I have a first, but without the cuts.  If
I can,.with some odd volumes that I kept for corrections, make
out a decent set, the library of the University shall have them;
but you must not promise them, lest I should not be able to
perform.

Of my new fourth volume I printed six hundred; but as they can be
had, I believe not a third part is sold.  This is a very plain
lesson to me, that my editions sell for their curiosity, and not
for any merit in them: and so they would if I printed Mother
Goose's Tales, and but a few.  As my Anecdotes of Painting have
been published at such distant periods, and in three divisions,
complete sets will be seldom seen; so, If I am humbled as an
author, I may be vain as a printer; and, when one has nothing
else to be vain of, it is certainly very little worth while to be
proud of that.

I will now trust you with a secret, but beg Mr. Gough may not
know it, for he will print it directly.  Though I forgot Alma
Mater, I have not forgotten my Alma Nutrices, wet or dry, I mean
Eton and King's.  I have laid aside for them, and left them in my
will, as complete a set as I could, of all I have printed.  A few
I did give them at first; but I have for neither a perfect set of
the Anecdotes, I mean not the two first volumes.  I should be
much obliged to you, if, without naming me, you could inform
yourself if I did send to King'S those two first volumes--I
believe not.                                   '

I will now explain what I said above of Mr. Gough.  He has
learnt, I suppose from my engravers, that I have had some views
of Strawberry-hill engraved.  Slap-dash, down it went, and he has
even specified each view in his second volume.  This curiosity is
a little impertinent; but he has made me some amends by a new
blunder, for he says they are engraved for a second edition of my
Catalogue. Now I have certainly printed but one edition, for
which the prints are designed.  He says truly, that I printed but
a few for use; consequently, I by no means wished the whole world
should know it; but he is silly, and so I will say no more about
him.  Dr. Lort called yesterday, and asked if I had any message
for you; but I had written too lately.

Mr. Pennant has been, as I think I told you, in town: by this
time I conclude he is, as Lady Townley says of fifty pounds, all
over the kingdom.  When Dr. Lort returns, I shall be very glad to
read your transcript of Wolsey's Letters; for, in your hand, I
can read them.  I will not have them but by some very safe
conveyance, and will return them with equal care.

I can have no objection to Robin Masters being wooden-head of the
Antiquarian Society; but, I suppose, he is not dignified enough
for them.  I should prefer the Judge too, because a coif makes
him more like an old woman, and I reckon that Society the
midwives of superannuated miscarriages.  I am grieved for the
return of your headaches--I doubt you write too much.  Yours most
sincerely.

P. S. It will be civil to tell Dr. Farmer that I do not know
whether I can obey his commands , but that I will if I can.  As
to a distinguished place, I beg not to be preferred to much
better authors; nay, the more conspicuous, the more likely to be
stolen for the reasons I have given you, of there being few
complete sets, and true collectors are mighty apt to steal.



Letter 204 To Sir David Dalrymple.(402)
Dec. 11, 1780. (page 261)

I should have been shamefully ungrateful, Sir, if I could ever
forget all the favours I have received from you, and had omitted
any mark of respect to you that it was in my power to show.
Indeed, what you are so good as to thank me for was a poor
trifle, but it was all I had or shall have of the kind.  It was
imperfect too, as some painters Of name have died since it was
printed, which was nine years ago.  They will be added with your
kind notices, should I live, which is not probable, to see a new
edition wanted.  Sixty-three years, and a great deal of illness,
are too speaking mementos not to be attended to; and when the
public has been more indulgent than one had any right to expect,
it is not decent to load it with one's dotage.

I believe,  Sir, that I may have been over-candid to Hogarth, and
fail his spirit and youth and talent may have hurried him into
more real caricatures than I specified .  yet he certainly
restrained his bent that way pretty early.  Charteris(403) I have
seen; but though Some years older than you, Sir, I cannot say I
have at all a perfect idea of him: nor did I ever hear the
curious anecdote you tell me of ' the banker and my father.  I
was much better acquainted with bishop Blackbourne.  He lived
within two doors of my father in Downing Street, and took much
notice of me when I was near man.  It is not to be ungrateful and
asperse him, but to amuse you, if I give you some account of him
from what I remember.(404)  He was perfectly a fine gentleman to
the last, to eighty-four; his favourite author was Waller, whom
he frequently quoted.  In point of decorum, he was not quite so
exact as you have been told, Sir.  I often dined with him, his
mistress, Mrs. Conwys, sat at the head of the table, and
Hayter,(405) his natural son by another woman, and very like him,
at the bottom, as chaplain: he was afterwards Bishop of London.
I have heard, but do not affirm it, that Mrs. Blackbourne, before
she died, complained of Mrs. Conwys being brought under the same
roof.  To his clergy he was, I have heard, very imperious.  One
story I recollect, which showed how much he was a man of this
world: and which the Queen herself repeated to my father.  On the
King's last journey to Hanover, before Lady Yarmouth came over,
the Archbishop being With her Majesty, said to her, "Madam, I
have been with your minister Walpole, and he tells me that you
are a wise woman, and do not mind your husband's having a
mistress."  He was a little hurt at not being raised to
Canterbury on Wake's death, and said to my father, "You did not
think on me: but it is true, I am too old, I am too old."
Perhaps, Sir, these are gossiping stories, but at least they hurt
nobody now.

I can say little, Sir, for my stupidity or forgetfulness about
Hogarth's poetry, which I still am not sure I ever heard, though
I knew him so well; but it is an additional argument for my
distrusting myself, if my memory fails, which is very possible.
A whole volume of Richardson's poetry has been published since my
volume was printed, not much to the honour of his muse, but
exceedingly so to that of his piety and amiable heart.  You will
be pleased, too, Sir, with a story Lord Chesterfield told me (too
late too) of Jervas, who piqued himself on the reverse, on total
infidelity.  One day that he had talked very indecently in that
strain, Dr. Arbuthnot, who was as devout as Richardson, said to
him, "Come, Jervas, this is all an air and affectation; nobody is
a sounder believer than you."  "I!" said Jervase, "I believe
nothing."  "Yes, but you do," replied the Doctor; "nay, you not
only believe, but practise: you are so scrupulous an observer of
the commandments, that you never make the likeness of any thing
that is in heaven, or on the earth beneath, or," etc.

I fear, Sir, this letter is too long for thanks, and that I have
been proving what I have said, of my growing superannuated; but,
having made my will in my last volume, you may look on this as a
codicil.

P. S. I had sealed my letter, Sir, but break it open, lest you
should think soon, that I do not know what I say, or break my
resolution lightly. I shall be able to send you in about two
months a very curious work that I am going to print, and is
actually in the press; but there is not a syllable of my writing
in it.  It is a discovery just made of two very ancient
manuscripts, copies of which were found in two or three libraries
in Germany, and of which there are more complete manuscripts at
Cambridge.  They are of the eleventh century at longest, and
prove that painting in oil was then known, above three hundred
years before the pretended invention of Van Dyck.  The
manuscripts themselves will be printed, with a full introductory
Dissertation by the discoverer, Mr. Raspe, a very learned German.
formerly librarian to the Landgrave of Hesse, and who writes
English surprisingly well.  The manuscripts are in the most
barbarous monkish Latin, and are much such works as our
booksellers publish of receipts for mixing colours, varnishes,
etc.  One of the authors, who calls himself Theophilus, was a
monk; the other, Heraclitis, is totally unknown; but the proofs
are Unquestionable.  As my press is out of order, and that
besides it would take up too much time to print them there, they
will be printed here at my expense, and if there is any surplus,
it will be for Raspe's benefit.

(402) Now first collected.

(403) The notorious Colonel Francis Charteris, to whom Hogarth
has accorded a conspicuous place in the first plate of his
Harlot's Progress.  Pope describes him as "a man infamous for all
manner of vices," and thus introduces him into his third Moral
Essay:--

"Riches in effect,
No grace of Heaven, or token of th' Elect;
Given to the fool, the mad, the vain, the evil,
To Ward, to Waters, Chartres, and the devil!"

He died in Scotland, in 1731, at the age of sixty-two.  The
populace, at his funeral, raised a great riot, almost tore the
body out of the coffin, and cast dead dogs, etc. into the grave
along with it.-E.

(404) See the note to vol. i. p. 314, letter 101.-E.

(405) For a refutation of Walpole's assertion, that Bishop Hayter
was a natural son of bishop Blackbourn's, see vol. ii. p. 100,
letter 39.-E.



Letter 205 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Berkeley Square, Dec. 19, 1780. (page 263)

I cannot leave you for a moment in error, my good Sir, when you
transfer a compliment to me, to which I have not the most slender
claim, and defraud another of it to whom it is due.

The friend of Mr. Gray, in whom authorship caused no jealousy or
variance, as Mr. Mainwaring says truly, is Mr. Mason.  I
certainly never excelled in poetry, and never attempted the
species of poetry alluded to, odes.  Dr. Lort, I suppose, is
removing to a living or a prebend, at least; I hope so.  He may
run a risk if he carries his book to Lambeth.  "Sono sonate venti
tre ore e mezza," as Alexander VIII. said to his nephew, when he
was chosen pope in extreme old age.  My Lord of Canterbury's is
not extreme, but very tottering.  I found in Mr. Gough's new
edition, that in the Pepysian library is a view of the theatre in
Dorset Gardens, and views of four or five other ancient great
mansions.  Do the folk of Magdalen ever suffer copies of such
things to be taken?  If they would, is there any body at
Cambridge that could execute them, and reasonably?  Answer me
quite at your leisure; and, also, what and by whom is the altar-
piece that Lord Carlisle has given to King's.  I did not know he
had been of our college.  I have two or three plates of
Strawberry more than those you mention; but my collections are so
numerous, and from various causes my prints have been in such
confusion, that at present I neither know where the plates or
proofs are.  I intend next summer to set about completing my plan
of the Catalogue and its prints; and when I have found any of the
plates or proofs, you shall certainly have those you want.  There
are two large views of the house, one of the cottage, one of the
library, one of the front to the road, and the chimney-piece in
the Holbein room.  I think these are all that are finished--oh!
yes, I believe the prior's garden; but I have not seen them these
two years.  I was so ill the summer before last, that I attended
to nothing; the little I thought of in that way last summer, was
to get out my last volume of the Anecdotes; now I have nothing to
trouble myself about as an editor, and that not publicly, but to
finish my Catalogue--and that will be awkwardly enough; for so
many articles have been added to my collection since the
description was made, that I must add them in the appendix or
reprint it: and, what is more inconvenient, the positions of many
of the pictures have been changed; and so it will be a lame piece
of work.  Adieu, my dear Sir! Yours most cordially.



Letter 206 To Sir David Dalrymple.(406)
Berkeley Square, Jan. 1, 1781. (page 264)

Your favourable opinion of my father, Sir, is too flattering(r to
me not to thank you for the satisfaction it gave me.  Wit, I
think he had not naturally, though I am sure he had none from
affectation, as simplicity was a predominant feature in his
amiable composition.  but he possessed that, perhaps, most true
species of wit, which flows from experience and deep knowledge of
mankind, and consequently had more in his later than in his
earlier years; which is not common to a talent that generally
flashes from spirits, though they alone cannot bestow it.  When
you was once before so good, Sir, as to suggest to me an attempt
at writing my father's life, I probably made you one answer that
I must repeat now, which is, that a son's encomiums would be
attributed to partiality; and with my deep devotion to his
memory, I should ever suspect it in myself.  But I will set my
repugnance in a stronger light, by relating an anecdote not
incurious.  In the new edition of the Biographia Britannica, Dr.
Kippis, the tinker of it, reflecting on my having called the
former, Vindicatio Britannica, or Defence of Every body,
threatened that when he should come to my father's life he would
convince me that the new edition did not deserve that censure.  I
confess I thought this but an odd sort of historian equity, to
reverse scripture and punish the sins of children upon their
fathers! However, I said nothing.  Soon after Dr. Kippis himself
called on me, and in very gracious terms desired I would favour
him with anecdotes of my father's life.  This was descending a
little from his censorial throne, but I took no notice; and only
told him, that I was so persuaded of the fairness of my father's
character, that I chose to trust it to the most unprejudiced
hands; and that all I could consent to was, that when he shall
have written it, if he would communicate it to me, I would point
out to him any material facts, if I should find any, that were
not truly noted.  This was all I could contribute.  Since that
time I have seen in the second volume a very gross accusation of
Sir Robert, at second or third hand, and to which the smallest
attention must give a negative.  Sir Robert is accused of having,
out of spite, influenced the House of Commons to expel the late
Lord Barrington for the notorious job of the Hamburg
lottery.(407)  Spite was not the ingredient most domineering in
my father's character; but whatever has been said of the
corruption or servility of Houses of Commons, when was there one
so prostitute, that it would have expelled one of their own
members for a fraud not proved, to gratify the vengeance of the
minister?  and a minister must have been implacable indeed, and a
House of Commons profligate indeed, to inflict such a stigma on
an innocent man, because he had been attached to a rival
predecessor of the minister.  It is not less strange that the
Hamburgher's son should not have vindicated his parent's memory
at the opportunity of the secret committee on Sir Robert, but
should wait for a manuscript memorandum of Serjeant Skinner after
the death of this last.  I hope Sir Robert will have no such
apologist!

I do not agree less with you, Sir, in your high opinion of King
William.  I think, and a far better judge, Sir Robert, thought
that Prince one of the wisest men that ever lived.  Your bon-mot
of his was quite new to me.  There are two or three passages in
the Diary of the second Earl of Clarendon that always struck me
as instances of wisdom and humour at once, particularly his
Majesty's reply to the lords who advised him (I think at
Salisbury,) to send away King James; and his few words, after
long patience, to that foolish lord himself, who harangued him on
the observance of his declaration.  Such traits, and several of
Queen Anne (not equally deep) in the same journal, paint those
princes as characteristically as Lord Clarendon's able father
would have drawn them.  There are two letters in the "Nugae
Antiquae," that exhibit as faithful pictures of Queen Elizabeth
and James the First, by delineating them in their private life
and unguarded hours.

You are much in the right, Sir, in laughing at those wise
personages, who not only dug up the corpse of Edward the First,
but restored Christian burial to his crown and robes.  Methinks,
had they deposited those regalia in the treasury of the church,
they would have committed no sacrilege.  I confess I have not
quite so heinous an idea of sacrilege as Dr. Johnson.  Of all
kinds of robbery, that appears to me the lightest species which
injures nobody.  Dr. Johnson is so pious, that in his journey to
your country, he flatters himself that all his readers will join
him in enjoying the destruction of two Dutch crews, who were
swallowed up by the ocean after they had robbed a church.(408)  I
doubt that uncharitable anathema is more in the spirit of the Old
Testament than of the New.

(406) Now first published.

(407) See ant`e, p. 201, letter 147.-E.

(408) The following are Johnson's words:--"The two churches of
Elgin were stripped, and the lead was shipped to be sold in
Holland: I hope every reader will rejoice that this cargo of
sacrilege was lost at sea."-E.



Letter 207 To The Hon. H. S. Conway.
January 3, 1781. (page 266)

After I had written my note to you last night, I called on * * *
* who gave me the dismal account of Jamaica,(409) that you will
see in the Gazette, and of the damage done to our shipping.
Admiral Rowley is safe; but they are in apprehensions for
Walsingham.  He told me too what is not in the Gazette; that of
the expedition against the Spanish settlements, not a single man
survives!  The papers to-day, I see, speak of great danger to
Gibraltar.

Your brother repeated to me his great desire that you should
publish your speech,(410) as he told you.  I do not conceive why
he is so eager for it, for he professes total despair about
America.  It looks to me as if there was a wish of throwing the
blame somewhere; but I profess I am too simple to dive into the
objects of shades of intrigues: nor do I care about them.  We
shall be reduced to a miserable little island; and from a mighty
empire sink into as insignificant a country as Denmark or
Sardinia!  When our trade and marine are gone, the latter of
which we keep up by unnatural efforts, to which our debt will put
a stop, we shall lose the East Indies as Portugal did; and then
France will dictate to us more imperiously than ever we did to
Ireland, which is in a manner already gone too! These are
mortifying reflections, to -which an English mind cannot easily
accommodate itself.  But, alas! we have been pursuing the very
conduct that France would have prescribed, and more than with all
her presumption she could have dared to expect.  Could she
flatter herself that we would take no advantage of the
dilatoriness and unwillingness of Spain to enter into the war?
that we would reject the disposition of Russia to support us? and
that our still more natural friend, Holland,(411) would be driven
into the league against us?  All this has happened; and, like an
infant, we are delighted with having set our own frock in a
blaze! I sit and gaze with astonishment at our frenzy.  Yet why?
Are not nations as liable to intoxication as individuals?  Are
not predictions founded on calculation oftener rejected than the
prophecies of dreamers?  Do we not act precisely like Charles
Fox, who thought he had discovered a new truth in figures, when
he preached that wise doctrine, that nobody could want money that
would pay enough for it?  The consequence was, that in two years
he left himself without the possibility of borrowing a shilling.
I am not surprised at the spirits of' a boy of parts; I am not
surprised at the people; I do wonder at government, that games
away its consequence.  For what are we now really at war with
America, France, Spain, and Holland!--Not with hopes of
reconquering America; not with the smallest prospect of
conquering a foot of land from France, Spain, or Holland.  No; we
are at war on the defensive to protect what is left, or more
truly to stave off, for a year perhaps, a peace that must
proclaim our nakedness and impotence.  I would not willingly
recur to that womanish vision of something may turn up in our
favour!  That something must be a naval victory that will
annihilate at once all the squadrons of Europe--must wipe off
forty millions of new debt--reconcile the affections of America,
that for six years we have laboured to alienate; and that must
recall out of the grave the armies and sailors that are perished-
-and that must make thirteen provinces willing to receive the
law, without the necessity of keeping ten thousand men amongst
them.  The gigantic imagination of Lord Chatham would not
entertain such a chimera.  Lord * * * * perhaps would say he did,
rather than not undertake; or Mr. Burke could form a metaphoric
vision that would satisfy no imagination but his own: but I, who
am nullius addiclus itrare in verba, have no hopes either in our
resources or in our geniuses, and look on my country already as
undone! It is grievous--but I shall not have much time to lament
its fall!(412)

(409) On the 3d of October occurred one of the most dreadful
hurricanes ever experienced in the West Indies.  In Jamaica,
Savannah la Mar, with three hundred inhabitants, was utterly
swept away by an irruption of the sea; and at Barbados, on the
10th, Bridgetown, the capital of the island, was almost levelled
to the ground, and several thousands of the inhabitants
perished.-E.

(410) "Introductory of a motion for leave to bring in a bill for
quieting the troubles that have for some time subsisted between
Great Britain and America, and enabling his Majesty to send out
commissioners with full power to treat with America for that
purpose."  The motion was negatived by 123 against 81.  For the
speech of General Conway, and a copy of his proposed bill, see
Parl. History, vol, Nxi. pp. 570, 588.-E.

(411) Mr. Henry Laurens, president of the American council,
having been taken by one of the King's frigates early in October
1780, on his passage to Holland, and it being discovered by the
papers in his possession that the American States had been long
carrying on a secret correspondence with Amsterdam, Sir Joseph
Yorke, the British minister at the Hague, demanded a satisfactory
explanation; but the same not being afforded, hostilities against
Holland were declared on the 28th of December 1780.-E.

(412) To this passage the editor of Walpole's Works subjoined, in
March 1798, the following note:--"It may be some comfort, in a
moment no less portentous and melancholy than the one here
described, to recollect the almost unhoped-for recovery of
national prosperity, which took place from the peace of 1782 to
the declaration of war against France in the year 1793.  May our
exertions procure the speedy application of a similar remedy to
our present evils, and may that remedy be productive of equally
good effects!"-E.



Letter 208 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Berkeley Square, Feb. 7, 1781. (page 268)


Dear Sir,
I will not leave you a moment in suspense about the safety of
your very valuable volume, which you have so kindly sent me, and
which I have just received, with the enclosed letters, and your
other yesterday.  I have not time to add a word more at present,
being full of business, having the night before last received an
account of Lady Orford's death at Pisa,(413) and a copy of her
will, which obliges me to write several letters, and to see my
relations.  She has left every thing in her power to her friend
Cavalier Mozzi, at Florence; but her son comes into a large
estate, besides her great jointure.  You may imagine, how I
lament that he had not patience to wait sixteen months, before he
sold his pictures!

I am very sorry you have been at all indisposed.  I will take the
utmost care of your fifty-ninth volume (for which I give you this
receipt), and will restore it the instant I have had time to go
through it. Witness my hand.

(413) See vol. i. p. 243, letter 61.-E.



Letter 209 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
February 9, 1781. (page 268)

I had not time, dear Sir, when I wrote last, to answer your
letter, nor do more than cast an eye on your manuscripts.  To say
the truth, my patience is not tough enough to go through Wolsey's
negotiations.  I see that your perseverance was forced to make
the utmost efforts to transcribe them.  They are immeasurably
verbose, not to mention the blunders of the first copyist.  As I
road only for amusement, I cannot, so late in my life, purchase
information on what I do not much care about, at the price of a
great deal of ennui.  The old wills at the end of your volume
diverted me much more than the obsolete politics.  I shall say
nothing about what you call your old leaven.  Every body must
judge for himself in those matters: nor are you or I of an age to
change long-formed opinions, as neither of us is governed by
self-interest.  Pray tell me how I may most safely return your
volume.  I value all your manuscripts so much, that I should
never forgive myself, if a single one came to any accident by
your so obligingly lending them to me.  They are great treasures,
and contain something or other that must suit most tastes: not to
mention your amazing industry, neatness, legibility, with notes,
arms, etc.  I know no such repositories.  You will receive with
your manuscript Mr. Kerrick's and Mr. Gough's letters.  The
former is very kind.  The inauguration of the Antiquated Society
is burlesque and so is the dearth of materials for another
volume; can they ever want such rubbish as compose their
preceding annals?

I think it probable that story should be stone: however, I never
piqued myself on recording every mason.  I have preserved but too
many that did not deserve to be mentioned.  I dare to say, that
when I am gone, many more such will be added to my volumes.  I
had not heard of poor Mr. Pennant's misfortune.  I am very sorry
for it, for I believe him to be a very honest good-natured man.
He certainly was too lively for his proportion of understanding,
and too impetuous to make the best use of what he had.  However,
it is a credit to us antiquaries to have one of our class
disordered by vivacity.  I hope your goutiness is dissipated, and
that this last fine week has set you on your feet again.



Letter 210 To The Earl Of Buchan.(414)
Berkeley Square, Feb. 10, 1781. (page 269)

I was honoured yesterday with your lordship's card, with the
notification of the additional honour of my being elected an
honourary member of the Society of the Antiquaries of
Scotland;(415) a grace, my lord, that I receive with the respect
and gratitude due to so valuable a distinction; and for which I
must beg leave, through your lordship's favour, to offer my most
sincere and humble thanks to that learned and respectable
Society.  My very particular thanks are still due to your
lordship, who, in remembrance of ancient partiality, have been
pleased, at the hazard of your own judgment, to favour an old
humble servant, who can only receive honour from, but can reflect
none on, the Society into which your lordship and your associates
have condescended to adopt him.  In my best days, my lord, I
never could pretend to more than having flitted over some flowers
of knowledge.  Now worn out and near the end of my course, I can
Only be a broken monument to prove that the Society of the
Antiquaries of Scotland are zealous to preserve even the least
valuable remains of a former age, and to recompense all who have
contributed their mite towards illustrating our common island.  I
am, etc.

(414) Now first printed.

(415) The Royal Society of Antiquaries of Scotland had been
formed at Edinburgh in the preceding December, when the Earl of
Buchan was elected president.-E.



Letter 211 To Sir David Dalrymple.(416)
Strawberry Hill, Feb. 10, 1781. (page 270)

I was very intimate, Sir, with the last Lord Finlater when he was
Lord Deskford.  We became acquainted at Rome on our travels, and
though during his illness and long residence in Scotland, we had
no intercourse, I had the honour of seeing him sometimes during
his last visit to England; but I am an entire stranger to the
anecdote relative to my father and Sir William Windham.  I have
asked my brother, who was much more conversant in the scenes of
that time, for I was abroad when Sir William died, and returned
to England but about six months before my father's retirement, so
that having been at school and at Cambridge, or in my infancy,
during Sir Robert's administration, the little I retain from him
was picked up in the last three years of his life, which is an
answer, Sir, to your inquiries why, among other reasons, I have
always declined writing his life; for I could in reality say but
little on my own knowledge; and yet should have the air of being
good authority, at least better than I should truly be.  My
brother, Sir Edward, who is eleven years older than I am, never
heard of your anecdote.  I may add, that latterly I lived in
great intimacy with the Marchioness of Blandford, Sir William's
widow, who died but a year and a half ago at Sheepe, here in my
neighbourhood; and with Lady Suffolk, who could not but be well
acquainted with the history of those times from her long
residence at court, and with whom, for the last five or six years
of her life here at Twickenham, I have had many and many long
conversations on those subjects, and yet I never heard a word of
the supposed event you mention.  I myself never heard Sir W.
William speak but once in the House of Commons, but have always
been told that his style and behaviour were most liberal and like
a gentleman and my brother says, there never passed any
bitterness or acrimony between him and our father.(417)

I will answer you as fairly and candidly, Sir, about Archibald
Duke of Argyll, of whom I saw at least a great deal.  I do
believe Sir Robert had a full opinion of his abilities as a most
useful man.  In fact, it is plain he had; for he depended on the
Duke, when Lord Islay, for the management of your part of the
island, and, as I have heard at the time, disobliged the most
firm of the Scottish Whigs by that preference.  Sir Robert
supported Lord Islay against the Queen herself, who hated him for
his attachment to Lady Suffolk, and he was the only man of any
consequence whom her Majesty did not make feel how injudicious it
was (however novel) to prefer the interest of the mistress to
that of the wife.  On my father's defeat his warm friends loudly
complained of Lord Islay as having betrayed the Scottish
boroughs, at the election of Sir Robert's last Parliament, to his
brother, Duke John.  It is true too, that Sir Robert always
replied, "I do not accuse him."  I Must own, knowing my father's
manner, and that when he said but little, it was not a favourable
symptom, I did think, that if he would not accuse, at least he
did not acquit.  Duke Archibald was undoubtedly a dark shrewd
man.  I recollect an instance for which I should not choose to be
quoted just at this moment, though it reflects on nobody living.
I forget the precise period, and even some of the persons
concerned; but it was in the minority of the present Duke of
Gordon, and you, Sir, can probably adjust the dates.  A regiment
had been raised of Gordons.  Duke Archibald desired the command
of it to a favourite of his own.  The Duchess-dowager insisted on
it for her second husband.  Duke A. said, "Oh! to be sure her
grace must be obeyed;" but instantly got the regiment ordered to
the East Indies, which had not been the reckoning of a widow
remarried to a young fellow.(418)

At the time of the rebellion, I remember that Duke Archibald was
exceedingly censured in London for coming thither, and pleading
that he was not empowered to take up arms.  But I believe that I
have more than satisfied your curiosity, Sir, and that you will
not think it very prudent to set an old man on talking of the
days of his Youth.

I have just received the favour of a letter from Lord Buchan, in
which his lordship is so good as to acquaint me with the honour
your new Society of Antiquaries have done me in nominating me an
honourary member.  I am certainly much flattered by the
distinction, but am afraid his lordship's partiality and
patronage will in this only instance do him no credit.  My
knowledge even of British antiquity has ever been desultory and
most superficial; I have never studied any branch of science
deeply and solidly, nor ever but for temporary \amusement, and
without any system, suite, or method.  Of late years I have
quitted every connexion with societies, not only Parliament, but
those of our Antiquaries and of Arts and Sciences, and have not
attended the meetings of the Royal Society.  I have withdrawn
myself in a great measure from the world, and live in a very
narrow circle idly and obscurely.  Still, Sir, I could not
decline the honour your Society has been pleased to offer me,
lest it should be thought a want of respect and gratitude,
instead of a mark of humility and conscious unworthiness.  I am
so sensible of this last, that I cannot presume to offer my
services in this part of' our island to so respectable an
assembly; but if you, Sir, who know too well my limited
abilities, can at any time point out any information that it is
in my power to give to the Society, (as in the case of Royal
Scottish portraits, on which Lord Buchan was pleased to Consult
Me,) I shall be very proud to obey your and their commands, and
shall always be with great regard their and your most obedient
humble servant.

P. S. I do not know whether I ever mentioned to you or Lord
Buchan, Sir, a curious and excellent head in oil of the Lady
Margaret Douglas at Mr. Carteret's, at Hawnes in Bedfordshire,
the seat of his grandfather Lord Granville; I know few better
portraits.  It is at once a countenance of goodness and cunning,
a mixture I think pleasing.  It seems to imply that the person's
virtue was not founded on folly or ignorance of the world; it
implies perhaps more, that the person would combat treachery and
knavery, and knew how.  I could fancy the head in question was
such a character as Margaret Queen of Navarre, sister of Francis
the First. who was very free in her conversation and writings,
yet strictly virtuous; debonnaire, void of ambition; yet a
politician when her brother's situation required it.  If your
Society should give into engraving historic portraits, this head
would deserve an early place.  There is at Lord Scarborough's in
Yorkshire, a double portrait, perhaps by Holbein or Lucas de
Heere, of Lady Margaret's mother, Queen Margaret, and her second
husband.

(416) Now first collected.

(417) Pope in his second Dialogue for the Year 1738, has
transmitted Sir William's character to posterity--

"How can I, Pultney, Chesterfield, forget,
While Roman spirit charms, and Attic wit?
Or Wyndham, just to freedom and the throne,
The master of our passions and his own?"

Speaker Onslow says, "there was a spirit and power in his
speaking that always animated himself and his hearers, and with
the decoration of his manner, which was, indeed, very ornamental,
produced, not only the most attentive, respectful, but even a
reverend regard, to whatever he spoke."-E.

(418) See Memoires of George the Second, vol. i. p. 240.  "In his
private life," says Walpole, "he had more merit, except in the
case of his wife, whom, having been deluded into marrying without
a fortune, he punished by rigorous and unrelaxed confinement in
Scotland.  He had a great thirst for books; a head admirably
turned to mechanics; was a patron of ingenious men, a promoter of
discoveries, and one of the first encouragers of planting in
England; most of the curious exotics which have been familiarized
to this climate being introduced by him.  He died suddenly in his
chair after dinner, at his house in Argyle-buildings, London,
April 15, 1761."-E.



Letter 212 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Berkeley Square, March 2, 1781. (page 272)

Dear Sir,
My Lady Orford ordered herself to be buried at Leghorn, the only
place in Tuscany where Protestants have burial; therefore I
suppose she did not affect to change.  On the contrary, I believe
she had no preference for any sect, but rather laughed at all.  I
know nothing new, neither in novelty nor antiquity.  I have had
no gout this winter, and therefore I call it my leap-year. I am
sorry it is not yours too.  It is an age since I saw Dr. lort.  I
hope illness is not the cause.  You will be diverted with hearing
that I am chosen an honourary member of the new Antiquarian
Society at Edinburgh.  I accepted for two reasons: first, it is a
feather that does not demand my flying thither; and secondly, to
show contempt for our own old fools.(419)  To me it will be a
perfect sinecure; for I have moulted all my pen feathers, and
shall have no ambition of nestling into their printed
transactions.  Adieu, my good Sir.  Your much obliged.

(419) Cole, in a letter to Mr. Gough, acquainting him with
Walpole's election, adds--"The admission of a few things into our
Archaeologia, has, I fear, estranged for ever one of the most
lively, learned, and entertaining members on our list."-E.



Letter 213 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
March 5, 1781. (PAGE 273)

I do not in the least guess or imagine what you mean by Lord
Hardwicke's publication of a Walpoliana.(420)  Naturally it
should mean a collection of sayings or anecdotes of my father,
according to the French Anas, which began, I think, with those of
Menage.  Or, is it a collection of letters and state-papers,
during his administration?  I own I am curious to know at least
what this piece contains.  I had not heard a word of it; and,
were it not for the name, I should have very little
inquisitiveness about it: for nothing upon earth ever was duller
than the three heavy tomes his lordship printed of Sir Dudley
Carleton's Negotiations, and of what he called State-papers.
Pray send me an answer as soon as you can, at least of as much as
you have heard about this thing.

(420) "Walpoliana; or a few Anecdotes of Sir Robert Walpole"--an
agreeable little collection of anecdotes relative to Sir Robert
Walpole, made by Philip second Earl of Hardwicke; printed in
quarto, but never published.-E.



Letter 214 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Berkeley Square, March 29, 1781. (PAGE 273)

You are so good-natured that I am sure you will be glad to be
told that the report of Mr. Pennant being disordered is not true.
He is come to town--has been with me, and at least is as composed
as ever I saw him.  He is going to publish another part of his
Welsh Tour, which he can well afford; though I believe he does
not lose by his works.  An aunt is dead, exceedingly rich, who
had given some thousands to him and his daughter, but suddenly
changed her mind and left all to his sister, who has most nobly
given him all that had been destined in the cancelled will.  Dr.
Nash has just published the first volume of his Worcestershire.
It is a folio of prodigious corpulence, and yet dry enough; but
then it is finely dressed, and has many heads and views.(421)
Dr. Lort was with me yesterday, and I never saw him better, nor
has he been much out of order.  I hope your gout has left you;
but here are winds bitter enough to give one any thing.  Yours
ever.

(421) Dr. Threadway Nash's "Collections for the History of
Worcestershire;" 1781-1799; in two volumes, folio.-E.



Letter 215 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
April 3, 1781.(PAGE 274)

I am very sorry, dear Sir, that, in my last letter but one, I
took notice of what you said of Lord Hardwicke; the truth was, I
am perfectly indifferent about what he prints or publishes.
There is generally a little indirect malice but so much more
dulness, that the latter soon suffocates the former.  This is
telling you that I could not be offended at any thing you said of
him, nor am I likely to suspect a sincere friend of disobliging
me.  You have proved the direct contrary these forty years.  I
have not time to say more, but am ever most truly yours.



Letter 216 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Berkeley Square, May 4, 1781. (PAGE 274)

I shall not only be ready to show Strawberry Hill, at any time he
chooses, to Dr. Farmer, as your friend, but to be honoured with
his acquaintance, though I am very shy now of contracting new.  I
have great respect for his character and abilities and Judicious
taste, and am very clear that he has elucidated Shakspeare(422)
in a more reasonable and satisfactory manner than any of his
affected commentators, who only complimented him with learning
that he had not, in order to display their own.

Pray give me timely notice whenever I am likely to see Dr.
Farmer, that I may not be out of the way when I can have an
opportunity of showing attention to a friend of yours, and pay a
small part of your gratitude to him.  There shall be a bed at his
service; for you know Strawberry cannot be seen in a moment, nor
are Englishmen so liants as to get acquainted in the time they
are walking through a house.

But now, my good Sir, how could you suffer your prejudiced
partiality to me to run away with you so extravagantly, as to
call me one of the greatest characters of the age?  You are too
honest to flatter, too much a hermit to be interested, and I am
too powerless and insignificant to be an object of court, were
you capable of paying it from mercenary views.  I know then that
it could proceed from nothing but the warmth of your heart; but
if you are blind towards me, I am not so to myself.  I know not
how others feel on such occasions, but if any one happens to
praise me, all my faults rush into my face, and make me turn my
eyes inward and outward with horror.  What am I but a poor old
skeleton tottering towards the grave, and conscious of a thousand
weaknesses, follies, and worse!  And for talents, what are mine
but trifling and superficial; and, compared with those of men
with real genius, most diminutive! Mine a great character! Mercy
on me! I am a composition of Anthony Wood and Madame Danois,(423)
and I know not what trumpery writers.  This is the least I can
say to refute your panegyric, which I shall burn presently; for I
will not have such an encomiastic letter found in my possession,
lest I should seem to have been pleased with it. I enjoin you, as
a penance, not to contradict one tittle I have said here; for I
am not begging more compliments, and shall take it seriously ill
if you ever pay me another.  We have been friends above forty
years; I am satisfied of your sincerity and affection; but does
it become us, at past threescore each, to be saying fine things
to one another?  Consider how soon we shall both be nothing!

I assure you, with great truth, I am at this present very sick of
my little vapour of fame.  My tragedy has wandered into the hands
of some banditti booksellers, and I am forced to publish it
myself to prevent piracy.(424)  All I can do is to condemn it
myself, and that I shall.  I am reading Mr. Pennant's new Welsh
Tour; he has pleased me by making very handsome mention of you;
but I will not do, what I have been blaming.

My poor dear Madame du Deffand's little dog is arrived.  She made
me promise to take care of it the last time I saw her: that I
will most religiously, and make it as happy as is possible.(425)
I have not much curiosity to see your Cambridge Raphael, but
great desire to see you, and will certainly this summer, accept
your invitation,, which I take much kinder than your great
character, though both flowed from the same friendship.  Mine for
you is exactly what it has been ever since you knew (and few men
can boast so uninterrupted a friendship as yours and that of--)
H. W.

(422) In his well-known "Essay on the Learning of Shakspeare."-E.

(423) Madame d'Aulnoy, the contemporary of Perrault, and, like
him, a writer of fairy tales.  She was the authoress of "The
Lady's Travels in Spain," and many other works, which have been
translated into English.-E.

(424) Walpole had printed fifty copies of"The Mysterious Mother"
at Strawberry Hill as early as the year 1765; but a surreptitious
edition of it being announced in 1781, he consented to Dodsley's
publishing a genuine one.-E.

(425) In his reply to this letter, of the 7th of May, the worthy
antiquary says-"I congratulate the little Parisian dog, that he
has fallen into the hands of so humane a master.  I have a little
diminutive dog, Busy, full as great a favourite, and never out of
my lap: I have already, in case of an accident, ensured it a
refuge from starvation and ill-usage.  It is the least we can do
for poor harmless, shiftless, pampered animals that have amused
us, and we have spoilt."  A brother antiquary, on reading this
passage, exclaimed, "How could Mr. Cole ever get through the
transcript of a Bishop's Registry, or a Chartulary, with Busy
never out of his lap!"-E.



Letter 217 To The Hon. H. S. Conway.
Strawberry Hill,, Sunday evening, May 6, 1781. (PAGE 275)

I supped With your Countess on Friday at Lord Frederick
Campbell's, where I heard of the relief of Gibraltar by Darby.
The Spanish fleet kept close in Cadiz: however, he lifted up his
leg, and just squirted contempt on them.  As he is disembarrassed
of his transports, I suppose their ships will scramble on shore
rather than fight.  Well, I shall be perfectly content with our
fleet coming back in a whole skin; it will be enough to have
outquixoted Don Quixote's own nation.  As I knew, your Countess
would write the next day, I waited till she was gone out of town
and would not have much to tell you--not that I have either; and
it is giving myself an air to pretend to know more at Twickenham
than she can at Henley.  Though it is a bitter northeast, I came
hither to-day to look at my lilacs, though `a la glace; and to
get from pharaoh, for which there is a rage.  I doted on it above
thirty years ago; but it is not decent to sit up all night now
with boys and girls.  My nephew, Lord Cholmondeley, the banker `a
la mode, has been demolished.  He and his associate, Sir
Willoughby Aston, went early t'other night to Brookcs's, before
Charles Fox and Fitzpatrick, who keep a bank there, were come;
but they soon arrived, attacked their rivals, broke their bank,
and won above four thousand pounds.  "There," said Fox, "so
should all usurpers be served!"  He did still better; for he sent
for his tradesmen, and paid as far as the money would go.  In the
mornings he continues his war on Lord North, but cannot break
that bank.  The court has carried a secret committee for India
affairs, and it is supposed that Rumbold is to be the sacrifice;
but as he is near as rich as Lord Clive, I conclude he will
escape by the same golden key.

I told you in my last that Tonton was arrived.  I brought him
this morning to take possession of his new villa, but his
installation has not been at all pacific.  As he has already
found out that he may be as despotic as at Saint Joseph's, he
began with exiling my beautiful little cat; upon which, however,
we shall not quite agree.  He then flew at one of my dogs,(426)
who returned it by biting his foot till it bled, but was severely
beaten for it.  I immediately rung for Margaret,(427) to dress
his foot: but in the midst of my tribulation could not keep my
countenance; for she cried, "Poor little thing, he does not
understand my language!"  I hope she will not recollect too that
he is a Papist!

Berkeley Square, Tuesday, May 8.

I came before dinner, and found your long letter of the 3d.  You
have mistaken Tonton's sex, who is a cavalier, and a little of
the mousquetaire still; but if I do not correct his vivacities,
at least I shall not encourage them like my dear old friend.

You say nothing of your health; therefore, I trust it is quite
re-established: my own is most flourishing for me.  They say the
Parliament will rise by the birthday; not that it seems to be any
grievance or confinement to any body.  I hope you will soon come
and enjoy a quiet summer under the laurels of your own
conscience.  They are at least as spreading as any body's else;
and the soil will preserve their verdure for ever.  Methinks we
western powers might as well make peace. since we make war so
clumsily.  Yet I doubt the awkwardness of our enemies will not
have brought down our stomach.  Well, I wish for the sake of
mankind there was an end of their sufferings!  Even spectators
are not amused--the whole war has passed like the riotous murmurs
of the upper gallery before the play begins--they have pelted the
candle-snuffers, the stage has been swept, the music has played,
people have taken their places--but the deuce a bit of any
performance!--And when folks go home, they will have seen nothing
but a farce, that has cost fifty times more than the best
tragedy!

(426) This does not quite accord with the favourable character
given of Tonton by Madame du Deffand's secretary, Wyrt, in a
letter to Walpole:--"Je garderai," he says, "Tonton jusqu'au
d`epart de M. Thomas Walpole; j'en ai le plus grand soin.  Il est
tr`es doux; il ne mord personne; il n'`etait m`echant qu'aupr`es
de sa maitresse."-E.

(427) Mr. Walpole's housekeeper.



Letter 218 To The Hon. H. S. Conway.
Berkeley Square, May 28, 1781. (PAGE 277)

This letter, like an embarkation, will not set out till it has
gotten its complement; but I begin it, as I have just received
your second letter.  I wrote to you two days ago, and did not
mean to complain; for you certainly cannot have variety of matter
in your sequestered isle: and since you do not disdain trifling
news, this good town, that furnishes nothing else, at least
produces weeds, which shoot up in spite of the Scotch thistles,
that have choked all good fruits.  I do not know what Lady Craven
designs to do with her play; I hope, act it only in private; for
her other was murdered, and the audience did not exert the least
gallantry to so pretty an authoress, though she gave them so fair
an opportunity.  For my own play, I was going to publish it in my
own defence, as a spurious edition was advertised here, besides
one in Ireland.  My advertisement has overlaid the former for the
present, and that tempts me to suppress mine, as I have a
thorough aversion to its appearance.  Still, I think I shall
produce it in the dead of summer, that it may be forgotten by
winter; for I could not bear having it the subject of
conversation in a full town.  It is printed; so I can let it
steal out in the midst of the first event that engrosses the
public; and as it is not quite a novelty, I have no fear but it
will be stillborn, if it is twin with any babe that squalls and
makes much noise.

At the same time with yours I received a letter from another
cousin at Paris, who tells me Necker is on the verge, and in the
postscript says, he has actually resigned.  I heard so a few days
ago; but this is a full confirmation.  Do you remember a
conversation at your house, at supper, in which a friend of yours
spoke, very unfavourably of Necker, and seemed to wish his fall?
In my own opinion they are much in the wrong.  It is true, Necker
laboured with all his shoulders to restore their finances; yet I
am persuaded that his attention to that great object made him
clog all their military operations.  They will pay dearer for
money; but money they will have: nor is it so dear to them, for,
when they have gotten it, they have only not to pay.  A Monsieur
Joly de Fleury is comptroller-general.  I know nothing of him;
but as they change so often, some able man will prove minister at
last--and there they will have the advantage again.

Lord Cornwallis's courier, Mr. Broderick, is not yet arrived; so
you are a little precipitate in thinking America so much nearer
to be subdued, which you have often swallowed up as if you were a
minister; and yet, methinks, that era has been so frequently put
off, that I wonder you are not cured of being sanguine--or
rather, of believing the magnificent lies that every trifling
advantage gives birth to.  If a quarter of the Americans had
joined the Royalists, that have been said to join, all the
colonies would not hold them.  But, at least, they have been like
the trick of kings and queens at cards; where one Of two goes
back every turn to fetch another.  However, this Is only for
conversation for the moment.  With such aversion to disputation,
I have no zeal for making converts to my own opinions not even on
points that touch me nearer.

Thursday, May 31.

If you see the papers, you will find that there was a warm debate
yesterday on a fresh proposal from Hartley(428) for pacification
with America; in which the ministers were roundly reproached with
their boasts of the returning zeal of the colonies and which,
though it ought by their own accounts to be so much nearer
Complete, they could not maintain to be at all effectual; though
even yesterday a report was revived of a second victory of Lord
Cornwallis.  This debate prevented another on the Marriage-bill,
which Charles Fox wants to get repealed, and which he told me he
was going to labour.  I mention this from the circumstance of the
moment when he told ne so. I had been to see if Lady Ailesbury
was come to town; as I came up St. James's-street, I saw a cart
and porters at Charles's door; coppers and old chests of drawers
loading.  In short, his success at faro has awakened his host of
creditors; but unless his bank had swelled to the size of the
bank of England, it could not have yielded a sop apiece for each.
Epsom, too, had been unpropitious; and One creditor has actually
seized and carried off his goods, which did not seem worth
removing.  As I returned full of this scene, whom should I find
sauntering by my own door but Charles?  He came up and talked to
me at the coach-window, on the Marriage-bill(429) With as much
sang-froid as if he knew nothing of what had happened.  I have no
admiration for insensibility to one's own faults, especially when
committed out of vanity.  Perhaps the whole philosophy consisted
in the commission.  If you could have been as much to blame, the
last thing you would bear well would be your own reflections.
The more marvellous Fox's parts are, the more one is provoked at
his follies, which comfort so many rascals and blockheads, and
make all that is admirable and amiable in him only matter of
regret to those who like him as I do.

I did intend to settle at Strawberry on Sunday; but must return
on Thursday, for a party made at Marlborough-house for Princess
Amelia.  I am continually tempted to retire entirely; and should,
if I did not see how very unfit English tempers are for living
quite out of the world.  We grow abominably peevish and severe on
others, if we are not constantly rubbed against and polished by
them.  I need not name friends and relations of yours and mine as
instances.  My prophecy on the short reign of faro is verified
already.  The bankers find that all the calculated advantages of
the game do not balance pinchbeck parolis and debts of honourable
women.  The bankers, I think, might have had a previous and more
generous reason, the very bad air of holding a bank:--but this
country is as hardened against the petite morale, as against the
greater.--What should I think of the world if I quitted it
entirely?

(428) On the preceding day, Mr. Hartley had moved for leave to
bring in a bill to invest the Crown with sufficient power to
treat upon the means of restoring peace with the provinces of
north America.  It was Negatived by 106 against 72.-E.

(429) On the 7th of June Mr. Fox moved for leave to bring in a
bill to amend the act of the 26th of George the Second, for
preventing clandestine marriages.  The bill passed the Commons,
but was rejected by the Lords.-E.



Letter 219 To The Hon. H. S. Conway.
Strawberry Hill, June 3, 1781. (PAGE 279)

You know I have more philosophy about you than courage, yet for
once I have been very brave.  There was an article in the papers
last week that said, a letter from Jersey mentioned apprehensions
of being attacked by four thousand French.  Do you know that I
treated the paragraph with scorn?  No, no; I am not afraid for
your island, when you are at home in it, and have had time to
fortify it, and have sufficient force.  No, no; it will not be
surprised when you are there, and when our fleet is returned, and
Digby before Brest.  However, with all my valour, I could not
help going to your brother to ask a few questions; but he had
heard of no such letter.  The French would be foolish indeed if
they ran their heads a third time against your rocks, when
watched by the most vigilant of all governors.  Your nephew
George(430) is arrived with the fleet: my door opened t'other
morning; I looked towards the common horizon of heads, but was a
foot and a half below any face.  The handsomest giant in the
world made but one step across my room, and seizing my hand, gave
it such a robust gripe that I squalled; for he crushed my poor
chalk-stones to powder.  When I had recovered from the pain of
his friendly salute, I said, "It must be George Conway! and yet,
is it possible?  Why, it is not fifteen months ago since you was
but six feet high!" In a word, he is within an inch of Robert and
Edward, with larger limbs; almost as handsome as Hugh, with all
the bloom of youth; and, in short, another of those comely sons
of Anak, the breed of which your brother and Lady Hertford have
piously restored for the comfort of the daughters of Sion.  He is
delighted with having tapped his warfare with the siege of
Gibraltar, and burns to stride to America.  The town, he says, is
totally destroyed, and between two and three hundred persons were
killed.--Well, it is a pity Lady Hertford has done breeding: we
shall want such a race to repeople even the ruins we do not lose!
The rising generation does give one some hopes.  I confine myself
to some of this year's birds.  The young William Pitt(431) has
again displayed paternal oratory.  The other day, on the
commission of accounts, he answered Lord North, and tore him limb
from limb.  If Charles Fox could feel, one should Think such a
rival, with an unspotted character, would rouse him.  What, if a
Pitt and Fox should again be rivals! A still newer orator has
appeared in the India business, a Mr. Bankes,(432) and against
Lord North too; and with a merit that the very last crop of
orators left out of their rubric--modesty.  As young Pitt is
modest too, one would hope some genuine English may revive!(433)

Tuesday, June 5.

This is the season of opening my cake-house.  I have chosen a bad
spot, if I meant to retire; and calculated ill, when I made it a
puppet-show.  Last week we had two or three mastiff-days; for
they were fiercer than our common dog-days.  It is cooled again;
but rain is as great a rarity as in Egypt; and father Thames is
so far from being a Nile, that he is dying for thirst himself.
But it would be prudent to reserve paragraphs of weather till
people are gone out of town; for then I can have little to send
you else from hence.

Berkeley Square, June 6.

As soon as I came to town to-day Le Texier called on me, and told
me he has miscarried of Pygmalion.  The expense would have
mounted to 150 pounds and he could get but sixty subscribers at a
guinea apiece.  I am glad his experience and success have taught
him thrift.  I did not expect it.  Sheridan had a heavier
miscarriage last night.  The two Vestris had imagined a f`ete;
and, concluding that whatever they designed would captivate the
town and its purses, were at the expense of 1200 pounds and,
distributing tickets at two guineas apiece, disposed of not two
hundred.  It ended in a bad opera, that began three hours later
than usual, and at quadruple the price.  There were bushels of
dead flowers, lamps, country dances--and a cold supper.  Yet they
are not abused as poor Le Texier was last year.

June 8.

I conclude my letter, and I hope our present correspondence, very
agreeably; for your brother told me last night, that you have
written to Lord Hillsborough for leave to return.  If all our
governors could leave their dominions in as good plight, it were
lucky.  Your brother owned, what the Gazette with all its
circumstances cannot conceal, that Lord Cornwallis's triumphs
have but increased our losses, without leaving any hopes. I am
told that his army, which when he parted from Clinton amounted to
seventeen thousand men, does not now contain above as many
hundred, except the detachments.  The Gazette, to my sorrow and
your greater sorrow, speaks of Colonel O'Hara having received two
dangerous wounds.  Princess Amelia was at Marlborough-house last
night, and played at faro till twelve o'clock.  There ends the
winter campaign!  I go to Strawberry-hill to-morrow; and I hope,
a l'Irlandaise, that the next letter I write to you will be not
to write to you any more.

(430) Lord George Seymour Conway, seventh son of Francis, first
Earl and Marquis of Hertford; born 1763.-E.

(431) The young William Pitt," afterwards, as Walpole
anticipated, the proud rival of Charles Fox, and for so long a
period the prime-minister of England, delivered his maiden speech
in the House of Commons, on the 26th of February, in favour of
Mr. Burke's bill for an economical reform in the civil list.
"Never," says his preceptor, Bishop Tomline, "were higher
expectations formed of any person upon his first coming into
Parliament, and never were expectations more completely answered.
They were, indeed, much more than answered; such were the fluency
and accuracy of language, such the perspicuity of arrangement,
and such the closeness of reasoning, and manly and dignified
elocution,--generally, even in a much less degree, the fruits of
long habit and experience,--that it could scarcely be believed to
be the first speech of a young man not yet two-and-twenty.  On
the following day, knowing my anxiety upon every subject which
related to him, Mr. Pitt, with his accustomed kindness, wrote to
me at Cambridge, to inform me that 'he had heard his own voice in
the House of Commons,' and modestly expressed his satisfaction at
the manner in which his first attempt at parliamentary speaking
had been received."-E.

(432) Henry Bankes, Esq. of Kingston Hall.  He represented
Corfe-Castle from 1780 to 1826, and the county of Dorset from
that time until 1831.  In 1818, he published "The Civil and
Constitutional History of Rome, from the Foundation to the Age of
Augustus," in two volumes, 8vo; and died in 1834.-E.

(433) Mr. Wilberforce, in a letter to a friend, of the 9th of
June, says--"The papers will have informed you how Mr. William
Pitt, second son of the late Lord Chatham has distinguished
himself: he comes out as his father did, a ready-made orator, and
I doubt not but that I shall one day or other, see him the first
man in the country." Life, vol. 1. p. 22.-E.



Letter 220 To The Earl Of Strafford.
Strawberry Hill, June 13, 1781. (PAGE 281)

It was very kind, my dear lord, to recollect me so soon: I wish I
Could return it by amusing you; but here I know nothing, and
suppose it is owing to age that even in town I do not find the
transactions of the world very entertaining.  One must sit up all
night to see or hear any thing; and if the town intends to do any
thing, they never begin to do it till next day.  Mr. Conway will
certainly be here the end of this month, having thoroughly
secured his island from surprise, and it is not liable to be
taken any other way.  I wish he was governor of this bigger one
too, which does not seem quite so well guaranteed.

Your lordship will wonder at a visit I had yesterday: it was from
Mr. Storer, who has passed a day and night here.  It was not from
my being a fellow-scholar of Vestris, but from his being turned
antiquary; the last passion I should have thought a macaroni
would have taken.  I am as proud of such a disciple as of having
converted Dicky Bateman from a Chinese to a Goth.  Though he was
the founder of the Sharawadgi taste in England, I preached so
effectually that his every pagoda took the veil.  The Methodists
say, one must have been very wicked before one can be of the
elect--yet is that extreme more distant from the ton, which avows
knowing and liking nothing but the fashion of the instant, to
studying what were the modes of five hundred years ago? I hope
this conversion will not ruin Mr. Storer's fortune under the Lord
Lieutenant of Ireland.  How his Irish majesty will be shocked
when he asks how large Prince Boothby's shoe-buckles are grown,
to be answered, he does not know, but that Charles Brandon's
cod-piece at the last birthday had three yards of velvet in it!
and that the Duchess of Buckingham thrust out her chin two inches
farther than ever in admiration of it!  and that the Marchioness
of Dorset had put out her jaw by endeavouring to imitate her!

We have at last had some rains, which I hope extended to
Yorkshire, and that your lordship has found Wentworth Castle in
the bloom of verdure.  I always, as in duty bound, wish
prosperity to every body and every thing there, and am your
lordship's ever devoted and grateful humble servant.



Letter 221To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Strawberry Hill, June 16, 1781. (PAGE 282)

Your last account of yourself was so indifferent, that I am
impatient for a better: pray send me a much better.

I know little in your way but that Sir Richard Worseley has just
published a History of the Isle of Wight, with many views poorly
done enough.(434)  Mr. Bull(435) is honouring me, at least my
Anecdotes of Painting, exceedingly.  He has let every page into a
pompous sheet, and is adding every print of portrait, building,
etc. that I mention, and that he can get, and specimens of all
our engravers.  It will make eight magnificent folios, and be a
most valuable body of our arts.  Nichols the printer has
published a new Life of Hogarth,(436) of near two hundred pages-
-many more, in truth, than it required: chiefly it is the life of
his works, containing all the variations, and notices of any
persons whom he had in view.  I cannot say there are discoveries
of many prints which I have not mentioned, though I hear Mr.
Gulston(437) says he has fifteen such; but I suppose he only
fancies so. Mr. Nichols says our printsellers are already adding
Hogarth's name to several spurious.  Mr. Stevens, I hear, has
been allowed to ransack Mrs. Hogarth's house for obsolete and
unfinished plates, which are to be completed and published.
Though she was not pleased with my account of her husband, and
seems by these transactions to have encouraged the second, I
assure you I have much more reason to be satisfied than she has,
the editor or editors being much civiller to living me than to
dead Hogarth--yet I should not have complained.  Every body has
the same right to speak their sentiments.  Nay, in general, I
have gentler treatment than I expected, and I think the world and
I part good friends.

I am now setting about the completion of my AEdes Strawberrianae.
A painter is to come hither on Monday to make a drawing of the
Tribune, and finish T. Sandby's fine view of the gallery, to
which I could never get him to put the last hand.  They will Then
be engraved with a few of the chimney-pieces, which will complete
the plates.  I must add an appendix of curiosities, purchased or
acquired since the Catalogue was printed.  This will be awkward,
but I cannot afford to throw away an hundred copies.  I shall
take care if I can that Mr. Gough does not get fresh intelligence
from my engravers, or he will advertise my supplement, before the
book appears.  I do not think it was very civil to publish such
private intelligence, to which he had no right without my leave;
but every body seems to think he may do what is good in his own
eyes.  I saw the other day, in a collection of seats (exquisitely
engraved), a very rude insult on the Duke of Devonshire.  The
designer went to draw a view of Chiswick, without asking leave,
and was not hindered, for he has given it; but he says he was
treated illiberally, the house not being shown without tickets,
which he not only censures, but calls a singularity, though a
frequent practice in other places, and practised there to my
knowledge for these thirty years: so every body is to come into
your house if he pleases, draw it whether you please or not, and
by the same rule, I suppose, put any thing into his pockets that
he likes.  I do know, by experience, what a grievance it is to
have a house worth being seen, and though I submit in consequence
to great inconveniences, they do not save me from many
rudenesses.  Mr. Southcote(438)  was forced to shut up his
garden, for the savages who came as connoisseurs scribbled a
thousand brutalities, in the buildings, upon his religion.  I
myself, at Canons, saw a beautiful table of oriental alabaster
that had been split in two by a buck in boots jumping up
backwards to sit upon it.

I have placed the oaken head Of Henry the Third over the middle
arch of the armoury.  Pray tell me what the church of Barnwell,
near Oundle, was, which his Majesty endowed, and whence his head
came.  Dear Sir, Yours most sincerely.

(434) Sir Richard Worsley is better known by his splendid work,
the "Museum Worsleianum; or, a Collection of antique
Basso-relievos, Bustos, Statues, and Gems; with views of places
in the Levant, taken on the spot, in the years 1785-6-7;" in two
volumes, folio.  Sir Richard sat many years in Parliament for the
borough of Newport, and was governor of the Isle of Wight, where
he died in 1805.-E.

(435) Richard Bull, Esq. a famous collector of portraits.-E.

(436) " Biographical Anecdotes of William Hogarth; and a
Catalogue of his Works, chronologically arranged; with occasional
Remarks."-E.

(437) Joseph Gulston, Esq. also an eminent portrait collector.-E.

(438) Philip Southcote, Esq. of Wooburn Farm, Chertsey: one of
the first places improved according to the principles of modern
gardening.-E.



Letter 222 To The Earl Of Charlemont.(439)
Strawberry Hill, July 1, 1781. (PAGE 284)

I should have been exceedingly flattered, my lord, by receiving a
present from your lordship, which at once proves that I retain a
place in your lordship's memory, and you think me worthy of
reading what you like.  I could not wait to give your lordship a
thousand thanks for so kind a mark of your esteem till I had done
through the volume, which I may venture to say I shall admire, as
I find it contains some pieces which I had seen, and did admire,
without knowing their author.  That approbation was quite
impartial.  Perhaps my future judgment of the rest will be not a
little prejudiced, and yet on good foundation; for if Mr.
Preston(440) has retained my suffrage in his favour by dedicating
his poems to your lordship, it must at least be allowed that I am
biassed by evidence of his taste.  He would not possess the
honour of your friendship unless he deserved it; and, as he knows
you, he would not have ventured to prefix your name, my lord, to
poems that did not deserve your patronage.  I dare to say they
will meet the approbation of better judges than I can pretend to
be. I have the honour to be, with the greatest respect, esteem,
and gratitude.

(439) Now first collected.

(440) William Preston, Esq. a young Irish gentleman, of whom Lord
Charlemont had become the friend and patron.  He afterwards
published "Thoughts on Lyric Poetry, with an Ode to the Moon;" an
"essay on Ridicule, Wit, and Humour;" and a translation of the
Argonautics of Appollonius Rhodius. He died in 1807.-E.



Letter 223 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Strawberry Hill, July 7, 1781. (PAGE 284)

My good Sir, you forget that I have a cousin, eldest son of Lord
Walpole, and of a marriageable age, who has the same Christian
name as I.  The Miss Churchill he has married is my niece, second
daughter of my sister, Lady Mary Churchill; so that if I were in
my dotage, I must have looked out for another bride--in short, I
hope you will have no occasion to wish me joy of any egregious
folly. I do congratulate you on your better health, and on the
Duke of Rutland's civilities to you.  I am a little surprised at
his brother, who is a seaman, having a propensity to divinity,
and wonder you object to it; the church navigant would be an
extension of its power.  As to orthodoxy, excuse me if I think it
means nothing at all but every man's own opinion.  Were every man
to define his faith, I am persuaded that no two men are or ever
were exactly of the same opinion in all points and as men are
more angry at others for differing with them on a single point,
than satisfied with their Concurrence in all others, each would
deem every body else a heretic.  Old or new Opinions are exactly
of the same authority, for every opinion must have been new when
first started; and no man has nor ever had more right than
another to dictate, unless inspired.  St. Peter and St. Paul
disagreed from the earliest time, and who can be sure which was
in the right? and if one of the apostles was in the wrong, who
may not be mistaken?  When you will tell me which was the
orthodox, and which the heterodox apostle, I will allow that you
know what orthodoxy is.(441)  You and I are perhaps the two
persons who agree the best with very different ways of thinking;
and perhaps the reason is, that we have a mutual esteem for each
other's sincerity, and, from an experience of more than forty
years, are persuaded that neither of us has any interested
views.(442)  For my own part, I confess honestly that I am far
from having the same charity for those whom I suspect of
mercenary views.  If Dr. Butler, when a private clergyman, wrote
Whig pamphlets, and when Bishop of Oxford preaches Tory sermons,
I should not tell him that he does not know what orthodoxy is,
but I am convinced he does not care what it is.  The Duke of
Rutland seems much more liberal than Butler or I, when he is so
civil to you, though you voted against his brother.  I am not
acquainted with his grace, but I respect his behaviour; he is
above prejudices.

The story of poor Mr. Cotton(443) is shocking, whichever way it
happened, but most probably it was accident.

I am ashamed at the price of my book, though not my fault; but I
have so often been guilty myself of giving ridiculous prices for
rarities, though of no intrinsic value, that I must not condemn
the same folly in others.  Every thing tells me how silly I am! I
pretend to reason, and yet am a virtuoso! Why should I presume
that, at sixty-four, I am too wise to marry?  and was you, who
know so many of my weaknesses, in the wrong to suspect me of one
more?  Oh! no, my good friend: nor do I see any thing in your
belief of it, but the kindness with which you wish me felicity on
the occasion.  I heartily thank you for it, and am most cordially
yours.

(441) On Lord Sandwich's observing that he did not know the
difference between orthodoxy and heterodoxy, Bishop Warburton is
said to have replied, "Orthodoxy, my lord, is my doxy, and
heterodoxy is another man's doxy."-E.

(442) Cole, in a letter to 'Mr.  Gough, of the 10th of August,
says--"Mr. Walpole and myself are as opposite in political
matters as possible; yet we continue friends.  Your political and
religious opinions possibly may be as dissimilar; yet I hope we
shall all meet in a better world, and be happy."-E.

(443) A son of Sir John Cotton, who was accidentally killed
whilst shooting in his father's Woods.-E.



Letter 224 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Strawberry Hill, July 26, 1781. (PAGE 286)

I will not delay thanking you, dear Sir, for a second letter,
which you wrote out of kindness, though I have time but to say a
word, having my house full of company.  I think I have somewhere
or other mentioned the "Robertus Comentarius," (probably on some
former information from you, which YOU never forget to give me,)
at least the name sounds familiar to me; but just now I cannot
consult my papers or books from the impediment of my guests.  As
I am actually preparing a new edition of my Anecdotes, I shall
very soon have occasion to search.  I am sorry to hear you
complain of the gout, but trust It will be a short parenthesis.
Yours most gratefully.



Letter 225 To The Earl Of Strafford.
Strawberry Hill, August 31, 1781. (page 286)

Your lordship's too friendly partiality sees talents in me which
I am sure I do not possess.  With all my desire of amusing you,
and with all my sense of gratitude for your long and unalterable
goodness, it is quite impossible to send you an entertaining
letter from hence.  The insipidity of my life, that is passed
with a few old people that are wearing out like myself, after
surviving so many of my acquaintance, can furnish no matter of
correspondence.  What few novelties I hear, come stale, and not
till they have been hashed in the newspapers and though we are
engaged in such big and wide wars, they produce no striking
events, nor furnish any thing but regrets for the lives and
millions we fling away to no purpose!  One cannot divert when one
can only compute, nor extract entertainment from prophecies that
there is no reason to colour favourably.  We have, indeed,
foretold success for seven years together, but debts and taxes
have been the sole completion.

If one turns to private life, what is there to furnish pleasing
topics?  Dissipation, without object, pleasure, or genius, is the
only colour of the times.  One hears every day of somebody
undone.  but can we or they tell how, except when it is by the
most expeditious of all means, gaming? And now, even the loss of
an hundred thousand pounds is not rare enough to be surprising.
One may stare or growl, but cannot relate any thing that is worth
hearing.  I do not love to censure a younger age; but in good
truth, they neither amuse me nor enable me to amuse others.

The pleasantest event I know happened to myself last Sunday
morning when General Conway very unexpectedly walked in as I was
at breakfast, in his way to Park-place.  He looks as well in
health and spirits as ever I saw him; and though he stayed but
half an hour, I was perfectly content, as he is at home.

I am glad your lordship likes the fourth book of The Garden,(444)
which is admirably coloured.  The version of Fresnoy I think the
finest translation I ever saw.  It is a most beautiful poem,
extracted from as dry and prosaic a parcel of verses as could be
put together: Mr.  Mason has gilded lead, and burnished it
highly.  Lord and Lady Harcourt I should think would make him a
visit, and I hope, for their sakes, will visit Wentworth Castle.
As they both have taste, I should be sorry they did not see the
perfectest specimen of architecture I know.

Mrs. Damer certainly goes abroad this winter.  I am glad of it
for every reason but her absence.  I am certain it will be
essential to her health; and she has so eminently a classic
genius, and is herself so superior an artist, that I enjoy the
pleasure she will have in visiting Italy.

As your lordship has honoured all the productions of my press
with your acceptance, I venture to enclose the last, which I
printed to oblige the Lucans.  There are many beautiful and
poetic expressions in it.  A wedding to be sure, is neither a new
nor a promising subject, nor will outlast the favours: still I
think Mr. Jones's Ode(445) is uncommonly good for the occasion;
at least, if it does not much charm Lady Strafford and your
lordship, I know you will receive it kindly as a tribute from
Strawberry Hill, as every honour is due to you both from its
master.  Your devoted servant.

(444) The fourth book of Mason's "English Garden" had just made
its appearance.-E.

(445) Mr. afterwards Sir William, Jones's Ode on the marriage of
Lord Althorpe, afterwards Earl Spencer, with Miss Bingham.-E.



Letter 226 To The Hon. H. S. Conway.
Strawberry Hill, Sept. 16, 1781. (page 227)

I am not surprised that such a mind as yours cannot help
expressing gratitude: it would not be your mind, if it could
command that sensation as triumphantly as it does your passions.
Only remember that the expression is unnecessary.  I do know that
you feel the entire friendship I have for you; nor should I love
you so well if I was not persuaded of it.  There never was a
grain of any thing romantic in my friendship for you.  We loved
one another from children, and as so near relations; but my
friendship grew up with your virtues, which I admired though I
did not imitate.  We had scarce one in common but
disinterestedness.  Of the reverse we have both, I may say, been
so absolutely clear, that there is nothing so natural and easy as
the little moneyed transactions between us - and therefore,
knowing how perfectly indifferent I am upon that head, and
remembering the papers I showed you, and what I have said to you
when I saw you last, I am sure you will have the complaisance
never to mention thanks more.-Now, to answer your questions.

As to coming to you, as that feu gr`egeois Lord George Gordon has
given up the election, to my great joy, I can come to you on
Sunday next.  It is true, I had rather you visited your regiment
first, for this reason: I expect summons to Nuneham every day;
and besides, having never loved two journeys instead of one, I
grow more covetous of my time, as I have little left, and
therefore had rather take Park-place, going and coming, on my way
to Lord Harcourt.

I don't know a word of news, public or private.  I am deep in my
dear old friend's papers.(446)  There are some very delectable;
and though I believe, nay, know, I have not quite all, there are
many which I almost wonder, after the little delicacy they(447)
have shown, ever arrived to my hands.  I dare to say they will
not be quite so just to the public; for though I consented that
the correspondence with Voltaire should be given to the editors
of his works, I am persuaded that there are many passages at
least which they will suppress, as very contemptuous to his chief
votaries: I mean, of the votaries to his sentiments; for, like
other heresiarchs, he despised his tools.  If I live to see the
edition, it Will divert me to collate it with what I have in my
hands.

You are the person in the world the fittest to encounter the
meeting you mention for the choice of a bridge.(448)  You have
temper and patience enough to bear with fools and false taste.
I, so unlike you, have learned some patience with both sorts too,
but by a more summary method than by waiting to instil reason
into them.  Mine is only by leaving them to their own vagaries,
and by despairing that sense and taste should ever extend
themselves.  Adieu!

P. S. In 'Voltaire's letters are some bitter traits on the King
of Prussia, which, as he is defender of their no-faith, I
conclude will be ray`es too.

(446) Madame du Deffand, who died in September 1780, and left all
her papers to Mr. Walpole.  See ant`e, p. 256, letter 199.-E.

(447) The executors of Madame du Deffand; whom Walpole suspected
of having abstracted some of her papers.-E.

(448) The bridge over the Thames at Henley, to the singular
beauty of which the good taste of mr. Conway materially
contributed.



Letter 227 To John Nichols, Esq.
Strawberry Hill, Oct. 31, 1781. (page 288)

I am glad to hear, Sir, that your account of Hogarth calls for
another edition; and I am very sensible of your great civility in
offering to change any passages that criticise my own work.
Though I am much obliged by the offer, I should blush to myself
if I even wished for that complaisance.  Good God! Sir, what am I
that I should be offended at or above criticism or correction?  I
do not know who ought to be; I am sure, no author.  I am a
private man, of no consequence, and at best an author of very
moderate abilities.  In a work that comprehends so much biography
as my Anecdotes of Painting, it would have been impossible, even
with much more diligence than I employed, not to make numberless
mistakes.  It is kind to me to point out those errors; to the
world it is justice.  Nor have i a reason to be displeased even
with the manner.  I do remember that in many passages you have
been very civil to me.  I do not recollect any harsh phrases.  As
my work is partly critical as well as biographic, there too I had
no reason or right to expect deference to my opinions.
Criticism, I doubt, has no very certain rule to go by; in matters
of taste it is a still more vague and arbitrary science.

As I am very sincere, Sir, in what I say, I will with the same
integrity own, that in one or two places of your book I think the
criticisms on me are not well founded.  For instance; in p. 37 I
am told that Hogarth did not deserve the compliment I pay him of
not descending to the indelicacy of the Flemish and Dutch
painters.  It is very true that you have produced some instances,
to which I had not adverted, where he has been guilty of the same
fault, though I think not in all you allege, nor to the degree
alleged: in some I think the humour compensates for the
indelicacy, which is never the case with the Dutch; and in one
particular I think it is a merit,--I mean in the burlesque Paul
before Felix,--for there, Sir, you should recollect that Hogarth
himself meant to satirize, not to imitate the painters of Holland
and Flanders.

You have also instanced, Sir, many more portraits in his satiric
prints than come within my defence of him as not being a personal
satirist; but in those too, with submission, I think you have
gone too far; as, though you have cited portraits, are they all
satiric?  Sir John Gouson is the image of an active magistrate
identified; but it is not ridiculous, unless to be an active
magistrate is being ridiculous.  Mr. Pine,(449) I think you
allow, desired to sit for the fat friar in the Gates of Calais--
certainly not with a view to being turned into derision.

With regard to the bloody fingers of Sigismunda, you Say, Sir,
that my memory must have failed me, as you affirm that they are
unstained with blood.  Forgive me if I say that I am positive
they were so originally.  I saw them so, and have often mentioned
that fact.  Recollect, Sir, that you yourself allow, p. 46, in
the note, that the picture was continually "altered, upon the
criticism of one connoisseur or another." May not my memory be
more faithful about so striking a circumstance than the memory of
another who would engage to recollect all the changes that
remarkable picture underwent?

I should be very happy, Sir, if I could contribute any additional
lights to your new publication; indeed, what additional lights I
have gained are from your work, which has furnished me with many.
I am going to publish a new edition of all the five volumes of my
Anecdotes of Painting, in which I shall certainly insert what I
have gathered from you.  This edition will be in five thin
octaves, without cuts, to make the purchase easy to artists and
such as cannot afford the quartos, which are grown so
extravagantly dear, that I am ashamed of it.  Being published too
at different periods, and being many of them cut to pieces for
the heads, since the race for portraits has been carried so far,
it is very rare to meet with a complete set.  My corrected copy
is now in the printer's hands, except the last volume, in which
are my additions to Hogarth from your list, and perhaps one or
two more but that volume also I have left in town, though not at
the printer's, as, to complete it, I must wait for his new works,
which Mrs. Hogarth is to publish.  When I am settled in town,
Sir, I shall be very ready, if you please to call on me in
Berkeley Square, to communicate any additions I have made to my
account of Hogarth.

(449) John Pine the artist, who published "The Procession and
Ceremonies at the Installation of the Knights of the Bath, 17th
of June, 1725;" folio, 1730; and, in 1739, "The Tapestry Hangings
of the House of Lords," etc. sat for the Fat Friar in Hogarth's
Gates of Calais, and received from that circumstance the name of
"Friar Pine," which he retained till his death.  E.



Letter 228 To Robert Jephson, Esq.(450)
Berkeley Square, Nov. 7. 1781. (page 290)

Yesterday, Sir, I received the favour of your letter with the
inclosed prologue,(451) and am extremely pleased with it; not
only as it omits mention of me, for which I give you my warmest
thanks, but as a composition.  The thoughts are just and happily
expressed; and the conclusion is so lively and well conceived,
that Mr. Harris, to whom I carried it this morning, thinks it
will have great effect.  We are very sorry you have not sent us
an epilogue too; but, before I touch on that, I will be more
regular in my details.  Miss Younge has accepted the part very
gracefully; and by a letter I have received from her, in answer
to mine, will, I flatter myself, take care to do justice to it.
Nay, she is so zealous, that Mr. Harris tells me she has taken
great pains with the young person who is to play the daughter,
but whose name I cannot at this moment recollect.(452)

I must now confess that I have been again alarmed.  I had a
message from Mr. Harris on Saturday last to tell me that the
performers had been so alert, and were so ready with their parts,
and the many disappointments that had happened this season had
been so prejudicial to him, that it would be easy and necessary
to bring out your play next Saturday the 10th, and desired to
have the prologue and epilogue.  This precipitation made me
apprehend that justice would not be done to your tragedy.  Still
I did not dare to remonstrate; nor would venture to damp an
ardour which I could not expect to excite again.  Instead of
objecting to his haste, I only said I had not received your
prologue and epilogue, but had written for them and expected them
every Minute, though, as it depended on winds, one could never be
sure.  I trusted to accidents for delay; at least I thought I
could contrive some, without seeming to combat what he thought
for his interest.

I have not been mistaken.  On receiving your prologue yesterday,
I came to town to-day and carried it to him, to show him I lost
no time.  He told me Mr. Henderson was not enough recovered, but
he hoped would be well enough to bring out the play on Saturday
se'nnight.  That he had had a rough rehearsal yesterday morning,
with which he had been charmed; and was persuaded, and that the
performers think so too. that your play will have great effect.
All this made me very easy.  There is to be a regular rehearsal
on Saturday, for which I shall stay in town on purpose; and, if I
find the performers perfect, I think there will be no objection
to its appearance on Saturday se'nnight.  I shall rather prefer
that day to a later; as, the Parliament not being met, it will
have a week's run before politics interfere.

Now, Sir, for the epilogue.  I have taken the liberty of desiring
Mr. Harris to have one prepared, in case yours should not arrive
in time.  It is a compliment to him, (I do not mean that he will
write it himself,) will interest him still more in the cause;
and, though he may not procure a very good one, a manager may
know better than we do what will suit the taste of the times.
The success of a play being previous, cannot be hurt by an
epilogue, though some plays have been saved; and if it be not a
good one, it will not affect you.  If you send us a good one,
though too late, it may be printed with the play.

I must act about the impression just the reverse of what I did
about the performance, and must beg you would commission some
friend to transact that affair; for I know nothing of the terms,
and should probably disserve you if I undertook the treaty with
the booksellers, nor should I have time to supervise the
correction of the press.  In truth, it is so disagreeable a
business, that I doubt I have given proofs at my own press of
being too negligent; and as I am actually at present reprinting
my Anecdotes of Painting, I have but too much business of that
sort on my hands.  You will forgive my saying this, especially
when you consider that my hands are very lame, ind that this
morning in Mr.  Harris's room, the right one shook so, that I was
forced to desire him to write a memorandum for me.

I think I have omitted nothing material.  Mr. Wroughton is to
play the Count.  I do not know who will speak the prologue;
probably not Mr. Henderson, as he has been so very ill: nor
should I be very earnest for it; for the Friar's is so central
and so laborious a part, that I should not wish to abate his
powers by any previous exertion.  Perhaps I refine too much, but
I own I think the non-appearance of a principal actor till his
part opens is an advantage.

I will only add that I must beg you will not talk of obligations
to me. You have at least overpaid me d'avance by the honour you
have done me in adopting the Castle of Otranto.

(450) Now first printed.

(451) To the tragedy of the Count of Narbonne.  See ant`e, p.
238, letter 184.-E.

(452) Miss Satchell.



Letter 229 To Robert Jephson, Esq.(453)
Strawberry Hill, Nov. 10, 1781. (page 292)

As I have been at the rehearsal of your tragedy to-day, Sir, I
must give you a short a(-count of it; though I am little able to
write, having a good deal of gout in my right hand, which would
have kept me away from any thing else, and made me hurry back
hither the moment it was over, lest I should be confined to town.
Mr. Malone, perhaps, who was at the playhouse too, may have
anticipated me; for I could not save the post to-night, nor will
this go till to-morrow.

Mr. Henderson is still too ill to attend, but hopes to be abroad
by Tuesday: Mr. Hull read his part very well.  Miss Younge is
perfectly mistress of her part, is pleased with it, and I think
will do it justice.  I never saw her play so ably.  Miss
Satchell, who is to play Adelaide, is exactly what she should be:
very young, pretty enough, natural and simple.  She has already
acted Juliet with success.  Her voice not only pleasing, but very
audible; and, which is much more rare, very articulate: she does
not gabble, as most young women do, even off the stage.  Mr.
Wroughton much exceeded my expectation. He enters warmly into his
part, and with thorough zeal.  Mr. Lewis was so very imperfect in
his part, that I cannot judge quite what he will do, for he could
not repeat two lines by heart; but he looked haughtily, and as he
pleased me in Percy, which is the same kind of character, I
promise myself he will succeed in this.

Very, very few lines will be omitted; and there will be one or
two verbal alterations to accommodate the disposition, but which
will not appear in the printed copies, of which Mr. Malone says
he will take the management.  As Mr. Harris and the players all
seemed zealous and in good humour, I will not contest some
trifles; and, indeed, they were not at all unreasonable.  I an)
to see the scenes on Friday, if I am able: and if Mr. Henderson
is well enough, the play will be performed on the 17th or
immediately after.  Some slight delays, which one cannot foresee,
may always happen.  In truth-, I little expected so much
readiness and compliance both in manager and actors; nor, from
all I have heard of the stage, could conceive such facilities.
>From the moment Mr. Harris consented to perform your play, there
has not been one instance of obstinacy or wrongheadedness
anywhere.  If the audience is as reasonable and just, you may,
Sir, promise yourself complete success.

(453) Now first printed.



Letter 230 To Robert Jephson, Esq.(454)
Strawberry Hill, Nov. 13, 1781. )page 293)

I have, this minute, Sir, received the corrected copy of your
tragedy, which is almost all I am able to say, for I have so much
gout in this hand, and it shakes so much, that I am scarce able
to manage my pen.  I will go to town if I can, and consult Mr.
Henderson on the alterations; though I confess I think it
dangerous to propose them so late before representation, which
the papers say again is to be on Saturday if Mr. Henderson is
well enough.  Mr. Malone shall have the corrected copy for
impression.

I own I cannot suspect that Mr. Sheridan will employ any
ungenerous arts against your play.  I have never heard any thing
to give me suspicions of his behaving unhandsomely; and as you
indulge my zeal and age a liberty of speaking like a friend, I
would beg you to suppress your sense of the too great
prerogatives of theatric monarchs.  I hope you will again and
again have occasion to court the power of their crowns; and,
therefore if not for your own, for the sake of the public, do not
declare war with them.  It has not been my practice to preach
slavery; but, while one deals with and depends on mimic
sovereigns, I would act policy, especially when by temporary
passive obedience one can really lay a lasting obligation on
one's country, which your plays really are.

I am glad you approve what I had previously undertaken, Mr.
Harris's procuring an epilogue; he told me on Saturday that he
should have one.  You are very happy in friends, Sir; which is
another proof of your merit.  Mr. Malone is not less zealous than
Mr. Tighe, to whom I beg my compliments.

(454) Now first printed.



Letter 231 To Robert Jephson, Esq.(455)
Berkeley Square, Nov. 18, 1781. (page 293)

As Mr. Malone undertook to give you an account, Sir, by last
night's post, of the great success of the tragedy, I did not
hasten home to write; but stayed at the theatre, to talk to Mr.
Harris and the actors, and learn what was said, besides the
general applause.  Indeed I never saw a more unprejudiced
audience, nor more attention.  There was not the slightest
symptom of disapprobation to any part, and the plaudit was loud
and long when given out again for Monday.  I mention these
circumstances in justification of Mr. Sheridan, to whom I never
spoke in MY life, but who certainly had not sent a single person
to hurt you.  The prologue was exceedingly liked; and, for
effect, no play ever produced more fears.  In the green-room I
found that Hortensia's sudden death was the only incident
disapproved; as we heard by intelligence from the pit; and it is
to be deliberated tomorrow whether it may not be preferable to
carry her off as in a swoon.  When there is Only SO slight an
objection, you cannot doubt of your full success.  It is
impossible to say how much justice Miss Younge did to your
writing.  She has shown herself' a great mistress of her
profession, mistress of dignity, passion, and of all the
sentiments you have put into her hands.  The applause given to
her description of Raymond's death lasted some minutes, and
recommenced; and her scene in the fourth act, after the Count's
ill-usage, was played in the highest perfection.  Mr. Henderson
was far better than I expected from his weakness, and from his
rehearsal yesterday, with which he was much discontented himself.
Mr. Wroughton was very animated, and played the part of the Count
much better than any man now on the stage would have done.  I
wish I could say Mr. Lewis satisfied me; and that poor child Miss
Satchell was very inferior to what she appeared at the
rehearsals, where the total silence and our nearness deceived us.
Her voice has no strength, nor is she yet at all mistress of the
stage.  I have begged Miss Younge to try what she can do with her
by Monday.  However, there is no danger to your play: it is fully
established.  I confess I am not only pleased on your account,
Sir, but on Mr. Harris's, as he has been very obliging to me.  I
am not likely to have any more intercourse with the stage; but I
shall be happy if I leave my interlude there by settling an amity
between you and Mr. Harris, whence I hope he will draw profit and
you more renown.

(455) Now first printed.



Letter 232 To The Hon. H. S. Conway.
Berkeley Square, Sunday morning, Nov. 18, 1781. (page 294)

I have been here again for three days, tending and nursing and
waiting on Mr. Jephson's play.  I have brought it into the world,
was well delivered of it, it can stand on its own legs--and I am
going back to My Own quiet hill, never likely to have any thing
more to do with theatres.  Indeed it has seemed strange to me,
who for these three or four years have not been so many times in
a playhouse, nr knew six of the actors by sight, to be at two
rehearsals, behind the scenes, in the green-room, and acquainted
with half the company.  The Count of Narbonne was played last
night with great applause, and without a single murmur of
disapprobation.  Miss Younge has charmed me.(456)  She played
with intelligence that was quite surprising.  The applause to one
of her speeches lasted a minute, and recommenced twice before the
play could go on.  I am sure you will be pleased with the conduct
and the easy beautiful language of the play, and struck with her
acting.

(456) In 1786, this celebrated actress was married to Mr. Pope,
the comedian.  She died in 1797, and was buried in Westminster
Abbey.-E.



Letter 233 To Robert Jephson, Esq.(457)
Strawberry Hill, Nov.  21, 1781. (page 295)

I have just received your two letters, Sir, and the epilogue,
which I am sorry came so late, as there are very pretty things in
it: but I believe it would be very improper to produce it now, as
the two others have been spoken.

I am sorry you are discontent with there being no standing figure
of Alphonso, and that I acquiesced in its being cumbent.  I did
certainly yield, and I think my reasons will justify me.  In the
first place, you seemed to have made a distinction between the
statue and the tomb; and, had both been represented, they would
have made a confusion.  But a more urgent reason for my
compliance was the shortness of the time, which did not allow the
preparation of an entire new scene, as I proposed last year and
this, nay, and mentioned it to Mr. Harris.  When I came to the
house to see the scene prepared, it was utterly impossible to
adjust an erect figure to it; nor, indeed, do I conceive, were
the scene disposed as you recommend, how Adelaide could be
stabbed behind the scenes.  As I never disguise the truth, I must
own,.-for I did think myself so much obliged to Mr. Harris,--that
I was unwilling to heap difficulties on him, when I did not think
they would hurt your piece.  I fortunately was not mistaken: the
entrance of Adelaide wounded had the utmost effect, and I believe
much greater than would have resulted from her being stabbed on
the stage.  In short, the success has been so complete, and both
your poetry and the conduct of the tragedy are so much and so
justly admired, that I flatter myself you will not blame me for
what has not produced the smallest inconvenience.  Both the
manager and the actors were tractable, I believe, beyond example;
and it is my nature to bear some contradiction, when it will
carry material points.  The very morning, the only morning, I had
to settle the disposition, I had another difficulty to
reconcile,-the competition of the two epilogues, which I was so
lucky as to compromise too.  I will say nothing of my being three
hours each time, on two several days, in a cold theatre with the
gout on me; and perhaps it was too natural to give up a few
points in order to get home, for which I ask your pardon.  Yet
the event shows that I have not injured you and if I was in one
instance impatient, I flatter myself that my solicitations to Mr.
Harris and Miss Younge, and the zeal I have shown to serve you,
will atone for my having in one moment thought of myself, and
then only when the reasons that weighed with me were so
plausible, that without a totally new scene, which the time would
not allow, I do not see how they could have been obviated.  Your
tragedy, Sir, has taken such a rank upon the stage, that one may
reasonably hope it will hereafter be represented with all the
decorations to your mind; and I admire it so truly, that I shall
be glad to have it conducted by an abler mechanist than your
obedient humble servant.

(457) Now first collected.



Letter 234 To The Earl Of Strafford.
Berkeley Square, Nov. 27, 1781. (page 296)

Each fresh mark of your lordship's kindness and friendship, calls
on me for thanks and an answer: every other reason would enjoin
me silence.  I not only grow so old, but the symptoms of age
increase so fast, that, as they advise me to keep out of the
world, that retirement makes me less fit to be informing or
entertaining.  Those philosophers who have sported on the verge
of the tomb, or they who have affected to sport in the same
situation, both tacitly implied that it was not out of their
thoughts; and however dear what we are going to leave may be, all
that is not particularly dear must cease to interest us much.  If
those reflections blend themselves with our gayest thoughts, must
not their hue grow more dusky when public misfortunes and
disgraces cast a general shade?(458)  The age, it is true, soon
emerges out of every gloom, and wantons as before.  But does not
that levity imprint a still deeper melancholy on those who do
think?  Have any of our calamities corrected us?  Are we not
revelling on the brink of the precipice? Does administration grow
more sage, or desire that we should grow more sober?  Are these
themes for letters, my dear lord! Can one repeat common news with
indifference, while our shame is writing for future history by
the pens of all our numerous enemies?  When did England see two
whole armies lay down their arms and surrender themselves
prisoners?  Can venal addresses efface such stigmas, that will be
recorded in every country in Europe?  Or will such disgraces have
no consequences?  Is not America lost to us?  Shall we offer up
more human victims to the demon of obstinacy; and shall we tax
ourselves deeper to furnish out the sacrifice?  These are
thoughts I cannot stifle at the moment that enforces them; and
though I do not doubt but the same spirit of dissipation that has
swallowed up all our principles will reign again in three days
with its wonted sovereignty, I had rather be silent than vent my
indignation.  Yet I cannot talk, for I cannot think, on any other
subject.  It was not six days ago, that in the midst of four
raging wars I saw in the papers an account of the Opera and of
the dresses of the company; and thence the town, and thence of
course the whole nation were informed that Mr. Fitzpatrick had
very little powder in his hair.(459)  Would not one think that
our newspapers were penned by boys just come from school for the
information of their sisters and cousins?  Had we had Gazettes
and Morning Posts in those days, would they have been filled with
such tittle-tattle after the battle of Agincourt, or in the more
resembling weeks after the battle of Naseby?  Did the French
trifle equally even during the ridiculous war of the Fronde?  If
they were as impertinent then, at least they had wit in their
levity.  We are monkeys in conduct, and as clumsy as bears when
we try to gambol.  Oh! my lord! I have no patience with my
country!  and shall leave it without regret!--Can we be proud
when all Europe scorns us?  It was wont to envy us, sometimes to
hate us, but never despised us before.  James the First was
contemptible, but he did not lose an America!  His eldest
grandson sold us, his younger lost us--but we kept ourselves.
Now we have run to meet the ruin--and it is coming!

I beg your lordship's pardon, if I have said too much--but I do
not believe I have.  You have never sold yourself, and therefore
have not been accessary to our destruction.  You must be happy
now not to have a son, who would live to grovel in the dregs of
England.  Your lordship has long been so wise as to secede from
the follies of your countrymen.  May you and Lady Strafford long
enjoy the tranquillity that has been your option even in better
days!--and may you amuse yourself without giving loose to such
reflections as have overflowed in this letter from your devoted
humble servant!

(458) The fatal intelligence of the surrender of the British
forces at Yorktown, under the command of Lord Cornwallis, to the
combined armies of America and France, under General Washington,
had reached England on the 25th.-E.

(459) The following picture of fashionable life at the time of
Walpole's lament, is by Mr.                Wilberforce:--"When I
left the University, so little did I know of general society,
that                I came up to London stored with arguments to
prove the authenticity Of Rowley's poems;                and now
I was at once immersed in politics and fashion.  The very first
time I went to                Boodle's, I won twenty.five guineas
of the Duke of Norfolk.  I belonged at this time to five clubs-
-Miles and Evans's, Brookes's, Boodle's, White's, Goostree's.
The first time I                was at Brookes's, scarcely
knowing any one, I joined, from niere shyness, in play at the
          faro-table, where George Selwyn kept bank.  A friend,
who knew my inexperience, and regarded me as a victim decked out
for sacrifice, called to me, 'What, Wilberforce! is
that you?'  Selwyn quite resented the interference; and, turning
to him, said, in his most                expressive tone, 'O,
Sir, don't interrupt Mr. Wilberforce; he could not be better
employed!'  Nothing could be more luxurious than the style of
these clubs, Fox, Sheridan,                Fitzpatrick, and all
your leading men, frequented them, and associated upon the
easiest terms; you chatted, played at cards, or gambled, as you
pleased.  I was one of those                who met to spend an
evening in memory of Shakspeare, at the Boar's Head, Eastcheap.
Many professed wits were present, but Pitt was the most amusing
of the party.  He                played a good deal at
Goostree's; and I well remember the intense earnestness which he
displayed when joining in those games of chance.  he perceived
their increasing fascination, and soon after suddenly abandoned
them for ever." Life, vol, i. p, 16.-E.



Letter 235To The Earl Of Buchan.(460)
Berkeley Square, Dec. 1, 1781. (page 297)

I am truly sensible of, and grateful for, your lordship's
benevolent remembrance of me, and shall receive with great
respect and pleasure the collection your lordship has been
pleased to order to be sent to me.  I must admire, too, my lord,
the generous assistance that you have lent to your adopted
children; but more forcibly than all I feel your pathetic
expressions on the distress of the public, which is visible even
in this extravagant and thoughtless city. The number of houses to
be let in every street, whoever runs may read.

At the time of your writing your letter, your lordship did not
know the accumulation of misfortune and disgrace that has fallen
on us;(461) nor should I wish to be the trumpeter of my country's
calamities.  Yet as they must float on the surface of the mind,
and blend their hue -with all its emanations, they suggest this
reflection, that there can be no time so proper for the
institution of inquiries into past story as the moment of the
fall of an empire,--a nation becomes a theme for antiquaries,
when it ceases to be one for an historian!--and while its ruins
are fresh and in legible preservation.

I congratulate your lordship on the discovery of the Scottish
monarch's portrait in Suabia, and am sorry you did not happen to
specify of which; but I cannot think of troubling your lordship
to write again on purpose; I may probably find it mentioned in
some of the papers I shall receive.

There is one passage in your lordship's letter in which I cannot
presume to think myself included; and yet if I could suppose I
was, it would look like most impertinent neglect and unworthiness
of the honour that your lordship and the society have done me, if
I did not at least offer. very humbly to obey it. You are pleased
to say, my lord, that the members, when authors, have agreed to
give copies of such of their works as any way relate to the
objects of the institution.  Amongst my very trifling
publications, I think there are none that can pretend even
remotely to that distinction, but the Catalogue of Royal and
Noble Authors, and the Anecdotes of Painting, in each of which
are Scottish authors or artists.  If these should be thought
worthy of a corner on any shelf of the society's library, I
should be proud sending, at your lordship's command, the original
edition of the first.  Of the latter I have not a single set left
but my own. But I am printing a new edition in octavo, with many
additions and corrections, though without cuts, as the former
edition was too dear for many artists to purchase. The new I will
send when finished, if I could hope it would be acceptable, and
your lordship would please to tell me by what channel.

I am ashamed, my lord, to have said so much, or any thing
relating to myself.  I ask your pardon too for the slovenly
writing of my letter; but my hand is both lame and shaking, and I
should but write worse if I attempted transcribing.

I have the honour to be, with great respect, my lord, your
lordship's most obedient and obliged humble servant.

P.  S. It has this moment started into my mind, my lord, that I
have heard that at the old castle at Aubigny, belonging and
adjoining to the Duke of Richmond's house, there are historic
paintings or portraits of the ancient house of Lennox.  I
recollect too that Father Gordon, superior of the Scots College
at Paris, showed me a whole-length of Queen Mary, young, and
which he believed was painted while she was Queen of France.  He
showed me too the original letter she wrote, the night before her
execution, some deeds of Scottish kings, and one of King (I think
Robert) Bruce, remarkable for having no seal appendent, which
Father Gordon said was executed in the time of his so great
distress, that he was not possessed of a seal. I shall be happy
if these hints lead to any investigations of use.

(460) Now first collected.

(461) The surrender of the British army at Yorktown. See ant`e,
p. 296, letter 234.-E.



Letter 236 To Robert Jephson, Esq.(462)
Berkeley Square, Dec. 3, 1781. (page 299)

I have not only a trembling hand, but scarce time to save the
post; yet I write a few lines to beg you will be perfectly easy
on my account, who never differ seriously with my friends, when I
know they do not mean ill to me.  I was sorry you took so much to
heart an alteration in the scenery of your play,(463) which did
not seem to me very material; and which, having since been
adjusted to your wish, had no better effect.  I told you that it
was my fault, not Mr. Malone's, who is warmly your friend; and I
am sure you will be sorry if you do him injustice.  I regret no
pains I have taken, since they have been crowned with your
success; and it would be idle in either of us to recall any
little cross circumstance that may have happened, (as always do
in bringing a play on the stage,) when they have not prevented
its appearance or good fortune.  Be assured, Sir, if that is
worth knowing, that I have taken no offence, and have all the
same good wishes for you that I ever had since I was acquainted
with your merit and abilities.  I can easily allow for the
anxiety of a parent of your genius for his favourite offspring;
and though I have not your parts, I have had the warmth, though
age and illness have chilled it: but, thank God! they have not
deprived me of my good-humour, and I am most good-humouredly and
sincerely your obedient humble servant.

(462) Now first collected.

(463) See ant`e, p. 295, letter 233.-E.



Letter 237 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Berkeley Square, Dec. 30, 1781. (page 299)

We are both hearty friends, my dear Sir, for I see we have both
been reproaching ourselves with silence at the same moment.  I am
much concerned that you have had cause for yours.(464)  I have
had less, though indisposed too in a part material for
correspondence--my hand, which has been in labour of chalk-stones
this whole summer, and at times so nervous as to tremble so much,
that, except when quite necessary, I have avoided a pen.  I have
been delivered of such a quantity of chalky matter, that I am not
only almost free from pain, but hope to avoid a fit this winter.
How there can be a doubt what the gout is, amazes me! what is it
but a concretion of humours, that either Stop up the fine
vessels, cause pain and inflammation, and pass away only by
perspiration; or which discharge themselves into chalk-stones,
which sometimes remain in their beds, sometimes make their
passage outwardly?  I have experienced all three.  It may be
objected, that the sometimes instantaneous removal of pain from
one limb to another is too rapid for a current of chalk--true,
but not for the humour before coagulated.  As there is,
evidently, too, a degree of wind mixed in the gout, may not that
wind be impregnated with the noxious effluvia, especially as the
latter are pent up in the body and may be corrupted?  I hope your
present complaint in the foot will clear the rest of your person.
Many thanks for your etching of Mr. Browne Willis: I shall value
it not only as I am a collector, but because he was your friend.
What shall I say about Mr. Gough?  He is not a pleasant man, and
I doubt will tease me about many things, some of which I have
never cared about, and all which I interest myself little about
now, when I seek to pass my remnant in the most indolent
tranquillity.  He has not been very civil to me, he worships the
fools I despise, and I conceive has no genuine taste; yet as to
trifling resentments, when the objects have not acted with bad
hearts, I can most readily lose them. Please Mr. Gough, I
certainly shall not; I cannot be very grave about such idle
studies as his and my own, and am apt to be impatient, or laugh
when people imagine I am serious about them.  But there is a
stronger reason why I shall not satisfy Mr. Gough.  He is a man
to minute down whatever one tells him that he may call
information, and whip it into his next publication.  However,
though I am naturally very frank, I can regulate myself by those
I converse with; and as I shall be on my guard, I will not
decline visiting Mr. Gough, as it would be illiberal or look
surly if I refused.  You shall have the merit, if you please, of
my assent; and shall tell him, I shall be glad to see him any
morning at eleven o'clock.  This will save you the trouble of
sending me his new work, as I conclude he will mention it to me.

I more willingly assure you that I shall like to see Mr.
Steevens,(465)  and to show him Strawberry.  You never sent me a
person you commended, that I did not find deserved it.

You will be surprised when I tell you, that I have only dipped
into Mr. Bryant's book, and lent the Dean's before I had cut the
leaves, though I had peeped into it enough to see that I shall
not read it.  Both he and Bryant are so diffuse on our antiquated
literature, that I had rather believe in Rowley than go through
their proofs.  Dr. Warton and Mr. Tyrwhitt have more patience,
and intend to answer them--and so the controversy will be two
hundred years out of my reach.  Mr. Bryant, I did find, begged a
vast many questions, which proved to me his own doubts.  Dr.
Glynn's foolish evidence made me laugh, and so did Mr. Bryant's
sensibility for me; he says that Chatterton treated me very
cruelly in one of his writings.  I am sure I did not feel it so.
I suppose Bryant means under the title of Baron of Otranto, which
is written with humour.  I must have been the sensitive plant if
any thing in that character had hurt me!  Mr. Bryant too, and the
Dean, as I see by extracts in the papers, have decorated
Chatterton with sanctimonious honour--think of that young
rascal's note, when, summing up his gains and losses by writing
for and against Beckford, he says, "Am glad he is dead by three
pounds 13 shillings 6pence."  There was a lad of too nice honour
to be capable of forgery!  and a lad who, they do not deny,
forged the poems in the style of Ossian, and fifty other things.
In the parts I did read, Mr. Bryant, as I expected, reasons
admirably, and staggered me; but when I took up the poems called
Rowley's again, I protest I cannot see the smallest air of
antiquity but the old words.  The whole texture is conceived on
ideas of the present century.  The liberal manner of thinking of
a monk so long before the Reformation is as stupendous; and where
he met with Ovid's Metamorphoses, eclogues, and plans of Greek
tragedies, when even Caxton, a printer, took Virgil's AEneid for
so rare a novelty, are not less incomprehensible: though on these
things I speak at random, nor have searched for the era when the
Greek and Latin classics came again to light-at present I imagine
long after our Edward the Fourth.

Another thing struck me in my very cursory perusal of Bryant.  He
asks where Chatterton could find so much knowledge of English
events?  I could tell him where he might, by a very natural
hypothesis, though merely an hypothesis.  It appears by the
evidence, that Canninge left six chests of manuscripts, and that
Chatterton got possession of some or several.  Now what was
therein so probably as a diary drawn up by Canninge himself, or
some churchwarden or wardens, or by a monk or monks?  Is any
thing more natural than for such a person, amidst the events at
Bristol, to set down other public facts as happened in the rest
of the kingdom?  Was not such almost all the materials of our
ancient story?  There is actually such an one, with some curious
collateral facts, if I am not mistaken,--for I write by memory,--
in the History of Furnese or Fountains Abbey, I forget which: if
Chatterton found such an one, did he want the extensive
literature on which so much stress is laid.  Hypothesis for
hypothesis,--I am sure this is as rational an one as the
supposition that six chests were filled with poems never else
heard of.

These are my indigested thoughts on this matter--not that I ever
intend to digest them--for I will not, at sixty-four, sail back
into the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, and be drowned in an
ocean of monkish writers of those ages or of this!  Yours most
sincerely.

(464) Mr. Cole, in a letter of the 31st says, "About six weeks
ago, the gout was harassing both my feet; on Christmas-day it
shifted its quarters, and got into my left hand; and
inexpressible have been the pain and torment I have endured, with
sleepless nights, racking pain, and no rest nor relief by day.  I
hope the worst is over, as I had a comfortable sleep for the
whole night last night: but my hopes are like those in a ship in
a storm; when one billow is past, another and greater is at the
heels of it: for a water-drinker my lot is hard."-E.

(465) George Steevens, Esq.  In 1770, this eminent scholar and
learned commentator became associated with Dr. Johnson, in the
edition of Shakspeare which goes by their joint names.  A fourth
edition, with large additions, was published in 1793, in fifteen
volumes octavo.  In the preparation of it for the press, Mr.
Steevens gave an instance of editorial activity and perseverance,
which is, probably, without a parallel.  For a period of eighteen
months, he devoted himself solely and exclusively to the work;
and, during that time, left his house every morning at one
o'clock with the Hampstead patrols, and proceeded, without any
consideration of weather or season, to the chambers of his
friend, Isaac Reed, in Staple's Inn, where he found a sheet of
the Shakspeare letterpress was ready for his revision: thus,
while the printers were asleep, the editor was @ awake; and the
fifteen large volumes were completed in the short space of twenty
months.  The feat is recorded by Mr. Matthias, in the Pursuits of
Literature:

"Him late, from Hampstead journeying to his book,
Aurora oft for Cophalus mistook;
What time he brush'd her dews with hasty pace,
To meet the printer's dev'let face to face."

He died at Hampstead in 1800, and in his sixty-fourth year.-E.



Letter 238 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Berkeley Square, Jan. 27, 1782. (page 302)

For these three weeks I have had the gout in my left elbow and
hand, and can yet but just bear to lay the latter on the paper
while I write with the other.  However, this is no complaint, for
it is the shortest fit I have had these sixteen years, and with
trifling pain: therefore, as the fits decrease, it does ample
honour to my bootikins regimen, and method.  Next to my
bootikins, I ascribe much credit to a diet-drink of dock-roots,
of which Dr. Turton asked me for my receipt, as the best he had
ever seen, and which I will send you if you please.  It came from
an old physician at Richmond, who did amazing service with it in
inveterate scurvies,--the parents, or ancestors, at least, I
believe, of all gouts.  Your fit I hope is quite gone.

Mr. Gough has been with me.  I never saw a more dry or more cold
gentleman.  He told me his new plan is a series of English
monuments.  I do like the idea, and offered to lend him drawings
for it.

I have seen Mr.  Steevens too, who is much more flowing.  I wish
you had told me it was the editor of Shakspeare, for, on his
mentioning Dr. Farmer, I launched out and said, he was by much
the most rational of Shakspeare's commentators, and had given the
only sensible account of the authors our great poet had
consulted.  I really meant those -who Wrote before Dr. Farmer.
Mr. Steevens seemed a little surprised, which made me discover
the blunder I had made.  For which I was very sorry, though I had
meant nothing by it; however, do not mention it.  I hope be has
too much sense to take it ill, as he must have seen I had no
intention of offending him; on the contrary, that my whole
behaviour marked a desire of being civil to him as your friend,
in which light only you had named him to me.  Pray take no notice
of it, though I could not help mentioning it, as it lies on my
conscience to have been even undesignedly and indirectly unpolite
to any body you recommend.  I should not, I trust, have been so
unintentionally to any body, nor with intention, unless provoked
to it by great folly or dirtiness.  Adieu!



Letter 239 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Berkeley Square, Feb. 14, 1782. (page 303)

I have received such treasures from you, dear Sir, through the
channel of Mr. Nichols, that I neither know how to thank you, nor
to find time to peruse them so fast as I am impatient to do.  You
must complete your kindness by letting me detain them a few days,
till I have gone through them, when I will return them most
carefully by the same intervention; and particularly the curious
piece of enamel; for though you are, as usual, generous enough to
offer it to me, I have plundered you too often already; and
indeed I have room left for nothing more, nor have that miserly
appetite of continuing to hoard what I cannot enjoy, nor have
much time left to possess.

I have already looked into your beautiful illuminated manuscript
copied from Dr: Stukeley's letter, and with Anecdotes of the
Antiquaries of Bennet College; and I have found therein so many
charming instances of your candour, humility, and justice, that I
grieve to deprive Mr. Gough for a minute even of the possession
of so valuable a tract.  I will not Injure him or it, by begging
you to cancel what relates to me, as it would rob you of part of
your defence of Mr. Baker.  If I wish to have it detained from
Mr. Gough till the period affixed in the first leaf, or rather to
my death, which will probably precede yours, it is for this
reason only: Mr. Gough is apt, as we antiquaries are, to be
impatient to tell the world all he knows, which is unluckily much
more than the world is at all impatient of knowing.  For what you
call your flaming zeal, I do not in the least object to it.  We
have agreed to tolerate each other, and certainly are neither of
us infallible.  I think, on what we differ most is, your calling
my opinions fashionable; they were when we took them up: I doubt
it is yours that are most in fashion now, at least in this
country.  The Emperor seems to be of our party; but, if I like
his notions, I do not admire his judgment, which is too
precipitate to be judgment.

I smiled at Mr. Gough's idea of my declining his acquaintance as
a member of that Obnoxious Society of Antiquaries.  It is their
folly alone that is obnoxious to me, and can they help that?  I
shall very cheerfully assist him.

I am glad you are undeserved about the controversial piece in the
Gentleman's Magazine, which I should have assured You, as you now
know, that it was not mine.  I declared, in my Defence,(466) that
I would publish nothing more about that question.  I have not,
nor intend it.  Neither was it I that wrote the prologue to the
Count of Narbonne, but Mr. Jephson himself.  On the opposite page
I will add the receipt for the diet-drink: as to my regimen, I
shall not specify it. Not only you would not adopt it, but I
should tremble to have you.  In fact, I never do prescribe it, as
I am persuaded it would kill the strongest man in England, who
was not exactly of the same temperament with me, and who had not
embraced it early.  It consists in temperance to quantity as to
eating--I do not mind the quality; I am persuaded that great
abstinence with the gout is dangerous; for, if one does not take
nutriment enough, there cannot be strength sufficient to fling
out the gout, and then it deviates to palsies.  But my great
nostrum is the use of cold water, inwardly and outwardly, on all
occasions, and total disregard of precaution against
catching cold.  A hat you know I never wear, my breast I never
button, nor wear great-coats, etc.  I have often had the gout in
my face (as last week) and eyes, and instantly dip my head in a
pail of cold water, which always cures it, and does not send it
anywhere else.  All this I do, because I have so for these forty
years, weak as I look; but Milo would not have lived a week if he
had played such pranks.  My diet-drink is not all of so Quixote a
disposition; any of the faculty will tell you how innocent it is,
at least.  In a few days, for I am a rapid reader when I like my
matter, I will return all your papers and letters; and in the
mean time thank you most sincerely for the use of them.

(466) Hannah More, in a letter to Mrs. Boscawen, says, "Many
thanks for Mr. Walpole's sensible, temperate, and humane
pamphlet.  I am not quite a convert yet to his side in the
Chatertonian controversy, though this elegant writer and all the
antiquaries and critics are against me: I like much the candid
regret he every where discovers at not having fostered this
unfortunate lad, whose profligate manners, however, I too much
fear, would not have done credit to any patronage.  Mrs. Garrick
read it, and was more interested than I have ever seen her."-E.



Letter 240 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
February 15, 1782. (page 304)

I was SO impatient to peruse all the literary stores you sent me,
my dear Sir, that I stayed at home on purpose to give up a whole
evening to them.  I have gone through all; your own manuscript,
which I envy Mr. Gough, his specimen, and the four letters to you
from the latter and Mr. Steevens.  I am glad they were both
satisfied with my reception.  In truth, you know I am neither
formal nor austere, nor have any grave aversion to our
antiquities, though I do now and then divert myself with their
solemnity about arrant trifles; yet perhaps we owe much to their
thinking those trifles of importance, or the Lord knows how they
would have patience to investigate them so indefatigably.  Mr.
Steevens seemed pleasant, but I doubt I shall never be demure
enough to conciliate Mr. Gough.  Then I have a wicked quality in
an antiquary, nay, one that annihilates the essence: that is, I
cannot bring myself to a habit of minute accuracy about very
indifferent points.  I do not doubt but there is a swarm of
diminutive inaccuracies in my Anecdotes--well! if there is, I
bequeath free leave of correction to the microscopic intellects
of my continuators.  I took dates and facts from the sedulous and
faithful Vertue,(467) and piqued myself on little but on giving
an idea of the spirit of the times with regard to the arts at the
different periods.

The specimen you present me of Mr. Gough's detail of our
monuments is very differently treated, proves vast industry, and
shows most circumstantial fidelity.  It extends, too, much
farther than I expected; for it seems to embrace the whole mass
of our monuments, nay, of some that are vanished.  It is not what
I thought, an intention of representing our modes of dress, from
figures on monuments, but rather a history of our tombs.  It is
fortunate, though he may not think so, that so many of the more
ancient are destroyed, since for three or four centuries they
were clumsy, rude, and ugly.  I know I am but a fragment of an
antiquary, for I abhor all Saxon doings, and whatever did not
exhibit some taste, grace, or elegance, and some ability in the
artists.  Nay, if I may say so to you, I do not care a straw for
archbishops, bishops, mitred abbots, and cross-legged knights.
When you have one of a sort, you have seen all.  However, to so
superficial a student in antiquity as I am, Mr. Gough's work is
not unentertaining.  It has frequently anecdotes and
circumstances of kings, queens, and historic personages, that
interest me though I care not a straw about a series of bishops
who had only Christian names, or were removed from one old church
to a newer.  Still I shall assist Mr. Gough with whatever he
wants in my possession.  I believe he is a very worthy man, and I
should be a churl not to oblige any man who is so innocently
employed.  I have felt the selfish, the proud avarice of those
who hoard literary curiosities for themselves alone, as other
misers do money.

I observed in your account of the Count-Bishop Hervey, that you
call one of his dedicators Martin Sherlock, Esquire.(468)  That
Mr. Sherlock is an Irish clergyman; I am acquainted with him.  He
is a very amiable good-natured man, and wants judgment, not
parts.  He is a little damaged by aiming at Sterne's capricious
pertness which the original wore out; and which, having been
admired and cried up to the skies by foreign writers of reviews,
was, on the contrary, too severely treated by our own.  That
injustice shocked Mr. Sherlock, who has a good heart and much
simplicity, and sent him in dudgeon last year to Ireland,
determined to write no more; yet I am persuaded he will, so
strong Is his propensity to being an author; and if he does,
correction may make him more attentive to what he says and
writes.  He has no gall; on the contrary, too much benevolence in
his indiscriminate praise; but he has made many ingenious
criticisms.  He is a just, a due enthusiast to Shakspeare: but,
alas! he scarce likes Richardson less.

(467) George Vertue, the engraver, was born in London in 1684,
and died in 1756.  Walpole has given a short sketch of his active
life in his Anecdotes of Painting in England; a work, for the
materials of which he was in a great measure, indebted to the
collections of Vertue, which he bought of his widow.  "These
collections," he says, "amounted to nearly forty volumes, large
and small: in one of his pocket-books I found a note of his first
intention of compiling such a work; it was in 1713, and he
continued it assiduously to his death."-E.

(468) This eccentric and original writer had published a book at
Rome in Italian, and two others at Paris, in French.  The first
volume of his "Letters from an English Traveller," translated by
the Rev.  John Duncombe, appeared in London in 1779, the author's
return from the Continent, and before it was known he was in holy
orders.  The Letters were dedicated to the Hon. and Rev.
Frederick Augustus Hervey, Bishop of Derry, and afterwards Earl
of Bristol. (See ant`e, p. 236, letter 182.)  This volume was
republished, revised and corrected by the author, in 1780, and
was soon followed by "New Letters of an English Traveller."  In
1781, Mr. Sherlock had a strong inclination to revisit the
Continent, and actually caused the following article to be
inserted in a public journal:--"It is now generally supposed,
that, whoever may be honoured with the negotiation at Vienna, Mr.
Sherlock, the celebrated English traveller and chaplain to the
Earl of Bristol, will be appointed secretary to his embassy.  His
great literary and political accomplishments, are in high
estimation throughout the Continent; and he is, perhaps, the only
Englishman who can boast of having familiarly conversed with the
high potentates whose alliance at this important juncture it
would be desirable to obtain.  His being in orders is an
objection which will vanish, when it is recollected that the very
same important office was, in 1708, intended for Dr. Swift: a
name which, however deservedly revered in Great Britain and
Ireland, must, in every other kingdom of Europe, give precedence
to those of Sherlock, Rousseau, and Sterne, the luminaries of the
present century."  In June of the same year he was presented, by
the Bishop of Killala, with a living of 200 pounds a-year.  Upon
which occasion he wrote to his publisher, "I think it may be of
use to our sale to let the world know it in the newspaper; and I
am persuaded that doubling the value of the living will make the
books sell better.  The world (God bless it!) is very apt to
value a man's writing according to his rank and fortune.  I am
sure they will think more highly of my Letters, if they believe I
have 400 a-year, than if they think I have only two.  Pope, you
know, says something like this--

'A saint in crape, is twice a saint in lawn.'

Will you then be so good as to have this paragraph put into the
Morning Herald, the Morning Chronicle, the Morning Post, and any
other fourth paper you choose?  'We hear that the Rev. Martin
Sherlock, M.A., etc., is collated to the united vicarages of
Castleconner and Rilglass, worth 400 a-year.'  Is there any news
of me in London?  Am I abused or well-spoken of in print?  Are
the writers as uneasy as they used to be about my vanity?  Keep
all printed things, reviews, newspapers, etc., about me, till I
have an opportunity of sending for them.  I think I shall have
something for you by next week; but keep that a secret.  wish,
for your sake, I was a bishop; for then, I will answer for it, my
works would sell well."  An elegant edition of all Mr. Sherlock's
Letters was published by Mr. Nichols in 1802, in two volumes
octavo.  It is now a very scarce book.  In 1788, he was collated
to the rectory and vicarage of Streen, and soon afterwards to the
archdeaconry of Killala.  He died in 1797.-E.



Letter 241 To The Rev. William Mason.
(page 307)

I have been reading a new French translation of the elder
Pliny,(469) of whom I never read but scraps before; because, in
the poetical manner in which we learn Latin at Eton, we never
become acquainted with the names of the commonest things, too
undignified to be admitted into verse; and, therefore, I never
had patience to search in a dictionary for the meaning of every
substantive.  I find I shall not have a great deal less trouble
with the translation, as I am not more familiar with their common
drogues than with the Latin.  However, the beginning goes off
very glibly, as I am not yet arrived below the planets: but do
you know that this study, of which I have never thought since I
learnt astronomy at Cambridge, has furnished me with some very
entertaining ideas!  I have long been weary of the common jargon
of poetry.  You bards have exhausted all the nature we are
acquainted with; you have treated us with the sun, moon, and
stars, the earth and the ocean, mountains and valleys, etc. etc.
under every possible aspect.  In short, I have longed for some
American Poetry, in which I might find new appearances of nature,
and consequently of art.  But my present excursion into the sky
has afforded me more entertaining prospects, and newer phenomena.
If I was as good a poet, as you are, I would immediately compose
an idyl, or an elegy, the scene of which should be laid in Saturn
or Jupiter: and then, instead of a niggardly soliloquy by the
light of a single moon, I would describe a night illuminated by
four or five moons at least, and they should be all in a
perpendicular or horizontal line, according as Celia's eyes (who
probably in that country has at least two pair) are disposed in
longitude or latitude.  You must allow that this system would
diversify poetry amazingly.--And then Saturn's belt! which the
translator says in his notes, Is not round the planet's waist,
like the shingles; but is a globe of crystal that encloses the
whole orb, as You may have seen an enamelled watch in a case of
glass.  If you do not perceive what infinitely pretty things may
be said, either in poetry or romance. on a brittle heaven of
crystal, and what furbelowed rainbows they must have in that
country, you are neither the Ovid nor natural philosopher I take
you for.  Pray send me an eclogue directly upon this plan--and I
give you leave to adopt my idea of Saturnian Celias having their
every thing quadrupled--which would form a much more entertaining
rhapsody than Swift's thought of magnifying or diminishing the
species in his Gulliver. How much more execution a fine woman
would do with two pair of piercers! or four! and how much longer
the honeymoon would last, if both the sexes have (as no doubt
they have) four times the passions, and four times the means of
gratifying them!--I have opened new worlds to you--You must be
four times the poet you are, and then you will be above Milton,
and equal to Shakspeare, the only two mortals I am acquainted
with who ventured beyond the visible diurnal sphere, and
preserved their intellects.  Dryden himself would have talked
nonsense, and, I fear, indecency, on my plan; but you are too
good a divine, I am sure, to treat my quadruple love but
platonically.  In Saturn, notwithstanding their glass-case, they
are supposed to be very cold; but platonic love of itself
produces frigid conceits enough, and you need not augment the
dose.--But I will not dictate, The Subject is new; and you, who
have so much imagination, will shoot far beyond me.  Fontenelle
would have made something of the idea, even in prose; but
Algarotti would dishearten any body from attempting to meddle
with the system of the universe a second time in a genteel
dialogue.(470)  Good night! I am going to bed.--Mercy on me! if I
should dream of Celia with four times the usual attractions!

(469) By Poinsinet de Sivry, in twelve Volumes quarto.-E.

(470) A translation of Count Algarotti's "Newtonianismo per Le
Dame," by Mrs. Elizabeth Carter, under the title of "Sir Isaac
Newton'S Philosophy explained for the Use of the Ladies; in six
Dialogues of Light and Colours," appeared in 1739.-E.



Letter 242 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
February 2, 1782. (page 308)

I doubt you are again in error, my good Sir, about the letter I
in the Gentleman's Magazine against the Rowleians, unless Mr.
Malone sent it to you; for he is the author, and not Mr.
Steevens, from whom I imagine you received it.(471)  There is a
report that some part of Chatterton's forgery is to be produced
by an accomplice; but this I do not answer for, nor know the
circumstances.  I have scarce seen a person who is not persuaded
that the forging of the poems was Chatterton's own, though he
might have found some old stuff to work upon, which very likely
was the case; but now that the poems have been so much examined,
nobody (that has an ear) can get over the modernity of the
modulations, and the recent cast of the ideas and phraseology,
corroborated by such palpable pillage of Pope and Dryden.  Still
the boy remains a prodigy, by whatever means he procured or
produced the edifice erected; and still It will be found
inexplicable how he found time or materials for operating such
miracles.

You are in another error about Sir Harry Englefield, who cannot
be going to marry a daughter of Lord Cadogan, unless he has a
natural one, of whom I never heard.  Lord Cadogan has no daughter
by his first wife, and his oldest girl by My niece is not five
years old.(472)  The act of the Emperor to which I alluded, is
the general destruction of convents in Flanders, and, I suppose,
in his German dominions too.  The Pope suppressed the carnival,
as mourning and proposes a journey to Vienna to implore
mercy.(473)  This is a little different from the time when the
pontiffs trampled on the necks of emperors, and called it
trampling super Aspidem et Draconent.  I hope you have received
your cargo back undamaged.  I was much obliged to you, and am
yours ever.

(471) It was afterwards published separately, under the title of
"Cursory Observations on the Poems Attributed to Thomas Rowley, a
priest of the fifteenth century."-E.

(472) Lord Cadogan married, in 1747, Frances, daughter of the
first Lord Montfort; and secondly, in 1777, Mary, daughter of
Charles Churchill, Esq. by Lady Mary, daughter of Sir Robert
Walpole.-E.

(473) The Emperor Joseph, having been restrained during the
lifetime of Maria Theresa from acting as he wished in
ecclesiastical matters, upon her death, in November, 1780, issued
two ordinances respecting religious orders: by one forbidding the
Roman Catholics to hold correspondence with their chief in
foreign parts; and by the other forbidding any bull or ordinance
of the Pope from being received in his dominions, until
sanctioned by him.  In 1782, he directed the suppression of the
religious houses; upon which he was visited at Vienna by the
Pope, who was received with great respect, but was unable to
procure any intermission in the Emperor's ecclesiastical
reforms.-E.



Letter 243 To The Hon. George Hardinge.
March 8, 1782. (page 309)

It is very pleasing to receive congratulation from a friend on a
friend's success: that success, however, is not so agreeable as
the universal esteem allowed to Mr. Conway's character, which not
only accompanies his triumph,(474) but I believe contributed to
it.  To-day, I suppose, all but his character will be reversed;
for there must have been a miraculous change if the Philistines
do not bear as ample a testimony to their Dagon's honour, as
conviction does to that of a virtuous man.  In truth, I am far
from desiring that the Opposition should prevail yet: the nation
is not sufficiently changed, nor awakened enough, and it is sure
of having its feelings repeatedly attacked by more woes; the blow
will have more effect a little time hence: the clamour must be
loud enough to drown the huzzas of five hoarse bodies, the
Scotch, Tories, Clergy, Law, and Army, who would soon croak if
new ministers cannot do what the old have made impossible; and
therefore, till general distress involves all in complaint, and
lays the cause undeniably at the right doors, victory will be but
momentary, and the conquerors would soon be rendered more
unpopular than the vanquished; for, depend upon it, the present
ministers would not be as decent and as harmless an Opposition as
the present.  Their criminality must be legally proved and
stigmatised, or the pageant itself would soon be restored to
essence.  Base money will pass till cried down.  I wish you may
keep your promise of calling upon me better than you have done.
Remember, that though you have time enough before you, I have
not; and, consequently, must be much more impatient for our
meeting than you are, as I am, dear Sir, yours most sincerely.

(474) General Conway had, on the 27th of February, distinguished
himself in the House of Commons by a motion, "That the farther
prosecution of offensive war on the continent of America, for the
purpose of reducing the revolted colonies to obedience by force,
will be the means of weakening the efforts of this country
against her European enemies; tend, under the present
circumstances, to increase the mutual enmity so fatal to the
interests both of Great Britain and America; and, by preventing a
happy reconciliation with that country, to frustrate the earnest
desire graciously expressed by his Majesty, to restore the
blessings of public tranquility."  This motion was carried by a
majority of 234 to 213; upon which the General moved an humble
address to his Majesty thereupon, which was carried without a
division.-E.



Letter 244 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Berkeley Square, March 9, 1782. (page 310)

Though I have scarce time, I must write a line to thank you for
the print of Mr. Cowper, and to tell you how ashamed I am that
You should have so much attention to me, on the slightest wish I
express, when I fear my gratitude is not half so active, though
it ought to exceed obligations.

Dr. Farmer has been with me; and though it was but a short visit,
he pleased me so much by his easy simplicity and good sense, that
I wish for more acquaintance with him.

I do not know whether the Emperor will atone to you for
demolishing the cross, by attacking the crescent.  The papers say
he has declared war with the Turks.  He seems to me to be a
mountebank who professes curing all diseases.  As power is his
Only panacea, the remedy methinks is worse than the disease.
Whether Christianity will be laid aside, I cannot say.  As
nothing of the spirit is left, the forms, I think, signify very
little.  Surely it is not an age of morality and principle; does
it import whether profligacy is baptized or not?  I look to
motives, not to professions.  I do not approve of convents: but,
if Caesar wants to make soldiers of monks, I detest his
reformation, and think that men had better not procreate than
commit murder; nay, I believe that monks get more children than
soldiers do; but what avail abstracted speculations? Human
passions wear the dresses of the times, and carry on the same
views, though in different habits.  Ambition and interest set up
religions or pull them down, as fashion presents a handle; and
the conscientious must be content when the mode favours their
wishes, or sigh when it does not.



Letter 245 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
April 13, 1782. (page 310)

Your partiality to me, my good Sir, is much overseen, if you
think me fit to correct your Latin.  Alas! I have not skimmed ten
pages of Latin these dozen years.  I have dealt in nothing but
English, French, and a little Italian; and do not think.  if my
life depended on it, I could write four lines of pure Latin.  I
have had occasion, once or twice to speak the language, and soon
found that all my verbs were Italian with Roman terminations.  I
would not on any account draw you into a scrape, by depending on
my skill in what I have half forgotten.  But you are in the
metropolis of Latium.  If you distrust your own knowledge, which
I do not, especially from the specimen you have sent me, surely
you must have good critics at your elbow to consult.

In truth, I do not love Roman inscriptions in lieu of our own
language, though, if any where, proper in an university; neither
can I approve writing what the Romans themselves would not
understand.  What does it avail to give a Latin tail to a
Guildhall?  Though the word used by moderns, would mayor convey
to Cicero the idea of a mayor?  Architectus, I believe, is the
right word; but I doubt whether veteris jam perantiquae is
classic for a dilapidated building--but do not depend on me;
consult some better judges.

Though I am glad of the late revolution,(475)  a word for which I
have great reverence, I shall certainly not dispute with you
thereon.  I abhor exultation.  If the change produces peace, I
shall make a bonfire in my heart.  Personal interest I have none;
you and I shall certainly never profit by the politics to which
we are attached.  The Archaeologic Epistle I admire exceedingly,
though I am sorry it attacks Mr. Bryant, whom I love and respect.
The Dean is so absurd an oaf, that he deserves to be ridiculed.
Is any thing more hyperbolic than his preference of Rowley to
Homer, Shakspeare, and Milton.  Whether Rowley or Chatterton was
the author, are the poems in any degree comparable to those
authors?  is not a ridiculous author an object of ridicule?  I do
not even guess at your meaning in your conclusive paragraph on
that subject.  Dictionary writer I suppose alludes to Johnson;
but surely you do not equal the compiler of a dictionary to a
genuine poet?  Is a brickmaker on a level with Mr. Essex?  Nor
can I hold that exquisite wit and satire are Billingsgate; if
they were, Milles and Johnson would be able to write an answer to
the epistle.  I do as little guess whom you mean that got a
pension by Toryism: if Johnson too, he got a pension for having
abused pensioners, and yet took one himself, which was
contemptible enough.  Still less know I who preferred opposition
to principles, which is not a very common case; whoever it was,
as Pope says,

"The way he took was strangely round about."

With Mr. Chamberlayne I was very little acquainted, nor ever saw
him six times in my life.  It was with Lord Walpole's branch he
was intimate, and to whose eldest son Mr. Chamberlayne had been
tutor.  This poor gentleman had a most excellent character
universally, and has been more feelingly regretted than almost
any man I ever knew.(476)  This is all I am able to tell you.  I
forgot to say, I am also in the, dark as to the person you guess
for the author of the Epistle.  it cannot be the same person to
whom it is generally attributed; who certainly neither has a
pension nor has deserted his principles, nor has reason to be
jealous of those he laughed at; for their abilities are far below
his.  I do not mean that it is his, but is attributed to him.  It
was sent to me; nor did I ever see a line of it till I read it in
print.  In one respect it is most credible to be his; for there
are not two such inimitable poets in England.(477)  I smiled on
reading it, and said to myself, "Dr. Glynn is well off to have
escaped!"  His language Indeed about me has been Billingsgate;
but peace be to his and the manes of Rowley, if they have ghosts
who never existed.  The Epistle has not put an end to that
controversy, which was grown so tiresome.  I rejoice at having
kept my resolution of not writing a word more on that subject.
The Dean had swollen it to an enormous bladder; the Archaeologic
poet pricked it with a pin; a sharp one indeed, and it burst.
Pray send me a better account of yourself if you can.

(475) The resignation of Lord North, and the formation of the
Rockingham administration.-E.

(476) Edward Chamberlayne, Esq. recently appointed secretary of
the treasury.  He was so overcome by a nervous terror of the
responsibility of the office, that he committed suicide, by
throwing himself out of a window on the 6th of April.  On the
following day, Hannah More sent the subjoined account of this
melancholy event to her sister:--"Chamberlayne! the amiable, the
accomplished, the virtuous, the religious Chamberlayne! in the
full vigour of his age, high in reputation, happy in his
prospects, threw him self out of the Treasury window, was taken
up alive, and lived thirty-six hours in the most perfect
possession of his mental activity, his religion, and his
reasoning faculties.  With an astonishing composure he settled
his affairs with both worlds.  He never seemed to feel any
remorse, or to reproach his conscience with the guilt of suicide.
In vain had they entreated him to accept of this place.  In a
fatal moment he consented: after this, he never had a moment's
peace, and little or no sleep; this brought on a slow nervous
fever, but not to confine him a moment.  I saw him two days
before.  He looked pale and eager, and talked with great disgust
of his place, on my congratulating him on such an acquisition.
We chatted away, however, and he grew pleasant; and we parted--
never to meet again."-E.

(477) In a review of the edition of the Works of Mason which
appeared in 1816, the quarterly Review, after expressing a wish
that this and the Heroic Epistle to Sir William Chambers had been
included in the collection, says, "The Archaeological Epistle was
an hasty but animated effusion, drawn forth by the Rowleian
Controversy, and dressed in the garb of old English verse, in
order to obviate the argument drawn from the difficulty of
writing in the language of the fifteenth century.  The task might
indeed have been per; formed by many; but the sentiments accorded
with the known declarations of Mason." Vol. xv. p. 385.-E.



Letter 246 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Berkeley Square, May 24, 1782. (page 312)

You are always kind to me, dear Sir, in all respects, but I have
been forced to recur to a rougher prescription than ass's milk.
The pain and oppression on my breast obliged me to be blooded two
days together, which removed my cold and fever; but, as I
foresaw, left me the gout in their room.  I have had it in my
left foot and hand for a week, but it is going. This cold is very
epidemic. I have at least half a dozen nieces and great-nieces
confined with it.  but it is not dangerous or lasting.  I shall
send you, within this day or two, the new edition of my Anecdotes
of Painting; you will find very little new: it is a cheap edition
for the use of artists, and that at least they who really want
the book, and not the curiosity, may have it, without being
forced to give the outrageous price at which the Strawberry
edition sells, merely because it is rare.

I could assure Mr. Gough, that the Letter on Chatterton cost me 6
very small pains.  I had nothing to do but recollect and relate
the exact truth.  There has been published another piece on it,
which I cannot tell whether meant to praise or to blame me, so
wretchedly is it written; and I have received another anonymous
one, dated Oxford, (which may be to disguise Cambridge) and which
professes to treat me very severely, though stuffed with fulsome
compliments.  It abuses me for speaking modestly of myself--a
fault I hope I shall never mend; avows agreeing with me on the
supposition of the poems, which may be a lie, for it is not
uncharitable to conclude that an anonymous writer is a liar;
acquits me of being at all accessory to the poor lad's
catastrophe; and then, with most sensitive nerves, is shocked to
death, and finds me guilty of it, for having, after it happened,
dropped, that had he lived he might have fallen into more serious
forgeries, though I declare that I never heard that he did.  To
be sure, no Irishman ever blundered more than to accuse one of an
ex post facto murder!  If this Hibernian casuist is smitten
enough with his own miscarriage to preserve it in a magazine
phial, I shall certainly not answer it, not even by this couplet
which is suggested:

So fulsome, yet so captious too, to tell you much it grieves me,
That though your flattery makes me sick, your peevishness
relieves me.

Adieu, my good Sir.  Pray inquire for your books, if you do not
receive them: they go by the Cambridge Fly.



Letter 247 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Berkeley Square, June 1, 1782. (page 313)

I thank you much, dear Sir, for your kind intention about
Elizabeth of York;.  but it would be gluttony and rapacity to
accept her: I have her already in the picture of her
marriage,(478) which was Lady Pomfret's; besides Vertue's print
of her, with her husband, son, and daughter-in-law.  In truth I
have not room for any more pictures any where; yet, without
plundering you, or without impoverishing myself, I have
supernumerary pictures with which I can furnish your vacancies;
but I must get well first to look them out.  As yet I cannot walk
alone; and my posture, as you see, makes me write ill.  It is
impossible to recover in such weather--never was such a sickly
time.

I have not yet seen Bishop Newton's life.  I will not give three
guineas for what I would not give threepence, his Works; his
Life,(479) I Conclude, will be borrowed by all the magazines, and
there I shall see it.

I know nothing of Acciliator--I have forgotten some of my good
Latin, and luckily never knew any bad; having always detested
monkish barbarism.  I have just finished Mr. Pennant's new
volume, parts of which amused me; though I knew every syllable,
that was worth knowing before, for there is not a word of
novelty; and it is tiresome his giving such long extracts out of
Dugdale and other common books, and telling one long stories
about all the most celebrated characters in the English history,
besides panegyrics on all who showed him their houses: but the
prints are charming; though I cannot conceive why he gave one of
the Countess of Cumberland, who never did any thing worth memory,
but recording the very night on which she conceived.

"The Fair Circassian" was written by a Mr. Pratt, who has
published several works under the name of Courtney Melmoth.(480)
The play might have been written by Cumberland, it is bad enough.
I did read the latter's coxcombical Anecdotes,(481) but saw
nothing on myself, except mention of my Painters.  Pray what is
the passage you mean on me or Vertue? Do not write on purpose to
answer this, it is not worth while.

(478) This picture of the marriage of Elizabeth of York with
Henry the Seventh was painted by Mabuse, and is described in
Walpole's Anecdotes of Painting.-E.

(479) Shortly after the death of Bishop Newton, his Works were
published, with an autobiographical Memoir, in two volumes
quarto.  The prelate, speaking, in this Memoir, of Johnson's
Lives of the Poets, having observed, that "candour was much hurt
and offended at the malevolence that predominated in every part,"
the Doctor, in a conversation with Dr. Adams, master of Pembroke
College, Oxford, thus retaliated on his townsman:--"Tom knew he
should be dead before what he said of me would appear: he durst
not have printed it while he was alive."  Dr. Adams: "I believe
his Dissertations on the Prophecies' is his great work."
Johnson: "Why, Sir, it is Tom's great work; but how far it is
great, or how much of it is Tom's, are other questions.  I fancy
a considerable part of it was borrowed."  Dr. Adams: "He was a
very successful man."  Johnson: "I don't think so, Sir.  He did
not get very high.  He was late in getting what he did get, and
he did not get it by the best means.  I believe he was a gross
flatterer."-Life, vol. viii. p. 286.-E.

(480) Mr. Pratt was the author of "Gleanings in England,"
"Gleanings through Wales, Holland, and Westphalia," and many
other works which enjoyed a temporary popularity, but are now
forgotten.  Of Mr. Pratt, the following amusing anecdote is
related by Mr. Gifford, in the Maviad:--"This gentleman lately
put in practice a very notable scheme.  Having scribbled himself
fairly out of notice, he found it expedient to retire to the
Continent for a few months, to provoke the inquiries of Mr.
Lane's indefatigable readers.  Mark the ingratitude of the
creatures!  No inquiries were made, and Mr. Pratt was forgotten
before he had crossed the channel.  Ibi omnis efFusus labor--but
what!

The mouse that is content with one poor hole,
Can never be a mouse of any soul:

baffled in this expedient, he had recourse to another, and, while
we were dreaming of nothing less, came before us in the following
paragraph:--"A few days since, died at Basle in Switzerland, the
ingenious Mr. Pratt: his loss will be severely felt by the
literary world, as he joined to the accomplishments of the
gentleman the erudition of the scholar."  This was inserted in
the London papers for several days successively; the country
papers too yelled out like syllables of dolour; at length, while
our eyes were yet wet for the irreparable loss we had sustained,
came a second paragraph as follows: "As no event of late has
caused a more general sorrow than the supposed death of the
ingenious Mr. Pratt, we are happy to have it in our power to
assure hiss numerous admirers, that he is as well as they can
wish and (what they will be delighted to hear) busied is
preparing his Travels for the press."-E.

(481) "Anecdotes of Eminent Painters, in Spain during the
Sixteenth and Seventeenth Centuries, with Cursory Remarks upon
the present State of Arts in that Kingdom."



Letter 248 To John Nichols, Esq.
Berkeley Square, June 19, 1782. (page 315)

Sir,
Just this moment, on opening your fifth volume of Miscellaneous
Poems, I find the translation of Cato's speech into Latin,
attributed (by common fame) to Bishop Atterbury.  I can most
positively assure you, that that translation was the work of Dr.
Henry Bland, afterwards Head-master of Eton school, Provost of
the college there, and Dean of Durham.  I have more than once
heard my father Sir Robert Walpole say, that it was he himself
who gave that translation to Mr. Addison, who was extremely
surprised at the fidelity and beauty of it.  It may be worth
while, Sir, on some future occasion, to mention this fact in some
one of your valuable and curious publications.  I am, Sir, with
great regard.



Letter 249 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Berkeley Square, June 21, 1782. (page 315)

It is no trouble, my good Sir, to write to you, for I am as well
recovered as I generally do.  I am very sorry you do not, and
especially in your hands, as your pleasure and comforts so much
depend on them.  Age is by no means a burden while it does not
subject one to depend  on others; when it does, it reconciles one
to quitting every thing; at least I believe you and I think so,
who do not look on solitude as a calamity.  I shall go to
Strawberry to-morrow, and will, as I might have thought of doing,
consult Dugdale and Collins for the Duke of Ireland's inferior
titles.  Mr. Gough I shall be glad of seeing when I am settled
there, which will not be this fortnight.  I think there are but
eleven parts of Marianne, and that it breaks off in the nun's
story, which promised to be very interesting.  Marivaux never
finished Marianne, nor the Paysan Parvenu (which was the case too
with the younger Cr`ebillon with Les Egaremens.)  I have seen two
bad conclusions of Marianne by other hands.  Mr. Cumberland's
brusquerie is not worth notice, nor did I remember it.  Mr.
Pennant's impetuosity you must overlook too; though I love your
delicacy about your friend's memory.  Nobody that knows you will
suspect you of wanting it; but, in the ocean of books that
overflows every day, who will recollect a thousandth part of what
is in most of them?  By the number of writers one should
naturally suppose there were multitudes of readers; but if there
are, which I doubt, the latter read only the productions of the
day.  Indeed, if they did read former publications, they would
have no occasion to read the modern, which, like Mr. Pennant's,
are borrowed wholesale from the more ancient: it is sad to say,
that the borrowers add little new but mistakes.  I have just been
turning over Mr. Nichols's eight volumes of Select Poems, which
he has swelled unreasonably with large collops of old authors,
most of whom little deserved revivifying.     I bought them for
the biographical notes, in which I have found both inaccuracies
and blunders.  For instance, one that made me laugh.  In Lord
Lansdown's Beauties he celebrates a lady, one Mrs. Vaughan   *
Mr. Nichols turns to the peerage of that time, and finds a Duke
of Bolton married a Lady Ann Vaughan; he instantly sets her down
for the lady in question, and introduces her to posterity as a
beauty.  Unluckily, she was a monster, so ugly, that the Duke,
then Marquis of Winchester, being forced by his father to marry
her for her great fortune, was believed never to have
consummated' and parted from her as soon as his father died; but,
if our predecessors are exposed to these misrepresentations, what
shall we be, when not only all private history is detailed in the
newspapers, but scarce ever with tolerable fidelity! I have long
said, that if a paragraph in a newspaper contains a word of
truth, it is sure to be accompanied with two or three blunders;
yet, who will believe that papers published in the face of the
whole town should be nothing but magazines of lies, every one of
which fifty persons could contradict and disprove? Yet so it
certainly is, and future history will probably be ten times
falser than all preceding.  Adieu! Yours most sincerely.



Letter 250 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Strawberry Hill, July 23, 1782. (page 316)

I have been more dilatory than usual, dear Sir, in replying to
your last; but it called for no particular answer, nor have I now
any thing worth telling you.  Mr. Gough and Mr. Nichols dined
with me on Saturday last.  I lent the former three-and-twenty
drawings of monuments out of Mr. Lethieullier's books, for his
large work, which will be a magnificent one.  Mr. Nichols is, as
you say, a very rapid editor, and I must commend him for being a
very accurate one.  I scarce ever saw a book so correct as his
Life of Mr. Bowyer.  I wish it deserved the pains he has bestowed
on it every way, and that he would not dub so many men great.  I
have known several of his heroes who were very little men.  Dr.
Mead had nothing but pretensions; and Philip Carteret Webb was a
sorry knave, with still less foundation.  To what a slender total
do those shrink who are the idols of their own age!  How very few
are known at all at the end of the next century!  But there is a
chapter in Voltaire that would cure any body of being a great man
even in his own eyes.  It is a chapter in which a Chinese goes
into a bookseller's shop, and marvels at not finding any of his
own country's classics.  It is a chapter that ought never to be
out of the sight of any vain author.  I have just got the
catalogue of the Manuscripts in the Museum.  It is every way
piteously dear; the method is extremely puzzling, and the
contents chiefly rubbish: who would give a rush for Dr. Birch's
correspondence?  many of the pieces are in print.  In truth, I
set little store by a collection of manuscripts.  A work must be
of little value that never could get into print; I mean, if it
has existed half a century.  The articles that diverted me most
were an absolute novelty; I knew Henry VIII. was a royal author,
but not a royal quack.  There are several receipts of his own,
and this delectable one amongst others.  "The King's Grace's
oyntement made at St. James's, to coole, and dry, and comfort the
--."  Another, to the same purpose, was devised at Cawoode,--was
not that an episcopal palace?  How devoutly was the head of the
church employed!  I hope that you have recovered your spirits;
and that summer, which is arrived at last, will make a great
amendment in you.



Letter 251To The Earl Of Strafford.
Strawberry Hill, August 16, 1782. (page 317)

If this letter reaches your lordship, I believe it must be
conveyed by a dove; for we are all under water, and a postman has
not where to set the sole of his foot.  They tell me, that in the
north you have not been so drowned, which will be very fortunate:
for in these parts every thing is to be apprehended for the corn,
the sheep, and the camps: but, in truth, all kinds of prospects
are most gloomy, and even in lesser lights uncomfortable.  Here
we cannot stir, but armed for battle.  Mr. Potts, who lives at
Mr. Hindley's, was attacked and robbed last week at the end of
Gunnersbury-lane, by five footpads who had two blunderbusses.
Lady Browne and I do continue going to Twickenham park; but I
don't know how long it will be prudent, nor whether it is so now.

I have not been at Park-place, for Mr. Conway is never there, at
least only for a night or two.  His regiment was reviewed
yesterday at Ashford-common, but I did not go to see it.  In
truth, I have so little taste for common sights, that I never yet
did see a review in my life: I was in town last week, yet saw not
Monsieur de Grasse;(482) nor have seen the giant or the dwarf.

Poor Mrs. Clive is certainly very declining, but has been better
of late; and which I am glad of, thinks herself better.  All
visions that comfort one are desirable: the conditions of
mortality do not bear being pryed into; nor am I an admirer of
that philosophy that scrutinizes into them: the philosophy of
deceiving one's self is vastly preferable.  What signifies
anticipating what we cannot prevent?

I do not pretend to send your lordship any news, for I do not
know a tittle, nor inquire.  Peace is the sole event of which I
wish to hear.  For private news, I have outlived almost all the
world with which I was acquainted, and have no curiosity about
the next generation, scarce more than about the twentieth
century.  I wish I was less indifferent, for the sake of the few
with whom I correspond,-your lordship in particular, who are
always so good and partial to me, and on whom I should
indubitably wait, were I fit to take a long journey; but as I
walk no better than a tortoise, I make a conscience of not
incommodating my friends, whom I should Only Confine at home.
Indeed both my feet and hands are so lame, that I now scarce ever
dine abroad.  Being so antiquated and insipid, I will release
your lordship; and am, with my unalterable respects to Lady
Strafford, your lordship's most devoted humble servant.

(482) The Comte de Grasse, the admiral of the French fleet which
Rodney defeated on the 12th of April, 1782, and who had struck
his flag in that engagement to the Barbeur, and surrendered
himself to Sir Samuel Hood, landed at Portsmouth, as a prisoner
of war, on the 5th of August.-E.



Letter 252 To The Hon. H. S. Conway.(483)
Strawberry Hill, August 20, 1782. (page 318)

You know I am too reasonable to expect to hear from you when you
are so overwhelmed in business, or to write when I have nothing
upon earth to say.  I would come to town, but am to have company
on Thursday, and am engaged with Lady Cecilia at Ditton on
Friday,
and On Monday I am to dine and pass the day at Sion-hill; and, as
I am twenty years older than any body of my age, I am forced to
rest myself between my parties.  I feel this particularly at this
moment, as the allied houses of Lucan and Althorpe have just been
breakfasting here, and I am sufficiently fatigued.

I have not been at Oatlands for years; for consider I cannot
walk, much less climb a precipice; and the Duke of Newcastle has
none of the magnificence of petty princes in a romance or in
Germany, of furnishing calashes to those who visit his domains.
He is not undetermined about selling the place; but besides that
nobody is determined to buy it, he must have Lord Lincoln's
consent.

I saw another proud prince yesterday, your cousin Seymour from
Paris, and his daughter.  She was so dishevelled, that she looked
like a pattern doll that had been tumbled at the Custom-house.

I am mighty glad that war has gone to sleep like a paroli at
faro, and that the rain has cried itself to death; unless the
first would dispose of all the highwaymen, footpads, and
housebreakers, or the latter drown them, for nobody hereabouts
dare stir after dusk, nor be secure at home.  When you have any
interval Of Your little campaigns, I shall hope to see you and
Lady Ailesbury here.

(483) Now first printed.



Letter 253 To The Earl Of Buchan.(484)
Strawberry Hill, Sept. 15, 1782. (page 319)

I congratulate your lordship on the acquisition of a valuable
picture by Jameson.  The Memoirs of your Society I have not yet
received; but when I do, shall read it with great pleasure, and
beg your lordship to offer my grateful thanks to the members, and
to accept them yourself.

No literature appears here at this time of the year.  London, I
hear, is particularly empty.  Not only the shooting season is
begun, but till about seventeen days ago, there was nothing but
incessant rains, and not one summer's day.  A catalogue, in two
quartos, of the Manuscripts in the British Museum, and which
thence does not seem to contain great treasures, and Mr.
Tyrwhitt's book on the Rowleian controversy, which is reckoned
completely victorious, are all the novelties I have seen since I
left town.  War and politics occupy those who think at all-no
great number neither; and most of those, too, are content with
the events of the day, and forget them the next.  But it is too
like an old man to blame the age; and, as I have nothing to do
with it, I may as well be silent and let it please itself.  I am,
with great regard, my lord, yours, etc.

(484) Now first collected.



Letter 254 To The Hon. H. S. Conway.
Strawberry Hill, Sept. 17, 1782. (page 319)

I had not time yesterday to say what I had to say about your
coming hither.  I should certainly be happy to see you and Lady
Ailesbury at any time: but it would be unconscionable to expect
it when you have scarce a whole day in a month to pass at your
own house, and to look after your own works.  Friends, I know,
lay as great stress upon trifles as upon serious points; but as
there never was a more sincere attachment than mine, so it is the
most reasonable one too for I always think for you more than
myself.  Do whatever you have to do, and be assured, that is what
I like best that you should do.  The present hurry cannot last
always.  Your present object is to show how much more fit you are
for your post(485) than any other man; by which you will do
infinite service too, and will throw a great many private acts of
good-nature and justice into the account.  Do you think I would
stand in the way of any of these things? and that I am not aware
of them?  Do you think about me?  If it suits you at any moment,
come.  Except Sunday next, when I am engaged to dine abroad, I
have nothing to do till the middle of October, when I shall go to
Nuneham; and, going or coming, may possibly catch you at
Park-place.

I am not quite credulous about your turning smoke into gold:(486)
it is perhaps because I am ignorant.  I like Mr. Mapleton
extremely; and though I have lived so long, that I have little
confidence, I think you could not have chosen one more likely to
be faithful.  I am sensible that my kind of distrust would
prevent all great enterprises; and yet I cannot but fear, that
unless one gives one's self' up entirely to the pursuit of a new
object, this risk must be doubled.  But I will say no more; for I
do not even wish to dissuade you, as I am sure I understand
nothing of the matter, and therefore mean no more than to keep
your discretion awake.

The tempest of Monday night alarmed me too for the fleet: and as
I have nothing to do but to care, I feel for individuals as well
as for the public, and think of all those who may be lost, and of
all those who may be made miserable by such loss.  Indeed, I care
most for individuals; for as to the public, it seems to be
totally insensible to every thing! I know nothing worth
repeating; and having now answered all your letter, shall bid you
good night.  Yours ever.

(485) Mr. Conway was now commander-in-chief.

(486) Alluding to the coke-ovens, for which Mr. Conway afterwards
obtained a patent.



Letter 255 To The Earl Of Strafford.
Strawberry Hill, Oct. 3, 1782. (page 320)

I did think it long since I had the honour of hearing from your
lordship; but, conscious how little I could repay you with any
entertainment, I waited with patience.  In fact, I believe
summer-correspondences often turn on complaints of want of news.
it is unlucky that that is generally the season of
correspondence, as it is of separation.  People assembled in a
capital contrive to furnish matter, but then they have not
occasion to write it.  Summer, being the season of campaigns,
ought to be more fertile: I am glad when that is not the case,
for what is an account of battles but a list of burials?
Vultures and birds of prey might write with pleasure to their
correspondents in the Alps of such events; but they ought to be
melancholy topics to those who have no beaks or talons.  At this
moment if I was an epicure among the sharks, I should rejoice
that General Elliot has just sent the carcases of fifteen hundred
Spaniards down to market under Gibraltar;(487) but I am more
pleased that he despatched boats, and saved some of those whom he
had overset.  What must a man of so much feeling have suffered at
being forced to do his duty so well as he has done!  I remember
hearing such another humane being, that brave old admiral Sir
Charles Wager, say, that in his life be had never killed a fly.

This demolition of the Spanish armada is a great event: a very
good one if it prevents a battle between Lord Howe and the
combined fleets, as I should hope; and yet better if it produces
peace, the only political crisis to which I look with eagerness.
Were that happy
moment arrived, there is ample matter to employ our great men, if
we have any, in retrieving the affairs of this country, if they
are to be retrieved.  But though our sedentary politicians write
abundance of letters in the newspapers, full of plans of public
spirit, I doubt the nation is not sober enough to set about its
own work in earnest.  When none reform themselves, little good is
to be expected, We see by the excess of highwaymen how far evils
may go before any attempt is made to cure them.  I am sure, from
the magnitude of this inconvenience, that I am not talking merely
like an old man.  I have lived here above thirty years, and used
to go every where round at all hours of the night without any
precaution.  I cannot now stir a mile from my own house after
sunset without one or two servants with blunderbusses.  I am not
surprised your lordship's pheasants were stolen: a woman was
taken last Saturday night loaded with nine geese, and they say
has impeached a gang Of fourteen housebreakers -but these are
undergraduates; when they should have taken their doctor's
degrees, they would not have piddled in such little game.  Those
regius-professors the nabobs have taught men not to plunder for
farthings.

I am very sensible of your lordship's kindness to my nephew Mr.
Cholmondeley.  He is a sensible, well-behaved young man, and, I
trust, would not have abused your goodness.  Mr. Mason writes to
me, that he shall be at York at the end of this month.  I was to
have gone to Nuneham; but the house is so little advanced, that
it is a question whether they can receive me. Mason, I doubt, has
been idle there.  I am sure, if he found no muses there, he could
pick up none at Oxford, where there is not so much as a bedmaker
that ever lived in a muse's family.  Tonton begs his duty to all
the lambs, and trusts that Lady Strafford will not reject his
homage.

(487) On the 13th of September, when General Elliot repulsed the
grand attack made on Gibraltar - and Captain Curtis of the
Brilliant, who commanded the marine brigade upon the occasion,
and his men, saved numbers of the Spaniards, at the hazard of
their own lives.-E.



Letter 256 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.
Strawberry Hill, Nov. 5, 1782. (page 321)

I had begun a letter in answer to another person, which I have
broken off on receiving yours, dear Sir.  I am exceedingly
concerned at the bad account you give of yourself; and yet on
weighing it, I flatter myself that you are not Only out of all
danger, but have had a fortunate crisis, which I hope will
Prolong your life.  A bile surmounted is a present from nature to
us, who are not boys: and though you speak as weary of life from
sufferings, and yet with proper resignation and philosophy, it
does not frighten me, as I know that any humour and gathering,
even in the gum, is strangely dispiriting.  I do not write merely
from sympathizing friendship, but to beg that if your bile is not
closed or healing, you will let me know; for the bark is
essential, yet very difficult to have genuine.  My apothecary
here, I believe, has some very good, and I will send you some
directly.

I will thank you, but not trouble you with an account of myself.
I had no fit of the gout, nor any new complaint; but it is with
the utmost difficulty I keep the humour from laming me entirely,
especially in my hands, which are a mine of chalk-stones; but, as
they discharge themselves, I flatter myself they prevent heavier
attacks.

I do take in the European Magazine, and think it in general one
of the best.  I forgot what was said of me: sometimes I am
corrected, sometimes flattered, and care for neither.  I have not
seen the answer to Mr. Warton, but will send for it.

I shall not be sorry on my own account if Dr. Lort quits Lambeth,
and comes to Saville-row, which is in my neighbourhood; but I did
not think a wife was the stall where he would set up his staff.

You have given me the only reason why I cannot be quite sorry
that you do not print what you had prepared for the press.  No
kind intention towards me from you surprises me-but then I want
no new proofs.  My wish, for whatever shall be the remainder of
my life is to be quiet and forgotten.  Were my course to
recommence, and one could think in youth as one does at
sixty-five, I have no notion I should have courage to appear as
an author.  Do you know, too, that I look on fame now as the
idlest of all visions? but this theme would lead me too far.

I collect a new comfort from your letter.  The writing is much
better than in most of your latest letters.  If your pain were
not ceased, you could not have formed your letters so firmly and
distinctly.  I will not say more, lest I should draw you into
greater fatigue; let me have but a single line in answer.  Yours
most cordially.(488)

(488) This is the last letter addressed by Walpole to Mr. Cole;
who died within six weeks of the date of it.  The event is thus
recorded by Mr. Gough, in the second volume of his edition of
Camden's Britannia.  "At Milton a small village on the Ely road,
was the retirement of the Rev. William Cole.  Here, Dec. 16,
1782, in his sixty-eighth year, he closed a life spent in learned
research into the history and antiquities of this county in
particular, which nothing but his declining state of health
prevented this work from sharing the benefit of.  He was buried
under the belfry of St. Clement's Church in Cambridge."-E.



Letter 257 To George Colman, Esq.(489)
Strawberry Hill, May 10, 1783. (page 322)

Dear Sir,
For so you must allow me to call you, after your being so kind as
to send me so valuable and agreeable a present as your
translation of Horace(490)--I wish compliment had left any term
uninvaded, Of which sincerity could make use without suspicion.
Those would be precisely what I would employ in commending your
poem; and, if they proved too simple to content my gratitude, I
would be satisfied with an offering to truth, and wait for a
nobler opportunity of sacrificing to the warmer virtue.  If I
have not lost my memory, your translation is the best I have ever
seen of that difficult epistle.  Your expression is easy and
natural, and when requisite, poetic.  In short, it has a prime
merit, it has the air of an original.

Your hypothesis in your commentary is very ingenious.  I do not
know whether it is true, which now cannot be known; but if the
scope of the epistle was, as you suppose, to hint in a delicate
and friendly manner to the elder of Piso's sons that he had
written a bad tragedy, Horace had certainly executed his plan
with great address; and, I think, nobody will be able to show
that any thing in the poem clashes with your idea.  Nay, if he
went farther, and meant to disguise his object, by giving his
epistle the air of general rules on poetry and tragedy, he
achieved both purposes; and while the youth his friend was at
once corrected and put to no shame, all other readers were kept
in the dark, except you, and diverted to different scents.(491)
Excuse my commenting your comment, but I had no other way of
proving that I really approve both your version and criticism
than by stating the grounds of my applause.  If you have wrested
the sense of the original to favour your own hypothesis, I have
not been able to discover your art; for I do not perceive where
it has been employed.  If you have given Horace more meaning than
he was intitled to, you have conferred a favour on him, for you
have made his whole epistle consistent, a beauty all the
spectacles of all his commentators could not find out-but,
indeed, they proceed on the profound laws of criticism, you by
the laws of common sense, which, marching on a plain natural
path, is very apt to arrive sooner at the goal, than they who
travel on the Appian Way; which was a very costly and durable
work, but is very uneasy, and at present does not lead to a
quarter of the places to which it was originally directed.

I am, Sir, with great regard, your most
obedient and obliged humble servant.

(489) Now first collected.

(490) His translation of Horace's Epistola ad Pisones de Arte
Poeticae.-E.

(491) It had been the opinion of Bishop Hurd, that - it was the
proper and sole purpose of ,Horace simply to criticise the Roman
drama;" but Mr. Colman assumed a contrary ground.  "If my
partiality to my lamented friend, Mr. Colman," says Dr. Joseph
Warton, "does not mislead me, I should think his account of the
matter the most judicious of any yet published.  He conceives
that the elder Piso had written, or meditated, a Poetical
work-probably, a tragedy, and had communicated his piece in
confidence to Horace; but Horace, either disapproving of the
work, or doubting of the poetical faculties of the elder Piso, or
both, wished to dissuade him from all thoughts of publication.
With this view he wrote his Epistle, addressing it, with a
courtliness and delicacy perfectly agreeable to his acknowledged
character, indifferently to the whole family, the father and his
two sons."-E.



Letter 258 To The Earl Of Buchan.(492)
Strawberry Hill, May 12, 1783. (page 324)

My lord,
I did not know, till I received the honour of your lordship's
letter, that any obstruction had been given to your charter.  I
congratulate your lordship and the Society on the defeat of that
opposition, which does not seem to have been a liberal one.  The
pursuit of national antiquities has rarely been an object, I
believe, with any university: why should they obstruct others
from marching in that track?  I have often thought the English
Society of Antiquaries have gone out of their way when they
meddled with Roman remains, especially if not discovered within
our island.  Were I to speak out, I should own, that I hold most
reliques of the Romans that have been found in Britain, of little
consequence, unless relating to such emperors as visited us.
Provincial armies stationed in so remote and barbarous a quarter
as we were then, acted little, produced little worth being
remembered.  Tombstones erected to legionary officers and their
families, now dignified by the title of inscriptions; and banks
and ditches that surrounded camps, which we understand much
better by books and plans, than by such faint fragments, are
given with much pomp, and tell us nothing new.  Your lordship's
new foundation seems to proceed on a much more rational and
useful plan.  The biography of the illustrious of your country
will be an honour to Scotland, to those illustrious, and to the
authors: and may contribute considerably to the general history;
for the investigation of particular lives may bring out many
anecdotes that may unfold secrets of state, or explain passages
in such histories as have been already written; especially as the
manners of the times may enter into private biography, though
before Voltaire manners were rarely weighed in general history,
though very often the sources of considerable events.  I shall be
very happy to see such lives as shall be published, while I
remain alive.  I cannot contribute any thing of consequence to
your lordship's meditated account of John Law.  I have heard many
anecdotes of him, though none that I can warrant, particularly
that of the duel for which he fled early.(493)  I met the other
day with an account in some French literary gazette, I forget
which, of his having carried off the wife of another man.  Lady
Catherine Law, his wife, lived, during his power in France, in
the most stately manner.  Your lordship knows, to be sure, that
he died and is buried at Venice.  I have two or three different
prints of him, and an excellent head of him in crayons by
Rosalba, the best of her portraits.  It is certainly very like,
for, were the flowing wig converted into a female head-dress, it
would be the exact resemblance of Lady Wallingford, his daughter,
whom I See frequently at the Duchess of Montrose's, and who has
by no means a look of the age to which she is arrived.  Law was a
very extraordinary man, but not at all an estimable one.

I don't remember whether I ever told your lordship that there are
many charters of your ancient kings preserved in the Scots
College at Paris, and probably many other curiosities.  I think I
did mention many paintings of the old house of Lenox in the
ancient castle at Aubigny.

(492) Now first collected.

(493) Evelyn, in his Diary, gives the following account of this
duel:--"April 22 1694.  A very young man, named Wilson, the
younger son of one who had not above two hundred pounds a-year
estate, lived in the garb and equipage of the richest nobleman,
for house, furniture, coaches, saddle-horses, and kept a table
and all things accordingly, redeemed his father's estate, and
gave portions to his sisters, being challenged by one Laws, a
Scotchman, was killed in a duel, not fairly.  The quarrel arose
from his taking away his own sister from a lodging in a house
where this Laws had a mistress , which the mistress of the house
thinking a disparagement to it, and losing by it, instigated Laws
to this duel.  He was taken, and condemned for murder.  The
mystery is, how this so young a gentleman, very sober and of good
fame, could live in such an expensive manner; it could not be
discovered by all possible industry, or entreaty of his friends
to make him reveal it.  It did not appear that he was kept by
women, play, coining, padding, or dealing in chemistry; but he
would sometimes say, that, if he should live ever so long, he had
wherewith to maintain himself in the same manner, This was a
subject Of much discourse." Law was found guilty of murder, and
sentence of death was passed upon him.  He however, found means
to escape, and got clear off to the Continent.  A reward of fifty
bounds for is apprehension appeared in the London Gazette of the
7th of January, 1695.-E.



Letter 259 To The Hon. George Hardinge.
Berkeley Square, May 17, 1783. (page 325)

Though I shall not be fixed at Strawberry on this day fortnight,
I will accept your offer, dear Sir, because my time is more at my
disposal than yours, and you May not have any other day to bestow
upon me later.  I thank you for your second: which I shall read
as carefully as I did the former.  It is not your fault if you
have not yet made Sir Thomas Rumbold white as driven snow to
Me.(494)  Nature has providentially given us a powerful antidote
to eloquence, or the criminal that has the best advocate would
escape.  But, when rhetoric.  and logic stagger my lords the
judges, in steps prejudice, and, without one argument that will
make a syllogism, confutes Messrs. Demosthenes, Tully, and
Hardinge, and makes their lordships see as clearly as any old
woman in England, that belief is a much better rule Of faith than
demonstration.  This is Just my case: I do believe, nay, and I
will believe, that no man ever went to India with honest
intentions.  If he returns with 100,000 pounds it is plain that I
was in the right.  But I have still a stronger proof; my Lord
Coke says "Set a thief to catch a thief;" my Lord Advocate(495)
says, "Sir Thomas is a rogue:" ergo.--I cannot give so complete
an answer to the rest of your note, as I trust I have done to
your pleadings, because the latter is in print, and your note is
manuscript.  Now, unfortunately, I cannot read half of it; for,
give me leave to say, that either your hand or my spectacles are
so bad, that I generally guess at your meaning rather than
decipher it, and this time the context has not served me well.

(494) The bill of pains and penalties against Sir Thomas Rumbold,
late governor of Madras, was at this time in its progress through
the House of Commons.  On the 1st of July, the further
proceedings upon the bill were adjourned to the 1st of October;
by which means the whole business fell to the ground.-E.

(495) Mr. Dundas, afterwards Lord Melville.  "I think him," said
Mr. Wilberforce, in June, 1781, "the first speaker on the
ministerial side in the House of Commons, and there is a
manliness in his character which prevents his running away from
the question; he grants all his adversaries' premises, and fights
them On their own ground." Life, vol. i. P. 21.-E.



Letter 260 To The Earl Of Strafford.
Strawberry Hill, June 24, 1783. (page 326)

Though your lordship's partiality extends even to my letters, you
must perceive that they grow as antiquated as the writer.  News
are the soul of letters: when we give them a body of our own
invention, it is as unlike to life as a statue.  I have withdrawn
so much from the -world, that the newspapers know every thing
before me, especially since they have usurped the province of
telling every thing, private as -well as public: and
consequently, a great deal more than I should -wish to know, or
like to report.  When I do hear the transactions of much younger
people, they do not pass from my ears into my memory; nor does
your lordship interest yourself more about them than I do.  Yet
still, when one reduces one's departments to such narrow limits,
one's correspondence suffers by it.  However, as I desire to show
only my gratitude and attachment, not my wit, I shall certainly
obey your lordship as long as you are content to read my letters,
after I have told you fairly how little they can entertain you.

For imports of French, I believe we shall have few more.  They
have not ruined us so totally by the war, much less enriched
themselves so much by it, but that they who have been here,
complained so piteously of the expensiveness of England, that
probably they will deter others from a similar jaunt; nor, such
is their fickleness, are the French Constant to any thing but
admiration of themselves.  Their Anglomanie I hear has mounted,
or descended, from our customs to our persons.  English people
are in fashion at Versailles.  A Mr. Ellis,(496) who wrote some
pretty verses at Bath two or three years ago, is a favourite
there.  One who was so, or may be still, the Beau Dillon, came
upon a very different errand; in short, to purchase at any price
a book written by Linguet, which was just coming out, called
"Antoinette." That will tell your lordship why the Beau
Dillon(497) was the messenger.

Monsieur de Guignes and his daughters came hither; but it was at
eight o'clock at night in the height of the deluge.  You may be
sure I was much flattered by such a visit!  I was forced to light
candles to show them any thing; and must have lighted the moon to
show them the views.  If this is their way of seeing England,
they might as well look at it with an opera-glass from the shores
of Calais.

Mr. Mason is to come to me on Sunday, and will find me mighty
busy in making my lock of hay, which is not Yet cut.  I don't
know why, but people are always more anxious about their hay than
their corn, or twenty other things that cost them more.  I
suppose my Lord Chesterfield, or some such dictator, made it
fashionable to care about one's hay.  Nobody betrays solicitude
about getting in his rents.

We have exchanged spring and summer for autumn and winter, as
well as day for night.  If religion or law enjoined people to
love light, and prospect, and verdure, I should not wonder if
perverseness made us hate them; no, nor if society made us prefer
living always in town to solitude and beauty.  But that is not
the case.  The most fashionable hurry into the country at
Christmas and Easter, let the weather be ever so bad; and the
finest ladies, who will go no whither till eleven at night,
certainly pass more tiresome hours in London alone than they
would in the country.  But all this is no business of mine: they
do what they like, and so do I; and I am exceedingly tolerant
about people who are perfectly indifferent to me.  The sun and
the seasons were not gone out of fashion when I was young; and I
may do what I will with them now I am old: for fashion is
fortunately no law but to its devotees.  Were I five-and-twenty,
I dare to say I should think every whim of my contemporaries very
wise, as I did then.  In one light I am always on the side of the
Young, for they only silently despise those who do not conform to
their ordinances; but age is very apt to be angry at the change
of customs, and partial to others no better founded.  It is happy
when we are occupied by nothing more serious.  It is happy for a
nation when mere fashions are a topic that can employ its
attention; for, though dissipation may lead to graver moments, it
commences with ease and tranquillity: and they at least who live
before the scene shifts are fortunate, considering and comparing
themselves with the various regions who enjoy no parallel
felicity.  I confess my reflections are couleur de rose at
present.  I did not much expect to live to see peace, without far
more extensive ruin than has fallen on us.  I will not probe
futurity in search of less agreeable conjectures.
Prognosticators may see many seeds of dusky hue; but I am too old
to look forwards.  Without any omens, common sense tells one,
that in the revolution of ages nations must have unprosperous
periods.  But why should I torment myself for what may happen in
twenty years after my death, more than for what may happen in two
hundred?  Nor shall I be more interested in the one than in the
other.  This is no indifference for my country: I wish it could
always be happy; but so I do to all other countries.  Yet who
could ever pass a tranquil moment, if such future speculations
vexed him?

Adieu, my good lord!  I doubt this letter has more marks of
senility than the one I announced at the beginning.  When I had
no news to send you, it was no reason for tiring you with
commonplaces.  But your lordship's indulgence spoils me.  Does
not it look as if I thought, that, because you commend my
letters, you would like whatever I say?  Will not Lady Strafford
think that I abuse your patience?  I ask both your pardons, and
am to both a most devoted humble servant.

(496) George Ellis, Esq.; afterwards a contributor to "The
Rolliad;" a coadjutor of Mr. Canning and Mr. Frere in "The
Anti-Jacobin," and editor of "Specimens of Ancient English
Romances," etc.  He died in 1815, at the age of seventy.  Sir
Walter Scott, in the introduction to the fifth canto of Marmion,
thus addresses him-


Thou, who can give to lightest lay
An unpedantic moral gay,
Nor less the dullest theme bid flit
On wings of unexpected wit;
In letters as in life approved,
Example honour'd and beloved;
Dear Ellis! to the bard impart
A lesson of thy magic art
 To win at once the head and heart,-
At once to charm, instruct, and mend,
My guide, my pattern, and my friend!"-E.

(497) "Colonel Edward Dillon was particularly acquainted with
him," says Wraxall, in his posthumous Memoirs; "he descended, I
believe, collaterally from the noble Irish family of the Earls of
Roscommon, though his father carried on the trade of a
wine-merchant at Bordeaux; but he was commonly called 'Le Comte
Edouard Dillon,' and 'Le Beau Dillon.'  In my estimation, he
possessed little pretense to the latter epithet: but surpassed
most men in stature, like Lord Whitworth, Lord Hugh Seymour, and
the other individuals on whom Marie Antoinette cast a favourable
eye.  That she showed him some imprudent marks of predilection at
a ball, which, when they took place, excited Comment, is true;
but they prove only indiscretion and levity on her part."-E.



Letter 261 To The Earl Of Strafford.
Strawberry Hill, August 1, 1783. (page 328)

It would be great happiness indeed to me, my dear lord, if such
nothings as my letters could contribute to any part of your
lordship's; but as your own partiality bestows their chief merit
on them, you see they owe More to your friendship than to the
writer.  It is not my interest to depreciate them; much less to
undermine the foundation of their sole worth.  Yet it would be
dishonest not to warn your lordship, that if my letters have had
any intrinsic recommendation, they must lose of it every day.
Years and frequent returns of gout have made a ruin of me.
Dulness, in the form of indolence, grows upon me.  I am inactive,
lifeless, and so indifferent to most things.  that I neither
inquire after nor remember any topics that might enliven my
letters.  Nothing is so insipid as my way of passing MY time.
But I need not specify what my letters speak.  They can have no
spirit left; and would be perfectly inanimate, if attachment and
gratitude to your lordship were as liable to be extinguished by
old age as our more amusing qualities.  I make no new connexions;
but cherish those that remain' with all the warmth of youth and
the piety of gray hairs.

The weather here has been, and is, with very few intervals,
sultry to this moment.  I think it has been of service to me;
though by overheating Myself I had a few days of lameness.  The
harvest is half over already all round us; and so pure, that not
a poppy or cornflower is to be seen.  Every field seems to have
been weeded like Brisco's bowling-green.  If Ceres, who is at
least as old as many of our fashionable ladies, loves tricking
herself out in flowers as they do, she must be mortified: and
with more reason; for she looks well always with top-knots of
ultramarine and vermilion, which modern goddesses do not for half
so long as they think they do.  As Providence showers so many
blessings on us, I wish the peace may confirm them!  Necessary I
am sure it was; and when it cannot restore us, where should we
have been had the war continued?  Of our situation and prospect I
confess my opinion is melancholy, not from present politics but
from past.  We flung away the most brilliant position, I doubt,
for a long season!  With politics I have totally done.  I wish
the present ministers may last; for I think better of their
principles than of those of their opponents (with a few salvos on
both sides,) and so I do of their abilities.  But it would be
folly in me to concern myself about new generations.  How little
a way can I see of their progress!

I am rather surprised at the new Countess of Denbigh.  How could
a woman be ambitious of resembling Prometheus, to be pawed and
clawed and gnawed by a vulture?(498)  I beg your earldom's
pardon; but I could not conceive that a coronet was so very
tempting!

Lady Browne is quite recovered, unless she relapses from what we
suffer at Twickenham-park from a Lord Northesk,(499) an old
seaman, who is come to Richmond on a visit to the Duke of
Montrose.  I think the poor man must be out of his senses, at
least he talks us out of ours.  It is the most incessant and
incoherent rhapsody that ever was heard.  He sits by the
card-table, and pours on Mrs.  N * * * all that ever happened in
his voyages or his memory.  He details the ship's allowance, and
talks to her as if she was his first-mate.  Then in the mornings
he carries his daughter to town to see St. Paul's, and the Tower,
and Westminster Abbey; and at night disgorges all he has seen,
till we don't know the ace of spades from Queen Elizabeth's
pocket-pistol in the armoury.  Mercy on us! And mercy on your
lordship too! Why should you be stunned with that alarum? Have
you had your earthquake, my lord?  Many have had theirs.  I
assure you I have had mine.  Above a week ago, when broad awake,
the doors of the cabinet by my bedside rattled, without a breath
of wind.  I imagined somebody was walking on the leads, or had
broken into the room under me.  It was between four and five in
the morning.  I rang my bell.  Before my servant could come it
happened again; and was exactly like the horizontal tremor I felt
from the earthquake some years ago.  As I had rung once, it is
plain I was awake.  I rang again; but heard nothing more.  I am
quite persuaded there was some commotion; nor is it surprising
that the dreadful eruptions of fire on the coasts of Italy and
Sicily(500) should have occasioned some alteration that has
extended faintly, hither, and contributed to the heats and mists
that have been so extraordinary.  George Montagu said of our last
earthquake, that it was so tame you might have stroked it.  It is
comfortable to live where one can reason on them without dreading
them! What satisfaction should you have in having erected such a
monument of your taste, my lord, as Wentworth Castle, if you did
not know but it might be overturned in a moment and crush you?
Sir William Hamilton is expected: he has been groping in all
those devastations.  Of all vocations I would not be a professor
of earthquakes!  I prefer studies that are couleur de rose; nor
would ever think of calamities, if I can do nothing To relieve
them.  Yet this is a weakness of mind that I do not defend.  They
are more respectable who can behold philosophically the great
theatre of events, or rather this little theatre of ours!  In
some ampler sphere, they may look on the catastrophe of
Messina(501) as we do kicking to Pieces an ant-hill.

Bless me! what a farrago is my letter!  It is like the extracts
of books in a monthly magazine! I had no right to censure poor
Lord Northesk's ramblings!  Lady Strafford will think he has
infected me.  Good-night, my dear lord and lady! Your ever
devoted.

(498) An allusion to Lord Denbigh's figure, and his arms blazoned
on a spread eagle.-E.

(499) George, sixth Earl of Northesk, a naval officer of
distinction, who attained the rank of admiral of the white.  He
died in 1792.-E.

(500) In the course of this year a series of violent earthquakes
occurred in Calabria and Sicily.  In February, the city of Casal
Nuova was entirely swallowed up; and the Princess Gerace
Grimaldi, with more than four thousand persons, perished in an
instant.  The inhabitants of Scylla, who, headed by their Prince,
had descended from the rock and taken refuge on the sea-shore,
were all washed away by an enormous wave, on its return from the
land which it had inundated.-E.

(501) Messina, and all the northern parts of Sicily, suffered
greatly by the convulsions of nature alluded to in the preceding
note.-E.



Letter 262 To The Hon. H. S. Conway.
Strawberry Hill, August 15, 1783. (page 330)

The address from the Volunteers is curious indeed, and upon the
first face a little Irish.  What! would they throw off our
Parliament, and yet amend it? It is like correcting a question in
the House of Commons, and then voting against it.  But I suppose
they rather mean to increase confusion here, that we may not be
at leisure to impede their progress; at least this may be the
intention of the leaders.  Large bodies are only led by being
earnest in themselves, when their leaders are not so: but my head
is not clear enough to apply it to different matters, nor could I
do any good if it were.  Our whole system is become a disjointed
chaos, and time must digest it, or blow it up shortly.  I see no
way into it, nor expect any thing favourable but from chance,
that often stops confusion on a sudden.  To restore us by any
system, it would require a single head furnished with wisdom,
temper, address, fortitude, full and undivided power, and sincere
patriotism divested of all personal views.  Where is that prodigy
to be found? and how should it have the power, if it had all the
rest?  And if it had the power, how could it be divested of that
power again?  And if it were not, how long would it retain its
virtues?  Power and wisdom would soon unite, like Antony and
Augustus, to annihilate their colleague virtue, for being a poor
creature like Lepidus.  In short, the mass of matter is too big
for me: I am going Out of the world, and cannot trouble myself
about it.  I do think of your part in it, and wish to preserve
you where you are, for the benefits that you may contribute.  I
have a high opinion of Mr. Fox, and believe that by frankness you
may become real friends, which would be greatly advantageous to
the country.  There is no competition in my mind where you are
concerned: but Fox is the minister with whom I most wish you
united,-indeed, to all the rest I am indifferent or adverse: but,
besides his superior abilities, he has a liberality of acting
that is to my taste; it is like my father's plainness, and has
none of the paltry little finesses of a statesman.

Your parties do not tempt me, because I am not well enough to
join in them: nor yet will they stop me, though I had rather find
only you and Lady Ailesbury and Mrs. Damer.  I am not seriously
ill; nay, am better upon the whole than I was last year: but I
perceive decays enough in myself to be sensible that the scale
may easily be inclined to the worst side.  This observation makes
'me very indifferent to every thing that is not much at my heart.
Consequently what concerns you is, as it has always been for
above forty years, a principal object.  Adieu!



Letter 263To The Hon. H. S. Conway.(502)

Strawberry Hill, Sunday, August 27, 1783. (page 331)

Though I begin my letter on and have dated it Sunday, I recollect
that it may miss you if you go to town on Tuesday, and therefore
I shall not send it to the post till to-morrow.  I can give you
but an indifferent account of myself.  I went to Lord Dacre's:
but whether the heat and fatigue were too much for me, or whether
the thunder turned me sour, for I am at least as weak as
small-beer, I came back with the gout in my left hand and right
foot.  The latter confined me for three days; but though my ankle
is still swelled, I do not stay in my house: however I am
frightened, and shall venture no more expeditions yet; for my
hands and feet are both SO lame, that I am neither comfortable to
myself or any body else, abroad, when I must confine them, stay
by myself or risk pain, which the least fatigue gives me.  At
this moment I have a worse embargo even than lameness on me.  The
Prince d'Hessenstein has written to offer me a visit--I don't
know when.  I have just answered his note, and endeavoured to
limit its meaning to the shortest sense I could, by proposing to
give him a dinner or a breakfast.  I would keep my bed rather
than crack our northern French together for twelve hours.

I know nothing upon earth but my own disasters.  Another is, that
all yesterday I thought all my gold-fish stolen.  I am not sure
that they are not; but they tell me they keep at the bottom of
the water from the hot weather.  It is all to be laded out
to-morrow morning, and then I shall know whether they are gone or
boiled.

Whenever the weather cools to an English consistence, I will see
you at Park-place or in town: but I think not at the former
before the end of next month, unless I recover more courage than
I have at present; for if I was to get a real fit, and be
confined to my bed in such sultry days, I should not have
strength to go through it.  I have just fixed three new benches
round my bowling-green, that I may make four journeys of the
tour.  Adieu!

Monday morning.

As I was rising this morning, I received an express from your
daughter, that she will bring Madame de Cambis and Lady Melbourne
to dinner here to-morrow.  I shall be vastly pleased with the
party, but it puts Philip and Margaret to their wit's end to get
them a dinner: nothing is to be had here; we must send to
Richmond, and Kingston, and Brentford; I must borrow Mr. Ellis's
cook, and somebody's confectioner, and beg somebody's fruit, for
I have none of these of my own, nor know any thing of the matter:
but that is Philip and Margaret's affair, and not mine; and the
worse the dinner is, the more Gothic Madame de Cambis will think
it.

I have been emptying my pond, which was more in my head than the
honour of my kitchen; and in the mud of the troubled water I have
found all my gold, as Dunning and Barr`e(503) did last year.  I
have taken out fifteen young fish of a year and a half old for
Lady Ailesbury, and reserved them as an offering worthy of
Amphitrite in the vase, in the cat's vase,(504) amidst the azure
flowers that blow.  They are too portly to be carried in a
smelling-bottle in your pocket.  I wish you could plan some way
of a waterman's calling for them, and transporting them to
Henley.  They have not changed their colour, but will next year.
How lucky it would be, should you meet your daughter about
Turnham Green, and turn back with them!

(502) Now first printed.

503) In the preceding year, through the influence of Lord
Shelburne, a considerable pension had been granted to Colonel
Barr`e, and a peerage and pension to Mr. Dunning.-E.

(504) The china vase in which Walpole's favourite cat Selima was
drowned.  See Gray's Works, vol. i. p. 6.-E.



Letter 264 To The Earl Of Strafford.
Strawberry Hill, Sept. 12, 1783. (page 332)

Your lordship tells me you hope my summer has glided pleasantly,
like our Thames- I cannot say it has passed very pleasantly to
me, though, like the Thames, dry and low; for somehow or other I
caught a rheumatic fever in the great heats, and cannot get rid
of it.  I have just been at Park-place and Nuneham, in hopes
change of air would cure me; but to no purpose.  Indeed, as want
of sleep is my chief complaint, I doubt I must make use of a very
different and more disagreeable remedy, the air of London, the
only place that I ever find agree with me when I am out of order.
I was there for two nights a fortnight ago, and slept perfectly
well.  In vain has my predilection for Strawberry made me try to
persuade myself that this was all fancy: but, I fear, reasons
that appear strong, though contrary to our inclinations, must be
good ones.  London at this time of year is as nauseous a drug as
any in an apothecary's shop.  I could find nothing at all to do,
and so went to Astley's, `which indeed was much beyond my
expectation.  I do not wonder any longer that Darius was chosen
king by the instructions he gave to his horse; nor that Caligula
made 'his consul.  Astley can make his dance minuets and
hornpipes: which is more extraordinary than to make them vote at
an election, or act the part of a magistrate, which animals of
less capacities can perform as dexterously as a returning officer
or a master in chancery.  But I shall not have even Astley now:
her Majesty the Queen of France, who has as much taste as
Caligula, has sent for the whole dramatis personae to Paris.  Sir
William Hamilton was at Park-place, and gave us dreadful accounts
of Calabria: he looks much older, and has the patina of a bronze.

At Nuneham I was much pleased with the improvements both within
doors and without.  Mr. Mason was there; and as he shines in
every art, was assisting Mrs. Harcourt with his new discoveries
in painting, by which he will unite miniature and oil.  Indeed,
she is a very apt and extraordinary scholar.  Since our
professors seem to have lost the art of colouring, I am glad at
least that they have ungraduated assessors.

We have plenty and peace at last; consequently leisure for
repairing some of our losses, if we have sense to set about the
task.  On what will happen I shall make no conjectures, as it is
not likely I should see much of what is to come.  Our
 enemies have humbled us enough to content them; and we have
succeeded so ill in innovations, that surely we shall not tempt
new storms in haste.

>From this place I can send your lordship  new or entertaining,
nor expect more game in town, whither nothing but search of
health should carry me.  Perhaps it is a vain chase at my age;
but at my age one cannot trust to Nature's operating cures
without aiding her; it is always time enough to abandon one's
self when no care will palliate our decays.  I hope your lordship
and Lady Strafford will long be in no want of such attentions;
nor should I -have talked so Much of my own cracks, had I had any
thing else to tell you.  It would be silly to aim at vivacity
when it is gone: and, though a lively old man is sometimes an
agreeable being, a pretending old man is ridiculous.  Aches and
an apothecary cannot give one genuine spirits; 'tis sufficient if
they do not make one peevish' Your lordship is so kind as to
accept of me as I am, and you shall find nothing more counterfeit
in me than the sincere respect and gratitude with which I have
the honour to be your lordship's most devoted humble servant.



Letter 265 To The Earl Of Strafford.
Strawberry Hill, Oct. 11, 1783. (page 334)

My rheumatism, I thank your lordship, is certainly better, though
not quite gone.  It was very troublesome at night till I took the
bark; but that medicine makes me sleep like opium.  But I will
say no more about it, nothing is so troublesome as to talk of
chronical complaints: has one any right to draw on the compassion
of others, when one must renew the address daily and for months?

The aspect of Ireland is very tempestuous.(505)  I doubt they
will hurt us materially without benefiting themselves.  If they
obtain very short parliaments, they will hurt themselves more
than us, by introducing a confusion that will prevent their
improvements.  Whatever country does adopt short parliaments,
will, I am entirely persuaded, be forced to recur to their former
practice; I mean, if the disorders introduced do not produce
despotism of some sort or other.  I am very sorry Mr. Mason
concurs in trying to revive the Associations.(506)  Methinks our
state is so deplorable, that every healing measure ought to be
attempted instead of innovations.  For my own part, I expect
nothing but distractions, and am not concerned to be so old.  I
am so old, that, were I disposed to novelties, I should think
they little became my age.  I should be ashamed, when my hour
shall come, to be caught in a riot of country squires and
parsons, and haranguing a mob with a shaking head.  A leader of
faction ought to be young and vigorous.  If an aged gentleman
does get an ascendant, he may be sure that younger men are
counting on his exit, and only flatter him to succeed to his
influence, while they are laughing at his misplaced activity.  At
least, these would be my thoughts, who of all things dread being
a jest to the juvenile, if they find me out of my sphere.

I have seen Lord Carlisle's play, and it has a great deal of
merit--perhaps more than your lordship would expect.  The
language and images are the best part, after the two principal
scenes, which are really fine.(507)

I did, as your lordship knows and says, always like and esteem
Lady Fitzwilliam.  I scarce know my lord; but, from what I have
heard of him in the House of Lords, have conceived a good opinion
of his sense; of his character I never heard any ill; which is a
great testimonial in his favour, when there are so many horrid
characters, and when all that are conspicuous have their minutest
actions tortured to depose against them.

You may be sure, my dear lord, that I heartily pity Lady
Strafford's and your loss of four-legged friends.  Sense and
fidelity are wonderful recommendations; and when one meets with
them, and can be confident that one is not imposed upon, I cannot
think that the two additional legs are any drawback.  At least I
know that I have had friends who would never have vexed or
betrayed me, if they had walked on all-fours.

I have no news to send your lordship; indeed I inquire for none,
nor wish to hear any.  Whence is any good to come?  I am every
day surprised at hearing people eager for news.  If there is any,
they are sure of hearing it.  How can one be curious to know one
does not know what; and perpetually curious to know?  Has one
nothing to do but to hear and relate something new?  And why can
one care about nothing but what one does not know?  And why is
every event worth hearing, only because one has not heard it?
Have not there been changes enough? divorces enough? bankruptcies
and robberies enough?  and, above all, lies enough?  No: or
people would not be everyday impatient for the newspaper.  I own,
I am glad on Sunday when there is no paper(508) and no fresh lies
circulating. Adieu, my good lord and lady! May you long enjoy
your tranquillity, undisturbed by villany, folly, and madness!

(505) The Volunteer Corps of Ireland had long entertained
projects for reforming the parliamentary representation of the
country, and had appointed delegates for carrying that object
into effect.  In September they met at Dungannon when a plan of
reform was proposed and agreed upon, and the 10th of November
fixed on for a convention at Dublin of the representatives of the
whole body of Volunteers.  "Many gentlemen," says Mr. Hardy, in
his Memoirs of Lord Charlemont, "must have seen a letter of Mr.
Fox, then secretary of state, to General Burgoyne, at that time
commander-in-chief in Ireland, on the subject Convention.  It was
written with the spirit of a patriot and wisdom of a true
statesman.  In his ardour for a parliamentary reform, he yielded,
he said, to none of the Convention, but he dreaded the
consequences of such a proceeding; and would, he added, lament it
as the deepest misfortune of his life, if, by any untoward Steps
then taken, and whilst he was minister, the two kingdoms should
be separated, or run the Slightest risk of separation."-E.

(506) "The Yorkshire Association had been formed in 1779, from
the gentry of moderate fortunes and the more substantial yeomen.,
under the pressure of those burdens which resulted from the war
with America, with the view of obtaining, first, an economical,
and then a parliamentary reform; but in the various changes which
soon afterwards perplexed the political world, its first object
was almost forgotten, and its most important character was the
front Of Opposition which it now maintained against that powerful
aristocracy which had long ruled the country with absolute
dominion.  It now declared against the Coalition administration."
Life of Wilberforce, vol. i. p. 51.-E.

(507) Of Lord Carlisle's tragedy, entitled " The Father's
Revenge,' Dr. Johnson also entertained a favourable opinion.  "Of
the sentiments," he says, "I remember not one I wished omitted.
in the imagery, I cannot forbear to distinguish the comparison of
joy succeeding grief to light rushing on the eye accustomed to
darkness.  It seems to have all that can be desired to make it
please: it is new, just, and delightful.  With the characters,
either as conceived or preserved, I have no fault to find; but
was much inclined to congratulate a writer, who, in defiance of
prejudice and fashion, made the Archbishop a good man, and
scorned all thoughtless applause which a vicious churchman would
have brought him."  It was with reference to this tragedy, that
Lord Byron regretted the flippant and unjust sarcasms against his
noble relation, which he had admitted into the early editions of
his "English Bards and Scotch Reviewers," under the mistaken
impression that Lord Carlisle had intentionally slighted him.-E.

(508) What would Walpole say, if he could witness the alteration
which has taken place in this respect since the year 1783?-E.



Letter 266 To Lady Browne.(509)
Berkeley Square, Oct. 19, 1783. (page 336)

As it is not fit my better-half should be ignorant of the state
of her worse-half, lest the gossips of the neighbourhood should
suspect we are parted; let them know, my life, that I am much
better to-day.  I have had a good deal of fever, and a bad night
on Wednesday; but the last was much better, and the fever is much
diminished to-day.  In short, I have so great an opinion of
town-dried air, that I expect to be well enough to return to
Twickenham on Monday; and, if I do, I will call on you that
evening; though I have not been out of my house yet.  Indeed, it
is unfortunate that so happy a couple, who have never exchanged a
cross word, and who might claim the flitch of bacon, cannot be
well--the one in town, the other in the country.

(509) Now first printed



Letter 267 To Governor Pownall.
Strawberry Hill, Oct. 27, 1783. (page 336)

I am extremely obliged to you, Sir, for the valuable
communication made to me.(510)  It is extremely so to me, as it
does justice to a memory I revere to the highest degree; and I
flatter myself that it would be acceptable to that part of the
world that loves truth; and that part will be the majority, as
fast as they pass away -who have an interest in preferring
falsehood.  Happily, truth is longer-lived than the passions of
individuals; and, when mankind are not misled, they can
distinguish white from black.  I myself do not pretend to be
unprejudiced; I must be so to the best of fathers - I should be
ashamed to be quite impartial.  No wonder, then, Sir, if I am
greatly pleased with so able a justification; yet I am not so
blinded, but that I can discern solid reasons for admiring your
defence.  You have placed that defence on sound and nezo grounds;
and, though very briefly, have very learnedly stated and
distinguished the landmarks of our constitution, and the
encroachments made on it, by justly referring the principles of
liberty to the Saxon systern, and by imputing the corruptions of
it to the Norman.  This was a great deal too deep for that
superficial mountebank, Hume, to go; for a mountebank he was.  He
mounted a system in the garb of a philosophic empiric, but
dispensed no drugs but what he was authorized to vend by a royal
patent, and which were full of Turkish opium.  He had studied
nothing relative to the English constitution before Queen
Elizabeth, and had selected her most arbitrary acts to
countenance those of the Stuarts: and even hers he
misrepresented; for her worst deeds were levelled against the
nobility, those of the Stuarts against the people.  Hers,
consequently, were rather an obligation to the people; for the
most heinous part of despotism is, that it produces a thousand
despots instead of one.  Muley Moloch cannot lop off many heads
with his own hands; at least, he takes those in his way.  those
of his courtiers; but his bashaws and viceroys spread destruction
every where.  The flimsy, ignorant, blundering manner in which
Hume executed the reigns preceding Henry the Seventh, is a proof
how little he had examined the history of our constitution.

I could say much, much more, Sir, in commendation of your work,
were I not apprehensive of being biassed by the subject.  Still,
that it would not be from flattery, I wilt prove, by taking the
liberty of making two objections; and they are only to the last
page but one.  Perhaps you will think that my first objection
does show that I am too much biassed.  I own I am sorry to see my
father compared to Sylla.  The latter was a sanguinary usurper, a
monster; the former, the mildest, most forgiving, best-natured of
men, and a legal minister.  Nor, I fear, will the only light in
which you compare them, Stand The test.  Sylla resigned his power
voluntarily, insolently: perhaps timidly.  as he might think he
had a better chance of dying in his bed, if he retreated, than by
continuing to rule by force.  My father did not retire by his own
option.  He had lost the majority of the House of Commons.
Sylla, you say, Sir, retired unimpeached; it is true, but covered
with blood.  My father was not impeached, in our strict sense, Of
the word; but, to my great joy, he was in effect.  A secret
committee, a worse inquisition than a jury, was named; not to try
him, but to sift his life for crimes: and Out Of Such a jury,
chosen in the dark, and not one of whom he might challenge, he
had some determined enemies, many opponents, and but two he could
suppose his friends.  And what was the consequence ? A man
charged with every state crime almost, for twenty years, was
proved to have done--what?  Paid some writers much more than they
deserved, for having defended him against ten thousand and ten
'thousand libels, (some of which had been written by his
inquisitors,) all which libels were confessed to have been lies
by his inquisitors themselves; for they could not produce a
shadow of one of the crimes with which they had charged him! I
must own, ,Sir, I think that Sylla and my father ought to be set
in opposition rather than paralleled.

My other objection is still more serious: and if I am so happy as
to convince you, I shall hope that you will alter the paragraph;
as it seems to impute something to Sir Robert, of which he was
not only most innocent, but of which if he had been guilty, I
should think him extremely so, for he would have been very
ungrateful.  You say he had not the comfort to see that he had
established his own family by any thing which he received from
the gratitude of that Hanover family, or from the gratitude of
that country, which he had saved and served! Good Sir, what does
this sentence seem to imply, but that either Sir Robert himself,
or his family, thought or think, that the Kings George .  and II.
or England, were ungrateful in not rewarding his services? Defend
him and us from such a charge!  He
nor we ever had such a thought.  Was it not rewarding him to make
him prime minister, and maintain and support him against his
enemies for twenty years together?  Did not George I.  make his
eldest son a peer, and give to the father and son a valuable
patent place in the custom-house for three lives?  Did not George
II.  give my elder brother the auditor's place, and to my brother
and me other rich places for our lives; for, though in the gift
of the first lord of the treasury, do we not owe them to the King
who made him so?  Did not the late King make my father an earl,
and dismiss him with a pension of 4000 pounds a-year for his
life?  Could he or we not think these ample rewards?  What
rapacious sordid wretches must he and we have been, and be, could
we entertain such an idea?  As far have we all been from thinking
him neglected by his country.  Did not his country see and know
these rewards?  and could it think these rewards inadequate?
Besides, Sir, great as I hold my father's services, they were
solid and silent, not ostensible.  They were of a kind to which I
hold your justification a more suitable reward than pecuniary
recompenses.  To have fixed the house of Hanover on the throne,
to have maintained this country in peace and affluence for twenty
years, with the other services you record, Sir, were actions, the
`eclat of which must be illustrated by time and reflection; and
whose splendour has been brought forwarder than I wish it had, by
comparison with a period very dissimilar! If Sir Robert had not
the comfort of leaving his family in affluence, it was not
imputable to his King or his country.  Perhaps I am proud that he
did not.  He died forty thousand pounds in debt.  That was the
wealth of a man that had been taxed as the plunderer of his
country!  Yet, with all my adoration of my father, I am just
enough to own that it was his own fault if he died so poor.  He
had made Houghton much too magnificent for the moderate estate
which he left to support it; and, as he never --I repeat it with
truth, never--got any money but in the South Sea and while he was
paymaster.  his fondness for his paternal seat, and his boundless
generosity, were too expensive for his fortune.  I will mention
one instance, which will show how little he was disposed to turn
the favour of the crown to his own profit.  He laid out fourteen
thousand pounds of his own money on Richmond New Park.  I could
produce other reasons too why Sir Robert's family were not in so
comfortable a situation, as the world, deluded by
misrepresentation, might expect to see them at his death.  My
eldest brother had been a very bad economist during his father's
life, and died himself fifty thousand pounds in debt, or more; so
that to this day neither Sir Edward nor I have received the five
thousand pounds apiece which Sir Robert left us as our fortunes.
I do not love to charge the dead; therefore will only say, that
Lady Orford (reckoned a vast fortune, which till she died she
never proved,) wasted vast sums; nor did my brother or father
ever receive but the twenty thousand pounds which she brought at
first,'and which were spent on the wedding and christening; I
mean, including her jewels.

I beg pardon, Sir, for this tedious detail, which is minutely,
perhaps too minutely, true; but, when I took the liberty of
contesting any part of a work which I admire so much, I owed it
to you and to myself to assign my reasons.  I trust they will
satisfy you; and, if they do, I am sure you will alter a
paragraph against which it is the duty of the family to exclaim.
Dear as my father's memory is to my soul, I can never subscribe
to the position that he was unrewarded by the house of Hanover.

(510) The Governor's "Character of Sir Robert Walpole."  It will
be found among the original papers in COXe's Life of Sir
Robert.-E.



Letter 268 To Governor Pownall.
Berkeley Square, Nov. 7, 1783. (page 339)

You must allow me, Sir, to repeat my thanks for the second copy
of your tract on my father, and for your great condescension in
altering the two passages to which I presumed to object; and
which are not only more consonant to exactness, but, I hope, no
disparagement to the piece.  To me they are quite satisfactory.
And it is a comfort to me too, that what I begged to have changed
was not any reflection prejudicial to his memory; but, in the
first point, a parallel not entirely similar in circumstances;
and, in the other, a sort of censure on 'others to which I could
not subscribe.  With all my veneration for my father's memory, I
should not remonstrate against just censure on him.  Happily, to
do justice to him, most iniquitous calumnies ought to be removed;
and then there would remain virtues and merits enough, far to
outweigh human errors, from which the best of men, like him,
cannot be exempt.  Let his enemies, ay and his friends, be
compared with him, and then justice would be done!  Your essay,
Sir, will, I hope, some time or other, clear the way to his
vindication.  It points out the true way of examining his
character; and is itself, as far as it goes, unanswerable.  As
such, what an obligation it must be to, Sir, etc.



Letter 269To The Earl Of Strafford.
Berkeley Square, Nov. 10, 1783. (page 339)

If I consulted my reputation as 'a writer, which your lordship's
partiality is so kind as to allot me, I should wait a few days
till my granary is fuller of stock, which probably it would be by
the end of next week; but, in truth, I had rather be a grateful,
and consequently a punctual correspondent, than an ingenious one;
as I value the honour of your lordship's friendship more than
such tinsel bits of fame as can fall to my share, and of which I
am particularly sick at present, as the Public Advertiser dressed
me out t'other day with a heap of that dross which he had
pillaged from some other strolling playwrights, who I did not
desire should be plundered for me.

Indeed, when the Parliament does meet, I doubt, nay hope, it will
make less sensation than usual.  The orators of Dublin have
brought the flowers of Billingsgate to so high perfection, that
ours comparatively will have no more scent than a dead dandelion.
If your lordship has not seen the speeches of Mr. Flood and Mr.
Grattan,(511) you may perhaps still think that our oyster-women
can be more abusive than members of parliament.  Since I began my
letter, I hear that the meeting of the delegates from the
Volunteers is adjourned to the first of February.(512)  This
seems a very favourable circumstance.  I don't like a reformation
begun by a Popish army! Indeed, I did hope that peace would bring
us peace, at least not more than the discords incidental to a
free ,government: but we seem not to have attained that era yet!
I hope it will arrive, though I may not see it.  I shall not
easily believe that any radical alteration of a constitution that
preserved us so long, and carried us to so great a height, will
recover our affairs.  There is a wide difference between
correcting abuses and removing landmarks.  Nobody disliked more
than I the strides that were attempted towards increasing the
prerogative; but as the excellence of our constitution, above all
others, consists in the balance established between the three
powers of King, Lords, and Commons, I wish to see that
equilibrium preserved.  No single man, nor any private junta, has
a right to dictate laws to all three.  In Ireland, truly,' a
still worse spirit I apprehend to be at bottom; in short, it is
frenzy or folly to suppose that an army composed of three parts
of Catholics can be intended for any good purposes.

These are my sentiments, my dear lord, and, you know, very
disinterested.  For myself, I have nothing to wish but ease and
tranquillity for the rest of my time.  I have no enmities to
avenge.  I do hope the present administration will last, as I
believe there are more honest men in it than in any set that
could replace them, though I have not a grain of partiality more
than I had for their associates.  Mr. Fox I think by far the
ablest and soundest head in England, and am persuaded that the
more he is tried the greater man he will appear.

Perhaps it is impertinent to trouble your lordship with my creed,
it is certainly of no consequence to any body; but I have nothing
else that could entertain you, and at so serious a crisis can one
think of trifles?  In general I am not sorry that the nation is
most disposed to trifle; the less it takes part, the more leisure
will the ministers have to attend to the most urged points.  When
so many individuals assume to be legislators, it is lucky that
very few obey their institutes.

I rejoice to hear of Lady Strafford's good health, and am her and
your lordship's most faithful humble servant.

(511) In the course of a debate in the Irish House of Commons, on
the 28th of October, upon Sir Henry Cavendish's motion for a
retrenchment of the public expenditure violent altercation had
taken place between the rival orators.  While Mr. Grattan
animadverted, with disgraceful bitterness, on the " broken beak
and disastrous countenance" of his opponent, and charged him with
betraying every man who trusted in him, Mr. Flood broadly
insinuated that Mr. Grattan had betrayed his country for a sum of
gold; and, for prompt payment, had sold himself to the
minister.-E.

(512) They assembled at Dublin on the 10th of November, when a
plan of reform was produced and considered by them; and on the
following day Mr. Flood moved, in the House of Commons for leave
to bring in a bill for the more equal representation of the
people in Parliament.  The motion was rejected by 157 votes to
77.-E.



Letter 270 To The Earl Of Strafford.
Berkeley Square, Dec. 11, 1783. (page 341)

Your lordship is so partial to me and my idle letters, that I am
afraid of writing them; not lest they should sink below the
standard you have pleased to affix to them in your own mind, but
from fear of being intoxicated into attempting to keep them up to
it, which would destroy their only merit, their being written
naturally and without pretensions.  Gratitude and good breeding
compel me to make due answers; but I entreat your lordship to be
assured, that, however vain I am of your favour, my only aim is
to preserve the honour of your friendship; that it is all the
praise I ask or wish; and that, with regard to letter-writing, I
am firmly persuaded that it is a province in which women will
always shine superiorly; for our sex is too jealous of the
reputation of good sense, to condescend to hazard a thousand
trifles and negligences, which give grace, ease, and familiarity
to correspondence.(513)  I will say no more on that subject, for
I feel that I am on the brink of a dissertation; and though that
fault would prove the truth of my proposition, I will not punish
your lordship only to convince you that I am in the right.  The
winter is not dull or disagreeable; on the contrary, it is
Pleasing, as the town is occupied on general subjects, and not,
as is too common, on private scandal, private vices, and follies.
The India-bill, air-balloons, Vestris, and the automaton, share
all attention.  Mrs. Siddons, as less a novelty, does not engross
all conversation.  If abuse still keeps above par, it confines
itself to its prescriptive province, the ministerial line.  In
that walk it has tumbled a little into the kennel.  The low
buffoonery of Lord Thurlow, in laying the caricatura of the
Coalition on the table of your lordship's House, has levelled it
to Sadler's Wells; and Mr. Flood, the pillar of invective, does
not promise to re-erect it; not, I conclude, from want of having
imported a stock of ingredients, but his presumptuous debut on
the very night of his entry was so wretched, and delivered in so
barbarous a brogue that I question whether he will ever recover
the blow Mr. Courtenay gave him.(514)  A young man may correct
and improve, and rise from a first fall; but an elderly formed
speaker has not an equal chance.  Mr. Hamilton,(515) Lord
Abercorn's heir, but by no means so laconic, had more success.
Though his first essay, ii was not at all dashed by bashfulness;
and though he might have blushed for discovering so much personal
rancour to Mr. Fox, he rather seemed to be impatient to discharge
it.

Your lordship sees in the papers that the two Houses of Ireland
have firmly resisted the innovations of the Volunteers.  Indeed,
it was time for the Protestant proprietors to make their stand;
for though the Catholics behave decently, it would be into their
hands that the prize would fall.  The delegates, it is true, have
sent over a most loyal address; but I wish their actions may not
contradict their words! Mr. Flood's discomfiture here will, I
suppose, carry him back to a field wherein his wicked spirit may
have more effect.  It is a very serious moment!  I am in pain
lest your county, my dear lord, (you know what I mean) should
countenance such pernicious designs.

(513) Some excellent advice on the subject of female
letter-writing, will be found in a letter written, in 1809, by
Lord Collingwood to one of his daughters:--"No sportsman," says
the gallant Admiral, "ever hits a partridge without aiming at it;
and skill is acquired by repeated attempts.  When you write a
letter, give it your greatest care, that it may be as perfect in
all its parts as you can make it.  Let the subject be sense,
expressed in the most plain, intelligible, and elegant manner
that you are capable of If in a familiar epistle you should be
playful and jocular, guard carefully that your wit be not sharp,
so as to, give pain to any person; and before You write a
sentence, examine it, even the words which it is composed, that
there be nothing vulgar or inelegant in them.  Remember, my dear,
that your letter is the picture of Your brains; and those whose
brains are a compound of folly, nonsense, and impertinence, are
to blame to exhibit them to the contempt of the world, or the
pity of their friends.  To write a letter with negligence,
without proper stops, with crooked lines and great, flourishing
dashes, is inelegant; it argues either great ignorance of what is
proper, or great indifference towards the person to whom it is
addressed, and is consequently disrespectful." Memoirs, p.
430.-E.

(514) Mr. Flood took his seat for Winchester on the 8th of
December, and on the same evening addressed the House in
Opposition to Mr. Fox's East India bill.  "He spoke," says
Wraxall, "with great ability and good sense, but the slow,
measured, and sententious style of enunciation which
characterized his eloquence, appeared to English ears cold and
stiff: unfortunately, too, for Flood, one of his own countrymen,
Courtenay, instantly Opened on him such a battery of ridicule and
wit, as seemed to overwhelm the new Member.  He made no attempt
at reply, and under these circumstances began the division.  It
formed a triumphant exhibition Of ministerial strength, the
Coalition numbering 208; while only 102 persons, of whom I was
one, followed Pitt into the lobby yet, within twelve days
afterwards he found himself first minister, and so remained above
seventeen years."-E.

(515) John James Hamilton.  In 1789, he succeeded his uncle as
ninth Earl of Abercorn, and second Viscount Hamilton; and in
1790, was created Marquis of Abercorn.-E.



Letter 271 To The Hon. H. S. Conway.
Berkeley Square, Wednesday, May 5, 1784. (page 342)

Your cherries, for aught I know, may, like Mr. Pitt, be half ripe
before others are in blossom; but at Twickenham, I am sure, I
could find dates and pomegranates on the quickset hedges, as soon
as a cherry in swaddling-clothes on my walls.  The very leaves on
the horse-chestnuts are little snotty-nosed things, that cry and
are afraid of the north-wind, and cling to the bough as if old
poker was coming to take them away.  For my part, I have seen
nothing like spring but a chimney-sweeper's garland; and yet I
have been three days in the country-and the consequence was, that
I was glad to come back to town.  I do not wonder that you feel
differently; any thing is warmth and verdure when compared to
poring over memorials.  In truth, I think you will be much
happier for being out of Parliament.  You could do no good there;
you have no views of ambition to satisfy: and when neither duty.
nor ambition calls, (I do not condescend to name avarice, which
never is to be satisfied, nor deserves to be reasoned with, nor
has any place in your breast,) I cannot conceive what
satisfaction an elderly man can have in listening to the passions
or follies of others: nor is eloquence such a banquet, when one
knows that, whoever the cooks are, whatever the sauces, one has
eaten as good beef or mutton before, and perhaps, as well
dressed.  It is surely time to live for one's self, when one has
not a vast while to live; and you, I am persuaded, Will live the
longer for leading a country life.  How much better to be
planting, nay, making experiments on smoke (if not too dear),
than reading applications from officers, a quarter of whom you
could not serve, nor content three quarters! You had not time for
necessary exercise : and, I believe, would have blinded yourself.
In short, if you will live in the air all day, be totally idle,
and not read or write a line by candle-light, and retrench your
suppers, I shall rejoice in your having nothing to do but that
dreadful punishment, pleasing yourself.  Nobody has any claims on
you; you have satisfied every point of honour; you have no cause
for being particularly grateful to the Opposition; and you want
no excuse for living for yourself.  Your resolutions on economy
are not only prudent, but just; and, to say the truth, I believe
if you had continued at the head of the army, you would have
ruined yourself You have too much generosity to have curbed
yourself, and would have had too little time to attend to doing
so.  I know by myself how pleasant it is to have laid up a little
for those I love, for those that depend on me, and for old
servants.  Moderate wishes may be satisfied; and which is still
better, are less liable to disappointment.

I am not preaching, nor giving advice, but congratulating you it
is certainly not being selfish, when I rejoice at your being
thrown by circumstances into a retired life, though it will
occasion my seeing less of you; but I have always preferred what
was most for your own honour and happiness; and as you taste
satisfaction already, it will not diminish, for they are the
first moments of passing from busy life to a quiet one that are
the most irksome.  You have the felicity of being able to amuse
yourself with what the grave world calls trifles , but as gravity
does not happen to be wisdom, trifles are full as important as
what is respected as serious; and more amiable, and generally
more innocent.  Most men are bad or ridiculous, sometimes both:
at least my experience tells me what my 
 reading had told me before, that they are so in a great capital
of a sinking 'country.  If immortal fame is his object, a Cato
may die but he will do no good.  If only the preservation of his
virtue had been his point, he might have lived comfortably at
Athens, like Attieus who, by the way, happens to be as immortal;
though I will give him credit for having had no such view.
Indeed, I look upon this country as so irrecoverably on the verge
of ruin, from its enormous debt, from the loss of America, from
the almost as certain prospect of losing India, that my pride
would dislike to be an actor when the crash may happen.

You seem to think that I might send you more news.  So I might,
if I would talk of elections;(516) but those, you know, I hate,
as, in general, I do all details.  How Mr. Fox has recovered such
a majority I do not guess, still less do I comprehend how there
could be so many that had not voted, after the poll had lasted so
long.(517)  Indeed, I should be sorry to understand such
mysteries.-Of new peers, or new elevations I hear every day, but
am quite ignorant which are to be true.  Rumour always creates as
many as the King, when he makes several.  In fact, I do know
nothing.  Adieu!

P. S. The summer is come to town, but I hope is gone into the
country too.

(516) The Parliament had been dissolved in March, and a new one
was summoned to meet on the 18th of May.-E.

(517) Mr. Pitt says in a letter to Mr. Wilberforce, of the 8th of
April, "Westminster goes on well, in spite of the Duchess of
Devonshire and the other women of the people; but when the poll
will close is uncertain."  At the close of it, on the 17th of
May, the numbers were, for Hood 6694, Fox 6233, Wray 5998.
Walpole, whose delicate health at this time confined him almost
entirely to his house, went in a sedan-chair to give his vote for
Mr. Fox.  "Apropos of elections," writes Hannah More to her
sister," I had like to have got into a fine scrape the other
night.  I was going to pass the evening at Mrs. Cole's, in
Lincoln's-inn Fields.  I went in a chair: they carried me through
Covent-Garden: a number of people, as I went along, desired the
men not to go through the Garden, as there were a hundred armed
men, who, suspecting every chairman belonged to Brookes's, would
fall upon us.  In spite of my entreaties, the men would have
persisted; but a stranger, out of humanity, made them set me
down; and the shrieks of the wounded, for there was a terrible
battle, intimidated the chairmen, who were at last prevailed upon
to carry me another way.  A vast number of people followed me,
crying out, 'it is Mrs. Fox: none but Mr. Fox's wife would dare
to come into Covent-Garden in a chair; she is going to canvass in
the dark!'  Though not a little frightened, I laughed heartily at
this; but shall stir no more in a chair for some time." Memoirs,
vol. I. p. 315.-E.



Letter 272 To Miss Hannah More.(519)
May 6, 1784 (page 344)

Mr. Walpole thanks Miss More a thousand times, not only for so
obligingly complying with his request, but for letting him have
the satisfaction of possessing and reading again and again her
charming and very genteel poem, the "Bas Bleu."  He ought not, in
modesty, to commend so much a piece in which he himself is
flattered; but truth is more durable than blushing, and he must
be just, though he may be vain.  The ingenuity with which she has
introduced, so easily, very difficult rhymes, is admirable; and
though there is a quantity of learning, it has all the air Of
negligence, instead of that of pedantry.  As she, commands him,
he will not disobey; and, so far from giving a single copy, he
gives her his word that it shall not go out of his hands.  He
begs his particular compliments to Mrs. Garrick, and is Miss
More's most devoted and much obliged humble servant.

(519) Walpole's intimacy with Miss Hannah More commenced in the
year 1781.  The following passages occur in her letters of that
and the following year:--"Mr. Walpole has done me the honour of
inviting me to Strawberry Hill: as he is said to be a shy man, I
must consider this as a great compliment."--" We dined the other
day at Strawberry Hill, and passed as delightful a day as elegant
literature, high breeding, and lively wit can afford.  As I was
the greatest stranger, Mr. Walpole devoted himself to my
amusement with great politeness."-E.



Letter 273 To The Hon. H. S. Conway.
Strawberry Hill, May 21, 1784. (page 345)

I am perfectly satisfied with your epitaph,(520) and would not
have a Syllable altered.  It tells exactly what it means to say,
and that truth being an encomium, wants no addition or
amplification.  Nor do I love late language for modern facts, nor
will European tongues perish since printing has been discovered.
I should approve French least of all; it would be a kind of
insult to the vanquished: and, besides, the example of a hero
should be held out to his countrymen rather than to their
enemies.  You must take care to have the word caused, in the last
line but one, spelt rightly, and not caus'd.

I know nothing of the Parliament but what you saw in the papers.
I came hither yesterday, and am transported, like you, with the
beauty of the country; ay, and with its perfumed air too.  The
lilac-time scents even the insides of the rooms.

I desired Lady Ailesbury to carry you Lord Melcombe's Diary.(521)
It is curious indeed; not so much from the secrets it blabs,
which are rather characteristic than novel, but from the
wonderful folly of the author, who was so fond of talking of
himself, that he tells all he knew of himself, though scarce an
event that does not betray his profligacy; and (which is still
more surprising that he should disclose) almost every one exposes
the contempt in which he was held, and his consequential'
disappointments and disgraces! Was ever any man the better for
another's experience?  What a lesson is here against versatility!
I, who have lived through all the scenes unfolded, am
entertained; but I should think that to younger readers half the
book must be unintelligible.  He explains nothing but the
circumstances of his own situation; and, though he touches on
many important periods, he leaves them undeveloped, and often
undetermined.  It is diverting to hear him rail at Lord Halifax
and others, for the very kind of double-dealing which he relates
coolly of himself in the next page.  Had he gone backwards, he
might have given half a dozen volumes of his own life, with
similar anecdotes and variations.  I am most surprised, that when
self-love is the whole groundwork of the performance, there
should be little or no attempt at shining as an author, though he
was one.  As he had so much wit too, I am amazed that not a
feature of it appears.  The discussion in the appendix, on the
late Prince's question for increase of allowance, is the only
part in which there is sense or honesty.  There is, in the
imperfect account of Rochfort, a strong Circumstance or two that
pleased me much.  There are many passages that will displease
several others throughout.

Mr. Coxe's Travels(522) are very different: plain, clear,
sensible, instructive, and entertaining.  It is a noble work, and
precious to me who delight in quartos: the two volumes contain
twelve hundred pages; I have already devoured a quarter, though I
have had them but three days.  [The rest of this letter is lost.]

(520) An epitaph for the monument erected by the states of Jersey
to the memory of Major Pearson, killed in the attack of that
island by the French in January 1781.

(521) "The Diary of George Bubb Dodington, Baron of Melcombe
Regis, from March 8, 1749, to February 6, 1761; published by
Henry Penruddocke Wyndham."

(522) Travels into Poland, Russia, Sweden, and Denmark;
interspersed with Historical Relations and Political Inquiries;
by William Cox, M. A.," in two volumes quarto.-E.



Letter 274 To The Countess Of Ailesbury.
Strawberry Hill, Tuesday night, June 8, 1784. (page 346)

You frightened me for a minute, my dear Madam; but every letter
since has given me pleasure, by telling me how rapidly you
recovered, and how perfectly well you are again.  Pray, however,
do not give me any more such Joys.  I shall be quite content with
your remaining immortal, without the foil of any alarm.  You gave
all your friends a panic, and may trust their attachment without
renewing it.  I received as many inquiries the next day as if an
archbishop was in danger, and all the bench hoped he was going to
heaven.

Mr. Conway wonders I do not talk of Voltaire's Memoirs.  Lord
bless me! I saw it two months ago; the Lucans brought it from
Paris and lent it to me: nay, and I have seen most of it before;
and I believe this an imperfect copy, for it ends no how at all.
Besides, it was quite out of my head.  Lord Melcombe's Diary put
that and every thing else out of my mind.  I wonder much more at
Mr. Conway's not talking of this!  It gossips about the living as
familiarly as a modern newspaper.  I long to hear what say about
it.  I wish the newspapers were as accurate! They have been
circumstantial about Lady Walsingham's birthday clothes, which to
be sure one is glad to know, Only unluckily there is no such
person.  However, I dare to say that her dress was very becoming,
and that she looked charmingly.

The month of June, according to custom immemorial, is as cold as
Christmas.  I had a fire last night, and all my rose-buds, I
believe, would have been very glad to sit by it.  I have other
grievances to boot; but as they are annuals too,--videlicet,
people to see my house,-- I will not torment Your ladyship with
them: yet I know nothing else.  None of my neighbours are come
into the country yet: one would think all the dowagers were
elected into the new Parliament.  Adieu, my dear Madam!



          Letter 275 To The Hon. H. S. Conway.
         Strawberry Hill, June 25, 1784. (page 347)


I can answer you very readily in your own tone, that is, about
weather and country grievances, and without one word of news or
politics; for I know neither, nor inquire of them.(523)  I am
very well content to be a Strulbrug, and to exist after I have
done being: and I am still better pleased that you are in the
same way of thinking, or of not thinking; for I am sure both your
health and your mind will find the benefits of living for
yourself and family only.  It were not fit that the young should
concentre themselves in so narrow a circle; nor do the young seem
to have any such intention.  Let them mend or mar the world as
they please; the world takes its own way upon the whole; and,
though there may be an uncommon swarm of animalcules for a
season, things return into their own channel from their own bias,
before any effectual nostrum or fumigation is discovered.  In the
mean time, I am for giving all due weight to local grievances,
though with no natural turn towards attending to them: but they
serve for conversation.  We have no newly invented grubs to eat
our fruit; indeed, I have no fruit to be eaten: but I should not
lament if the worms would eat my gardener, who, you know, is so
bad an one that I never have any thing in my garden.  I am now
waiting for dry weather to cut my hay; though nature certainly
never intended hay should be cut dry, as it always rains all
June.  But here is a worse calamity; one is never safe by day or
night: Mrs. Walsingham, who has bought your brother's late house
at Ditton, was robbed a few days ago in the high road, within a
mile of home, at seven in the evening.  The di`a nimorum gentium
pilfer every thing.  Last night they stole a couple of yards of
lead off the pediment of the door of my cottage.  A gentleman at
Putney, who has three men servants, had his house broken open
last week, and lost some fine miniatures, which he valued so much
that he would not hang them up.  You may imagine what a pain this
gives me in my baubles! I have been making the round of my
fortifications this morning, and ordering new works.

I am concerned for the account you give me of your brother.  Life
does not appear to be such a jewel as to preserve it carefully
for its own sake.  I think the same of its good things; if they
do not procure amusement or comfort, I doubt they only produce
the contrary.  Yet it is silly to repine; for, probably, whatever
any man does by choice, he knows will please him best, or at
least will prevent greater uneasiness.  I therefore, rather
retract my concern; for, with a vast fortune, Lord Hertford might
certainly do what he would: and if, at his age, he can wish for
more than that fortune will obtain, I may pity his taste or
temper; but I shall think that you and I are much happier who can
find enjoyments in an humbler sphere, nor envy those who have no
time for trifling'.  I, who have never done any thing else, am
not at all weary of my occupation.  Even three days of continued
rain have not put me out of humour or spirits.  C'est beaucoup
dire for an Anglais.  Adieu!  Yours ever.

(523) "As politics spoil all conversation, Mr. Walpole, the other
night, proposed that every body should forfeit half a crown who
said any thing tending to introduce the idea, either of ministers
or opposition.  I added, that whoever mentioned pit-coal or a
fox-skin muff, should be considered as guilty; and it was
accordingly voted." Hannah More, March 8, 1784.-E.



Letter 276 To The Hon. H. S. Conway.
Strawberry Hill, June 30, 1784. (page 348)

Instead of coming to you, I Am thinking of packing up and going
to town for winter, so desperate is the weather!  I found a great
fire at Mrs. Clive's this evening, and Mr. Rafter hanging over it
like a smoked ham.  They tell me my hay will be spoiled for want
of cutting; but I had rather it should be destroyed by standing
than by being mowed, as the former will cost me nothing but the
crop, and 'tis very dear to make nothing but a water-souchy of
it.

You know I have lost a niece, and found another nephew: he makes
the fifty-fourth reckoning both sexes.  We are certainly an
affectionate family, for of late we do nothing but marry one
another.  Have not You felt a little twinge in a remote corner of
your heart on Lady Harrington's death?(524)  She dreaded death so
extremely that I am glad she had not a moment to be sensible of
it.  I have a great affection for sudden deaths; they save
oneself and every body else a deal of ceremony.

The Duke and Duchess of Marlborough breakfasted here on Monday,
and seemed much pleased, though it rained the whole time with an
Egyptian darkness.  I should have thought there had been deluges
enough to destroy all Egypt's other plagues: but the newspapers
talk of locusts: I suppose relations of your beetles, though
probably not so fond of green fruit; for the scene of their
campaign is Queen square, Westminster, where there certainly has
not been an orchard since the reign of Canute.

I have, at last, seen an air-balloon; just as I once did see a
tiny review, by passing one accidentally on Hounslow-heath.  I
was going last night to Lady Onslow at Richmond, and over Mr.
Cambridge's field I saw a bundle in the air not bigger than the
moon,(525) and she herself could not have descended with more
composure if she had expected to find Endymion fast asleep.  It
seemed to 'light on Richmond-hill; but Mrs. Hobart was going by,
and her coiffure prevented my seeing it alight.  The papers say,
that a balloon has been made at Paris representing the castle of
Stockholm, in compliment to the King of Sweden; but that they are
afraid to let it off: so, I suppose, it will be served up to him
in a dessert.  No great progress..  surely, is made in these airy
navigations, if they are still afraid of risking the necks of two
or three subjects for the entertainment of a visiting sovereign.
There is seldom a feu de joie for the birth of a Dauphin that
does not cost more lives.  I thought royalty and science never
haggled about the value of blood when experiments are in the
question.

I shall wait for summer before I make you a visit.  Though I dare
to say that you have converted your smoke-kilns into a
manufacture of balloons, pray do not erect a Strawberry castle in
the air for my reception, if it will cost a pismire a hair of its
head.  Good night! I have ordered my bed to be heated as hot as
an oven, and Tonton and I must go into it.

(524) See vol. i. p. 379, letter 143.-E.(525) "Lunardi's nest,"
says Hannah More, " when I saw it yesterday, looking like a
pegtop, seemed, I assure you, higher than the moon, 'riding
towards her highest noon.'"-E.



Letter 277 To The Earl Of Strafford.
Strawberry Hill, August 6, 1784. (page 349)

I am very sorry, my dear lord, that I must answer your lordship's
letter by a condolence.  I had not the honour Ur of being
acquainted with Mrs. Vyse, but have heard so much good of her,
that it is impossible not to lament her.  Since this month began
we have had fine weather; and 'twere great pity if we had not,
when the earth is covered with Such abundant harvests!  They talk
of an earthquake having been felt in London.  Had Sir William
Hamilton been there, he would think the town gave itself great
airs.  He, I believe, is putting up volcanos in his own country.
In my youth, philosophers were eager to ascribe every uncommon
discovery to the Deluge; now it is the fashion to solve every
appearance by conflagrations.  If there was such an inundation
upon the earth, and such a furnace under it, I am amazed that
Noah and company were not boiled to death.   Indeed, I am a great
sceptic about human reasonings; they predominate only for a time,
like other mortal fashions, and are so often exploded after the
mode is passed, that I hold them little more serious, though they
call themselves wisdom.  How many have I lived to see established
and confuted! For instance, the necessity of a southern continent
as a balance was supposed to be unanswerable; and so it was, till
Captain Cook found there was no such thing.  We are poor silly
animals: we live for an instant upon a particle of a boundless
universe, and are much like a butterfly that should argue about
the nature of the seasons and what creates their vicissitudes,
and does not exist itself to see one annual revolution of them!

Adieu! my dear lord! If my reveries are foolish, remember, I give
them for no better, If I depreciate human wisdom, I am sure I do
not assume a grain to myself; nor have any thing to value myself
upon more than being your lordship's most obliged humble servant.



Letter 278 To Mr. Dodsley.(526)
Strawberry Hill, August 8, 1784. (page 350)

I must beg, Sir, that you will tell Mr. Pinkerton, that I am much
obliged to him for the honour he is willing to do me, though I
must deg his leave to decline it.  His book(527) deserves an
eminent patron: I am too inconsiderable to give any relief to it,
and even in its own line am unworthy to be distinguished.  One of
my first pursuits was a collection of medals; but I early gave it
over, as I could not afford many branches of virt`u, and have
since changed or given away several of my best Greek and Roman
medals.  What remain, I shall be glad to show Mr. Pinkerton; and,
if it would not be inconvenient to him to come hither any morning
by eleven o'clock, after next Thursday, that he Will not only see
my medals, but any other baubles here that can amuse him.  I am,
Sir, your most obedient humble servant.

(526) Now first collected.

(527) The first edition of Pinkerton's "Essay on Medals" was
published by Dodsley, in two volumes octavo, in this year,
without the name of the author.-E.



Letter 279 To The Hon. H. S. Conway.
Strawberry Hill, August 14, 1784. (page 350)

As Lady Cecilia Johnston offers to be postman, I cannot resist
writing a line, though I have not a word to say.  In good sooth,
I know nothing hear Of nothing but robberies and housebreaking;
consequently never think of ministers, India directors, and such
honest men.  Mrs. Clive has been broken open, and Mr. Raftor
miscarried, and died of the fright.  Lady Browne has lost all her
liveries and her temper, and Lady Blandford has cried her eyes
out on losing a lurch and almost her wig.  In short, as I do not
love exaggeration, I do not believe there have been above
threescore highway robberies within this week, fifty-seven houses
that have been broken open, and two hundred and thirty that are
to be stripped on the first opportunity.  We are in great hopes,
however, that the King of Spain, now he has demolished Algiers,
the metropolitan see of thieves, will come and bombard Richmond,
Twickenham, Hampton-court, and all the suffragan cities that
swarm with pirates and banditti, as he has a better knack at
destroying vagabonds than at recovering his own.

Ireland is in a blessed way; and, as if the climate infected
every body that sets foot there, the viceroy's aides-do-camp have
blundered into a riot, that will set all the humours afloat.  I
wish you joy of the summer being come now it is gone, which is
better than not coming at all.  I hope Lady Cecilia will return
with an account of your all being perfectly well.  Adieu! Yours
ever.



Letter 280 To John Pinkerton, Esq.(528)
Strawberry Hill, August 24, 1784. (page 351)

I am much obliged to you, Sir, for the pieces you have sent me of
your own composition.(529)  There is great poetic beauty and
merit in them, with great knowledge of the ancient masters and of
the best of the modern.  You have talents that will succeed in
whatever you pursue, and industry to neglect nothing that will
improve them.  Despise petty critics, and confute them by making
your works as perfect as you can.

I am sorry you sent me the old manuscript; because, as I told
you, I have so little time left to enjoy any thing, that I should
think myself a miser if I coveted for a moment what I must leave
so soon.  I shall be very glad, Sir, to see you here again,
whenever it is convenient to you.

(528) This is the first of the series of letters addressed by Mr.
Walpole to Mr. Pinkerton.  They are taken from his " Literary
Correspondence," first printed in 1830, in two volumes octavo, by
Dawson Turner, Esq. M.A. F.R.S. from the originals in his
valuable collection.  Mr. Pinkerton was born at Edinburgh, in
February 1758, and died at Paris in May 1826.  "He was," says Mr.
Dawson Turner, "a man of a capacious mind, great acuteness,
strong memory, restless activity, and extraordinary perseverance:
the anecdotes contained in this correspondence afford a striking
proof of the power of talent,, and industry to raise their
possessor in the scale of society, as well as in the opinion of
the world: unfortunately, they are also calculated to read us
another and not less instructive lesson, that somewhat more is
required to turn such advantages to their full account; and that
the endowments of the mind, unless accompanied by sound and
consistent principles, can tend but little to the happiness of
the individual, or to the good of society."-E.

(529) In 1781, Mr. Pinkerton had published an octavo volume
entitled "Rimes;" a second edition of which, with additions,
appeared in the following year.-E.



Letter 281 To The Earl Of Strafford.
Strawberry Hill, Sept. 7, 1784. (page 351)

The summer is come at last, my lord, drest as fine as a birthday,
though with not so many flowers on its head.  In truth, the sun
is an old fool, who apes the modern people of fashion by arriving
too late: the day is going to bed before he makes his appearance;
and one has scarce time to admire his embroidery of green and
gold.  It was cruel to behold such expanse of corn every where,
and yet see it all turned to a water-souchy.  If I could admire
Dante,--which, asking Mr. Hayley's pardon, I do not,--I would
have written an olio of jews and Pagans, and sent Ceres to
reproach Master Noah with breaking his promise of the world never
being drowned again.  But this last week has restored matters to
their old channel; and I trust we shall have bread to eat next
winter, or I think we must have lived on apples, of which to be
sure there is enough to prevent a famine.  This is all I know, my
lord; and I hope no news to your lordship.  I have exhausted the
themes of air-balloons and highwaymen; and if you will have my
letters, you must be content with my commonplace chat on the
seasons.  I do nothing worth repeating, nor hear that others do:
and though I am content to rust myself, I should be glad to tell
your lordship any thing that would amuse you.  I dined two days
ago at Mrs. Garrick's -with Sir William Hamilton, who is
returning to the kingdom of cinders.  Mrs. Walsingham(530) Was
there with her son and daughter.  He is a very pleasing young
man; a fine figure; his face like hers, with something of his
grandfather, Sir Charles Williams, without his vanity: very
sensible, and uncommonly well-bred.  The daughter is an
imitatress of Mrs. Damer, and has modelled a bust of her brother.
Mrs. Damer herself is modelling two masks for the keystones of
the new bridge at Henley.  Sir William, who has seen them, says
they are in her true antique style.  I am in possession of her
sleeping dogs in terra cotta.  She asked me if I would consent to
her executing them in marble for the Duke of Richmond? I said
gladly; I should like they should exist in a more durable
material; but I would not part with the original, Which is
sharper and more alive.  Mr. Wyat the architect saw them here
lately; and said, he was sure that if the idea was given to the
best statuary in Europe, he would not produce so perfect a group.
Indeed with those dogs and the riches I possess by Lady Di,(531)
poor Strawberry may vie with much prouder collections.

Adieu, my good lord! when I fold up a letter I am ashamed of it;
but it is your own fault.  The last thing I should think of would
be troubling your lordship with such insipid stuff, if you did
not command it.  Lady Strafford will bear me testimony how often
I have protested against it.

(530) Charlotte, daughter of Sir Charles Hanbury Williams, Bart,
married to the Hon. Robert Boyle Walsingham.-E.

(531) The number of original drawings by Lady Diana Beauclerc, at
Strawberry Hill.



Letter 282 To John Pinkerton, Esq.(532)
Strawberry Hill, Sept. 27, 1784. (page 353)

I have read your piece, Sir, very attentively; and, as I
promised, will give you my opinion of it fairly.  There is much
wit in it, especially in the part of Nebuchadnezer and the
dialogue is very easy, and the dinouement in favour of Barbara
interesting.  There are, however, I think, some objections to be
made, which, having written so well, you may easily remove, as
they are rather faults in the mechanism than in the writing.
Several scenes seem to me to finish too abruptly, and not to be
enough connected.  Juliana is not enough distinguished, as of an
age capable of more elevated sentiments: her desire of playing at
hot-cockles and blind-man's-buff sounds more childish than
vulgar.  There is another defect, which is in the conduct of the
plot: surely there is much too long an interval between the
discovery of the marriage of Juliana and Philip, and the anger of
her parents.  The audience must expect immediate effect from it;
and yet the noise it is to make arrives so late, that it would
have been forgotten in the course of the intermediate scenes.

I doubt a little, whether it would not be dangerous to open the
piece with a song that must be totally incomprehensible to at
least almost all the audience.  It is safer to engage their
prejudices by something captivating.  I have the same objection
to Julia's mistaking deposit for posset, which may give an ill
turn: besides, those mistakes have been too often produced on the
stage: so has the character of Mrs. Winter, a romantic old maid;
nor does she contribute to the plot or catastrophe.  I am afraid
that even Mrs. Vernon's aversion to' the country is far from
novel; and Mr. Colman, more accustomed to the stage than I am,
would certainly think so.  Nebuchadnezer's repartees of "Very
well, thank you!" and bringing in Philip, when bidden to go for a
rascal, are printed in the Terrce Filius, and, I believe, in
other jest-books; and therefore had better be omitted.

I flatter myself, Sir, you will excuse these remarks; as they are
intended kindly, both for your reputation and interest, and to
prevent them being made by the manager, or audience, or your
friends the reviewers.  I am ready to propose your piece to Mr.
Colman at any time; but, as I have sincerely an opinion of your
parts and talents, it is the part of a friend to wish you to be
very correct, especially in a first piece; for, such is the
ill-nature of mankind, and their want of judgment too, that, if a
new author does not succeed in a first attempt on the stage, a
prejudice is contracted against him, and may be fatal to others
of his productions, which might have prospered, had that bias not
been taken.  An established writer for the stage may venture
almost any idleness; but a first essay is very different.

Shall I send you your piece, Sir; and how?  As Mr. Colman's
theatre will not open till next summer, you will have full time
to make any alterations you please.  I mean, if you should think
any of my observations well founded, and which, perhaps, are very
trifling.  I have little opinion of my own sagacity as a critic,
nor love to make objections; nor should have taken so much
liberty with you, if you had not pressed it.  I am sure in me it
is a mark of regard, and which I never pay to an indifferent
author: my admiration of your essay on medals was natural,
uninvited, and certainly unaffected.  My acquaintance with you
since, Sir, has Confirmed my opinion of your good sense, and
interested me In behalf of' your works; and, having lived SO long
in the world myself, if My experience can be of any service to
you, I cannot withhold it when you ask it; at the same time
leaving you perfectly at liberty to reject it, if not adopted by
your own judgment.  The experience of old age Is very likely to
be balanced by the weaknesses incident to that age.  I have not,
however, its positiveness yet; and willingly abandon my criticism
to the vigour of your judgment.

(532) Now first collected.



Letter 283 To John Pinkerton, Esq.(533)
Strawberry Hill, Oct. 6, 1784. (page 354)

You have accepted my remarks with great good-humour, Sir: I wish
you may not have paid too much regard to them: and I should be
glad that you did not rest any alterations on my single judgment,
to which I have but little respect myself.  I have not thought
often on theatric performances, and of late not at all.  A chief
ground of my observations on your piece proceeded from having
taken notice that an English audience is apt to be struck with
some familiar sound, though there is nothing, ridiculous in the
passage; and fall into a foolish laugh, that often proves fatal
to the author.  Such was my objection to hot-cockles.  You have,
indeed, convinced me that I did not enough attend to your piece,
as a farce; and, you must excuse me, my regard for you and Your
wit made me consider it rather as a short comedy.  Very probably
too, I have retained the pedantic impression,, of the French, and
demanded more observance of their rules than is necessary or
just: yet I myself have often condemned their too delicate
rigour.  Nay, I have wished that farce and speaking harlequins
were more encouraged, in order to leave open a wider field of
invention to writers for the stage.  Of late I have amply had my
wish: Mr. O'Keefe has brought our audiences to bear with every
extravagance; and, were there not such irresistible humour in his
utmost daring, it would be impossible to deny that he has passed
even beyond the limits of nonsense.  But I confine this
approbation to his Agreeable Surprise.  In his other pieces there
is much more untempered nonsense than humour.  Even that
favourite performance I wondered that Mr. Colman dared to
produce.

Your remark, that a piece full of marked characters would be void
of nature, is most just.  This is so strongly my opinion, that I
thought it a great fault in Miss Burney's Cecilia, though it has
a thousand other beauties, that she has laboured far too much to
make all her personages talk always in character; whereas, in the
present refined or depraved state of human nature, most people
endeavour to conceal their real character, not to display it.  A
professional man, as a pedantic fellow of a college or a seaman,
has a characteristic dialect; but that is very different from
continually letting out his ruling passion.  This brings me, Sir,
to the alteration you offer in the personage of Mrs. Winter, whom
you wittily propose -to turn into a mermaid.  I approve the idea
much: I like too the restoration of Mrs. Vernon to a plain
reasonable woman.  She will be a contrast to the bad characters,
and but a gradation to produce Barbara, without making her too
glaringly bright without any intermediate shade.  In truth, as
you certainly may write excellently if you please, I wish you to
bestow your utmost abilities on whatever you give to the public.
I am wrong when I would have a farce as chaste and sober as a
comedy; but I would have a farce made as good as it can be.  I do
not know how that is to be accomplished; but I believe you do.
You are so obliging as to offer to accept a song of mine, if I
have one by me.  Dear Sir, I have no more talent for writing a
song than for writing an ode like Dryden's or Gray's.  It is a
talent per se; and given, like every other branch of genius, by
nature alone.  Poor Shenstone was labouring through his whole
life to write a perfect song, and, in my opinion at least, never
once succeeded; not better than Pope did in a St. Cecilian ode.
I doubt whether we have not gone a long, long way beyond the
possibility of writing a good song.  All the words in the
language have been so often employed on simple images (without
which such a song cannot be good), and such reams of bad verses
have been produced in that kind, that I question whether true
simplicity itself could please now.  At least we are not likely
to have any such thing.  Our present choir of poetic virgins
write in the other extreme.  They colour their compositions so
highly with choice and dainty phrases, that their own dresses are
not more fantastic and romantic.  Their nightingales make as many
divisions as Italian singers.  But this is wandering from the
subject; and, while I only meant to tell you what I could not do
myself, I am telling you what others do ill..I will yet hazard
one other opinion, though relative to composition in general.
There are two periods favourable to poets: a rude age, when a
genius may hazard any thing, and when nothing has been
forestalled - the other is, when, after ages of barbarism and
incorrection, a master or two produces models formed by purity
and taste: Virgil, Horace, Boileau, Corneille, Racine, Pope.,
exploded the licentiousness that reigned before them.  What
happened? Nobody dared to write in contradiction to the severity
established; and very few had abilities to rival their masters.
insipidity ensues, novelty is dangerous, and bombast usurps the
throne which had been debased by a race of fain`eants.  This
rhapsody will probably convince you, Sir, how much you was
mistaken in setting any value on my judgment.

February will certainly be time enough for your piece to be
finished.  I again beg you, Sir, to pay no deference to my
criticisms, against your own cool reflections.  It is prudent to
consult others before one ventures on publication; but every
single person is as liable to be erroneous as an author.  An
elderly man, as he gains experience, acquires prejudices too:
Day, old age has generally two faults; it is too quick-sighted
into the faults of the time being, and too blind to the faults
that reigned in his own youth, which, having partaken of or
having admired, though injudiciously, he recollects with
complacence.  A key in writers for I confess, too, that there
must be two distinct views of writers 4 the stage, one of which
is more allowable to them than to other authors.  The one is
durable fame; the other, peculiar to dramatic authors, the view
of writing to the present taste, (and, perhaps, as you say, to
the level of the audience).  I do not mean for the sake of
profit; but even high comedy must risk a little of its
immortality by consulting the ruling taste; and thence comedy
always loses some of its beauties, the transient, and some of its
intelligibility.  Like its harsher sister satire, many of its
allusions must vanish, as the objects it aims at correcting
ceases to be in vogue; and, perhaps, that cessation, the natural
death of fashion, is often ascribed by an author to his own
reproofs.  Ladies would have left off patching on the Whig or
Tory side of their face, though Mr. Addison had not written his
excellent Spectator.(534)  Probably even they who might be
corrected by his reprimand, adopted some new distinction as
ridiculous; not discovering that his satire was levelled at their
partial animosity, and not at the mode of placing their patches;
for, unfortunately, as the world cannot be cured of being
foolish, a preacher who eradicates one folly, does but make room
for some other.

(533) Now first collected.

(534) The singularly clever and witty paper here alluded to was
written by Addison himself; it is No. 81, "Female Party-spirit
Discovered by Patches," and was published June 2, 1711-D. T.



Letter 284 To The Hon. H. S. Conway.
Strawberry Hill, Oct. 15, 1784. (page 356)

As I have heard nothing from you, I flatter myself Lady Ailesbury
mends, or I think you would have brought her again to the
physicians.  you will, I conclude, next week, as towards the end
of it the ten days they named will be expired.  I must be in town
myself about Thursday, on some little business of my own.

As I was writing this, my servants called me away to see a
balloon.  I suppose Blanchard's, that was to be let off from
Chelsea this morning.  I saw it from the common field before the
window of my 'round tower.  It appeared about the third of the
size of the moon, or less, when setting, something above the tops
of the trees on the level horizon.  It was then descending; and,
after rising and declining a little, it sunk slowly behind the
trees, I should think about or beyond Sunbury, at five minutes
after one.  But you know I am a very inexact guesser at measures
and distances, and may be mistaken in many miles; and you know
how little I have attended to those airgonaut;.  only t'other
night I diverted myself with a sort of meditation on future
airgonation, supposing that it Will not only be perfected, but
will depose navigation.  I did not finish it, because I am not
skilled, like the gentleman that used to write political
ship-news, in that style, which I wanted to perfect my essay -.
but in the prelude I observed how ignorant the ancients Were in
supposing that Icarus melted the wax of his Wings by too near
access to the sun, whereas he would have been frozen to death
before he made the first post on that road.  Next, I discovered
an alliance between Bishop Wilkins's art Of flying, and his plan
of an universal language the latter of which he no doubt
calculated to prevent the want of an interpreter when he should
arrive at the moon.

But I chiefly amused myself with ideas of the change that would
be made in the world by the substitution of balloons to ships.  I
supposed our seaports to become deserted villages; and
Salisbury-plain, Newmarhet-heath, (another canvass for alteration
of ideas,) and all downs (but the Downs) arising into dock-yards
for aerial vessels.  Such a field would be ample in furnishing
new speculations.  But to come to my ship-news:--

"The good balloon Dedalus, Captain Wing-ate, will fly in a few
days for China; he will stop at the top of the Monument to take
in passengers.

"Arrived on Brand-sands, the Vulture, Captain Nabob; the Tortoise
snow, from Lapland; the Pet-en-l'air, from Versailles; the
Dreadnought, from Mount Etna, Sir W. Hamilton commander; the
Tympany, Montgolfier; and the Mine-A-in-a-bandbox, from the Cape
of Good Hope.  Foundered in a hurricane, the Bird of Paradise,
from Mount Ararat.  The Bubble, Sheldon, took fire, and was burnt
to her gallery; and the phoenix is to be cut down to a
second-rate."

In those days Old Sarum will again be a town and have houses in
it.  There will be fights in the air with wind-guns and bows and
arrows; and there will be prodigious increase of land for
tillage, especially in France, by breaking up all public roads as
useless.  But enough of my fooleries; for which I am sorry you
must pay double, postage.



Letter 285 To John Pinkerton, Esq.(535)
October 28, 1784. (page 358)

I would not answer your letter, Sir, till I could tell you that I
had put Your play into Mr. Colman's hands, which I have done.  He
desired my consent to his carrying it into the country to read it
deliberately: you shall know as soon as I receive his
determination.  I am Much obliged to you for the many civil and
kind expressions in your letter, and for the friendly information
you give me.  Partiality, I fear, dictated the former; but the
last I can only ascribe to the goodness of your heart.  I have
published nothing Of any size but the pieces you mention, and one
or two small tracts now out of print and forgotten.  The rest
have been prefaces to my Strawberry editions, and to a few other
publications; and some fugitive pieces which I reprinted several
years ago in a small volume, and which shall be at your service,
with the Catalogue of Noble Authors.

With regard to the bookseller who has taken the trouble to
collect my writings, (amongst which I do not doubt but he will
generously bestow on me many that I did not write, according to
the liberal practice of such compilers,) and who also intends to
write my life, to which, (as I never did any thing Worthy of the
notice of the public) he must likewise be a volunteer
contributor, it Would be vain for me to endeavour to prevent such
a design.  Whoever has been so ill advised as to throw himself on
the public, must pay such a tax in a pamphlet or magazine when he
dies; but, happily, the insects that prey on carrion are still
more short-lived than the carcases were, from which they draw
their nutriment.  Those momentary abortions live but a day, and
are thrust aside by like embryos.  Literary characters, when not
illustrious, are known only to a few literary men; and amidst the
world of books, few readers can come to my share.  Printing, that
secures existence (in libraries) to indifferent authors of any
bulk, is like those cases of Egyptian mummies which in catacombs
preserve bodies of one knows not Whom, and which are scribbled
over with characters that nobody attempts to read, till nobody
understands the language in which they were written.  I believe
therefore it Will be most wise to swim for a moment on the
passing current, secure that it will soon hurry me into the ocean
where all things are forgotten.  To appoint a biographer is to
bespeak a panegyric; and I doubt whether they who collect their
books for the Public, and, like me, are conscious of no intrinsic
worth, do but beg mankind to accept of talents (whatever they
were) in lieu of virtues.  To anticipate spurious publications by
a comprehensive and authentic one, is almost as great an evil: it
is giving a body to scattered atoms; and such an act in one's old
age is declaring a fondness for the indiscretions of Youth, or
for the trifles of an age which, though more mature, is only the
less excusable.  it is most true, Sir, that, so far from being
prejudiced in favour of my own writings I am persuaded that, had
I thought early as I think now, I would never have appeared as an
author.  Age, frequent illness and pain, have given me as many
hours of reflection in the intervals of the two latter, as the
two latter have disabled from reflection; and, besides their
showing me the inutility of all our little views, they have
suggested an observation that I love to encourage in myself from
the rationality of it.  I have learnt and practised the
humiliating task of comparing myself with great authors; and that
comparison has annihilated all the flattery that self-love could
suggest.  I know how trifling my own writings are, and how far
below the standard that constitutes excellence: as for the shades
that distinguish the degrees of mediocrity, they are not worth
discrimination; and he must be very modest, or easily satisfied,
who can be content to glimmer for an instant a little more than
his brethren glow-worms.  Mine, therefore, you find, Sir, is not
humility, but pride.  When young, I wished for fame; not
examining whether I was capable of attaining it, nor considering
in what lights fame was desirable.  There are two sorts of fame;
that attendant on the truly great, and that better sort that is
due to the good.  I fear I did not aim at the latter, not-
discovered, till too late, that I could not compass the former.
Having neglected the best road, and having, instead of the other,
strolled into a narrow path that led to no good worth seeking, I
see the idleness of my journey, and hold it more graceful to
abandon my wanderings to chance or oblivion, than to mark
solicitude for trifles, which I think so myself.

I beg your pardon for talking so much of myself; but an answer
was due to the unmerited attention which you have paid to my
writings.  I turn with more pleasure to speak on yours.  Forgive
me if I shall blame you, whether you either abandon your
intention, or are too impatient to execute it.(536)  Your preface
proves that you are capable of treating the subject ably; but
allow me to repeat, that it is a work that ought not to be
performed impetuously.  A mere recapitulation of authenticated
facts would be dry; a more enlarged plan would demand much
acquaintance with the characters of the actors, and with the
probable sources of measures.  The present time is accustomed to
details and anecdotes; and the age immediately preceding one's
own is less known to any man than the history of any other
period.  You are young en - ugh, Sir, to collect information on
many particulars that will occur in your progress, from living
actors, at least from their contemporaries; and, great as your
ardour may be, you will find yourself delayed by the want of
materials, and by further necessary inquiries.  As you have a
variety of talents, why should not you exercise them on works
that will admit of more rapidity; and at the same time, in
leisure moments, commence, digest, and enrich your plan by
collecting new matter for it?

In one word, I have too much zeal for your credit, not to
dissuade you from precipitation in a work of the kind you
meditate.  That I speak sincerely you are sure; as accident, not
design, made you acquainted with my admiration of your tract on
medals.  If I wish to delay your history, it must be from wishing
that it may appear with more advantages; and I must speak
disinterestedly, as my age will not allow me to hope to see it,
if not finished soon.  I should not forgive myself if I turned
you from prosecution of your work; but, as I am certain that my
writings can have given you no opinion of my having sound and
deep judgment, pray follow your own, and allow no merit but that
of sincerity and zeal to the sentiments of yours, etc.

(535) Now first collected.

(536) Of writing a history of the reign of George the Second.



Letter 286 To Miss Hannah More.
Strawberry Hill, Nov. 13, 1784. (page 360)

Thank you a thousand times, dear Madam, for your obliging letter
and the new Bristol stones you have sent me, which would pass on
a more skilful lapidary than I am for having been brillianted by
a professed artist, if you had not told me that they came shining
-out of a native mine, and had no foreign diamond-dust to polish
them.  Indeed, can one doubt any longer that Bristol Is as rich
and warm a soil as India?  I am convinced it has been so of late
years, though I question its having been so luxuriant in Alderman
Canning's days; and I have MORE reasons for thinking so, than
from the marvels' of Chatterton.--But I will drop metaphors, lest
some nabob should take me au pi`e de la lettre, fit out an
expedition, plunder your city, and massacre you for weighing too
many carats.

Seriously, Madam, I am surprised-and chiefly at the kind of
genius of this unhappy female.(537)  Her ear, as you remark, is
perfect but that, being a gift of nature, amazes me less.  Her
expressions are more exalted than poetic; and discover taste, as
you say, rather than discover flights of fancy and wild ideas, as
one should expect.  I should therefore advise her quitting blank
verse, which wants the highest colouring, to distinguish it from
prose; whereas her taste, and probably good sense, might give
sufficient beauty to her rhymes.  Her not being learned is
another reason against her writing in blank verse.  Milton
employed all his reading, nay, all his geographic knowledge, to
enrich his language, and succeeded.  They who have imitated him
in that particular, have been mere monkeys; and they who
neglected it, flat and poor.

Were I not persuaded by the samples you have sent me, Madam, that
this woman has talents, I should not advise encouraging her
propensity, lest it should divert her from the care of her
family, and, after the novelty is over, leave her worse than she
was.  When the late Queen patronized Stephen Duck,(538) who was
only a wonder at first, and had not genius enough to support the
character he had promised, twenty artisans and labourers turned
poets, and starved.(539)  Your poetess can scarce be more
miserable than she is, and even the reputation of being an
authoress may procure her customers: but as poetry is one of your
least excellencies, Madam (your virtues will forgive 'me), I am
sure you will not only give her counsels for her works, but for
her conduct; and your gentleness will blend them so judiciously,
that she will mind the friend as well as the mistress.  She must
remember that she is a Lactilla, not a Pastora; and is to tend
real cows, not Arcadian sheep.

What! if I should go a step farther, dear Madam, and take the
liberty of reproving you for putting into this poor woman's hands
such a frantic thing as The Castle of Otranto?  It was fit for
nothing but the age in which it was written: an age in which much
was known; that -required only to be amused, nor cared whether
its amusements were conformable to truth and the models of good
sense; that could not be spoiled; was in no danger of being too
credulous and rather wanted to be brought back to imagination,
than to be led astray by it:-but you will have made a hurly-burly
in this poor woman's head, which it cannot develop and digest.

I will not reprove, without suggesting something in my turn.
Give her Dryden's Cock and Fox, the standard of good sense,
poetry, nature, and ease.  I would recommend others of his tales:
but her imagination is already too gloomy, and should be
enlivened; for which reason I do not name Mr. Gray's Eton Ode and
Churchyard.' Prior's Solomon (for I doubt his Alma, though far
superior, is too learned for her limited reading,) would be very
proper.  In truth, I think the cast of the age (I mean in its
compositions) is too sombre.  The flimsy giantry of Ossian has
introduced mountainous horrors.  The exhibitions at
Somerset-house are crowded with Brobdignag ghosts.  Read and
explain to her a charming poetic familiarity called the
Blue-stocking Club.  If she has not your other pieces, might I
take the liberty, Madam, of begging you to buy them for her, and
let me be in your debt?  And that your lessons may win their way
more easily, even though her heart be good, will you add a guinea
or two, as you see proper? And though I do not love to be named,
yet, if it would encourage a subscription, I should have no
scruple.  It will be best to begin moderately! for, if she should
take Hippocrene for Pactolus, we may hasten her ruin, not
contribute to her fortune.

On recollection, you had better call me Mr. Anybody, than name my
name, which I fear is in bad odour at Bristol, on poor
Chatterton's account; and it may be thought that I am atoning his
ghost: though, if his friends would show my letters to him, you
would find that I was as tender to him as to your milkwoman: but
that they have never done, among other instances of their
injustice.  However, I beg you to say nothing on that subject, as
I have declared I would not.

I have seen our excellent friend in Clarges-street: she complains
as usual of her deafness; but I assure you it is at least not
worse, nor is her weakness.  Indeed I think both her and Mr.
Vesey better than last winter.  When will you blue-stocking
yourself and come amongst us?  Consider how many of us are
veterans; and, though we do not trudge on foot according to the
institution, we may be out at heels-and the heel, you know,
Madam, has never been privileged.

(537) Mrs. Yearsley, the milkwoman of Bristol, whose talent was
discovered by Miss Hannah More, who solicited for her the
protection of Mrs. Montagu, in a prefatory letter prefixed to her
Poems, published in quarto, in the year 1785.-E.

(538) Some of Stephen Duck the thresher's verses having been
shown to Queen Caroline she settled twelve shillings a-week upon
him, and appointed him keeper of her select library at
Richmond.(539)  He afterwards took orders, and obtained the
living of Byfleet, in Surrey; but growing melancholy, in 1750, he
threw himself into the river, near Reading, and was drowned.
Swift wrote upon him the following epigram--

The thresher, Duck, could o'er the Queen prevail;
The proverb says, No fence against a flail;
>From threshing corn, he turns to thresh his brains,
For which her Majesty allow him grains;
Though 'tis confest, that those who ever saw
His poems, think them all not worth a straw.
Thrice happy Duck! employ'd in threshing stubble,
Thy toil is lessen'd, and thy profits double."-E.

(539) "Robert Bloomfield," says Mr. Crabbe, in his journal for
1817, "had better have rested as a shoemaker, or even a farmer's
boy; for he would have been a farmer perhaps in time, and now he
is an unfortunate poet."  Poor John Clare, it will be
recollected, died in a workhouse.-E.



Letter 287 To The Hon. H. S. Conway.
Sunday Night, Nov. 28, 1784. (page 362)

I have received the parcel of papers you sent me, which I
conclude come from Lord Strafford, and will apply them as well as
I possibly can, you may be sure, but with little hope of doing
any good: humanity is no match for cruelty.  There are now and
then such angelic beings as Mr. Hanway and Mr. Howard; but our
race in general is pestilently bad and malevolent.  I have been
these two years wishing to promote my excellent friend Mr.
Porter's plan for alleviating the woes of chimney-sweepers, but
never could make impression on three people; on the contrary,
have generally caused a smile.

George Conway's intelligence of hostilities commenced between the
Dutch and Imperialists makes me suppose that France will support
the former--or could they resist?  Yet I had heard that France
would not.  Some have thought, as I have done, that a combination
of partition would happen between Austria, France, and Prussia,
the modern law of nations for avoiding wars.  I know nothing: so
my conjectures may all be erroneous; especially as one argues
reason; a very inadequate judge, as it leaves passions, caprices,
and accidents, out of its calculation.  It does not seem the
interest of France, that the Emperor's power should increase in
their neighbourhood and extend to the sea.  Consequently it is
France's interest to protect Holland in concert with Prussia.
This last is a transient power, and may determine on the death of
the present King; but the Imperial is a permanent force, and must
be the enemy of France, however present connexions may incline
the scale.

In any case, I hope we shall no way be hooked into the quarrel
not only from the impotence of our circumstances, but as I think
it would decide the loss of Ireland, which seems tranquillizing:
but should we have any bickering with France, she would renew the
manoeuvres she practised so fatally in America.  These are my
politics; I do not know with whose they coincide or disagree, nor
does it signify a straw.  Nothing will depend on my opinion; nor
have I any opinion about them, but when I have nothing at all to
do that amuses me more, or nothing else to fill a letter.

I can give you a sample of my idleness, what may divert Lady
Ailesbury and your academy of arts and sciences for a minute in
the evening.  It came into my head yesterday to send a card to
Lady Lyttelton, to ask when she would be in town; here it is in
an heroic epistle:- From a castle as vast as the castles on
signs,--

>From a hill that all Africa's molehills outshines,
This epistle is sent to a cottage so small,
That the door cannot ope if you stand in the hall,
To a lady who would be fifteen, if her knight
And old swain were as young as Methusalem quite;
It comes to inquire, not whether her eyes
Are as radiant as ever, but how many sighs
He must vent to the rocks and the echoes around,
(Though nor echo nor rock in the parish is found,)
Before she, obdurate, his passion will meet--
His passion to see her in Portugal-street?

As the sixth line goes rather too near the core, do not give a
copy of it: however, I should be sorry if it displeased; though I
do not believe it will, but be taken with good-humour as it was
meant.(540)

(540) It was taken in perfect good-humour; and Lady Lyttelton
returned the following answer, which Mr. Walpole owned was better
than his address:--

"Remember'd, though old by a wit and a beau!
I shall fancy, ere long, I'm a Ninon L'Enclos:
I must feel impatient such kindness to meet,
And shall hasten my flight into Portugal-street."
Ripley Cottage, 28th Nov.



Letter 288 To Miss Hannah More.
Berkeley Square, April 5, 1785. (page 363)

Had I not heard part of your conversation with Mrs. Carter the
other night, Madam, I should certainly not have discovered the
authoress of the very ingenious anticipation of our future
jargon.(541)  How should I?  I am not fortunate Enough to know
all your talents; nay, I question whether you yourself suspect
all you possess.  Your Bas Bleu is in a style very, different
from any of your other productions that I have seen; and this
letter, which shows your intuition Into the degeneracy of our
language, has a vein of humour and satire that could not be
calculated from your Bas Bleu, in which good nature and
good-humour had made a great deal of learning wear all the ease
of familiarity.  I did wish you to write another Percy, but I beg
now that you will first produce a specimen of all the various
manners in which you can shine; for, since you are as modest as
if your issue were illegitimate, I don't know but, like some
females really in fault, you would stifle some of your pretty
infants, rather than be detected and blush.

In the mean time, I beseech you not only to print your Specimen
of the Language that is to be in fashion, but have it entered at
Stationers' hall; or depend upon it, if ever a copy falls into
the hands of a fine gentleman yet unborn, who shall be able both
to read and write, he will adopt your letter for his own, and the
Galimatias will give the ton to the court, as Euphues did near
two hundred years ago; and then you will have corrupted our
language instead of defending it: and surely it is not your
interest, Madam, to have pure English grow obsolete.

If you do not promise to grant my request, I will show your
letter every where to those that are worthy of seeing it; that
is, indeed, in very few places; for you shall have the honour of
it.  It is one of those compositions that prove themselves
standards, by begetting imitations; and if the genuine parent is
unknown, it will be ascribed to every body that is supposed (in
his own set) to have more wit than the rest of the world.  I
should be diverted, I own, to hear it faintly disavowed by some
who would wish to pass for its authors; but still there is more
pleasure in doing justice to merit, than in drawing vain
pretensions into a scrape; and, therefore, I think you and I had
better be honest and acknowledge it, though to you (for I am out
of the question, but as evidence) it will be painful; for though
the proverb says, "Tell truth and shame the devil," I believe he
is never half so much confounded as a certain amiable young
gentlewoman, who is discovered to have more taste and abilities
than she ever ventured to ascribe to herself even in the most
private dialogues with her own heart, especially when that native
friend is so pure as to have no occasion to make allowances even
for self-love.  For my part, I am most seriously obliged to you,
Madam, for so agreeable and kind a communication.

(541) This is an answer to the following anonymous letter, sent
to Mr. Walpole by Miss Hannah More, ridiculing the prevailing
adoption of French idioms into the English language.  There is
not in this satirical epistle one French word nor one English
idiom:--

"A Specimen of the English Language, as it will probably be
written and spoken in the next century.  In a letter from a lady
to her friend, in the reign of George the Fifth.

Alamode Castle, June 20, 1840.

Dear Madam,
"I NO sooner found myself here than I visited my new apartment,
which is composed of five pieces: the small room, which gives
upon the garden, is practised through the great one; and there is
no other issue.  As I was quite exceeded with fatigue, I had no
sooner made my toilette, than I let myself fall on a bed of
repose, where sleep came to surprise me.

" My lord and I are on the intention to make good cheer, and a
great expense; -and this country is in possession to furnish
wherewithal to amuse oneself.  All that England has of
illustrious, all that youth has of amiable, or beauty of
ravishing, sees itself in this quarter.  Render yourself here,
then, my friend; and you shall find assembled all that there is
of best, whether for letters, whether for birth.

"Yesterday I did my possible to give to eat; the dinner was of
the last perfection, and the wines left nothing to desire.  The
repast was seasoned with a thousand rejoicing sallies, full of
salt and agreement, and one more brilliant than another.  Lady
France, charmed me as for the first time; she is made to paint,
has a great air, and has infinitely of expression in her
physiognomy; her manners have as much of natural as her figure
has of interesting.

"I had prayed Lady B, to be of this dinner, as I had heard
nothing but good of her; but I am now disabused on her subject:
she is past her first youth, has very little instruction, is
inconsequent, and subject to caution; but having evaded with one
of her pretenders, her reputation has been committed by the bad
faith of a friend, on whose fidelity she reposed herself; she is,
therefore fallen into devotion, goes no more to spectacles, and
play is detested at her house.  Though she affects a mortal
serious, I observed that her eyes were Of intelligence with those
of Sir James, near whom I had taken care to plant myself, though
this is always a sacrifice which costs.  Sir James is a great
sayer of nothings; it is a spoilt mind, full of fatuity and
pretension: his conversation is a tissue of impertinences, and
the bad tone which reigns at present has put the last hand to his
defect,.  He makes but little care of his word; but, as he lends
himself to whatever is proposed of amusing, the women all throw
themselves at his head.  Adieu"



Letter 289 To John Pinkerton, Esq.(542)
June 22, 1785. (page 365)

Since I received your book,(543) Sir, I scarce ceased from
reading till I had finished it; so admirable I found it, and so
full of good sense, brightly delivered.  Nay, I am pleased with
myself too for having formed the same opinions with you on
several points, in which we do not agree with the generality of
men.  On some topics, I confess frankly, I do not concur with
you: Considering how many you have touched, it would be wonderful
if we agreed on all, or I should not be sincere if I said I did.
There are others on which I have formed no opinion; for I should
give myself an impertinent air, with no truth, if I pretended to
have any knowledge of many subjects, of which, young as you are,
you seem to have made yourself master.  Indeed, I have gone
deeply into nothing, and therefore shall not discuss those heads
which we differ most: as probably I should not defend my own
opinions well.  There is but one part of your work to which I
will venture any objection, though you have considered it much,
and I little, very little indeed, with regard to your proposal,
which to me is but two days old: I mean your plan for the
improvement of our language, which I allow has some defects, and
which wants correction in several particulars.  The specific
amendment which you propose, and to which I object, is the
addition of a's and O's to our terminations.  To change s for a
in the plural number for our substantives and adjectives would be
so violent an alteration, that I believe neither the power of
Power nor the power of Genius would be able, to effect it.  In
most cases I am convinced that very strong innovations are more
likely to make impression than small and almost imperceptible
differences, as in religion, medicine, politics, etc.; but I do
not think that language can be treated in the same manner,
especially in a refined age.  When a nation first emerges from
barbarism, two or three masterly writers may operate wonders; and
the fewer the number of writers, as the number is small at such a
period, the more absolute is their authority.  But when a country
has been polishing itself for two or three centuries, and when
consequently authors are innumerable, the most supereminent
genius (or whoever is esteemed so, though without foundation,)
possesses very limited empire, and is far from meeting implicit
obedience.  Every petty writer will contest very novel
institutions: every inch of change in language will be disputed;
and the language will remain as it was, longer than the tribunal
which should dictate very heterogeneous alterations.  With regard
to adding a or o to final consonants, consider, Sir, should the
usage be adopted, what havoc it would make! All our poetry would
be defective in metre, or would become at once as obsolete as
Chaucer; and could we promise ourselves, that, though we should
have better harmony and more rhymes, we should have a new crop of
poets, to replace Milton, Dryden, Gray, and, I am sorry you will
not allow me to add, Pope! You might enjoin our prose to be
reformed, as you have done by the Spectator in your thirty-fourth
Letter; but try Dryden's Ode by your new institution.

I beg your pardon for these trivial observations: I assure you I
could write a letter ten times as long, if I were to specify all
I like in your work.  I more than like most of it; and I am
charmed with your glorious love of liberty, and your other humane
and noble sentiments.  Your book I shall with great pleasure send
to Mr. Colman: may I tell him, without naming you, that it is
written by the author of the comedy I offered to him? He must be
struck with your very handsome and generous conduct in printing
your encomiums on him, after his rejecting your piece.  It is as
great as uncommon, and gives me ,,Is good an opinion of your
heart, Sir, as your book does of your great sense.  Both assure
me that you will not take ill the liberty I have used in
expressing my doubts on your plan for amending our language, or
for any I may use in dissenting from a few other sentiments in
your work; as I shall in what I think your too low opinion of
some of the French writers, of your preferring Lady Mary Wortley
to Madame de S`evign`e, and of your esteeming Mr. Hume a man of a
deeper and more solid understanding than Mr. Gray.  In the two
last articles it is impossible to think more differently than we
do.  In Lady Mary's Letters, which I never could read but once, I
discovered no merit of any sort; yet I have seen others by her
(unpublished)(544) that have a good deal of wit; and for Mr. Hume
give me leave to say that I think your opinion, "that he might
have ruled a state," ought to be qualified a little; as in the
very next page you say, his History is "a mere apology for
prerogative," and a very weak one.  If he could have ruled a
state, one must presume, at best, that he would have been an able
tyrant; and yet I should suspect that a man, who, sitting coolly
in his chamber, could forge but a weak apology for the
prerogative, would not have exercised it very wisely.  I knew
personally and well both Mr. Hume and Mr. Gray, and thought there
was no degree of comparison between their understandings; and, in
fact, Mr. Hume's writings were so superior to his conversation,
that I frequently said he understood nothing till he had written
upon it.  What you say, Sir, of the discord in his history from
his love of prerogative and hatred of churchmen, flatters me
much; as I have taken notice of that very unnatural discord in a
piece I printed some years ago, but did not publish, and which I
will show to you when I have the pleasure of seeing you here; a
satisfaction I shall be glad to taste, whenever you will let me
know you are at leisure after the beginning of next week.  I have
the honour to be, Sir, etc.

(542) Now first collected.

(543) His "Letters of Literature," published this year under the
name of Heron.  "It had been well for Mr. Pinkerton's
reputation," observes Mr. Dawson Turner ,had these Letters never
been published at all.  In a copy now before me, lately the
property of one of our most eminent critics, Mr. Fark, I read the
following very just quotation, in his handwriting: 'Multa
venust`e, multa tenuiter multa cuni bile.'  Mr. Pinkerton
himself, in his 'Walpoliana,' admits that Heron's Letters was 'a
book written in early youth, and contained many juvenile crude
ideas long since abandoned by its author.' Would that the
crudeness of many of the ideas were the worst that was to be said
of it! but we shall find, in the course of this correspondence,
far heavier and not less just complaints.  The name of Heron,
here assumed by Mr. Pinkerton, was that of his mother."-E.

(544) See vol. iii. p. 217, letter 155.-E.



Letter 290 To John Pinkerton, Esq.(545)
June 26, 1785. (page 367)

I have sent your book to Mr. Colman, Sir, and must desire you in
return to offer my grateful thanks to Mr. Knight, who has done me
an honour, to which I do not know how I am entitled, by the
present of his poetry, which is very classic, and beautiful, and
tender, and of chaste simplicity.  To your book, Sir, I am much
obliged on many accounts; particularly for having recalled my
mind to subjects of delight, to which.  it was grown dulled by
age and indolence.  In consequence of your reclaiming it, I asked
myself whence you feel so much disregard for certain authors
whose fame is established: you have assigned good reasons for
withholding your approbation from some, on the plea of their
being imitators: it was natural, then, to ask myself again,
whence they had obtained so much celebrity.  I think I have
discovered a cause, which I do not remember to have seen noted;
and that cause I suspect to have been, that certain of those
authors possessed grace:--do not take me for a disciple of Lord
Chesterfield, nor Imagine that I mean to erect grace into a
capital ingredient of writing; but I do believe that it is a
perfume that will preserve from putrefaction, and is distinct
even from style, which regards expression.  Grace, I think,
belongs to manner.  It is from the charm of grace that I believe
some authors, not in Your favour, obtained part of their renown;
Virgil in particular: and yet I am far from disagreeing with you
on his subject in general.  There is such a dearth of invention
in the -,Eneid, (and when he did invent, it was often so
foolishly,) so little good sense, so little variety, and so
little power over the passions, that I have frequently said, from
contempt for his matter, and from the charm of his harmony, that
I believe I should like his poem better, if I was to hear it
repeated, and did not understand Latin.  On the other hand, he
has more than harmony: whatever he utters is said gracefully, and
he ennobles his images, especially in the Georgics; or at least
it is more sensible there from the humility of the subject.  A
Roman farmer might not understand his diction in agriculture; but
he made a Roman courtier Understand farming, the farming of that
age, and could captivate a lord of Augustus's bedchamber, and
tempt him to listen to themes of rusticity.  On the contrary,
Statius and Claudian, though talking of war, would make a soldier
despise them as bullies.  That graceful manner of thinking in
Virgil seems to me to be more than style, if I do not refine too
much; and I admire, I confess, Mr. Addison's phrase, that Virgil
"tossed about his dung with an air of majesty."  A style may be
excellent without grace: for instance, Dr. Swift's.  Eloquence
may bestow an immortal style, and one of more dignity; yet
eloquence may want that ease, that genteel air that flows from or
constitutes grace. Addison himself was master of that grace, even
in his pieces of humour, and which do not owe their merit to
style; and from that combined secret he excels all men that ever
lived, but Shakspeare, in humour, by never dropping into an
approach towards burlesque and buffoonery', when even his humour
descended to characters that in any other hands would have been
vulgarly low.  Is not it clear that Will Wimble(546) was a
gentleman, though he always lived at a distance from good company
.  Fielding had as much humour, perhaps, as Addison; but, having
no idea of grace, is perpetually disgusting.
His innkeepers and parsons are the grossest of their profession
and his gentlemen are awkward, when they should be at their ease.

The Grecians had grace in every thing; in poetry, in oratory, in
statuary, in architecture, and, probably, in music and painting.
The Romans, it is true, were their imitators; but, having grace
too, imparted it to their copies, which gave them a merit that
almost raises them to the rank of originals.  Horace's Odes
acquired their fame, no doubt, from the graces of his manner and
purity of his style, the chief praise of Tibullus and Propertius,
who certainly cannot boast of more meaning than Horace's Odes.

Waller, whom you proscribe, Sir, owed his reputation to the
graces of his manner, though he frequently stumbled, and even
fell flat; but a few of his smaller pieces are as graceful as
possible: one might say that he excelled in painting ladies in
enamel, but could not succeed in portraits in oil, large as life.
Milton had such superior merit, that I will only say, that if his
angels, his Satan, and his Adam have as much dignity as the
Apollo Belvidere, his Eve has all the delicacy and 'graces of the
Venus of Medicis; as his description of Eden has the colouring of
Albano.  Milton's tenderness imprints ideas as graceful as
Guido's Madonnas: and the Allegro, Penseroso, and Comus might be
denominated from the three Graces; as the Italians gave similar
titles to two or three of Petrarch's best sonnets.

Cowley, I think, would have had grace, (for his mind was
graceful,) if he had had any ear, or if his taste had not been
vitiated by the pursuit of wit; which, when it does not offer
itself naturally, degenerates into tinsel or pertness.  Pertness
is the mistaken affectation of grace, as pedantry produces
erroneous dignity: the familiarity of the one, and the clumsiness
of the other, distort or prevent grace.  Nature, that furnishes
samples of all qualities ', and on the scale of gradation
exhibits all possible shades, affords us types that are more
apposite than words.  The eagle is sublime, the lion majestic,
the swan graceful, the monkey pert, the bear ridiculously
awkward.  I mention these, as more expressive and comprehensive
than I could make definitions of my meaning; but I will apply the
swan only, under whose wings I will shelter an apology for
Racine, whose pieces give me an idea of that bird.  The colouring
of the swan is pure; his attitudes are graceful; he never
displeases you when sailing on his proper element.  His feet may
be ugly, his notes hissing, not musical, his walk not natural; he
can soar, but it is with difficulty:--still, the impression the
swan leaves is that of grace.  So does Racine.

Boileau may be compared to the dog, whose sagacity is remarkable,
as well as its fawning on its master, and its snarling at those
it dislikes.  If Boileau was too austere to admit the pliability
of grace, he compensates by good sense and propriety.  He is like
(for I will drop animals) an upright magistrate, whom you
respect, but whose justice and severity leaves an awe that
discourages familiarity.  His copies of the ancients may be too
servile; but if a good translator deserves praise, Boileau
deserves more.  He certainly does not fall below his originals;
and, considering at what period he wrote, has greater merit
still.  By his imitations he held out to his countrymen models of
taste, and banished totally the bad taste of his Predecessors.
For his Lutrin, replete with excellent poetry, wit, humour, and
satire, he certainly was not obliged to the ancients.  Excepting
Horace, how little idea had either Greeks or Romans of wit and
humour!  Aristophanes and Lucian, compared with moderns, were,
the one a blackguard, and the other a buffoon.  In my eyes, the
Lutrin, the Dispensary, and the Rape of the Lock, are standards
of grace and elegance, not to be paralleled by antiquity; and
eternal reproaches to Voltaire, whose indelicacy in the Pucelle
degraded him as much, when compared with the three authors I have
named, as his Henriade leaves Virgil, and even Lucan whom he more
resembles, by far his superiors.

The Dunciad is blemished by the offensive images of the games but
the poetry appears to me admirable; and though the fourth book
has obscurities, I prefer it to the three others; it has
descriptions not surpassed by any poet that ever existed, and
which surely a writer merely ingenious(547) will never equal.
The lines on Italy, on Venice, on Convents, have all the grace
for which I contend as distinct from poetry, though united with
the most beautiful; and the Rape of the Lock, besides the
originality of great part of the invention, is a standard of
graceful writing.

In general, I believe that what I call grace, is denominated
elegance; but by grace I mean something higher.  I will explain
myself by instances--Apollo is graceful, Mercury elegant.
Petrarch, perhaps, owed his whole merit to the harmony of his
numbers and the graces of his style, They conceal his poverty of
meaning and want of variety.  His complaints, too, may have added
an interest, which, had his passion been successful, and had
expressed itself with equal sameness, would have made the number
of his sonnets insupportable.  Melancholy in poetry, I am
inclined to think, contributes to grace, when it is not disgraced
by pitiful lamentations, such as Ovid's and Cicero's in their
banishments.  We respect melancholy, because it imparts a similar
affection, pity.  A gay writer, who should only express
satisfaction without variety, would soon be nauseous.

Madame de S`evign`e shines both in grief and gaiety.  There is
too much sorrow for her daughter's absence; yet it is always
expressed by new terms, by new images, and often by wit, whose
tenderness has a melancholy air.  When she forgets her concern,
and returns to her natural disposition-gaiety, every paragraph
has novelty; her allusions, her applications are the happiest
possible.  She has the art of making you acquainted with all her
acquaintance, and attaches you even to the spots she inhabited.
Her language is correct, though unstudied; and, when her mind is
full of any great event, she interests you with the warmth of a
dramatic writer, not with the chilling impartiality of an
historian.  Pray read her accounts of the death of Turenne, and
of the arrival of King James in France, and tell me whether you
do not know their persons as if you had lived at the, time, For
my part, if you will allow me a word of digression, (not that I
have written with any method,) I hate the cold impartiality
recommended to historians: "Si Vis me flere, dolendum est prim`um
ipsi tibi:" but, that I may not wander again, nor tire, nor
contradict you any more, I will finish now, and shall be glad if
you will dine at Strawberry Hill next Sunday and take a bed
there, when I will tell you how many more parts of your book have
pleased me, than have startled my opinions, or perhaps
prejudices.  I have the honour to be, Sir, with regard, etc.

(545) Now first collected.

  (546) See Spectator, No. 109.  Will Wimble was a Yorkshire
gentleman, whose name was Thomas Morecroll-E.

(547) Pinkerton had said Of Pope, that "he could only rank with
ingenious men," and that his works are superabundant with
superfluous and unmeaning verbiage - his translations even
replete with tautology, a fault which is to refinement as
midnight is to noonday; and, what is truly surprising, that the
fourth book of the Dunciad, his last publication, is more full of
redundancy and incorrectness than his Pastorals, which are his
first."-D. T.



Letter 291 To John Pinkerton, Esq.(548)
Strawberry Hill, July 27, 1785. (page 371)

You thank me much more than the gift deserved, Sir: my editions;
of such pieces as I have left, are waste paper to me.  I will not
sell them at the ridiculously advanced prices that are given for
them: indeed, only such as were published for sale, have I sold
at all; and therefore the duplicates that remain with me are to
me of no value, but when I can oblige a friend with them.  Of a
few of my impressions I have no copy but my own set; and, as I
could give you only an imperfect collection, the present was
really only a parcel of fragments.  My memory was in fault about
the Royal and Noble Authors.  I thought I had given them to you.
I recollect now that I only lent you my own copy; but I have
others in town, and you shall have them when I go thither.  For
Vertue's manuscript I am in no manner of haste.  I heard on
Monday, in London, that the Letters were written by a Mr.
Pilhington, probably from a confounded information of Maty's
Review; my chief reason for calling on you twice this week, was
to learn what you had heard, and shall be much obliged to you for
farther information; as I do not care to be too inquisitive,'
lest I should be suspected of knowing more of the matter.

There are many reasons, Sir, why I cannot come into your idea of
printing Greek.  In the first place, I have two or three
engagements for my press; and my time of life does not allow me
to look but a little way farther.  In the next, I cannot now go
into new expenses of purchase: my fortune is very much reduced,
both by my brother's death, and by the late plan of reformation.
The last reason would weigh with me, had I none of the others.
My admiration of the Greeks was a little like that of the mob on
other points, not from sound knowledge.  I never was a good Greek
scholar; have long forgotten what I knew of the language; and, as
I never disguise my ignorance of any thing, it would look like
affectation to print Greek authors.  I could not bear to print
them, without owning that I do not Understand them; and such a
confession would perhaps be as much affectation as unfounded
pretensions.  I must, therefore, stick to my simplicity, and not
go out of my line.  It is difficult to divest one's self of
vanity, because impossible to divest one's self of self-love.  If
one runs from one glaring vanity, one is catched by its opposite.
Modesty can be as vain-glorious on the ground, as Pride on a
triumphal car.  Modesty,
however, is preferable; for, should she contradict her
professions, still she keeps her own secret, and does not hurt
the pride of others.  I have the honour to be, Sir, with great
regard, yours.

(548) Now first collected.



Letter 292 To John Pinkerton, Esq.(549)
Strawberry Hill, August 18, 1785. (page 372)

I am sorry, dear Sir, that I must give you unanswerable reasons
why I cannot print the work you recommend.(550)  I have been so
much solicited since I set up my press to employ it for others,
that I was forced to make it a rule to listen to no such
applications.  I refused Lord Hardwicke to print a publication of
his; Lady Mary Forbes, to print letters of her ancestor, Lord
Essex; and the Countess of Aldborough, to print her father's
poems, though in a piece as small as what you mention.

These I recollect at once, besides others whose recommendations
do not immediately occur to my memory; though I dare to say they
do remember them, and would resent my breaking my rule.  I have
other reasons which I will not detail now, as the post goes out
so early: I will only beg you not to treat me with so much
ceremony, nor ever use the word humbly to me, who am in no ways
entitled to such respect.

One private gentleman is not superior to another in essentials: I
fear the virtues of an untainted young heart are preferable to
those of an old man long conversant with the world; and in the
soundness of understanding you have shown and will show a depth
which has not fallen to the lot of Your sincere humble servant.

(549) Now first collected.

(550) it is impossible to say with certainty what is the work
here alluded to; but most Probably, it was Ailred's Life of St.
Ninian of which it appears, from a letter from the Rev. Rogers
Ruding, dated August 4, 1785, that Mr. Pinkerton obtained at this
time a transcript through him from the manuscript in the Bodleian
Library. Pinkerton speaks of this manuscript, in the second
volume of his Early Scottish History, p. 266, as "a meagre piece,
containing very little as to Ninian's Pikish Mission."  The
letter alluded to from Mr, Ruding, shows Pinkerton to have turned
his mind to the antiquities of Scotland with great
earnestness.-D. T.



Letter 293 To John Pinkerton, Esq.(551)
Strawberry Hill, Sept. 17, 1785. (page 372)

You are too modest, Sir, in asking my advice on a point on which
you could have no better guide than your own judgment.  if I
presume to give you my opinion, it is from zeal for your honour.
I think it would be below you to make a regular answer to
anonymous scribblers in a Magazine: you had better wait to see
whether any formal reply is made to your book, and whether by any
avowed writer; to whom, if he writes sensibly and decently, you
may condescend to make an answer.  Still, as you say you have
been misquoted, I should not wish you to be quite silent, though
I should like better to have you turn such enemies into ridicule.
A foe who misquotes you, ought to be a welcome antagonist.  He is
so humble as to confess, when he censures what you have not said,
that he cannot confute what you have said; and he is so kind as
to furnish you with an opportunity of proving him a liar, as you
may refer to your book to detect him.

This is what I would do; I would specify, in the same Magazine in
which he has attacked you, your real words, and those he has
imputed to you; and then appeal to the equity of the reader.  You
may guess that the shaft comes from somebody whom you have
censured; and thence you may draw a fair conclusion, that you had
been in the right to laugh at one who was reduced to put his own
words into your mouth before he could find fault with them; and,
having so done, whatever indignation he has excited in the reader
must recoil on himself, as the offensive passages will come out
to have been his own, not yours.  You might even begin with
loudly condemning the words or thoughts imputed to you, as if you
retracted them; and then, as if you turned to your book, and
found that you had said no such thing there as what you was ready
to retract, the ridicule would be doubled on your adversary.

Something of this kind is the most I would stoop to; but I would
take the utmost care not to betray a grain of more anger than is
imp lied in contempt and ridicule.  Fools can only revenge
themselves by provoking; for then they bring you to a level with
themselves.  The good sense of your work will support it; and
there is scarce reason for defending it, but, by keeping up a
controversy, to make it more noticed; for the age is so idle and
indifferent, that few objects strike, unless parties are formed
for or against them.  I remember many years ago advising some
acquaintance of mine, who were engaged in the direction of the
Opera, to raise a competition between
two of their singers, and have papers written pro and con.; for
then numbers would go to clap and hiss the rivals respectively,
who would not go to be pleased with the music.

(551) Now first collected.



Letter 294 George Colman, Esq.(552)
Strawberry Hill, Sept. 19, 1785. (page 374)

Sir,
I beg your acceptance of a little work just printed here; and I
offer it as a token of my gratitude, not as pretending to pay YOU
for your last present.  A translation, however excellent, from a
very inferior Horace,(553) would be a most inadequate return; but
there is so much merit in the enclosed version, the language is
so pure, and the imitations of our poets so extraordinary, so
Much more faithful and harmonious than I thought the French
tongue could achieve, that I flatter myself you will excuse my
troubling You with an old performance of my own, when newly
dressed by a master hand.  As, too, there are not a great many
copies printed, and those only for presents, I have a particular
pleasure in making you one of the earliest compliments.

(552) Now first printed.

(553) The Due de Nivernois' translation of Walpole's Essay on
Gardening.-E.



Letter 295 To The Earl Of Buchan.(554)
Strawberry Hill, Sept. 23, 1785. (page 373)

Your lordship is too condescending when you incline to keep up a
correspondence with one who can expect to maintain it but a short
time, and whose intervals of health are resigned to idleness, not
dedicated, as they have sometimes been, to literary pursuits: for
what could I pursue with any prospect of accomplishment? or what
avails it to store a memory that must lose faster than it
acquires?  Your lordship's zeal for illuminating your country and
countrymen is laudable; and you are young enough to make a
progress; but a man who touches the verge of his sixty-eighth
year, ought to know that he is unfit to contribute to the
amusement of more active minds.  This consideration, my lord,
makes me much decline correspondence; having nothing new to
communicate, I perceive that I fill my letters with apologies for
having nothing to say.

If you can tap the secret stores of the Vatican, your lordship
will probably much enrich the treasury of letters.  Rome may have
preserved many valuable documents, as for ages intelligence from
all parts of Europe centred there; but I conclude that they have
hoarded little that might at any period lay open the share they
had in the most important transactions.  History, indeed, is
fortunate when even incidentally and collaterally it light's on
authentic information.

Perhaps, my lord, there is another repository, and nearer, which
it would be worth while to endeavour to penetrate: I mean the
Scottish College at Paris.  I have heard formerly, that numbers
Of papers, of various sorts, were transported at the Reformation
to Spain and Portugal: but, if preserved there, they probably are
not accessible yet.  If they were, how puny, how diminutive,
would all such discoveries, and others which we might call of far
greater magnitude, be to those of Herschel, who puts up millions
of covies of worlds at a beat!  My conception is not ample enough
to take in even a sketch of his glimpses; and, lest I should lose
myself in attempting to follow his investigations, I recall my
mind home, and apply it to reflect on what we thought we knew,
when we imagined we knew something (which we deemed a vast deal)
pretty correctly.  Segrais, I think, it was, who said with much
contempt, to a lady who talked of her star, "Your star! Madam,
there are but two thousand stars in all; and do you imagine that
you have a whole one to yourself?"  The foolish dame, it seems,
was not more ignorant than Segrais himself.  If our system
includes twenty millions of worlds, the lady had as much right to
pretend to a whole ticket as the philosopher had to treat her
like a servant-maid who buys a chance for a day in a state
lottery.

Stupendous as Mr. Herschel's investigations are, and admirable as
are his talents, his expression of our retired corner of the
universe, seems a little improper.  When a little emmet, standing
on its ant-hill, could get a peep into infinity, how could he
think he saw a corner in it?-a retired corner? Is there a bounded
side to infinitude! If there are twenty millions of worlds, why
not as many, and as many, and as many more? Oh! one's imagination
cracks! I ]one, to bait within distance of home, and rest at the
moon.  Mr. Herschel will content me if he can discover thirteen
provinces there, well inhabited by men and women, and protected
by the law of nations;(555) that law, which was enacted by Europe
for its own emolument, to the prejudice of the other three parts
of the globe, and which bestows the property of whole realms on
the first person who happens to espy them, who can annex them to
the crown of Great Britain, in lieu of those it has lost beyond
the Atlantic.

I am very ignorant in astronomy, as ignorant as Segrais or the
lady, and could wish to ask many questions; as Whether our
celestial globes must not be infinitely magnified?  Our orreries,
too, must not they be given to children, and new ones
constructed, that will at least take in our retired corner and
all its OUtflying constellations?  Must not that host of worlds
be christened?  Mr. Herschel himself has stood godfather for his
Majesty to the new Sidus.  His Majesty, thank God! has a numerous
issue; but they and all the princes and princesses in Europe
cannot supply appellations enough for twenty millions of new-born
stars: no, though the royal progenies of Austria, Naples, and
Spain, who have each two dozen saints for sponsors, should
consent to split their bead-rolls of names among the foundlings.
But I find I talk like an old nurse; and your lordship at last
will, I believe, be convinced that it is not worth your while to
keep up a correspondence with a man in his dotage, merely because
he has the honour of being, my lord, your lordship's most
obedient servant.

(554) Now first printed.

(555) The then thirteen United States of America.



Letter 296 To John Pinkerton, Esq.(556)
Strawberry Hill, Sept. 30, 1785. (page 376)

I do not possess, nor ever looked into one of the books you
specify; nor Mabillon's "Acta Sanctorum," nor O'Flaherty's
"Ogygia."  My reading has been very idle., and trifling, and
desultory; not that perhaps it has not been employed on authors
as respectable as those you want to consult, nor that I had not
rather read the deeds of sinners than Acta Sanctorum.  I have no
reverence but for sensible books, and consequently not for a
greater number; and had rather have read fewer than I have than
more.  The rest may be useful on certain points, as they happen
now to be to you; who, I am sure, would not read them for general
use and pleasure, and are a very different kind of author.  I
shall like, I dare to say, any thing you do write, but I am not
overjoyed at your wading into the history of dark ages' unless
you use it as a canvass to be embroidered with your opinions, and
episodes, and comparisons with more recent times.  That is a most
entertaining kind of writing.  In general, I have seldom wasted
time on the origin of nations, unless for an opportunity of
smiling at the gravity of the author, or at the absurdity of the
manners of those ages; for absurdity and bravery compose almost
all the anecdotes we have of them, except the accounts of what
they never did, nor thought of doing.  I have a real affection
for Bishop Hoadley: he stands with me in lieu of what are called
the Fathers; and I am much obliged to you for offering to lend me
a book of his: but, as my faith in him and his doctrines has long
been settled, I shall not return to such grave studies, when I
have so little time left, and desire only to pass it 'tranquilly,
and without thinking of what I can neither propagate nor correct.
When youth made me sanguine, I hoped mankind might be set right.
Now that I am very, old, I sit down with this lazy maxim; that,
unless one could cure men of being fools, it is to no purpose to
cure them of any folly, as it is only making room for some other.
Self-interest is thought to govern every man yet, is it possible
to be less governed by self-interest than men are in the
aggregate?  Do not thousands sacrifice even their lives for
single men?  Is not it an established rule in France, that every
person in that kingdom should love every king they have in his
turn?  What government is formed for general happiness?  Where is
not it thought heresy by the majority, to insinuate that the
felicity of one man ought not to be preferred to that Of
Millions?  Had not I better, at sixty-eight, leave men to these
preposterous notions, than return to Bishop Hoadley, and sigh?
Not but I have a heartfelt satisfaction when I hear that a mind
as liberal as his, and who has dared to utter sacred truths,
meets with approbation and purchasers of his work.  You must not,
however, flatter yourself, Sir, that all your purchasers are
admirers.  Some will buy your book, because they have heard of
opinions in it that offend them, and because they want to find
matter in it for abusing you.  Let them: the more it is
discussed, the more strongly Will your fame be established.  I
commend you for scorning any artifice to puff your book; but you
must allow me to hope it will be attacked.

I have another satisfaction in the sale of your book-; it will
occasion a second edition.  What if, as you do not approve of
confuting misquoters, you simply printed a list of their false
quotations, referring to the identical sentences, at the end of
your second edition?  That will be preserving their infamy, which
else would perish where it was born; and perhaps would deter
others from similar forgeries.  If any rational opponent staggers
you on any opinion of yours, I would retract it; and that would
be a second triumph.  I am, perhaps, too impertinent and forward
with advice: it is at best a proof of zeal; and you are under no
obligation to follow my counsel.  it is the weakness of old age
to be apt to give advice; but I will fairly arm you against
myself, by confessing that, when I was young, I was not apt to
take any.

(556) Now first collected.



Letter 297 To The Hon. H. S. Conway.
Strawberry Hill, Oct. 6, 1785. (page 377)

I wondered I did not hear from you, as I concluded you returned.
You have made me good amends by the entertaining story of your
travels.  If I were not too disjointed for long journeys, I
should like to see much of what you have seen; but if I had the
agility of Vestris, I would not purchase all that pleasure for my
eyes at the expense of my unsociability, which could not have
borne the hospitality you experienced.  It was always death to
me, when I did travel England, to have lords and ladies receive
me and show me their castles, instead of turning me over to their
housekeeper: it hindered my seeing any thing, and I was the whole
time meditating my escape; but Lady Ailesbury and you are not
such sensitive plants, nor shrink and close up if a stranger
holds out a hand.  I don't wonder you was disappointed with
Jarvis's windows at New College; I had foretold their
miscarriage.  The old and the new are as"mismatched as an orange
and a lemon, and destroy each other; nor is there room enough to
retire back and see half of the new; and Sir Joshua's washy
Virtues make the Nativity a dark spot from the darkness of the
Shepherds, which happened, as I knew it would, from most of
Jarvis's colours not being transparent.

I have not seen the improvements at Blenheim.  I used to think it
one of the ugliest places in England; a giant's castle, who had
laid waste all the country round him.  Every body now allows the
merit of Brown's achievements there.(557)

Of all your survey I wish most to see Beau Desert.  Warwick
Castle and Stowe I know by heart.  The first I had rather possess
than any seat upon earth: not that I think it the most beautiful
of all., though charming, but because I am so intimate with all
its proprietors for the last thousand years.

I have often and often studied the new plan of Stowe: it is
pompous; but though the Wings are altered, they are not
lengthened.  Though three parts of the edifices in the garden are
bad, they enrich that insipid country, and the vastness pleases
me more than I can defend.

I rejoice that your jaunt has been serviceable to Lady Ailesbury.
The Charming man(558) is actually with me; but neither he nor I
can keep our promise incontinently.  He expects two sons of his
brother Sir William, whom he is to pack up and send to the P`eres
de l'Oratoire at Paris.  I expect Lord and Lady Waldegrave
to-morrow, who are to pass a few days with me; but both the
Charming man and I will be with you soon.  I have no objection to
a wintry visit: as I can neither ride nor walk, it is more
comfortable when most of my time is passed within doors.  If I
continue perfectly well, as I am, i shall not settle in town till
after Christmas: there will not be half a dozen persons there for
whom I care a straw.


I know nothing at all.  The peace between the Austrian harpy and
the frogs is made.  They were stout, and preferred being gobbled
to parting with their money.  At last, France offered to pay the
money for them.  The harpy blushed-for the first time-and would
not take it; but signed the peace, and will plunder somebody
else.

Have you got Boswell's most absurd enormous book?(559)  The best
thing in it is a bon-mot of Lord Pembroke.(560)  "The more one
learns of Johnson, the more preposterous assemblage he appears
of' strong sense, of the lowest bigotry and prejudices, of pride,
brutality, fretfulness, and vanity; and Boswell is the ape of
most of his faults, without a grain of his sense.  It is the
story of a mountebank and his zany.

I forgot to say, that I wonder how, with your turn, and
knowledge, and enterprise, in scientific exploits, you came not
to visit the Duke of Bridgewater's operations; or did you omit
them, because I should not have understood a word you told me?
Adieu!

(557) "Capability Brown;"for an account of whom, see vol. ii. p.
112, letter 46.  "I took," says Hannah More, "a very agreeable
lecture from my friend Mr. Brown in his art, and he promised to
give me taste by inoculation.  I am sure he has a charming one;
and he illustrates every thing he says about gardening by some
literary or grammatical allusion.  He told me he compared his art
to literary composition.  'Now, there,' said he, pointing his
finger, 'I make a comma; and there,' pointing to another spot,
'where a more decided turn is proper, I make a colon: at another
part (where an interruption is desirable to break the view), a
parenthesis--now a full stop; and then I begin another subject.'"
Memoirs, vol. i. p. 26.-E.

(558) Edward Jerningham, Esq.  See post, September 4, 1789.-E.

(559) The "enormous book," of which Walpole here speaks so
disparagingly, is Boswell's popular "Journal of his Tour to the
Highlands and Islands of Scotland with Dr. Johnson, in the autumn
of 1773." It is now incorporated with the author's general
narrative of the Doctor's life in Mr. Croker's edition of 1831 -
and not the least interesting circumstance connected with it is,
that Johnson himself read, from time to time, Boswell's record of
his sayings and doings; and, so far from being displeased with
its minuteness, expressed great admiration of its accuracy, and
encouraged the chronicler to proceed with his grand ulterior
proceeding.  See Life, vol. i. P. viii. ed. 1835.-E.

(560) "Lord Pembroke said Once to me at Wilton that Dr. Johnson's
sayings would not appear so extraordinary, were it not for his
bow-Wow way." Ibid. vol. iv, p. 8.-E.



Letter 298 To The Earl Of Charlement.(561)
Strawberry Hill, Nov. 23, 1785. (page 379)

As your lordship has given me this opportunity, I cannot resist
saying, what I was exceedingly tempted to mention two or three
years ago, but had not the confidence.  In short, my lord, when
the order of St. Patrick was instituted, I had a mind to hint to
your lordship that it was exactly the moment for seizing an
occasion that has been irretrievably lost to this country.  When
I was at Paris, I found in the convent of Les Grands Augustins
three vast chambers filled with the portraits (and their names
and titles beneath) of all the knights of the St. Esprit, from
the foundation of the order.  Every new knight, with few
exceptions, gives his own portrait on his creation.  Of the order
of St. Patrick, I think but one founder is dead yet; and his
picture perhaps may be retrieved.  I will not make any apology to
so good a patriot as your lordship, for proposing a plan that
tends to the honour of his country, which I will presume to call
mine too, as it is both by union and my affection for it.  I
should wish the name of the painter inscribed too, which would
excite emulation in your artists.  But it is unnecessary to
dilate on the subject to your lordship; who, as a patron of the
arts, as well as a patriot, will improve on my imperfect
thoughts, and, if you approve of them, can give them stability.
I have the honour to beg my lord, etc.

(561) Now first collected.



Letter 299 To Lady Browne.(562)
Berkeley Square, Dec. 14, 1785. (page 379)

I am extremely obliged to your ladyship for your kind letter;
and, though I cannot write myself, I can dictate a few lines.
This has not been a regular fit of the gout, but a worse case:
one of my fingers opened with a deposit of chalk,(563) and
brought on gout, and both together an inflammation and swelling
almost up to my shoulder.  in short, I was forced to have a
surgeon, who has managed me so Judiciously, that both the
inflammation and swelling are gone; and nothing remains but the
wound in my finger, which will heal as soon as all the chalk is
discharged.  My surgeon wishes me to take the air; but I am so
afraid of a relapse, that I have not yet consented.

My poor old friend is a great loss;(564) but it did not much
Surprise me, and the manner comforts me.  I had played at cards
with her at Mrs. Gostling's three nights before I came to town,
and found her extremely confused, and not knowing what she did:
indeed, I perceived something Of the sort before, and had found
her much broken this autumn.  It seems, that the day after I saw
her, she went to General Lister's burial and got cold, and had
been ill for two or three days.  On the Wednesday morning she
rose to have her bed made; and while sitting on the bed, with her
maid by her, sunk down at once, and died without a pang or a
groan.  Poor Mr. Raftor is struck to the greatest degree, and for
some days would not see any body.  I sent for him to town to me;
but he will not come till next week.  Mrs. Prado has been so
excessively humane as to insist on his coming to her house till
his sister is buried, which is to be to-night.

The Duchess does not come till the 26th.  Poor Miss Bunbury is
dead; and Mrs. Boughton, I hear, is in a very bad way.  Lord John
Russell has sent the Duchess of Bedford word, that he is on the
point of marrying Lord Torrington's eldest daughter; and they
suppose the wedding is over.(565)  Your ladyship, I am sure, will
be pleased to hear that Lord Euston is gone to his father, who
has written a letter with the highest approbation of Lady
Euston.(566)  You will be diverted, too, Madam, to hear that
Hecate has told Mrs. Keppel, that she was sure that such virtue
would be rewarded at last.

(562) Now first printed.

(563) "Neither years nor sufferings," writes Hannah More to her
sister, "can abate the entertaining powers of the pleasant
Horace, which rather improve than decay; though he himself says
he is only fit to be a milk-woman, as the chalk-stones at his
fingers' ends qualify him for nothing but scoring; but he
declares he will not be a Bristol milk.woman.  I was obliged to
recount to him all that odious tale." Memoirs, vol. ii. p. 14.-E.

(564) The incomparable Kitty Clive; who died at Twickenham on the
6th of December, in her seventy-second year.-E.


(565) Lord John Russell, who, in 1802, succeeded his brother
Francis as sixth Duke of Bedford, married, at Brussels, in March
1786, Georgiana Elizabeth, second daughter of Lord Torrington.-E.

(566) Lord Euston, who, in 1811, succeeded his father as fourth
Duke of Grafton, married, in November 1784, Charlotte Maria,
daughter of the Earl of Waldegrave.-E.



Letter 300 To Miss Hannah More.
Berkeley Square, Feb. 9, 1786. (page 380)

It is very cruel, my dear Madam, when you send me such charming
lines, and say such kind and flattering things to me and of me,
that I cannot even thank you with my own poor hand; and yet my
hand is as much obliged to you as my eye, and ear, and
understanding.  My hand was in great pain when your present
arrived.  I opened it directly, and set to reading, till your
music and my own vanity composed a quieting draught that glided
to the ends of my fingers, and lulled the throbs into the
deliquium that attends opium when it does not put one absolutely
to sleep.  I don't believe that the deity who formerly practised
both poetry and physic, when gods got their livelihood by more
than one profession, ever gave a recipe in rhyme; and therefore,
since Dr. Johnson has prohibited application to pagan divinities,
and Mr. Burke has not struck medicine and poetry out of the list
of sinecures, I wish you may get a patent for life for exercising
both faculties.  It would be a comfortable event for me for,
since I cannot wait on you to thank you, nor dare ask you

----to call your doves yourself,

and visit me in your Parnassian quality, I might send for you as
my physicianess.  Yet why should I not ask you to come and see
me? You are not such a prude as to

----blush to show compassion,

though it should

not chance this year to be the fashion,(567)

And I can tell you, that powerful as your poetry is, and old as I
am, I believe a visit from you would do me as much good almost as
your verses.(568)  In the meantime, I beg you to accept of an
addition to your Strawberry editions; and believe me to be, with
the greatest gratitude, your too much honoured, and most obliged
humble servant.

See "Florio," a poetical tale, which Miss Hannah More had
recently published with the "Bas Bleu."-E.

(568) on the 11th, Hannah More paid him a visit.  "I made poor
Vesey," she says, "go with me on Saturday to see Mr. Walpole, who
has had a long illness.  Notwithstanding his sufferings, I never
found him so pleasant, so witty, and so entertaining.  He said a
thousand diverting things about 'Florio;' but accused me of
having imposed on the world by a dedication full of falsehood;
meaning the compliment to himself: I never knew a man suffer pain
with such entire patience.  This submission is certainly a most
valuable part of religion; and yet, alas! he is not religious.  I
must however, do him the justice to say, that, except the delight
he has in teasing me for what he calls over-strictness, I never
heard a sentence from him which savoured of infidelity." Memoirs,
vol. ii, p. 11.-E.



Letter 301 To The Hon. H. S. Conway.
Sunday night, June 18, 1786. (page 301)

I suppose you have been swearing at the east wind for parching
your verdure, and are now weeping for the rain that drowns your
hay.  I have these calamities in common, and my constant and
particular one,-people that come to see my house, which
unfortunately is more in request than ever.  Already I have had
twenty-eight sets, have five more tickets given out; and
yesterday, before I had dined, three German barons came.  My
house is a torment, not a comfort!

I was sent for again to dine at Gunnersbury on Friday, and was
forced to send to town for a dress-coat and a sword.  There were
the Prince of Wales, the Prince of Mecklenburg, the Duke of
Portland, Lord Clanbrassil, Lord and Lady Clermont, Lord and Lady
Southampton, Lord Pelham, and Mrs. Howe.  The Prince of
Mecklenburg went back to Windsor after coffee; and the Prince and
Lord and Lady Clermont to town after tea, to hear some new French
players at Lady William Gordon's.  The Princess, Lady Barrymore,
and the rest of us, played three pools at commerce till ten.  I
am afraid I was tired and gaped.  While we were at the dairy, the
Princess insisted on my making some verses on Gunnersbury.  I
pleaded being superannuated.  She would not excuse me.  I
promised she should have an ode on her next birthday, which
diverted the Prince; but all would not do.  So, as I came home, I
made the following stanzas, and sent them to her breakfast next
morning:--

In deathless odes for ever green
Augustus' laurels blow;
Nor e'er was grateful duty seen
In warmer strains to flow.

Oh! why is Flaccus not alive,
Your favourite scene to sing?
To Gunnersbury's charms could give
His lyre immortal spring.

As warm as his my zeal for you,
Great princess! could I show it;
But though you have a Horace too--
Ah, Madam! he's no poet.

If they are poor verses, consider I am sixty-nine, was half
asleep, and made them almost extempore-and by command! However,
they succeeded, and I received this gracious answer:--

" I wish I had a name that could answer your pretty verses.  Your
yawning yesterday opened your vein for pleasing me; and I return
you my thanks, my good Mr. Walpole, and remain sincerely your
friend, Amelia."

I think this very genteel at seventy-five.


Do you know that I have bought the Jupiter Serapis as well as the
Julio Clovio!(569)  Mr. * * * * assures me he has seen six of the
head, and not one of them so fine, or so well preserved.  I am
glad Sir Joshua Reynolds saw no more excellence in the Jupiter
than in the Clovio; or the Duke of Portland, I suppose, would
have purchased it, as he has the vase for a thousand pounds.  I
would not change.  I told Sir William Hamilton and the late
Duchess, when I never thought it would be mine, that I had rather
have the head than the vase.- I shall long for Mrs. Damer to make
a bust to it, and then it will be still more valuable.  I have
deposited both the Illumination(570) and the Jupiter in Lady
Di.'s cabinet,(571) which is worthy of them.  And here my
collection winds up; I will not purchase trumpery after such
jewels.  Besides, every thing is much dearer in old age, as one
has less time to enjoy.  Good night!

(569) At the sale Of the Duchess-dowager of Portland.

(570) The Book of Psalms, with twenty-one illuminations, by Don
Julio Clovio, scholar of Julio Romano-E.

(571) A cabinet at Strawberry Hill, built in 1776, to receive
seven incomparable drawings of Lady Diana Beauclere, for
Walpole's tragedy of "The Mysterious Mother."-E.



Letter 302 To Richard Gough, Esq.
Berkeley Square, June 21, 1786. (page 383)

On coming to town yesterday upon business, I found, Sir, your
very magnificent and most valuable present,(572) for which I beg
you will accept my most grateful thanks.  I am impatient to
return to Twickenham, to read it tranquilly.  As yet I have only
had time to turn the prints over, and to read the preface; but I
see already that it is both a noble and laborious work, and -will
do great honour both to you and to your country.  Yet one
apprehension it has given me-I fear not living to see the second
part!  Yet I shall presume to keep it Unbound; not only till it
is perfectly dry and secure, but, as I mean the binding should be
as fine as it deserves, I should be afraid of not having both
volumes exactly alike.

Your partiality, I doubt, Sir, has induced you to insert a paper
not so worthy of the public regard as the rest of your splendid
performance.  My letter to Mr. Cole,(573) which I am sure I had
utterly forgotten .to have ever written, was a hasty indigested
sketch, like the rest of my scribblings, and never calculated to
lead such well-meditated and accurate works as yours.  Having
lived familiarly with Mr. Cole, from our boyhood, I used to write
to him carelessly on the occasions that occurred.  As it was
always on subjects of' no importance, I never thought of
enjoining secrecy.  I could not foresee that such idle
Communications would find a place in a great national work, or I
should have been more attentive to 'what I said.  Your taste,
Sir, I fear, has for once been misled; and I shall be sorry for
having innocently blemished a single page.  Since your partiality
(for such it certainly was) has gone so far, I flatter myself you
will have retained enough to accept, not a retribution, but a
trifling mark of my regard, in the little volume that accompanies
this; in which you will find that another too favourable reader
has bestowed on me more distinction than I could procure for
myself, by turning my slight Essay on Gardening(574) into the
pure French of the last age;(575) and, which is wonderful, has
not debased Milton by French poetry: on the contrary, I think
Milton has given a dignity to French poetry--nay, and harmony;
both which I thought that language almost incapable of receiving.
As I would wish to give all the value I can to my offering, I
Will mention, that I have printed but four hundred copies, half
of which went to France; and as this is an age in which mere
rarities are preferred to commoner things of intrinsic worth,-as
I have found by the ridiculous prices given for some of my
insignificant publications, merely because they are scarce,-I
hope, under the title of a kind of curiosity, my thin piece will
be admitted into your library.  If you would indulge me so far,
Sir, as to let me know when I might hope to see the second part,
I would calculate how many more fits of the gout I may weather,
and would be still more strict in my regimen.  I hope, at least,
that you will not wait for the engravers, but will accomplish the
text for the sake of the world: in this I speak disinterestedly.
Though you are much younger than I am, I would have your part of
the work secure - engravers may always proceed, or be found;
another author cannot.

(572) The first volume of Mr. Gough's "Sepulchral Monuments in
Great Britain."-E.

(573) See vol. iii., Aug. 12, 1769, letter 366.-E.

(574) The author of "The Pursuits of Literature",--

"Well pleased to see
Walpole and Nature may, for once, agree,"

adds, in a note, "read (it well deserves the attention) that
quaint, but most curious and learned writer's excellent Essay on
Modern Gardening."-E.

(575) Besides Walpole's Essay on Modern Gardening, the Duc do
Nivernois translated Pope's Essay on Man, and a portion of
Milton's Paradise Lost, into French verse.-E.



Letter 303 To The Earl Of Strafford.
Strawberry Hill, August 29, 1786. (page 384)

Since I received the honour of your lordship's last, I have been
at Park-place for a few days.  Lord and Lady Frederick Campbell
and Mrs. Damer were there.  We went on the Thames to see the new
bridge at Henley, and Mrs. Damer's colossal masks.  There is not
a sight in the island more worthy of being visited.  The bridge
is as perfect as if bridges were natural productions, and as
beautiful as if it had been built"for Wentworth Castle; and the
masks, as if the Romans had left them here.  We saw them in a
fortunate moment; for the rest of the time was very cold and
uncomfortable, and the evenings as chill as many we have had
lately.  In short, I am come to think that the beginning of an
old ditty, which passes for a collection of blunders, was really
an old English pastoral, it is so descriptive of our climate:

"Three children sliding on the ice
All on a summer's day----"

I have been overwhelmed more than ever by visitants to my house.
Yesterday I had Count Oginski,(576) who was a pretender to the
crown of Poland at the last election, and has been stripped of
most of a vast estate.  He had on a ring of the new King of
Prussia, or I should have wished him joy on the death Of One of
the plunderers of his country.(577)

It has long been my opinion that the out-pensioners of Bedlam are
so numerous, that the shortest and cheapest way would be to
confine in Moorfields the few that remain in their senses, who
would then be safe; and let the rest go at large.  They are the
out-pensioners who are for destroying poor dogs!  The whole
canine race never did half so much mischief as Lord George
Gordon; nor even worry hares, but when hallooed on by men.  As it
is a persecution of animals, I do not love hunting; and what old
writers mention as a commendation makes me hate it the more, its
being an image of war.  Mercy on us! that destruction of any
species should be a sport or a merit!  What cruel unreflecting
imps we are!  Every body is unwilling to die; yet sacrifices the
lives of others to momentary -pastime, or to the still emptier
vapour, fame! A hero or a sportsman who wishes for longer life is
desirous of prolonging devastation.  We shall be crammed, I
suppose, with panegyrics and epitaphs on the King of Prussia; I
am content that he can now have an epitaph.  But, alas! the
Emperor will write one for him probably in blood!  and, while he
shuts up convents for the sake of population, will be stuffing
hospitals .With maimed soldiers, besides making thousands of
widows!

I have just been reading a new published history of the Colleges
in Oxford, by Anthony Wood; and there found a feature in a
character that always offended me, that of Archbishop Chicheley,
who prompted Henry the Fifth to the invasion of France, to divert
him from squeezing the overgrown clergy.  When that priest
meditated founding All Souls, and "consulted his friends (who
seem to have been honest men) what great matter of piety he had
best perform to God in his old age, he was advised by them to
build an hospital for the wounded and sick soldiers that daily
returned from the wars then had in France;"-I doubt his grace's
friends thought as I do of his artifice "but," continues the
historian, "disliking those motions, and valuing the welfare of
the deceased more than the wounded and diseased, he resolved with
himself to promote his design, which was, to have masses said for
the King, Queen, and himself, etc.  while living, and for their
souls when dead." And that mummery the old foolish rogue thought
more efficacious than ointments and medicines for the wretches he
had made! And of the chaplains and clerks he instituted in that
dormitory, one was to teach grammars and another prick-song.  How
history makes one shudder and laugh by turns!  But I fear I have
wearied your lordship with my idle declamation, and you will
repent having commanded me to send you more letters.

(576) Father of Count Michel Oginski, the associate
of Kosciusko, and author of "Memoires sur la Pologne et les
Polonais, depuis 1788 jusqu'`a la fin de 1815;" in four volumes
octavo. Paris, 1826.-E.

(577) Frederick the Great had died on the 17th, at Berlin.-E.



Letter 304 To The Hon. H. S. Conway.
Strawberry Hill, Oct. 29, 1786. (page 386)

I was sorry not to be apprised of your intention of going to
town, where I would have met you; but I knew it too late, both as
I was engaged, and as you was to return so soon.  I mean to come
to Park-place in a week or fortnight: but I should like to know
what company you expect, or do not expect; for I had rather fill
up your vacancies than be a supernumerary.  Lady Ossory has sent
me two charades made by Colonel Fitzpatrick: the first she says
is very easy, the second very difficult.  I have not come within
sight of the easy one; and, though I have a guess at the other, I
do not believe I am right; and so I send them to you, who are
master-general of the Oedipuses.

The first, that is so easy:--

"In concert, song, or serenade,
My first requires my second's aid.
To those residing near the pole
I would not recommend my whole."

The two last lines, I conclude, neither connect with the two
first, nor will help one to deciphering them.

The difficult one:--

"Charades of all things are the worst,
But my best have been my first.
Who with my second are concern'd,
Will to despise my whole have learn'd."

This sounds like a good one, and therefore I will not tell you my
solution; for, if it is wrong, it might lead you astray; and if
it is right, it would prove the charade is not a good one.  Had I
any thing better, I would not send you charades, unless for the
name of the author.

I have had a letter from your brother, who tells me that he has
his grandson Stewart(578) with him, who is a prodigy.  I say to
myself, Prodigies are grown so frequent,
That they have lost their name.
I have seen prodigies in plenty of late, ah, and formerly too;
but, divine as they have all been, each has had a mortal heel,
and has trodden back a vast deal of their celestial path 1 1 beg
to be excused from any more credulity.

I am sorry you have lost your fac-totum Stokes.  I suppose he had
discovered that he was too necessary to you.  Every day cures one
of reliance on others; And we acquire a prodigious stock of
experience, by the time that we shall cease to have occasion for
any.  Well! I am not clear but making or solving charades is as
wise as any thing we can do.  I should pardon professed
philosophers if they would allow that their wisdom is only
trifling, instead of calling their trifling wisdom.  Adieu!

(578) Robert, eldest son of Robert Stewart, by Lady Sarah-Frances
Seymour, second daughter of Francis, first Marquis of Hertford;
afterwards so distinguished in the Political world as Viscount
Castlereagh.  In 1821, he succeeded his father as second Marquis
of Londonderry, and died at his seat at North Cray, in August,
1822; at which time he was secretary of state for foreign
affairs.-E.



Letter 305 To The Right Hon. Lady Craven.(579)
Berkeley Square, Nov. 27, 1786. (page 387)

To my extreme surprise, Madam, when I knew not in what quarter of
the known or unknown world you was resident or existent, my maid
in Berkeley-square sent me to Strawberry-hill a note from your
ladyship, offering to call on me for a moment,-for a whirlwind, I
suppose, was waiting at your door to carry you to Japan; and, as
balloons have not yet settled any post-offices in the air, you
could not, at least did not, give me any direction where to
address you, though you did kindly reproach me with my silence.
I must enter into a little justification before I proceed.  I
heard from you from Venice, then from Poland, and then, having
whisked through Tartary, from Petersburgh; but still with no
directions.  I said to myself, "I will write to Grand Cairo,
which, probably, will be her next stage." Nor was I totally in
the wrong, for there came a letter from Constantinople, with a
design mentioned of going to the Greek islands, and orders to
write to you at Vienna; but with no banker or other address
specified.

For a great while I had even stronger reasons than these for
silence.  For several months I was disabled by the gout from
holding a pen; and you must know, Madam, that one can't write
when one cannot write.  Then, how write to la Fianc`ee du Roi de
Garbe?  You had been in the tent of the Cham of Tartary, and in
the harem of the Captain Pacha, and, during your navigation of
the AEgean, were possibly fallen into the terrible power of a
corsair.  How could I suppose that so many despotic infidels
would part with your charms?  I never expected you again on
Christian ground.  I did not doubt your having a talisman to make
people in love with you; but antitalismans are quite a new
specific.

Well, while I was in this quandary, I received a delightful
drawing Of the Castle of Otranto; but still provokingly without
any address.  However, my gratitude for so very agreeable.  and
obliging a present could not rest till I found you out.  I wrote
to the Duchess of Richmond, to beg, she would ask your brother
Captain Berkeley for a direction to you; and he has this very day
been so good as to send me one, and I do not lose a moment in
making use of it.

I give your ladyship a million of thanks for the drawing, which
was really a very valuable gift to me.  I did not even know that
there was a Castle of Otranto.  When the story was finished, I
looked into the map of the kingdom of Naples for a well-sounding
name, and that of Otranto was very sonorous.  Nay, but the
drawing is so satisfactory, that there are two small windows, one
over another, and looking into the country, that suit exactly to
the small chambers from one of which Matilda heard the young
peasant singing beneath her.  Judge how welcome this must be to
the author; and thence judge, Madam, how much you must have
obliged him.

When you take another flight towards the bounds of the western
ocean, remember to leave a direction.  One cannot always shoot
flying.  Lord Chesterfield directed a letter to the late Lord
Pembroke, who was always swimming, "To the Earl of Pembroke in
the Thames, over against Whitehall."  That was sure of finding
him within a certain number of fathom; but your ladyship's
longitude varies so rapidly, that one must be a good bowler
indeed, to take one's ground so judiciously that by casting wide
of the mark one may come in near to the jack.

(579) This celebrated lady was the daughter of Augustus, fourth
Earl of Berkeley.  In 1767, she was married to William, who, in
1769, succeeded his uncle as sixth Lord Craven: she had seven
children by him; but, after a union of thirteen years, a
separation taking place, she left England for France, and
travelled in Italy, Austria, Poland, Russia, Turkey, and Greece.
In 1789, she published her "Journey through the Crimea to
England." Subsequently, she settled at Anspach, and, becoming a
widow in September, 1791, was united in the following month to
the Margrave of Anspach; who, having sold his principality to the
King of Prussia, settled in England; where he died in 1806.  In
1825, the Margravine published her Memoirs, She died at Naples in
1828-E.



Letter 306 To Miss Hannah More.
Berkeley Square, Jan. 1, 1787. (page 388)

Do not imagine, dear Madam, that I pretend in the most distant
manner to pay you for charming poetry with insipid prose; much
less that I acquit a debt of gratitude for flattering kindness
and friendship, by a meagre tale that does not even aim at
celebrating you.  No; I have but two motives for offering you the
accompanying trifle;(580) the first, to prove that the moment I
have finished any thing you are of the earliest in my thoughts:
the second, that, Coming from my press, I wish it may be added to
your Strawberry editions.  It is so far from being designed for
the public, that I have printed but forty copies; which I do not
mention to raise its value, though it will with mere collectors,
but lest you should lend it and lose it, when I may not be able
to supply its place.

 Christina, indeed, has some title to connexion with you, both
from her learning and her moral writings; as you are justly
entitled to a lodging in her "C it`e des Dames," where I am sure
her three patronesses would place you, as a favourite `el`eve of
some of their still more amiable sisters, who must at this moment
be condoling With their unfortunate sister Gratitude, whose
vagabond foundling has so basely disgraced her and herself.  You
fancied that Mrs. Yearsley was a spurious issue of a muse; and to
be sure, with all their immortal virginity, the parish of
Parnassus has been sadly charged with their bantlings; and, as
nobody knows the fathers, no wonder some of the misses have
turned out woful reprobates!

(580) Christine de Pise.



Letter 307 To The Right Hon. Lady Craven.
Berkeley Square, Jan. 2, 1787. (page 389)

Your ladyship tells me, that you have kept a journal of your
travels: you know not when your friends at Paris will give you
time to put it au net; that is, I conclude and hope, prepare it
for the press.  I do not wonder that those friends, whether
talismanic or others, are so assiduous, if you indulge them -
but, unless they are of the former description, they are
unpardonable, if they know what they interrupt; and deserve much
more that you should wish they had fallen into a ditch, than the
poor gentlemen who sigh more to see you in sheets of holland than
of paper.  To me the mischief is enormous.  How proud I should be
to register a noble authoress of my own country, who has
travelled over more regions and farther than any female in print!
Your ladyship has visited those islands and shores whence
formerly issued those travelling sages and legislators who sought
and imported wisdom, laws, and religion into Greece; and though
we are so perfect as to want none Of those commodities, the fame
of those philosophers is certainly diminished when a fair lady
has gone so far in quest of knowledge.  You have gone in an age
when travels are brought to a juster standard, by narrations
being limited to truth.  Formerly the performers of the longest
voyages destroyed half the merit of their expeditions by
relating, not what they had, but had not seen; a sort of
communication that they might have imparted without stirring a
foot from home.  Such exaggerations drew discredit on travels,
till people would not believe that there existed in other
countries any thing very different from- what they saw in their
own; and because no Patagonians, or gentry seven or eight feet
high, were really discovered, they would not believe that there
were Laplanders or pigmies of three and four.  Incredulity went
so far, that at last it Was doubted whether China so much as
existed; and our countryman Sir John Mandeville(581) got an ill
name, because, though he gave an account of it, he had not
brought back its right name:(582) at least
if I do not mistake, this was the case; but it is long since I
read any thing about the matter, and I am willing to begin my
travels again under your ladyship's auspices.  I am sorry to
hear, Madam, that by your account Lady Mary Wortley was not so
accurate and faithful as modern travellers.  The invaluable art
of inoculation, which she brought from Constantinople, so dear to
all admirers of beauty, and to which we owe, perhaps, the
preservation of yours, stamps her an universal benefactress; and
as you rival her in poetic talents, I had rather you would employ
them to celebrate her for her nostrum, than detect her for
romancing.  However, genuine accounts of the interior of
seraglios would be precious; and I was in hopes would become the
greater rarities, as I flattered myself that your friends the
Empress of Russia and
 the Emperor were determined to level Ottoman tyranny.  His
Imperial Majesty, who has demolished the prison bars of so many
nunneries, would perform a stilt more Christian act in setting
free so many useless sultanas; and her Czarish Majesty, I trust,
would be as great a benefactress to our sex, by ,abolishing The
barbarous practice that reduces us to be of none.  Your
ladyship's indefatigable peregrinations should have such great
objects in view, when you have the ear of sovereigns.

Peter the Hermit conjured up the first crusadoes against the
infidels by running about from monarch to monarch.  Lady Craven
should ,be as zealous and as renowned; and every fair Circassian
would acknowledge, that one English lady had repaid their country
for the secret which another had given to Europe from their
practice.

(581) As an instance of the monstrous exaggerations of this
ancient Munchausen, take the following:--"I am a liar if I have
not seen in Java, a single shell in which three men might
completely hide themselves, and all white!"  He also states
himself to have met with whole nations of giants, twenty-fie feet
high; and of pigmies, as many inches.-E.

(582) In a conversation with Mr. Windham, Dr. Johnson, a few days
before his death, recommended, for an account of China, Sir John
Mandeville's Travels." See Boswell's Johnson, vol. ix. p. 317,
ed. 1835.-E.



Letter 308 To Miss Hannah More.
Berkeley Square, Feb. 8, 1787. (page 390)

Dear madam,
I not only send you "La Cit`e des Dames," but Christina's Life of
Charles the Fifth, which will entertain you more; and which, when
I wrote my brief history of her, I did not know she had actually
composed.  Mr. Dutens told me of it very lately, and actually
borrowed it for me; and but yesterday my French bookseller sent
me three-and-twenty other volumes of those M`emoires
Historiques,(583) which I had ordered him to get for me, and
which will keep my eyes to the oar for some time, whenever I have
leisure to sail through such an ocean; and yet I shall embark
with pleasure, late as it is for me to undertake such a hugeous
voyage: but a crew of old gossips are no improper company, and we
shall sit in a warm cabin, and hear and tell old stories of past
times.

Pray keep the volume as long as you please, and borrow as many
more as you please, for each volume is a detached piece.  Yet I
do not suppose your friends will allow you much time for reading;
and I hope I shall often be the better for their hindering
you.(584) Yours most sincerely.

(583) "Collection des meilleurs Ouvrages Francais compos`es par
des Femmes." by Mademoiselle Keralio.

(584) Miss More, in a letter written a few days after, says--"Mr.
Walpole is remarkably well: yesterday he sent me a very agreeable
letter, with some very thick volumes of curious French M`emoires,
desiring me, if I like them, to send for the other twenty-three
volumes; a pretty light undertaking, in this mad town and this
sort of life." memoirs, vol. ii. p. 49.-E.



Letter 309 To The Rev. Henry Zouch.(585)
Berkeley Square, March 13, 1787. (page 391)

It is very true, Sir, as Lord Strafford told you, that I have
taken care that letters of living persons to me shall be restored
to the writers when I die.  I have burnt a great many, and, as
you desire it, would do so by yours; but, having received a like
intimation some time ago, I put yours into a separate paper, with
a particular direction that they should be delivered to you: and,
therefore, I imagine it will be more satisfaction to you, as it
will be to me too, that you should receive them yourself; and
therefore if you please to let me know how I shall convey them, I
will bring them from Strawberry Hill, where they are, the first
time I go thither.  I hope you enjoy your health, and I have the
honour to be, Sir, etc.

(585) Now first printed.



Letter 310 To Miss Hannah More.(596)
Strawberry Hill, June 15, 1787. (page 391)

In your note, on going out of town, you desired me to remember
you; but as I do not like the mere servile merit of obedience, I
took time, my dear Madam, to try to forget you; and, having
failed as to my wish, I have the free-born pleasure of thinking
of you in spite of my teeth, and without any regard to your
injunction.  No queen upon earth, as fond as royal persons are of
their prerogative, but would prefer being loved for herself
rather than for her power; and I hope you have not more majesty

"Than the whole race of queens!"

Perhaps the spirit of your command did not mean that I should
give you such manual proof of' my remembrance; and you may not
know what to make of a subject who avows a mutinous spirit, and
at the same time exceeds the measure of his duty.  It is, I own,
a kind of Irish loyalty; and, to keep up the Irish character, I
will confess that I never was disposed to be so loyal to any
sovereign that was not a subject.  if you collect from all this
galai-Datias that I am cordially your humble servant, I shall be
content.  The Irish have the best hearts in the three kingdoms,
and they never blunder more than when they attempt to express
their zeal and affection: the reason, I suppose, is, that cool
sense never thinks of attempting impossibilities; but a warm
heart feels itself ready to do more than is possible for those it
loves.  I am sure our poor friend in Clarges-street(597) would
subscribe to this last sentence.  What English heart ever
excelled hers? I should have almost said equalled, if I were not
writing to one that rivals her.

The last time I saw her before I left London, Miss Burney(598)
passed the evening there, looking quite recovered and well, and
so cheerful and agreeable, that the court seems only to have
improved the ease of her manner, instead of stamping more reserve
on it, as I feared: but what slight graces it can give, will not
compensate to us and the world for the loss of her company and
her writings.  Not but that some young ladies who can write, can
stifle their talent as much as if they were under lock and key in
the royal library.  I do not see but a cottage is as pernicious
to genius as the Queen's waiting-room.  Why should one remember
people that forget themselves?  Oh! I am sorry I used that
expression, as it is commonly applied to such self-oblivion as
Mrs. -; and light and darkness are not more opposite than the
forgetfulness to which I alluded, and hers.  The former
forgetfulness can forget its own powers and the injuries of
others; the latter can forget its own defects, and the
obligations and services it has received.  How poor is that
language which has not distinct terms for modesty and virtue, and
for excess of vanity and ingratitude! The Arabic tongue, I
suppose, has specific words for all the shades of oblivion,
which, you see, has its extremes.  I think I have heard that
there are some score of different terms for a lion in Arabic,
each expressive of a different quality; and consequently its
generosity and its appetite for blood are not confounded in one
general word.  but if an Arabian vocabulary were as numerous in
proportion for all the qualities that can enter into a human
composition, it would be more difficult to be learned therein,
than to master all the characters of the Chinese.

You did me the honour of asking me for my "Castle of Otranto,"
for your library at Cowslip Green.  May I, as a printer, rather
than as an author, beg leave to furnish part of a shelf there?
and as I must fetch some of the books from Strawberry Hill, will
you wait till I can send them all together?  And will you be so
good as to tell me whither I shall send them, or how direct and
convey them to you at Bristol? I shall have a satisfaction in
thinking that they will remain in your rising cottage (in which,
I hope, you will enjoy a long series of happy hours); and that
they will sometimes, when they and I shall be forgotten in other
places, recall to Miss More's memory her very sincere humble
servant.

(596) Now first collected.

(597) In a letter to Walpole, written at this time from Cowslip
Green, Miss More says, "When I sit in a little hermitage I have
built in my garden,-not to be melancholy in, but to think upon my
friends, and to read their works and letters,-Mr. Walpole
seldomer presents himself to my mind as the man of wit than as
the tender-hearted and humane friend of my dear infirm,
broken-spirited Mrs. Vesey.  One only admires talents, and
admiration is a cold sentiment, with which affection has commonly
nothing to do; but one does more than admire them when they are
devoted to such gentle purposes.  My very heart is softened when
I consider that she is now out of the way of your kind
attentions' and I fear that nothing else on earth gives her the
smallest pleasure." Memoirs, VOL ii, p. 72-E.

(598) This highly-gifted young lady had, in the preceding year,
been appointed keeper of the robes to the Queen.-E.



Letter 311 To The Hon. H. S. Conway.
Strawberry Hill, June 17, 1787. (page 393)

I have very little to tell you since we met but disappointments,
and those of no great consequence.  On Friday night Lady Pembroke
wrote to me that Princess Lubomirski was to dine with her the
next day, and desired to come in the morning to see Strawberry.
Well, my castle put on its robes, breakfast was prepared, and I
shoved another company out of the house, who had a ticket for
seeing it.  The sun shone, my hay was cocked, we looked divinely;
and at half an hour after two, nobody came but a servant to Lady
Pembroke, to say her Polish altitude had sent her word she had
another engagement in town that would keep her too late:-so Lady
Pembroke's dinner was addled; and we had nothing to do, but, like
good Christians, if we chose it, to compel every body on the
road, whether they chose it or not, to come in and eat our soup
and biscuits.  Methinks this liberum veto was rather impertinent,
and I begin to think that the partition of Poland was very right.

Your brother has sent me a card for a ball on Monday, but I have
excused myself.  I have not yet compassed the whole circuit of my
own garden, and I have had an inflammation in one of my eyes, and
don't think I look as well as my house and my verdure; and had
rather see my haycocks, than the Duchess of Polignac and Madame
Lubomirski.  "The Way to Keep Him" had the way to get me, and I
could crawl to it because I had an inclination; but I have a
great command of myself when I have no mind to do any thing.
Lady Constant was worth an hundred ars and irskis.  Let me hear
of you when you have nothing else to do; though I suppose you
have as little to tell as you see I had.



Letter 312 To The Earl Of Strafford.
Strawberry Hill, July 28, 1787. (page 394)

St. Swithun is no friend to correspondence, my dear lord.  There
is not only a great sameness in his own proceedings, but he makes
every body else dull-I mean in the country, where one frets at
its raining every day and all day.  In town he is no more minded
than the proclamation against vice and immorality.  Still, though
he has all the honours of the quarantine, I believe it often
rained for forty days long before St. Swithun was born, if ever
born he was; and the proverb was coined and put under his
patronage, because people observed that it frequently does rain
for forty days together at this season.  I remember Lady Suffolk
telling me, that Lord Dysart's great meadow had never been mowed
but once in forty years without rain.  I said, "All that that
proved was, that rain was good for hay," as I am persuaded the
climate of a country and its productions are suited to each
other.  Nay, rain is good for haymakers too, who get more
employment the oftener the hay is made over again.  I do not know
who is the saint that presides over thunder; but he has made an
unusual quantity in this chill summer, and done a great deal of
serious mischief, though not a fiftieth part of what Lord George
Gordon did seven years ago, and happily he is fled.

Our little part of the world has been quiet as usual.  The Duke
of Queensberry has given a sumptuous dinner to the Princess de
Lamballe(599)--et voil`a tout.  I never saw her, not even in
France.  I have no particular penchant for sterling princes and
princesses, much less for those of French plate.

The only entertaining thing I can tell your lordship from our
district is, that old Madam French, who lives close by the bridge
at Hampton-court, where, between her and the Thames, she had
nothing but one grass-plot of the width of her house, has paved
that whole plot with black and white marble in diamonds, exactly
like the floor of a church; and this curious metamorphosis of a
garden into a pavement has cost her three hundred and forty
pounds:-a tarpaulin she might have had for some shillings, which
would have looked as well, and might easily have been removed.
To be sure, this exploit, and Lord Dudley's obelisk below a
hedge, with his canal at right angles with the Thames, and a sham
bridge no broader than that of a violin, and parallel to the
river, are not preferable to the monsters in clipt yews of our
ancestors;

Bad taste expellas fursa tamen usque recurret.

On the contrary, Mrs. Walsingham is making her house at Ditton
(now baptized Boyle-farm) very orthodox.  Her daughter Miss
Boyle(600) who has real genius, has carved three tablets in
marble with buoys, designed by herself.  Those sculptures are for
a chimney-piece; and she is painting panels in grotesque for the
library, with pilasters of glass in black and gold.  Miss Crewe,
who has taste too, has decorated a room for her mother's house at
Richmond, which was Lady Margaret Compton's in a very pretty
manner.  How much more amiable the old women of the next age will
be, than most of those we remember, who used to tumble at once
from gallantry to devout scandal and cards! and revenge on the
young of their own sex the desertion of ours.  Now they are
ingenious, they will not want amusement.  Adieu, my dear lord!

(599) Sister to the Prince de Carignan, of the royal house of
Sardinia, and wife of the Prince de Lamballe, only son to the Duc
de Penthi`evre.  She was sur-intendante de la maison de la Reine,
and, from her attachment to Marie Antoinette, was one of the
first females who fell a victim to the fury of the French
revolution.  The peculiar circumstances of horror which attended
her death, and the indignities offered to her remains, are in the
memory of every one who has read the accounts of that
heart.rending event.-E.

(600) Afterwards married to Lord Henry Fitzgerald.



Letter 313 To Miss Hannah More.
Strawberry Hill, Oct. 14, 1787. (page 395)

My dear Madam,
I am shocked for human nature at the repeated malevolence of this
woman!(601)  The rank soil of riches we are accustomed to see
overrun with weeds and thistles; but who could expect that the
kindest seeds sown on poverty and dire misfortunes should meet
with nothing but a rock at bottom?  Catherine de' Medici, suckled
by popes.  and transplanted to a throne, seems more excusable.
Thank heaven, Madam, for giving you so excellent a heart; ay, and
so good a head.  You are not only benevolence itself: but, with
fifty times the genius of a Yearsley, you are void of vanity.
How strange that vanity should expel gratitude! Does not the
wretched woman owe her fame to you, as well as her affluence? I
can testify your labours for both.  Dame Yearsley reminds me of
the Troubadours, those vagrants whom I used to admire till I knew
their history; and who used to pour out trumpery verses, and
flatter or abuse accordingly as they were housed and clothed, or
dismissed to the next parish.  Yet you did not set this person in
the stocks, after procuring an annuity for her! I beg your pardon
for renewing so disgusting a subject, and will never mention it
again.  You have better amusement; you love good works, a temper
superior to revenge.(602)

I have again seen our poor friend in Clarges-street: her
faculties decay rapidly, and of course she suffers less.  She has
not an acquaintance in town; and yet told me the town was very
full, and that she had had a good deal of company.  Her health is
re-established, and we must now be content that her mind is not
restless.  My pity now feels most for Mrs. Hancock,(603) whose
patience is inexhaustible, though not insensible.

Mrs. Piozzi, I hear, has two volumes of Dr. Johnson's Letters
ready for publication.(604)  Bruce is printing his Travels; which
I suppose will prove that his narratives were fabulous, as he
will scarce repeat them by the press.  These and two more volumes
of Mr. Gibbon's History, are all the literary news I know.
France seems sunk indeed in all respects.  What stuff are their
theatrical goods, their Richards, Ninas, and Tarares!  But when
their Figaro could run threescore nights, how despicable must
their taste be grown!(605)  I rejoice that the political
intrigues are not more creditable.  I do not dislike the French
from the vulgar antipathy between neighbouring nations, but for
their insolent and unfounded airs of superiority.  In arms we
have almost always outshone them: and till they have excelled
Newton, and come near to Shakspeare, pre-eminence in genius must
remain with us.  I think they are most entitled to triumph over
the Italians; as, with the most meagre and inharmonious of all
languages, the French have made more of that poverty in tragedy
and eloquence, than the Italians have done with the language the
most capable of both.  But I did not mean to send you a
dissertation.  I hope it will not be long before you remove to
Hampton.--Yet why should I wish that'! You will only be
geographically nearer to London till February.  Cannot you now
and then sleep at the Adelphi on a visit to poor Vesey and your
friends, and let one know if you do?

(601) Walpole had recently received a letter from Miss More, in
which she had said--"MY old friend the milk-woman has just
brought out another book, to which she has prefixed my original
preface to her first book, and twenty pages of the scurrility
published against me in her second.  To all this she has added
the deed which I got drawn up by an eminent lawyer to secure her
money in the funds, and which she asserts I made Mrs. Montagu
sign without reading." Memoirs, vol. ii. p. 80.

(602) Mrs. Yearsley was a woman of strong masculine
understanding, and of a powerful independent mind, which could
not brook any thing in the nature of dictation or interference.
Whether she then was a widow, or separated from her husband, I
know not; but, in 1793, she kept a bookseller and stationer's
shop, under the name of Ann Yearsley, at Bristol Hot-wells,
assisted by her son, and there all sorts of literary discussion
used to take place daily amongst those who frequented it; and
Mrs. Yearsley being somewhat free, both in her political and
religious opinions, as well as not a little indignant at Mrs.
More's attempt at holding a control over her proceedings, it is
not matter of wonder, that a very unreasonable asperity should
have been exhibited on both sides.-G.

(603) "What a blessing for Mrs. Vesey, that Mrs. Hancock is alive
and well! I do venerate that woman beyond words; her faithful,
quiet, patient attachment makes all showy qualities and shining
talents appear little in my eyes.  Such characters are what Mr.
Burke calls I the soft quiet green, on which the soul loves to
rest!"' Hannah More's Memoirs, vol. ii. p. 80.-E.

(604) In speaking of these Letters, which appeared shortly after,
Hannah More says--:They are such as ought to have been written,
but ought not to have been printed: a few of them are very good:
sometimes he is moral, and sometimes he is kind.  The imprudence
of editors and executors is an additional reason why men of parts
should be afraid to die. Burke said to me the other day, in
allusion to the innumerable lives, anecdotes, remains, etc.  of
this great man, 'How many maggots have crawled out of that great
body!'" Memoirs, vol. ii-P. 101-E.

(605) Mr. Walpole had never seen Figaro acted, nor had he been at
Paris for many years before it appeared: he was not, therefore,
aware of the bold, witty, and continued allusions of almost every
scene and of almost every incident of that comedy, to the most
popular topics and the most distinguished characters of the day.
The freedom with which it treated arbitrary government and all
its establishments, while they all yet continued in unwelcome
force- in France, and the moral conduct of each individual of the
piece exactly suiting the no-morality of the audience, joined to
the admirable manner in which it was acted, certainly must be
allowed to have given it its greatest vogue.  But even now, when
most of these temporary advantages no longer exist, whoever was
well acquainted with the manners, habits, and anecdotes of Paris
at the time of the first appearance of Figaro, will always admire
in it a combination of keen and pointed satire, easy wit, and
laughable incident.-B.



Letter 314 To The Hon. H. S. Conway.
Berkeley Square, Nov. 11, 1787. (page 397)

>From violent contrary winds,(606) and by your letter going to
Strawberry Hill, whence I was 'come, I have but just received it,
and perhaps shall Only be able to answer it by snatches, being up
to the chin in nephews and nieces.

I find you knew nothing of the pacification when you wrote, When
I saw your letter, I hoped it would tell me you was coming back,
as your island is as safe as if it was situated in the Pacific
Ocean, or at least as islands there used to be, till Sir Joseph
Banks chose to put them up.  I sent you the good news on the very
day before you wrote, though I imagined you would learn it by
earlier intelligence.  Well, I enjoy both your safety and your
great success, which is enhanced by its being owing to your
character and abilities.  I hope the latter will be allowed to
operate by those who have not quite so much of either.  I shall
be wonderful glad to see little Master Stonehenge(607) at Park-
place; it will look in character there: but your own bridge is so
stupendous in comparison, that hereafter the latter will be
thought to have been a work of the Romans.  Dr. Stukeley will
burst his cerements to offer mistletoe in your temple; and Mason,
on the contrary, will die of vexation and spite that he cannot
have Caractacus acted on the spot.  Peace to all such!

--But were there one whose fires
True genius kindles, and fair fame inspires,

he would immortalize you, for all you have been carrying on in
Jersey, and for all you shall carry off.  Inigo Jones, or
Charlton,- or somebody, I forget who, called Stonehenge "Chorea
Gigantum:" this will be the chorea of the pigmies; and, as I
forget too what is Latin for Lilliputians, I will make a bad pun,
and say,

----Portantur avari
Pygmalionis opes.--

Pygmalion is as well-sounding a name for such a monarch as
Oberon.  Pray do not disappoint me, but transport the
cathedral(608) of your island to your domain on our continent.  I
figure unborn antiquaries making pilgrimages to visit your
bridge, your daughter's bridge,(609) and the Druidic temple; and
if I were not too old to have any imagination left, I would add a
sequel to Mi Li.(610)  Adieu!

(606) Mr. Conway was at this time at his government in Jersey.

(607) Mr. Walpole thus calls the small Druidic temple discovered
in Jersey, which the States of that island had presented to
General Conway, to be transported to and erected at Park-place.
Dr. Walter Charlton published a dissertation on Stonehenge in
1663, entitled "Chorea Gigantum."  it was reprinted in 1715.-E.


(608) The Druidic temple.

(609) The keystones of the centre arch of the bridge at Henley
are ornamented with heads of the Thames and Isis, designed by the
Hon.  Mrs. Damer, and executed by her in Portland stone.

(610) One of the Hieroglyphic tales, containing a description of
Park-place.  it will be found in Walpole's works.



Letter 315 To Thomas Barrett, Esq.(611)
Berkeley Square, June 5, 1788. (page 398)

I wish I could charge myself with any merit, which I always wish
to have towards you, dear Sir, in letting Mr. Matthew see
Strawberry; but in truth he has so much merit and modesty and
taste himself, that I gave him the ticket with pleasure, which it
seldom happens to me to do; for most of those who go thither, go
because it is the fashion, and because a party is a prevailing
custom too; and my tranquillity is disturbed, because nobody
likes to stay at home.  If Mr. Matthew was really entertained I
am glad; but Mr. Wyatt has made him too correct a Goth not to
have seen all the imperfections and bad execution of my attempts;
for neither Mr. Bentley nor my workmen had studied the science,
and I was always too desultory and impatient to consider that I
should please myself more by allowing time, than by hurrying my
plans into execution before they were ripe.  My house therefore
is but a sketch by beginners, yours is finished by a great
master; and if Mr. Matthew liked mine, it was en virtuose, who
loves the dawnings of an art, or the glimmerings of its
restoration.

I finished Mr. Gibbon a full fortnight ago, and was extremely
pleased.  It is a most wonderful mass of information, not only of
history, but almost on all the ingredients of history, as war,
government, commerce, coin, and what not.  If it has a fault, it
is in embracing too much, and consequently in not detailing
enough, and it, striding backwards and forwards from one set of
princes to another, and from one subject to another; so that,
without much historic knowledge, and without much memory, and
much method in one's memory, it is almost impossible not to be
sometimes bewildered: nay, his own impatience to tell what he
knows, makes the author, though commonly so explicit, not
perfectly clear in his expressions.  The last chapter of the
fourth Volume, I own, made me recoil, and I could scarcely push
through it.  So far from being Catholic or heretic, I wished Mr.
Gibbon had never heard of Monophysites, Nestorians, or any such
fools! But the sixth volume made ample amends; Mahomet and the
Popes were gentlemen and good company.  I abominate fractions of
theology and reformation.

Mr. Sheridan, I hear, did not quite satisfy the passionate
expectation that had been raised;(612) but it was impossible he
could, when people had worked themselves into an enthusiasm of
offering fifty, ay, fifty guineas for a ticket to hear him.
Well! we are sunk and deplorable in many points, yet not
absolutely gone, when history and eloquence throw out such
shoots!  I thought I had outlived my country; I am glad not to
leave it desperate.  Adieu, dear Sir!

(611) OF Lee, in East Kent; Whose seat was built by Mr. Wyatt,
and greatly admired by Walpole.-E.

(612) Of his speech in Westminster-hall, on bringing forward the
Begum charge against Mr. Hastings; upon which Mr. Burke
pronounced the high ealogium, that "all the various species of
oratory that had been heard, either in ancient or modern
times-whatever the acuteness of the bar, the dignity of the
senate, or the morality of the pulpit; could furnish--had not
been equal to what the House had that day heard."  Gibbon, who
was present, thus describes it, in a letter to Lord Sheffield:--
"Yesterday the august scene was closed for this year. Sheridan
surpassed himself; and, though I am far from considering him a
perfect orator, there were many beautiful passages in his speech-
-on justice, filial love, etc.; one of the closest chains of
argument I ever heard, to prove that Hastings was responsible for
the acts of Middleton; and a compliment, much admired to a
certain historian of your acquaintance.  Sheridan, on the close
of his speech, sunk into Burke's arms--a good actor: but I called
this morning; he is perfectly well."-E.



Letter 316 To The Earl Of Strafford.
Strawberry Hill, Tuesday night, June 17, 1788. (page 399)

I guess, my dear lord, and only guess, that you are arrived at
Wentworth Castle.  If you are not, my letter will lose none of
its bloom by waiting for you; for I have nothing fresh to tell
you, and only write because you enjoined it.  I settled in my
Lilliputian towers but this morning.  I wish people would come
into the country on May-day, and fix in town on the first of
November.  But as they will not, I have made up my mind; and
having so little time left, I prefer London, when my friends and
society are in it, to living here alone, or with the weird
sisters of Richmond and Hampton.  I had additional reason now,
for the streets are as green as the fields: we are burnt to the
bone, and have not a lock of bay to cover our nakedness: oats are
so dear, that I suppose they will soon be eaten at Brooks's and
fashionable tables as a rarity.  The drought has lasted so long,
that for this fortnight I have been foretelling haymaking and
winter, which June generally produces; but to-day is sultry, and
I am not a prophet worth a straw.  Though not resident till now,
I have flitted backwards and forwards, and last Friday came
hither to look for a minute at a ball at Mrs. Walsingham's at
Ditton which would have been pretty, for she had stuck coloured
lamps in the hair of all her trees and bushes, if the east wind
had not danced a reel all the time by the side of the river.  Mr.
Conway's play,(613) of which your lordship has seen some account
in the papers, has succeeded delightfully, both in representation
and applause.  The language is most genteel, though translated
from verse; and both prologue and epilogue are charming.  The
former was delivered most Justly and admirably by Lord Derby, and
the latter with inimitable spirit and grace by Mrs. Damer.  Mr.
Merry and Mrs. Bruce played excellently too.  But General Conway,
Mrs. Damer, and every body else are drowned by Mr. Sheridan,
whose renown has engrossed all Fame's tongues and trumpets.  Lord
Townshend said he should be sorry were he forced to give a vote
directly on Hastings, before he had time to cool; and one of the
peers saying the speech had not made the same impression on him,
the Marquis replied, a seal might be finely cut, and yet not be
in fault for making a bad impression.

I have, you see, been forced to send your lordship what scraps I
brought from town: the next four months, I doubt will reduce me
to my old sterility; for I cannot retail French gazettes, though
as a good Englishman bound to hope they will contain a civil war.
I care still less about the double imperial campaign, only hoping
that the poor dear Turks will heartily beat both Emperor and
Empress.  If the first Ottomans could be punished, they deserved
it, but present possessors have as good a prescription 'on their
side as any People in Europe.  We ourselves are Saxons, Danes,
Normans; our neighbours are Franks, not Gauls; who the rest are,
Goths, Gepidae, Heruli, Mr. Gibbon knows; and the Dutch usurped
the estates of herrings, turbots, and other marine indigenae.
Still, though I do not wish the hair of a Turk's beard to be
hurt, I do not say that it would not be amusing to have
Constantinople taken, merely as a lusty event; for neither could
I live to see Athens revive, nor have I much faith in two such
bloody-minded vultures, cock and hen, as Catherine and Joseph,
conquering for the benefit of humanity; nor does my Christianity
admire the propagation of the Gospel by the mouth of cannon.
What desolation of peasants and their families by the episodes of
forage and quarters!  Oh! I wish Catherine and Joseph were
brought to Westminster-hall and worried by Sheridan!  I hope,
too, that the poor Begums are alive to hear of his speech; it
will be some comfort, though I doubt nobody thinks of restoring
them a quarter of a lac!

(613) A comedy, called "False Appearances" translated from
L'Homme du Jour of Boissy.  It was first acted at the private
theatre at Richmond.house, and afterwards at Drury-lane.-E.



Letter 317 To Miss Hannah More.
Strawberry Hill, July 4, 1788. (page 401)

I am soundly rejoiced, my dear Madam, that the present summer is
more favourable to me than the last: , and that, instead of not
answering my letters in three months, you open the campaign.  May
not I flatter myself' that it is a symptom of your being in
better health?  I wish, however, you had told me so in positive
words, and that all your complaints have left you.  Welcome as is
your letter, it would have been ten times more welcome bringing
me that assurance; for don't think I forget how ill you was last
winter.  As letters, you say, now keep their coaches, I hope
those from Bristol will call often at my door.(614)  I promise
you I will never be denied to them.

No botanist am I; nor wished to learn from you, of all the Muses,
that piping has a new signification.  I had rather that you
handled an oaten pipe than a carnation one; yet setting layers, I
own, is preferable to reading newspapers, one of the chronical
maladies of this age.  Every body reads them, nay quotes them,
though every body knows they are stuffed with lies or blunders.
How should it be otherwise? If any extraordinary event happens,
who but must hear it before it descends through a coffee-house to
the runner of a daily paper? They who are always wanting news,
are wanting to hear they don't know what.  A lower species,
indeed, is that of the scribes you mention, who every night
compose a journal for the satisfaction of such illiterati, and
feed them with all the vices and misfortunes of every private
family; nay, they now call it a duty to publish all those
calamities which decency to wretched relations used in compassion
to suppress, I mean self-murder in particular.  Mr. -Is was
detailed at length; and to-day that of Lord - and -.  The
pretence is, in terrorem, like the absurd stake and highway of
our ancestors; as if there were a precautionary potion for
madness, or the stigma of a newspaper were more dreadful than
death.  Daily journalists, to be sure, are most respectable
magistrates!  Yes, much like the cobblers that Cromwell made
peers.

I do lament your not going to Mr. Conway's play: both the author
and actors deserved such an auditor as you, and you deserved to
hear them.  However, I do not pity good people who out of virtue
lose or miss any pleasures.  Those pastimes fleet as fast as
those of the wicked; but when gone, you saints can sit down and
feast on your self-denial, and drink bumpers of satisfaction to
the health of your own merit.  So truly I don't pity you.

You say you hear no news, yet you quote Mr. Topham;(615)
therefore why should I tell you that the King is going to
Cheltenham?  Or that the Baccelli lately danced at the opera at
Paris with a blue bandeau on her forehead, inscribed, "Honi soit
qui mal y pense." Now who can doubt but she is as pure as the
Countess of Salisbury!  Was not it ingenious?  and was not the
ambassador so to allow it? No doubt he took it for a compliment
to his own knee.

Well! would we committed nothing but follies! What do we not
commit when the abolition of slavery hitches!  Adieu!

Though Cato died, though Tully spoke,
Though Brutus dealt the godlike stroke,
Yet perish'd fated Rome.

You have written; and I fear that even if Mr. Sheridan speaks,
trade, the modern religion, will predominate.  Adieu!

(614) Miss More, in her last letter, had said--"Mail-coaches,
which come to others, come not to me: letters and newspapers, now
that they travel In coaches, like gentlemen and ladies, come not
within ten miles of my hermitage: and while other fortunate
provincials are studying the world and its ways, and are feasting
upon elopement, divorces, and suicides, tricked out in all the
elegancies of Mr. Topham's phraseology, I am obliged to be
contented with village vices, petty iniquities, and vulgar sins,"
Memoirs, vol. ii. p. 77.-E.

(615) Major Topham was the proprietor of the fashionable morning
paper entitled The World.  "In this paper," says Mr. Gifford, in
his preface to the Baviad, "were given the earliest specimens of
those unqualified and audacious attacks on all private character,
and which the town first smiled at for their quaintness then
tolerated for their absurdity; now--that other papers equally
wicked and more intelligible, have ventured to imitate it--will
have to lament to the last hour of British liberty."  In 1791,
Major Topham published the Life of John Elwes the miser; which
Walpole considered one of the most amusing anecdotical books in
the English language.-E.

(616) While the Duke of Dorset, who kept her was ambassador at
Paris.  The Countess of Salisbury, to the fall OF whose garter
has been attributed the foundation of the order of the Garter.



Letter 318 To Miss Hannah More.
Strawberry Hill, July 12, 1788. (page 402)

Won't you repent of having opened the correspondence, my dear
Madam, when you find my letters come so thick upon you? In this
instance, however, I am only to blame in part, for being too
ready to take advice, for the sole reason for which advice ever
is taken, 'because it fell in with my inclination.  You said in
your last that you feared you took up time of mine to the
prejudice of the public; implying, I imagine, that I might employ
it in composing.  Waving both your compliment, and my own vanity,
I will speak very seriously to you on that subject, and with
exact truth.  My simple writings have had better fortune than
they had any reason to expect; and I fairly believe, in a great
degree, because gentlemen-writers, who do not write for interest,
are treated with some civility if they do not write absolute
nonsense.  I think so, because I have not unfrequently known much
better works than mine much more neglected, if the name, fortune,
and situation of the authors were below mine.  I wrote early,
from youth, spirits, and vanity; and from both the last when the
first no longer existed.  I now shudder when I reflect on my own
boldness; and with mortification, when I compare my own writings
with those of any great authors.  This is So true, that I
question"Whether it would be possible for me to summon up courage
to publish any thing I have written, if I could recall the past,
and should yet think as I think at present.  So much for what is
over and out of my power.  As to writing now, I have totally
forsworn the profession, for two solid reasons.  One I have
already told you; and it is, that I know my own writings are
trifling and of no depth.  The other is, that, light and futile
as they were, I am sensible they are better than I could compose
now.  I am aware of the decay of the middling parts I had, and
others may be still more sensible of it.  How do I know but I am
superannuated? nobody will be so coarse as to tell me so; but if
I published dotage all the world would tell me so.  And who but
runs that risk who is an author after severity?  What happened to
the greatest author of this age, and who certainly retained a
very considerable portion of his abilities for ten years after my
age Voltaire, at eighty-four, I think, Went to Paris to receive
the incense, in person, of his countrymen, and to be witness of
their admiration of a tragedy he had written at that Methusalem
age.  Incense he did receive till it choked him; and at the
exhibition of his play he was actually crowned with laurel in the
box where he sat.  But what became of his poor play? It died as
soon as he did--was buried with him; and no mortal, I dare to
say, has ever read a line of it since, it was so bad.(617)

As I am neither by a thousandth part so great, nor a quarter so
little, I will herewith send you a fragment that an accidental
rencontre set me upon writing,, and which I found so flat, that I
would not finish it.  Don't believe that I am either begging
praise by the stale artifice of' hoping to be contradicted; or
that I think there is any occasion to make you discover my
caducity.  No; but the fragment contains a curiosity--English
verses written by a French prince of the blood, and which at
first I had a mind to add to my Royal and Noble Authors, but as
he was not a royal author of ours, and as I could not please
myself with an account of him, I shall revert to my old
resolution of not exposing my pen's gray hairs.(618)

Of one passage I must  take notice; it is a little indirect sneer
at our crowd of authoresses.  My choosing to send this to you is
a proof that I think you an author, that is, a classic.  But in
truth I am nauseated by the Madams Piozzi, etc.  and the host of
novel-writers in petticoats, who think they imitate what is
inimitable, Evelina and Cecilia.  Your candour I know will not
agree with me, when I tell you I am not at all charmed with Miss
Seward and Mr. Hayley piping to one another: but you I exhort,
and would encourage to write; and flatter myself you will never
be royally gagged and promoted to fold Muslins, as has been
lately wittily said on Miss Burney, in the list of five hundred
living authors.  Your writings promote virtues; and their
increasing editions prove their worth and utility.  If you
question my sincerity, can you doubt my admiring you, when you
have gratified my self-love so amply in your Bas Bleu?  Still, as
much as I love your writings, I respect yet more your heart and
your goodness.  You are so good, that I believe you would go to
heaven, even though there were no Sunday, and only six working
days in the week.  Adieu, my best Madam!

(617) Madame du Deffand, in a letter to Walpole of the 8th of
March 1778, says--"Voltaire se Porte bien: il est uniquement
occup`e de sa tragedie d'Ir`ene; on assure qu'on la jouera de
demain en huit: si elle n'a pas de succ`es, il en mourra." On the
18th, she again writes--"Le succ`es de la pi`ece a `et`e tr`es
mediocre; il y eut cependant beaucouP de claquemens de mains,
mais C'`etait Plus Voltaire qui en `etait l'objet que la Pi`ece."
He died in the May following.-E.

(618) The French prince of the blood here spoken of, was Charles
Duke of Orleans, who being a prisoner at the battle of Agincourt,
was brought to England and detained here for twenty.five years.
For a copy of the verses, see Walpole's works, vol. i. p. 564.-E.



Letter 319 To The Earl Of Strafford.
Strawberry Hill, August 2, 1788. (page 404)

Matter for a letter, alas! my dear lord, I have none; but about
letters I have great news to tell your lordship, only may the
goddess of post-offices grant it be true! A Miss Sayer, of
Richmond, who is at Paris, writes to Mrs. Boscawen, that a Baron
de ]a Garde (I am sorry there are so many as in the genealogy of
my story.) has found in a vieille armoire five hundred more
letters of Madame de S`evign`e, and that they will be printed if
the expense is not too great.  I am in a taking, lest they should
not appear before I set out for the Elysian fields for, though
the writer is one of the first personages I should inquire after
on my arrival, I question whether St. Peter has taste enough to
know where she lodges, she is more likely to be acquainted with
St. Catherine of Sienna and St. Undecimillia; and therefore I had
rather see the letters themselves.  It is true I have no small
doubt of the authenticity of the legend; and nothing will
persuade me of its truth so much as the non-appearance of the
letters-a melancholy kind of conviction.  But I vehemently
suspect some new coinage, like the letters of Ninon de l'Enclos,
Pope Ganganelli, and the Princess Palatine.  I have lately been
reading some fragments of letters of the Duchess of Orleans,
which are certainly genuine, and contain some curious
circumstances; for though she was a simple gossiping old
gentlewoman, yet many little facts she could not help learning:
and, to give her her due, she was ready to tell all she knew.  To
our late Queen she certainly did write often; and her Majesty,
then only Princess, was full as ready to pay her in her own coin,
and a pretty considerable treaty of commerce for the exchange of
scandal was faithfully executed between them; insomuch that I
remember to have heard forty years ago, that our gracious
sovereign entrusted her Royal Highness of Orleans with an
intrigue of one of her women of the bedchamber.  Mrs. Selwyn to
wit; and the good Duchess entrusted it to so many other dear
friends that at last it got into the Utrecht Gazette, and came
over hither, to the signal edification of the court of Leicester-
fields.  This is an additional reason, besides the internal
evidence, for my believing the letters genuine.  This old dame
was mother of the Regent; and when she died, somebody wrote on
her tomb, Cy gist l'Oisivet`e.  This came over too; and nobody
could expound It, till our then third Princess, Caroline,
unravelled it,--Idleness is the mother of all vice.

I wish well enough to posterity to hope that dowager highnesses
will Imitate the practice, and write all the trifles that occupy
their royal brains; for the world so at least learns some true
history, which their husbands never divulge, especially if they
are privy to their own history, which their ministers keep from
them as much as possible.  I do not believe the present King of
France knows much more of what he, or rather his Queen, is
actually doing, than I do.  I rather pity him; for I believe he
means well, which is not a common article of my faith.

I shall go about the end of this week to Park-place, where I
expect to find the Druidic temple from Jersey erected.  How dull
will the world be, if constant pilgrimages are not made thither!
where, besides the delight of the scenes, that temple, the rude
great arch, Lady Ailesbury's needle-works, and Mrs. Damer's
Thames and Isis on Henley-bridge, with other of her sculptures,
make it one of the most curious spots in the island, and unique.
I want to have Mr. Conway's comedy acted there; and then the
father, mother, and daughter would exhibit a theatre of arts as
uncommon.  How I regret your lordship did not hear Mrs. Damer
speak the epilogue!



Letter 320To John Pinkerton, Esq.(619)
Arlington Street, Aug. 14, 1788. (page 405)

Your intelligence of the jubilees to be celebrated in Scotland in
honour of the Revolution was welcomed indeed.  It is a favourable
symptom of an age when its festivals are founded on good sense
and liberality of sentiment, and not to perpetuate superstition
and slavery.  Your countrymen, Sir, have proved their good sense
too in their choice of a poet.  Your writings breathe the noble
generous spirit congenial to the institution.  Give me leave to
say that it is very flattering to me to have the ode communicated
to me; I will not say, to be consulted, for of that distinction I
am not worthy: I am not a poet, and am Sure I cannot improve your
ideas, which you have expressed with propriety and clearness, the
necessary ingredients of an address to a populous meeting; for I
doubt our numerous audiences are not arrived at Olympic taste
enough to seize with enthusiasm the eccentric flights of Pindar.
You have taken a more rational road to inspiration,'-by adhering
to the genuine topics of the occasion; and you speak in so manly
a Style, that I do not believe a more competent judge could amend
your poetry.

I will tell you how more than occasionally the mention of Pindar
slipped into my pen.  I have frequently, and even yesterday,
wished that some attempt were made to ennoble our horse-races,
particularly at Newmarket, by associating better arts with the
courses; as, by contributing for odes, the best of which should
be rewarded by medals.  Our nobility would find their vanity
gratified; for, as the pedigrees of their steeds would soon grow
tiresome, their own genealogies would replace them; and, in the
mean time, poetry and medals would be improved.  Their lordships
would have judgment enough to know if their horse (which should
be the impression on one side) were not well executed; and, as I
hold that there is no being more difficult to draw well than a
horse, no bad artist could be employed.  Such a beginning would
lead farther; and the cup or plate for the prize might rise into
beautiful vases.  But this is a vision; and I may as well go to
bed and dream of any thing else.

(619) Now first collected.



Letter 321 To Miss Hannah More.(620)
Strawberry Hill, August 17, 1788. (page 406)

Dear Madam,
In this great discovery of a new mine of Madame de S`evign`e's
letters, my faith, I confess, is not quite firm.  Do people sell
houses wholesale, without opening their cupboards?  This age,
too, deals so much in false coinage, that booksellers and
Birmingham give equal vent to what is not sterling; with the only
difference, that the shillings of the latter pretend that the
names are effaced, while the wares Of the former pass under
borrowed names.  Have we not seen, besides all the Testamens
Politiques, the spurious letters of Ninon de l'Enclos, of Pope
Ganganelli, and the Memoirs of the Princess Palatine? This is a
little mortifying, while we know that there actually exists at
Naples a whole library of genuine Greek and Latin authors; most
of whom probably, have never been in print: and where it is not
unnatural to suppose the work of some classics, yet lost, may be
in being, and the remainder of some of the best.  Yet, at the
'rate in which they proceed to unroll, it would take as many
centuries to bring them to light, as have elapsed since they were
overwhelmed.  Nay, another eruption of Vesuvius may return all
the volumes to chaos! Omar is stigmatized for burning the library
of Alexandria.  Is the King of Naples less a Turk?  IS not it
almost as unconscientious to keep a seraglio of virgin authors
under the custody of nurses, as of blooming Circassians?
Consider, my dear Madam, I am past seventy; or I should not be SO
Ungallant as to make the smallest comparison between the contents
of the two harems.  Your picture, which hangs near my elbow,
would frown, I am sure, if I had any light meaning.

(620) Now first collected.



Letter 322 To The Earl Of Strafford.
Strawberry Hill, Sept. 12, 1788. (page 407)

My late fit of gout, though very short, was a very authentic one,
my dear lord, and the third I have had since Christmas.  Still,
of late years, I have suffered so little pain, that I can justly
complain of nothing but the confinement, and the debility of my
hands and feet, which, however, I can still use to a certain
degree; and as I enjoy such good spirits and health in the
intervals, I look upon the gout as no enemy; yet I know it is
like the compacts said to be made with the devil, (no kind
comparison to a friend!) who showers his favours on the
Contractors, but is sure to seize and carry them off at last.

I would not say so much of myself, but in return to your
lordship's obliging concern for me: Yet, insignificant as the
subject, I have no better in bank; and if I plume myself on the
tolerable state of my out-ward man, I doubt your lordship finds
that age does not treat my interior so mildly as the gout does
the other.  If my letters, as you are pleased to say, used to
amuse you, you must perceive how insipid they are grown, both
from my decays and the little intercourse I have with the world.
Nay, I take care not to aim at false vivacity: what do the
attempts of age at liveliness prove but its weakness?  What the
Spectator said wittily, ought to be practised in sober sadness by
old folks: when he was dull, he declared it was by design.  So
far, to be sure, we ought to observe it, as not to affect more
spirits than we possess.  To be purposely stupid, would be
forbidding our correspondents to continue the intercourse; and I
am so happy in enjoying the honour of your lordship's friendship,
that I will be content (if you can be so) with my natural
inanity, without studying to increment it.

I have been at Park-place, and assure your lordship that the
Druidic temple vastly more than answers my expectation.  Small it
is, no doubt, when you are within the enclosure, and but a chapel
of ease to Stonehenge; but Mr. Conway has placed it with so much
judgment, that it has a lofty effect, and infinitely more than it
could have had if he had yielded to Mrs. Damer's and my opinion,
who earnestly begged to have it placed within the enclosure of
the home grounds.  It now stands on the ridge of the high hill
without, backed by the horizon, and with a grove on each side at
a little distance; and, being exalted beyond and above the range
of firs that climb up the sides of the hill from the valley,
wears all the appearance of an ancient castle, whose towers are
only shattered, not destroyed; and devout as I am to old castles,
and small taste as I have for the ruins of ages absolutely
barbarous, it is impossible not to be pleased with so very rare
an antiquity so absolutely perfect, and it is difficult to
prevent visionary ideas from improving a prospect.

If, as Lady Anne Conolly told your lordship, I have had a great
deal of company, you must understand it of my house, not of me;
for I have very little.  Indeed, last Monday both my house and I
were included.  The Duke of York sent me word the night before,
that he would come and see it, and of course I had the honour of
showing it myself.  He said, and indeed it seemed so, that he was
much pleased; at least, I had every reason to be satisfied; for I
never saw any prince more gracious and obliging, nor heard one
utter more personally kind speeches.

I do not find that her grace the Countess of Bristol's(621) will
is really known yet.  They talk of two wills--to be sure, in her
double capacity; and they say she has made three coheiresses to
her jewels, the Empress of Russia, Lady Salisbury, and the whore
of Babylon.(622)  The first of those legatees, I am not sorry, is
in a piteous scrape: I like the King of Sweden no better than I
do her and the Emperor; but it is good that two destroyers should
be punished by a third, and that two crocodiles should be gnawed
by an insect.  Thank God! we are not only at peace, but in full
plenty--nay, and in full beauty too.  Still better; though we
have had rivers of rain, it has not, contrary to all precedent,
washed away our warm weather.  September, a month I generally
dislike for its irresolute mixture of warm and cold, has hitherto
been peremptorily fine.  The apple and walnut-trees bend down
with fruit, as in a poetic description of Paradise.

(621) The Duchess of Kingston, who died at Paris in August.-E.

(622) The newspapers had circulated a report that the Duchess had
bequeathed her diamonds to the Empress of Russia and his Holiness
the Pope.-E.



Letter 323 To Miss Hannah More.
Strawberry Hill, Sept. 22, 1788. (page 408)

I don't like to defraud you of your compassion, my good friend,
profuse as you are of it.  I really suffered scarce any pain at
all from my last fit of gout.  I have known several persons who
think there is a dignity in complaining; and, if you ask how they
do, reply, "Why, I am pretty well to-day; but if you knew what I
suffered yesterday!" Now methinks nobody has a right to tax
another for pity on what is past; and besides, complaint of what
is over can only make the hearer glad you are in pain no longer.
Yes, yes, my dear Madam, you generally place your pity so
profitably, that YOU shall not waste a drop upon me, who ought
rather to be congratulated on being so well at my age.

Much less shall I allow you to make apologies for your admirable
and proper conduct towards your Poor prot`eg`ee(623) And now you
have told me the behaviour of a certain great dame, I will
confess to you that I have known it some months by accident-nay,
and tried to repair it.  I prevailed on Lady * * * * *, who as
readily undertook the commission, and told the Countess of her
treatment of you.  Alas! the answer was, "It is too late; I have
no money." No! but she has, if she has a diamond left.  I am
indignant; yet, do you know, not at this duchess, or that
countess, but at the invention of ranks, and titles, and
pre-eminence.  I used to hate that king and t'other prince; but,
alas! on reflection I find the censure ought to fall on human
nature in general.  They are made of the same stuff as we, and
dare we say what we should be in their situation? Poor creatures!
think how they are educated, or rather corrupted, early, how
flattered! To be educated properly, they should be led through
hovels, and hospitals, and prisons.  Instead of being reprimanded
(and perhaps immediately after sugar-plum'd) for not learning
their Latin or French grammar, they now and then should be kept
fasting; and, if they cut their finger, should have no plaister
till it festered.  No part of a royal brat's memory, which is
good enough, should be burthened but with the remembrance of
human sufferings.  In short, I fear our nature is so liable to be
corrupted and perverted by greatness, rank, power, and wealth,
that I am inclined to think that virtue is the compensation to
the poor for the want of riches: nay, I am disposed to believe
that the first footpad or highwayman has been a man of quality,
or a prince, who could not bear having wasted his fortune, and
was too lazy to work; for a beggar-born would think labour a more
natural way of getting a livelihood than venturing his life.  I
have something a similar opinion about common women.  No modest
girl thinks of many men, till she has been in love with one, been
ruined by him, and abandoned.  But to return to my theme, and it
will fall heavy on yourself.  Could the milkwoman have been so
bad, if you had merely kept her from starving, instead of giving
her opulence? The soil, I doubt, was bad; but it could not have
produced the rank weed of ingratitude, if you had not dunged it
with gold, which rises from rock, and seems to meet with a
congenial bed when it falls on the human heart.

And so Dr. Warton imagines I m writing "Walpoliana!" No, in
truth, nor any thing else; nor shall-nor will I go out in a
jest-book.  Age has not only made me prudent, but, luckily, lazy;
and, without the latter extinguisher, I do not know but that
farthing candle my discretion would let my snuff of life flit to
the last sparkle of folly, like what children call.  the parson
and clerk in a bit of burnt paper.  You see by my writability in
pressing my letters on you, that my pen has still a colt's tooth
left, but I never indulge the poor old child with more paper than
this small-sized sheet, I do not give it enough to make a paper
kite and fly abroad on wings of booksellers.  You ought to
continue writing, for you do good your writings, or at least mean
it; and if a virtuous intention fails, it is a sort of coin,
which, though thrown away, still makes the donor worth more than
he was before he gave it away.  I delight too in the temperature
of your piety, and that you would not see the enthusiastic
exorcist.  How shocking to suppose that the Omnipotent Creator of
worlds delegates his power to a momentary insect to eject
supernatural spirits that he had permitted to infest another
insect, and had permitted to vomit blasphemies against himself!
Pray do not call that enthusiasm, but delirium.  I pity real
enthusiasts, but I would shave their heads and take away some
blood.  The exorcist's associates are in a worse predicament, I
doubt, and hope to make enthusiasts.  If such abominable
impostors were not rather a subject of indignation, I could smile
at the rivalship between them and the animal magnetists, who are
inveigling fools into their different pales.  And alas! while
folly has a shilling left, there will be enthusiasts and quack
doctors; and there will be slaves while there are kings or
sugar-planters.(624)  I have remarked, that though Jesuits, etc.
travel to distant East and West to propagate their religion and
traffic, I never heard of one that made a journey into Asia or
Africa to preach the doctrines of liberty, though those regions
are so deplorably oppressed.  Nay, I much doubt whether ever any
chaplain of the regiments we have sent to India has once
whispered to a native of Bengal, that there are milder forms of
government than those of his country.  No; security of property
is not a wholesome doctrine to be inculcated in a land where the
soil produces diamonds and gold! In short, if your Bristol
exorcist believes he can cast out devils, why does he not go to
Leadenhallstreet?  There is a company whose name is legion.

By your gambols, as you call them, after the most ungambolling
peeress in Christendom, and by your jaunts, I conclude, to my
great satisfaction, that you are quite well.  Change of scene and
air are good for your spirits; and September, like all our old
ladies, has given itself May airs, and must have made your
journey very pleasant.  Yet you will be glad to get back to your
Cowslip-green, though it may offer you nothing but Michaelmas
daisies.  When you do leave it, I wish you could persuade Mrs.
Garrick to settle sooner in London.  There is full as good hay to
be made in town at Christmas at Hampton, and some hay-makers that
will wish for you particularly.  Your most sincere friend.

(623) Ann Yearsley.  See ant`e, p. 395, letter 313.-E.

(624) In the letter to which this is a reply, Miss More had
said-- "in vain do we boast of the enlightened eighteenth
century, and conceitedly talk as if human reason had not a
manacle left about her, but that philosophy had broken down all
the strongholds of prejudice, ignorance, and superstition: and
yet at this very time Mesmer has got an hundred thousand pounds
by animal magnetism in Paris, and Mainanduc is getting as much in
London.  There is a fortune-teller in Westminster who is making
little less. Lavater's Physiognomy-books sell at fifteen guineas
a set.  The divining-rod is still considered as oracular in many
places.  Devils are cast out by seven ministers; and, to complete
the disgraceful catalogue, slavery is vindicated in print, and
defended in the House of Peers." Memoirs, vol. ii. P. 120.-E.



Letter 324 To The Right Hon. Lady Craven.
Berkeley Square, Dec. 11, 1788. (page 411)

It is agreeable to your ladyship's usual goodness to honour me
with another letter; and I may say, to your equity too, after I
had proved to Monsieur Mercier, by the list of dates of my
letters, that it was not mine, but the post's fault, that you did
not receive one that I had the honour of writing to you above a
year ago.  Not, Madam, that I could wonder if you had the
prudence to drop a correspondence with an old superannuated man;
who, conscious of his decay, has had the decency of not
troubling, with his dotages persons of not near your ladyship's
youth and vivacity.  I have been of opinion that few persons know
when to die; I am not so English as to mean when to despatch
themselves--no, but when to go out of the world.  I have usually
applied this opinion to those who have made a considerable
figure; and, consequently, it was not adapted to myself.  Yet
even we ciphers ought not to fatigue the public scene when we are
become lumber.  Thus, being quite out of the question, I will
explain my maxim, which is the more wholesome, the higher it is
addressed.  My opinion,
then, is, that when any personage has shone as much as is
possible in his or her best walk, (and, not to repeat both
genders every minute, I will use the male as the common of the
two,) he should take up his Strulbrugism, and be heard of no
more.  Instances will be still more explanatory.  Voltaire ought
to have pretended to die after Alzire, Mahomet, and Semiramis,
and not have produced his wretched last pieces: Lord Chatham
should have closed his political career with his immortal war:
and how weak was Garrick, when he had quitted the stage, to limp
after the tatters of fame by writing and reading pitiful poems;
and even by sitting to read plays which he had acted with such
fire and energy! We have another example in Mr. Anstey; who, if
he had a friend upon earth, would have been obliged to him for
being knocked on the head, the moment he had published the first
edition of the Bath Guide; for, even in the second, he had
exhausted his whole stock of inspiration, and has never written
any thing tolerable since.  When Such unequal authors print their
works together, one man may apply in a new light the old hacked
simile of Mezentius, who tied together the living and the dead.

We have just received the works of an author, from whom I find I
am to receive much less entertainment than I expected, because I
shall have much less to read than I intended.  His Memoirs, I am
told, are almost wholly military; which, therefore, I shall not
read: and his poetry, I am sure, I shall not look at, because I
should not understand it.  What I saw of it formerly, convinced
me that he would not have been a poet, even if he had written in
his own language: and, though I do not understand German, I am
told it is a fine language - and I can easily believe that any
tongue (not excepting our old barbarous Saxon, which, a bit of an
antiquary
as I am, I abhor,) is more harmonious than French.  It was
curious absurdity, therefore, to pitch on the most unpoetic
language in Europe, the most barren, and the most clogged with
difficulties.  I have heard Russian and Polish sung, and both
sounded musical; but, to abandon one's own tongue, and not adopt
Italian, that is even sweeter, and softer, and more copious, than
the Latin, was a want of taste that I should think could not be
applauded even by a Frenchman born in Provence.  But what a
language is the French, which measures verses by feet that never
are to be pronounced; which is the case wherever the mute e is
found! What poverty of various sounds for rhyme, when, lest
similar cadences should too often occur, their mechanic bards are
obliged to marry masculine and feminine terminations as
alternately as the black and white squares of a chessboard? Nay,
will you believe me, Madam,--yes, you will, for you may convince
your own eyes,-that a scene of Zaire begins with three of the
most nasal adverbs that ever snorted together in a breath?
Enfin, donc, desormais, are the culprits in question.  Enfin
donc, need I tell your ladyship, that the author I alluded to at
the beginning of' this long tirade is the late King of Prussia?

I am conscious that I have taken a little liberty when I
excommunicate a tongue in which your ladyship has condescended to
write;(625) but I only condemn it for verse and pieces of
eloquence, of which I thought it alike incapable, till I read
Rousseau of Geneva.  It is a most sociable language, and charming
for narrative and epistles.  Yet, write as well as you will in
it, you must be liable to express yourself better in the speech
natural to you and your own country has a right to understand all
your works, and is jealous of their not being as perfect as you
could make them.  Is it not more creditable to be translated into
a foreign language than into your own? and will it not vex you to
hear the translation taken for the original, and to find
vulgarisms that you could not have committed yourself? But I have
done, and will release you, Madam; only observing, that you
flatter me with a vain hope, when you tell me you shall return to
England, some time or other.  Where will that time be for me! and
when it arrives, shall I not be somewhere else?

I do not pretend to send your ladyship English news, nor to tell
you of English literature.  You must before this time have heard
of the dismal state into which our chief personage is fallen!
That consideration absorbs all others.  The two houses are going
to settle some intermediate succedaneum; and the obvious one, no
doubt, will be fixed on.

(625) Besides writing a comedy in French, called "Nourjahad,"
Lady Craven had translated into that language Cibber's play of
"She would and She would not."-E.



Letter 325 \To The Miss Berrys.(626)
February 2, 17-71(627) [1789.) (page 413)

I am sorry, in the sense of that word before it meant, like a
Hebrew word, glad or sorry, that I am engaged this evening; and I
am at your command on Tuesday, as it is always my inclination to
be.  It is a misfortune that words are become so much the current
coin of society, that, like King William's shillings, they have
no impression left; they are so smooth, that they mark no more to
whom they first belonged than to whom they do belong, and are not
worth even the twelvepence into which they may be changed: but if
they mean too little, they may seem to mean too much too,
especially when an old man (who is often synonymous for a miser)
parts with them.  I am afraid of protesting how much I delight in
your society, lest I should seem to affect being gallant; but if
two negatives make an affirmative, why may not two ridicules
compose one piece of sense? and therefore, as I am in love with
you both, I trust it is a proof of the good sense of your devoted
H. WALPOLE.

(626) This is the first of a series of letters addressed by Mr
Walpole to Miss Mary and Miss Agnes Berry, and now first
published from the original in their possession.-E.

(627) The date is thus put, alluding to his age, which, in'1789
was seventy-one.-M. B.



letter 326 To The Miss Berrys.
Berkeley Square, March 20, 1789. (page 413)

Mrs. Damer had lent her Madame de la Motte,(628) and I have but
this moment recovered it; so, you see, I had not forgotten it any
more than my engagements to you: nay, were it not ridiculous at
my age to use a term so almost run out as never, I would add,
that you may find I never can forget you.  I hope you are not
engaged this day sevennight, but will allow me to wait on you to
Lady Ailesbury, which I will settle with her when I have your
answer.  I did mention it to her in general, but have no day free
before Friday next, except Thursday; when, if there is another
illumination, as is threatened, we should neither get thither nor
thence; especially not the latter, if the former is
impracticable.

"Quicquid delirant Reges, plectuntur Achivi."(629)

P. S. I have got a few hairs of Edward the Fourth's head, not
beard; they are of a darkish brown, not auburn.

(628) The M`emoire Justificatif of Madame de la Motte, relative
to her conduct in the far-famed affair of the necklace.-E.

(629) Alluding to the public rejoicings on the recovery of George
the Third from his first illness in 1788.  In a letter to her
sister of the 9th of March, Miss More relates the following
particulars:--"A day or two ago I dined at the Bishop of
London's, with Dr. Willis.  As we had nobody else at dinner but
the Master of the Rolls, I was indulged in asking the doctor all
manner of impertinent questions.  He never saw, he said, so much
natural sweetness and goodness of mind, united to so much piety,
as in the King.  During his illness, he many time shed tears for
Lord North's blindness.  The Bishop had been to him that morning:
he told him that he wished to return his thanks to Almighty God
in the most public manner, and hoped the Bishop would not refuse
him a sermon.  He proposed going to St. Paul's to do it.  He
himself has named one of the Psalms for the thanksgiving-day, and
the twelfth of Isaiah for the lesson."


On the 17th, she again writes--"The Queen and Princesses came to
see the illuminations, and did not get back to Kew till after one
O'clock.  When the coach stopped, the Queen took notice of a fine
gentleman who came to the coach-door without his hat.  This was
the King, who came to hand her out.  She scolded him for being up
and out so late; but he gallantly replied, 'he could not Possibly
go to bed and sleep till he knew she was safe.'  There never was
so joyous, so innocent, and so orderly a mob." Memoirs, vol. ii.
Pp. 144- 155-E.



Letter 327 To Miss Hannah More.
Berkeley Square, April 22, 1789. (page 414)

Dear Madam,
As perhaps you have not yet seen the "Botanic Garden" (which I
believe I mentioned to you), I lend it you to read.  The poetry,
I think, you will allow most admirable; and difficult it was, no
doubt.  If you are not a naturalist, as well as a poetess,
perhaps you will lament that so powerful a talent has been wasted
to so little purpose; for where is the use of describing in verse
what nobody can understand without a long prosaic explanation of
every article? It is still more unfortunate that there is not a
symptom of plan in the whole poem.  The lady-flowers and their
lovers enter in pairs or trios, or etc.  as often as the couples
in Cassandra.  and you are not a whit more interested about one
heroine and her swain than about another.  The similes are
beautiful, fine, and sometimes sublime: and thus the episodes
will be better remembered than the mass of the poem itself, which
one cannot call the subject; for could one call it a subject, if
any body had composed a poem on the matches formerly made in the
Fleet, where, as Waitwell says, in "The Way of the World," they
stood like couples in rows ready to begin a country-dance?
Still, I flatter myself you will agree with me that the author is
a great poet, and could raise the passions, and possesses all the
requisites of the art.  I found but a single bad verse; in the
last canto one line ends e'er long.  You will perhaps be
surprised at meeting a truffle converted into a nymph, and
inhabiting a palace studded with emeralds and rubies like a
saloon in the Arabian Nights! I had a more particular motive for
sending this poem to you: you will find the bard espousing your
poor Africans.  There is besides, which will please you too, a
handsome panegyric on the apostle of humanity, Mr. Howard.(630)

Mrs. Garrick, whom I had the pleasure of meeting in her own box
at Mr. Conway's play, gave me a much better account of your
health which delighted me.  I am sure, my good friend, you
partake of my joy at the great success of his comedy.  The
additional character of the Abb`e pleased much: it was added by
the advice of the players to enliven it; that is, to stretch the
jaws of the pit and galleries.  I sighed silently; for it was
originally so genteel and of a piece, that I was sorry to have it
tumbled by coarse applauses.  But this is a secret.  I am going
to Twickenham for two days on an assignation with the spring, and
to avoid the riotous devotion of to-morrow.

A gentleman essayist has printed what he calls some strictures on
my Royal and Noble Authors, in revenge for my having spoken
irreverently (on Bishop Burnet's authority) of the Earl of
Anglesey, who had the honour, it seems, of being the gentleman's
grandfather.  He asks me, by the way, why it was more ridiculous
in the Duke of Newcastle to write his two comedies, than in the
Duke of Buckingham to write "The Rehearsal?"  Alas! I know but
one reason; which is, that it is less ridiculous to write one
excellent comedy, than two very bad ones.  Peace be with such
answerers! Adieu, my dear Madam!  Yours most cordially.

(630) "I did not feel," says Miss More, in her reply, "so much
gratified in reading the poem, marvellous as I think it, as I did
at the kindness which led you to think of me when you met with
any thing that you imagined would give me pleasure.  Your
strictures, which are as true as if they had no wit in them,
served to embellish every page as I went on, and were more
intelligible and delightful to me than the scientific annotations
in the margin.  The author is, indeed, a poet; and I wish, with
you, that he had devoted his exuberant fancy, his opulence of
imagery, and his correct and melodious versification.  to
subjects more congenial to human feelings than the intrigues of a
flower-garden.  I feel, like the most passionate ]over, the
beauty of the cyclamen, or honeysuckle; but am as indifferent as
the most fashionable husband to their amours, their pleasures, or
their unhappiness." Memoirs, vol. ii. p. 149.-E.



Letter 328 To The Miss Berrys.
April 28, at night, 1789. (page 415)

By my not saying no to Thursday, you, I trust, understood that I
meant yes; and so I do.  In the mean time, I send you the most
delicious poem upon earth.  If you don't know what it is all
about, or why; at least you will find glorious similes about
every thing in the world, and I defy you to discover three bad
verses in the whole stack.  Dryden was but the prototype of the
Botanic Garden in his charming Flower and Leaf; and if he had
less meaning, it is true he had more plan: and I must own, that
his white velvets and green velvets, and rubies and emeralds,
were much more virtuous gentlefolks than most of the flowers of
the creation, who seem to have no fear of Doctors' Commons before
their eyes.  This is only the Second Part; for, like my 'king's
eldest daughter' in the Hieroglyphic Tales, the First Part is not
born yet:--no matter.  I can read this over and over again for
ever; for though it is so excellent, it is impossible to remember
any thing so disjointed, except you consider it as a collection
of short enchanting poems,--as the Circe at her tremendous
devilries in a church; the intrigue of the dear nightingale and
rose; and the description of Medea; the episode of Mr. Howard,
which ends with the most sublime of lines--in short, all, all;
all is the most lovely poetry.  And then one sighs, that such
profusion of poetry, magnificent and tender, should be thrown
away on what neither interests nor instructs, and, with all the
pains the notes take to explain, is scarce intelligible.'

How strange it is, that a man should have been inspired with such
enthusiasm of poetry by poring through a microscope, and peeping
through the keyholes of all the seraglios of all the flowers in
the universe I hope his discoveries may leave any impression but
of the universal polygamy going on in the vegetable world, where,
however, it is more gallant than amongst the human race; for you
will find that they are the botanic ladies who keep harams, and
not the gentlemen.  Still, I will maintain that it is much better
that we should have two wives than your sex two husbands.  So
pray don't mind Linnaeus and Dr. Darwin: Dr. Madan had ten times
more sense. Adieu! Your doubly constant Telypthorus.

(631) "Modern ears," says Mr. Matthias, in the Pursuits of
Literature, "are absolutely debauched by such poetry as Dr.
Darwin's, which marks the decline of simplicity and true taste in
this country.  It is to England what Seneca's prose was to Rome:
abundat dulcibus vitiis.  Dryden and Pope are the standards of
excellence in this species of writing in our language; and when
young minds are rightly instituted in their works, they may,
without much danger, read such glittering verses as Dr. Darwin's.
They will then perceive the distortion of the sentiment, and the
harlotry of the ornaments." To the short-lived popularity of Dr.
Darwin, the admirable poem of "The Loves of the Triangles'" the
joint production of Mr. Canning and Mr. Frere, in no small degree
contributed.-E.



Letter 329 To The Miss Berrys.
Strawberry Hill, Tuesday, June 23, 1789. (PAGE 416)

I am not a little disappointed and mortified at the post bringing
me no letter from you to-day; you promised to write on the road.
I reckon you arrived at your station on Sunday evening: if you do
not write till next day, I shall have no letter till Thursday!

I am not at all consoled for my double loss: my only comfort is,
that I flatter myself the journey and air will be of service to
you both.  The latter has been of use to me, though the part of
the element of air has been chiefly acted by the element of
water, as my poor haycocks feel! Tonton (632) does not miss you
so much as I do, not having so good a taste; for he is grown very
fond of me, and I return it for your sakes, though he deserves it
too, for he is perfectly good-natured and tractable; but he is
not beautiful, like his " god-dog,(633) as Mr. Selwyn, who dined
here on Saturday, called my poor late favourite; especially as I
have had him clipped.  The shearing has brought to light a nose
an ell long; an as he has now nasum rhinocerotis, I do not doubt
but he will be a better critic in poetry than Dr. Johnson, who
judged of harmony by the principles of an author, and fancied, or
wished to make others believe, that no Jacobite could write bad
verses, nor a Whig good.

Have you shed a tear over the Opera-house?(634) or do you agree
with me, that there is no occasion to rebuild it? The nation has
long been tired of operas, and has now a good opportunity of
dropping them.  Dancing protracted their existence for some time;
but the room after.  was the real support of both, and was like
what has been said of your sex, that they never speak their true
meaning but in the postscript of their letters.  Would not it be
sufficient to build an after-room on the whole emplacement, to
which people might resort from all assemblies? It should be a
codicil to all the diversions of London; and the greater the
concourse, the more excuse there would be for staying all night,
from the impossibility of ladies getting their coaches to drive
up.  To be crowded to death in a waiting-room, at the end of an
entertainment, is the whole joy; for who goes to any diversion
till the last minute of it? I am persuaded that, instead if
retrenching St. Athanasius's Creed, as the Duke of Grafton
proposed, in order to draw good company to church, it would be
more efficacious if the Congregation were to be indulged with an
After-room in the vestry; and, instead of two or three being
gathered together, there would be all the world, before the
prayers would be quite over.

Thursday night

"Despairing, beside a clear stream
A shepherd forsaken was laid;"--

not very close to the stream, but within doors in sight of it;
for in this damp weather a lame old Colin cannot lie and despair
with any comfort on a wet bank: but I smile against the grain,
and am seriously alarmed at Thursday being come, and no letter!
I dread one of you being ill.  Mr. Batt(635) and the Abb`e
Nicholls(636) dined with me to-day, and I could talk of you en
pais de connoissance.  They tried to persuade me that I have no
cause to be in a fright about you; but I have such perfect faith
in the kindness of both of you, as I have in your possessing
every other virtue, that I cannot believe but some sinister
accident must have prevented my hearing from you. I wish Friday
was come! I cannot write about any thing else till I have a
letter.

(632) A dog of Miss Berry's left in Walpole's care during their
absence in Yorkshire.-M.B.

(633) The dog which had been bequeathed to Mr. Walpole by Madame
du Deffand at her death, and which was likewise called Tonton.
See ant`e, p. 275, letter 217.-M.B.

(634) on the night of the 17th, the Opera-house was entirely
consumed by fire.-E.

(635) Thomas Batt, Esq.  then one of the commissioners for public
accounts.-E.

(636) The Rev. Norton Nicholls, rector of Lound and Bradwell in
the county of Suffolk; one of the most elegant scholars and
accomplished gentlemen of the day.  He died in November 1809, in
his sixty-eighth year.  " It was his singular good fortune," says
Mr. Dawson Turner, , to have been distinguished in his early life
by the friendship of Gray the poet; while the close of his days
was cheered and enlivened and dignified by the friendship, and
almost constant society, of a Man scarcely inferior to Gray in
talent and acquirements Mr. Mathias; who has embalmed his memory
in an Italian Ode and a biographical Memoir; which latter is a
beautiful specimen of that kind of composition.,, They will both
be found in the fifth volume of Nicholls's Illustrations of
Literature.-E.



Letter 330 To Miss Hannah More.
Strawberry Hill, June 23, 1789. (PAGE 418)

Madam Hannah,
You are an errant reprobate, and grow wickeder and wickeder every
day.  You deserve to be treated like a negre; and your favourite
Sunday, to which you are so partial that you treat the other poor
six days of the week as if they had no souls to be saved, should,
if I could have my will, "shine no Sabbath-day for you." Now,
don't simper, and look as innocent as if virtue would not melt in
your mouth.  Can you deny the following charges?--I lent you "The
Botanic Garden," and you returned it without writing a syllable,
or saying, -where you were or whither you was going; I suppose
for fear I should know how to direct to you.  Why, if I did send
a letter after you, could not you keep it three months without an
answer, as you did last year?

In the next place, you and your nine accomplices, who, by the
way, are too good in keeping you company, have clubbed the
prettiest poem imaginable,(637) and communicated it to Mrs.
Boscawen, with injunctions not to give a copy of it; I suppose,
because you are ashamed of having written a panegyric.  Whenever
you do compose a satire, you are ready enough to publish it; at
least, whenever you do, you will din one to death with it.  But
now, mind your perverseness: that very pretty novel poem, and I
must own it is charming, have you gone and spoiled, flying in the
faces of your best friends the Muses, and keeping no measures
with them.  I'll be shot if they dictated two of the best lines
with two syllables too much in each--nay, you have weakened one
of them,

"Ev'n Gardiner's mind"

is far more expressive than steadfast Gardiner's; and, as Mrs.
Boscawen says, whoever knows any thing of Gardiner, could not
want that superfluous epithet; and whoever does not, would not be
the wiser for your foolish insertion--Mrs. Boscawen did not call
it foolish, but I do.  The second line, as Mesdemoiselles the
Muses handed it to you, Miss, was,

"Have all be free and saved--"

not, "All be free and all be saved:" the second all be is a most
unnecessary tautology.  The poem was perfect and faultless, if
you could have let it alone.  I wonder how your mischievous
flippancy could help maiming that most new and beautiful
expression, "sponge Of sins;" I should not have been surprised,
as you love verses too full of feet, if you have changed it to
"that scrubbing-brush of sins."

Well! I will say no more now: but if you do not order me a copy
of "Bonner's Ghost" incontinently, never dare to look my printing
house in the face again.  Or come, I'll tell you what; I will
forgive all your enormities, if you will let me print your poem.
I like to filch a little immortality out of others, and the
Strawberry press could never have a better opportunity.  I will
not haggle for the public will be content with printing only two
hundred copies, of which you shall have half, and I half.  It
shall cost you nothing but a yes, I only propose this, in case
you do not mean to print it yourself.  Tell me sincerely which
you like.  But as to not printing it at all, charming and
unexceptionable as it is, you cannot be so preposterous.(638)  I
by no means have a thought of detracting from your own share in
your own poem; but, as I do suspect that it caught some
inspiration from your perusal of "The Botanic Garden," so I hope
you will discover that my style is much improved by having lately
studied Bruce's travels.  There I dipped, and not in St. Giles's
pound, where one would think this author had been educated.
Adieu! Your friend, or mortal foe, as you behave on the present
occasion.

(637) "Bishop Bonner's Ghost;" to which was prefixed the
following argument:--"In the garden of the palace at Fulham is a
dark recess; at the end of this stands a chair which once
belonged to Bishop Bonner.  A certain Bishop of London more than
two hundred years after the death of the aforesaid -Bonner just
as the clock of the Gothic chapel had struck six undertook to cut
with his own hand a narrow walk through this thicket, which is
since called 'The Monk's Walk.' He had no sooner begun to clear
the way, than lo! suddenly up started from the chair the Ghost of
Bonner; who, in a tone of just and bitter indignation, uttered
the following verses."-E.

(638) Miss More, in her reply, says--"I send this under cover to
the Bishop of London, to whom I write your emendations, and
desire they may be considered as the true reading.  What is odd
enough, I did write both the lines so at first but must go
a-tinkering them afterwards.  I do not pretend that I am 'lot
flattered by your obliging proposal of printing these slight
verses at the Strawberry press.  YOU must do as you please, I
believe.  What business have I to think meanly of verses You have
commended?" Memoirs, vol. ii. p. 159.-E.



Letter 331 To Miss Berry.
Strawberry Hill, June 30, 1789. (PAGE 419)

Were there any such thing as sympathy at the distance of two
hundred miles, you would have been in a mightier panic than I
was; for, on Saturday se'nnight, going to open the glass case in
the Tribune, my foot caught in the carpet, and I fell with my
whole (si weight y a) weight against the corner of the marble
altar, on my side, and bruised the muscles so badly, that for two
days I could not move without screaming.(639)  I am convinced I
should have broken a rib, but that I fell on the cavity whence
two of my ribs were removed, that are gone to Yorkshire.  I am
much better both of my bruise and of my lameness, and shall be
ready to dance at my own wedding when my wives return.  And now
to answer your letter.  If you grow tired of the Arabian Nights,
you have no more taste than Bishop Atterbury,(640) who huffed
Pope for sending him them or the Persian Tales, and fancied he
liked Virgil better, who had no more imagination than Dr.
Akenside.  Read Sinbad the Sailor's Voyages, and you will be sick
of AEneas's.  What woful invention were the nasty poultry that
dunged on his dinner, and ships on fire turned into Nereids! a
barn metamorphosed into a cascade in a pantomime is full as
sublime an effort of genius.  I do not know whether the Arabian
Nights are of Oriental origin or not:(641) I should think not,
because I never saw any other Oriental composition that was not
bombast without genius, and figurative without nature; like an
Indian screen, where you see little men on the foreground, and
larger men hunting tigers above in the air, which they take for
perspective.  I do not think the Sultaness's narratives very
natural or very probable, but there is a wildness in them that
captivates.  However, if you could wade through two octavos(642)
of Dame Piozzi's thoughts and so's and I trow's, and cannot
listen to seven volumes of Scheherezade's narrations, I will sue
for a divorce infibro Parnassi, and Boccalini shall be my
proctor.  The cause will be a counterpart to the sentence of the
Lacedoemonian, who was condemned for breach of the peace, by
saying in three words what he might have said in two.

You are not the first Eurydice that has sent her husband to the
devil, as you have kindly proposed to me; but I will not
undertake the jaunt, for if old Nicholas Pluto should enjoin me
not to look back to you, I should certainly forget the
prohibition like my predecessor.  Besides, I am a little too
close to take a voyage twice which I am so soon to repeat; and
should be laughed at by the good folks on the other side of the
water, if I proposed coming back for a twinkling Only.  No; I
choose as long as I can

"Still with my fav'rite Berrys to remain."(643)

So you was not quite satisfied, though you ought to have been
transported, with King's College Chapel, because it has no
aisles, like every common cathedral.  I suppose you would object
to a bird of paradise, because it has no legs, but shoots to
heaven in a trait, and does not rest on earth.  Criticism and
comparison spoil many tastes.  You should admire all bold and
unique essays that resemble nothing else; the Botanic Garden, the
Arabian Nights, and King's Chapel are above all rules: and how
preferable is what no one can imitate, to all that is imitated
even from the best models! Your partiality to the pageantry of
popery I do not approve, and I doubt whether the world will not
be a loser (in its visionary enjoyments) by the extinction of
that religion, as it was by the decay of chivalry and the
proscription of the heathen deities.  Reason has no invention;
and as plain sense will never be the legislator of human affairs,
it is fortunate when taste happens to be regent.

(639) Miss More, in a letter written at this time to Walpole,
says, "How you do scold me! but I don't care for your scolding;
and I don't care for your wit neither, that I don't.  half as
much as I care for a blow which I hear you have given yourself
against a table.  I have known such very serious consequences
arise from such accidents, that I beg of you to drown yourself in
the "Veritable Arquebusade." Memoirs, vol. ii. P. 158.-E.

(640) The following are the Bishop's expressions:--"And now, Sir,
for your Arabian Tales.  Ill as I have been, almost ever since
they came to hand, I have read as much of them as I shall read
while I live.  indeed, they do not please my taste; they are writ
with so romantic an air, and are of so wild and absurd a
contrivance, that I have not only no pleasure, but no patience in
reading them.  I cannot help thinking them the production of some
woman's imagination."  The Honourable Charles Yorke, in a letter
to his brother, the second Earl of Hardwicke written in June
1740, states that Pope and Warburton both agreed in condemning
the bishop's judgment on the Arabian Tales and that Warburton
added, that from those tales the completest notion might be
gather,d of the Eastern ceremonies and manners.-E.

(641) The work entitled "Mille et Une Nuits," was translated from
an original Arabic manuscript, in the King of France's library by
M. Galland, professor of Arabic in the University of Paris.  It
appeared in 1704-8: in twelve volumes.-E.

(642) Her "Observations and Reflections in the course of a
Journey through France, Italy, and Germany," honoured with a
couplet in the Baviad--

See Thrale's gray widow with a satchel roam,
And bring in Pomp laborious nothings home."-E.

(643) A line from some verses that he had received.-M.B.



Letter 332 To Miss Hannah More.
Strawberry Hill, July 2, 1789. (PAGE 421)

I almost think I shall never abuse you again; nay, I would not,
did not it prove so extremely good for you.  No walnut tree is
better for being threshed than you are; and, though you have won
my heart by your compliance, I don't know whether my conscience
will not insist on my using YOU ill now and then; for is there
any precedent for gratitude not giving way to every other duty?
Gratitude like an earl's eldest son, is but titular, and has no
place upon trials.     But I fear I punning sillily, instead of
thanking you seriously, as I do, for allowing me to print your
lovely verses.  My press can confer no honour; but, when I offer
it, it is a certain mark Of My sincerity and esteem.  It has been
dedicated to friendship, to charity-too often to worthless
self-love; sometimes to the rarity of the pieces, and sometimes
to the merit of them; now it will unite the first motive and the
last.

My fall, for which you so kindly concern yourself, was not worth
mentioning; for as I only bruised the muscles of my side, instead
of breaking a rib, camphire infused in arquebusade took off the
pain and all consequences in five or six days: and one has no
right to draw on the compassion of others for what one has
suffered and is past.  Some love to be pitied on that score; but
forget that they only excite, in the best-natured, joy on their
deliverance.  You commend me too for not complaining of my
chronical evil; but, my dear Madam, I should be blamable for the
reverse.  If I would live to seventy-two, ought I not to compound
for the encumbrances of old age? And who has fewer? And who has
more cause to be thankful to Providence for his lot?  The gout,
it is true, comes frequently, but the fits are short, and very
tolerable; the intervals are full health.  My eyes are perfect,
my hearing but little impaired, chiefly to whispers, for which I
certainly have little occasion: my spirits never fail; and though
my hands and feet are crippled, I can use both, and do not wish
to box, wrestle, or dance a hornpipe.  In short, I am just infirm
enough to enjoy all the prerogatives of old age, and to plead
them against any thing I have not a mind to do.  Young men must
conform to every folly in fashion - drink when they had rather be
sober; fight a duel if somebody else is wrong-headed; marry to
please their fathers, not themselves; and shiver in a white
waistcoat, because ancient almanacks, copying the Arabian, placed
the month of June after May; though, when the style was reformed,
it ought to have been intercalated between December and January.
Indeed, I have been so childish as to cut my hay for the same
reason, and am now weeping over it by the fireside.  But to come
to business.

You must suffer me to print two hundred copies; and if you
approve it, I will send thirty to the Bishop of London out of
your quota.  You may afterwards give him more, if you please.  I
do not propose putting your name, unless you desire it; as I
think it would swear with the air of ancientry you have adopted
in the signature and notes.  The authoress will be no secret; and
as It will certainly get into magazines, why should not you deal
privately beforehand with some bookseller, and have a second
edition ready to appear soon after mine is finished?  The
difficulty of getting my edition at first, from the paucity of
the number and from being only given as presents, will make the
second edition eagerly sought for; and I do not see why my
anticipating the publication should deprive you of the profit.
Rather than do that, I would print a smaller number.  I wish to
raise an additional appetite to that which every body has for
your writings; I am sure I did not mean to injure you.  Pray
think of this; there 'Is time enough; I cannot begin to print
under a week: my press has lain fallow for some time, and my
printer must prepare ink, balls, etc.; and as I have but one man,
he cannot be expeditious.  I seriously do advise you to have a
second edition ready; why should covetous booksellers run away
with all the advantages of your genius? They get enough by their
ample share of the sale.

I will say no more, but to repeat my thanks for your consent,
which truly obliges me; and I am happy to have been the
instrument of' preserving what your modesty would have sunk.  My
esteem could not increase: but one likes to be connected by
favours to those one highly values.



Letter 333 To Miss Berry.
Strawberry Hill, July 9, 1789. (PAGE 422)

You are so good and punctual, that I will complain no more of
your silence, unless you are silent.  You must not relax,
especially until you can give me better accounts of your health
and spirits.  I was peevish before with the weather; but, now it
prevents your riding, I forget hay and roses, and all the
comforts that are washed away, and shall only watch the
weathercock for an east wind in Yorkshire.  What a shame that I
should recover from the gout and from bruises, as I assure you I
am entirely, and that you should have a complaint left! One would
think that it was I was grown young again; for while just now, as
I was reading your letter in my bedchamber, while some of my
customers(644) are seeing the house, I heard a gentleman in the
armoury ask the housekeeper as he looked at the bows and arrows,
"Pray, does Mr. Walpole shoot?" No, nor with pistols neither.  I
leave all weapons to Lady Salisbury(645) and Mr. Lenox;(646) and,
since my double marriage, have suspended my quiver in the Temple
of Hymen.  Hygeia shall be my goddess, if she will send you back
blooming to this region.

I wish I had preserved any correspondence in France, as you are
curious about their present history; which I believe very
momentous indeed.  What little I have accidentally heard, I will
relate, and will learn what more I can.  On the King,'s being
advised to put out his talons, Necker desired leave to resign, as
not having been consulted, and as the measure violated his plan.
The people, hearing his intention, thronged to Versailles; and he
was forced to assure them from a balcony, that he was not to
retire.  I am not accurate in dates, nor warrant my intelligence,
and therefore pretend only to send you detached scraps.  Force
being still in request, the Duc du Chatelet acquainted the King
that he could not answer for the French guards. Chatelet, who,
from his hot arrogant temper, I should have thought would have
been One of the proudest opposers of the people, is suspected to
lean to them.  In short, Marshal Broglio is appointed
commander-in-chief, and is said to have sworn on his sword, that
he will not sheathe it till he has plunged it into the heart of
ce gros banquier Genevois.  I cannot reconcile this with Necker's
stay at Versailles.  That he is playing a deep game is certain.
It is reported that Madame Necker tastes previously every thing
he swallows.(647)  A vast camp is forming round Paris; but the
army is mutinous--the tragedy may begin on the other side.  They
do talk of an engagement at Metz, where the French troops,
espousing the popular cause, were attacked by two German
regiments, whom the former cut to pieces.  The Duke and Duchess
of Devonshire, who were at Paris, have thought it prudent to
leave it; and My Cousin, Mr. Thomas Walpole, who is near it, has
just written to his daughters, that he is glad to be Out of the
town, that he may Make his retreat easily.

Thus, you see the crisis is advanced far beyond orations, and
wears all the aspect of civil war.  For can one imagine that the
whole nation is converted at once, and in some measure without
provocation from the King, who, far from enforcing the
prerogative like Charles the First, Cancelled the despotism
obtained for his grandfather by the Chancellor Maupeou, has
exercised no tyranny, and has shown a disposition to let the
constitution be amended.  It did want it indeed; but I fear the
present want of temper grasps at so much, that they defeat their
own purposes; and where loyalty has for ages been the predominant
characteristic of a nation, it cannot be eradicated at once.
Pity will soften the tone of the moment; and the nobility and
clergy have more interest in wearing a royal than a popular yoke;
for great lords and high-priests think the rights of mankind a
defalcation of-their privileges.  No man living is more devoted
to liberty than I am; yet blood is a terrible price to pay for
it! A martyr to liberty is the noblest of characters; but to
sacrifice the lives of others, though for the benefit of all, is
a strain of heroism that I could never ambition.

I have just been reading Voltaire's Correspondence,--one of those
heroes who liked better to excite martyrs, than to be one.  How
vain would he be, if alive now! I was struck with one of his
letters to La Chalotais, who was a true upright patriot and
martyr too.  In the 221 st Letter of the sixth volume, Voltaire
says to him, "Vous avez jett`e des germes qui produiront un jour
plus qu'on ne pense." It was lucky for me that you inquired about
France; I had not a halfpennyworth more of news in my wallet.

A person who was very apt to call on you every morning for a
Minute, and stay three hours, was with me the other day, and his
grievance from the rain was the swarms of gnats.  I said, I
supposed I have very bad blood, for gnats never bite me.  He
replied, "I believe I have bad blood, too, for dull people, who
would tire me to death, never Come Dear me." Shall I beg a
pallet-full of that repellent for you, to set in your window as
barbers do?

I believe you will make me grow a little of a newsmonger, though
you are none; but I know that at a distance, in the country,
letters of news are a regale.  I am not wont to listen to the
batteries on each side of me at Hampton-court and Richmond; but
in your absence I shall turn a less deaf ear to them, in hopes of
gleaning something that may amuse you: though I shall leave their
manufactures of scandal for their own home consumption; you
happily do not deal in such wares.  Adieu!  I used to think the
month of September the dullest of the whole set; now I shall be
impatient for it.

(644) The name given by Mr. Walpole to parties coming to view his
house.-M.B.

(645) Lady Mary-Amelia, daughter of Wills, first Marquis of
Downshire; married, in 1773, to James seventh Earl of Salisbury,
advanced, in August 1789, to the title of Marquis.  Her ladyship
was a warm patroness of the art of archery, and a first-rate
equestrian.  In November 1835, at the age of eighty-four, she was
burnt to death at Hatfield-house.-E.

(646) In consequence of a dispute, concerning words said to have
been spoken at Daubiny's club, a duel took place at Wimbledon, on
the 26th of May, between the Duke of York and Colonel Lenox,
afterwards Duke of Richmond.  Neither of the parties was wounded;
and the seconds, Lords Rawdon and Winchilsea, certified, that
both behaved with the utmost coolness and intrepidity.-E.

(647) On the 11th of July, two days after the date of this
letter, Necker received his dismission and a formal demand to
quit the kingdom.  It was accompanied by a note from the King,
praying him to depart in a private manner, for fear of exciting
disturbances.  Necker received this intimation just as he was
dressing for dinner-, after which, without divulging his
intention to any one, he set out in the evening, with Madame
Necker, for Basle.  See Mignet, tom. i. p. 47.-E.



Letter 334 To Miss Hannah More.

Strawberry Hill, July 10, 1789. (PAGE 425)


Though I am touchy enough with those I love, I did not think
you
dilatory, nor expect that answers to letters should be as quick
as repartees.  I do pity you for the accident that made you
think
yourself remiss.(648)  I enjoy your patient's recovery; but
almost smiled unawares at the idea of her being sopped, and
coming out of the water brustling up her feathers and ermines,
and assuming the dignity of a Jupiter Pluvius.


I beseech you not to fancy yourself vain on my being your
printer
would Sappho be proud, though Aldus or Elzevir were her
typographer?  My press has no rank but from its narrowness,
that
is, from the paucity of its editions, and from being a
volunteer.
But a truce to compliments, and to reciprocal humility.  Pray
tell me how I shall convey your parcel to you: the impression
is
begun.  I shall not dare, vu le sujet, to send a copy to Mrs.
Garrick;(649) I do not know whether you will venture.  Mrs.
Boscawen shall have one, but it shall be in your name: so
authorize me to present It, that neither of us may tell the
whitest of fibs.  Shall I deliver any others for you within my
reach, to save you trouble?


I have no more corrections to make.  I told you brutally at
first
of the only two faults I found, and you sacrificed them with
the
patience of a martyr; for I conclude that when a good poet
knowingly sins against measure twice, he is persuaded that he
makes amends by greater beauties: in such case docility
deserves
the palmbranch.  I do not applaud your declining a London
edition; but you have been so tractable, that I will let you
have
your way in this, though you only make over profit to
magazines.
Being an honest printer myself, I have little charity for those
banditti of my profession who pilfer from every body they find
on
the road.


(648) "You will think me a great brute and savage, dear Sir,
for
not having directly thanked you for your letter, till you have
read my piece justificative, and then you will think I should
have been a greater brute and savage if I had; for the very day
I
received it, a very amiable neighbour, coming to call on us,
was
overturned from her phaeton into some water, her husband
driving
her.  The poor lady was brought into our house, to all
appearance
dying.  I thank God, however, she is now out of danger; but our
attendance, day and night, on the maimed lady and the
distressed
husband banished poetry from my thoughts, and suspended all
power
of writing nonsense."  Miss More to Walpole. Memoirs, vol. ii.
p.
160.-E.


(649) Mrs. Garrick was a Roman Catholic.-E.




Letter 335 To The Hon. H. S. Conway.

Strawberry Hill, Wednesday night, [July 15, 1789.] (PAGE 425)


I write a few lines only to confirm the truth of much of what
you
will read in the papers from Paris.  Worse may already be come,
or is expected every hour.  Mr. Mackenzie and Lady Betty called
on me before dinner, after the post was gone out; and he showed
me a letter from Dutens, who said two couriers arrived
yesterday
from the Duke of Dorset and the Duchess of Devonshire, the
latter
of whom was leaving Paris directly.  Necker had been dismissed,
and was thought to be set out for Geneva.  Breteull, who was at
his country-house, had been sent for to succeed him.  Paris was
in an uproar; and, after the couriers had left it, firing of
cannon was heard for four hours together.  That must have been
from the Bastille,(650) as probably the tiers `etat were not so
provided.  It is shocking to imagine what may have happened in
such a thronged city!  One of the couriers was stopped twice or
thrice, as supposed to pass from the King; but redeemed himself
by pretending to be despatched by the tiers `etat. Madame de
Calonne told Dutens, that the newly encamped troops desert by
hundreds.


Here seems the egg to be hatched, and imagination runs away
with
the idea.  I may fancy I shall hear of the King and Queen
leaving
Versailles, like Charles the First, and then skips imagination
six-and-forty years lower, and figures their fugitive majesties
taking refuge in this country.  I have besides another idea.
If
the Bastille conquers, still it is impossible, considering the
general spirit in the country, and the numerous fortified
places
in France, but some may be seized by the dissidents, and whole
provinces be torn from the crown! On the other hand, if the
King
prevails, what heavy despotism will the `etats, by their want
of
temper and moderation, have drawn on their country! They might
have obtained many capital points, and removed great
oppression.
No French monarch will ever summon `etats again, if this moment
has been thrown away.


Though I have stocked myself with such a set of visions for the
event either way, I do not pretend to foresee what will happen.
Penetration argues from reasonable probabilities; but chance
and
folly are apt to contradict calculation, and hitherto they
seen)
to have full scope for action.  One hears of no genius on
either
side, nor do symptoms of any appear.  There will perhaps: such
times and tempests bring forth, at least bring out, great men.
I
do not take the Duke of Orleans or Mirabeau to be built du bois
dont on les fait; no, nor Monsieur Necker.(651)  He may be a
great traitor, if he made the confusion designedly: but it is a
woful evasion, if the promised financier slips into a black
politician! I adore liberty, but I would bestow it as honestly
as
I could; and a civil war, besides being a game of chance, is
paying a very dear price for it.


For us, we are in most danger of a deluge; though I wonder we
so
frequently complain of long rains.  The saying about St.
Swithin
is a proof of how often they recur; for proverbial sentences
are
the children of experience, not of prophecy.  Good night! In a
few days I shall send you a beautiful little poem from the
Strawberry press.


(650) For an interesting account of the storming and
destruction
of the Bastille, on the 14th of July, see Mr. Shobert's
valuable
translation of M. Thiers's "History of the French Revolution,"
vol. i. p. 59.-E.


(651) "It was in vain," says Sir Walter Scott, "that the
Marquis
de Bouill`e pointed out the dangers arising from the
constitution
assigned to the States General, and insisted that the minister
was arming the Popular part of the nation against the two
privileged orders, and that the latter would soon experience
the
effects of their hatred, Necker calmly replied, that there was
a
necessary reliance to be placed on the virtues of the human
heart--the maxim of a worthy man, but not of an enlightened
statesman, who has but too much reason to know how often both
the
virtues and the prudence of human nature are surmounted by its
prejudices and Passions." Life of Napoleon Buonaparte, vol. i,
p,
107, ed. 1834.-E.



Letter 336 To Miss Hannah More.
Strawberry Hill, Monday night, July 20, 1789. (PAGE 427)

My excellent friend,
I never shall be angry with your conscientiousness, though I ) do
not promise never to scold it, as you know I think you sometimes
carry it too far; and how pleasant to have a friend to scold on
such grounds!  I see all your delicacy in what you call your
double treachery, and your kind desire of connecting two of your
friends.(652)  The seeds are sprung up already; and the Bishop
has already condescended to make me the first, and indeed so
unexpected a visit, that, had I in the least surmised it, I
should certainly, as became me, have prevented him.  One effect,
however, I can tell you your pimping between us will have: his
lordship has, to please your partiality, flattered me so
agreeably in the letter you betrayed, that I shall never write to
you again without the dread of attempting the wit he is so
liberal as to bestow on me; and then either way I must be dull or
affected, though I hope to have the grace to prefer the former,
and then you only will be the sufferer, as we both should by the
latter.  But I will come to facts -.  they are plain bodies, can
have nothing to do with wit, and yet are not dull to those who
have any thing to do with them.

According to your order, I have delivered Ghosts(653) to Mrs.
Boscawen, Mrs. Garrick, Lady Juliana Penn, Mrs. Walsingham, and
Mr. Pepys.  Mr. Batt, I am told, leaves London to-day; so I shall
reserve his to his return.  This morning I carried his thirty to
the Bishop of London, who said modestly, he should not have
expected above ten.  I was delighted with the palace, with the
Venerable chapel, and its painted episcopalities in glass, and
the brave hall, etc. etc.  Though it rained, I would crawl to
Bonner's chair.  In short, my satisfaction would have been
complete, but for wanting the presence of that jesuitess, "the
good old papist."

To-morrow departs for London, to be delivered to the Bristol
coach at the White-horse-cellar in Piccadilly, a parcel
containing sixty-four Ghosts, one of which is printed on brown
for your own eating.  There is but one more such, so you may
preserve it like a relic.  I know these two are not so good as
the white: but, as rarities, a collector would give ten times
more for them; and uniquity will make them valued more than the
charming poetry.  I believe, if there was but one ugly woman in
the world, she would occasion a longer war than Helen did.  You
will find the Bishop's letter in the parcel.  I did not breathe a
hint of my having seen it, as I could not conjure up Into my pale
cheeks the blush I ought to exhibit on such flattery.

I pity you most sincerely for your almost drowned guest.  Fortune
seems to delight in throwing poor Louisas in Your Way, that you
may exercise your unbounded charity and benevolence.  Adieu!
pray write.  I need not write to you to pray; but I wish, when
your knees have what the common people call a worky-day, you
would employ your hands the whole time.  Yours most cordially.

P. S. I believe I have blundered, and that your knees would call
a week-day a holiday.

(652) With the view of making Bishop Porteus and Walpole better
known to each other, Miss More had committed what she called a
double treachery, in showing to the Bishop a letter she had
received from Walpole, and to Walpole one sent her by the
Bishop.-E.

(653) Though the author of this poem must have been known to so
many individuals in the year 1789, the secret was so well kept,
that it was actually printed in the, Gentleman's Magazine for
February, 1804, as the production of Walpole.-E.



Letter 337 To Miss Berry.
Strawberry Hill, July 29, 1789. (PAGE 428)

I have received two dear letters from you of the 18th and 25th
and though you do not accuse me, but say a thousand kind things
to me in the most agreeable manner, I allow my ancientry, and
that I am an old, jealous, and peevish husband, and quarrel with
you if I do not receive a letter exactly at the moment I please
to expect one.  You talk of mine; but, if you knew how I like
Yours, you would not wonder that I am impatient, and even
unreasonable in my demands.  However, though I own my faults, I
do not mean to correct them.  I have such pleasure in your
letters (I am sorry I am here forced to speak in the singular
number,'which by the way is an Irishism,) that I will be cross if
you do not write to me perpetually.  The quintessence of your
last but one was, in telling me you are better - how fervently do
I wish to receive such accounts every post.  But who can mend but
old I, in such detestable weather?--not one hot day; and, if a
morning shines, the evening closes with a heavy shower.

Of French news I can give you no fresher or more authentic
account, than you can collect in general from the newspapers; but
my present visitants and every body else confirm the veracity of
Paris being in that anarchy that speaks the populace domineering
in the most cruel and savage manner, and which a servile
multitude broken loose calls liberty; and which in all
probability will end, when their Massaniello-like reign is over,
in their being more abject slaves than ever, and chiefly by the
crime of their `Etats, who, had they acted with temper and
prudence, might have obtained from their poor and undesigning
King a good and permanent constitution.  Who may prove their
tyrant, if reviving loyalty does not in a new frenzy force him to
be so, it is impossible to foresee; but much may happen first.
The rage seems to gain the provinces, and threatens to exhibit
the horrors of those times when the peasants massacred the
gentlemen.  Thus you see I can only conjecture, which is not
sending you news; and my intelligence reaches me by so many
rebounds, that you must not depend on any thing I can tell you.
I repeat, because I hear; but draw on you for no credit.  Having
experienced last winter, in suporaddition to a long life of
experience, that in Berkeley Square I could not trust to a single
report from Kew, can I swallow implicitly at Twickenham the
distorted information that comes from Paris through the medium of
London?

You asked me in one of your letters who La Chalotais was.  I
answer, premier pr`esident or avocat-g`en`eral, I forget which,
of the Parliament of Bretagne; a great, able, honest, and most
virtuous man, who opposed the Jesuits and the tyranny of the Duc
d'Aiguillon; but he was as indiscreet as he was good.  Calonne
was his friend and confident; to whom the imprudent patriot
trusted, by letter, his farther plan of opposition and designs.
The wretch pretended to have business with, or to be sent for by,
the Duc de la Vrilli`ere, secretary of state; a courtier-wretch,
whose mistress used to sell lettres do cachet for a louis.(654)
Calonne was left to wait in the antechamber; but being, as he
said, suddenly called in to the minister, as he was reading (a
most natural soil for such a lecture) the letter of his friend,
he by a second natural inadvertence left the fatal letter on the
chimney-piece.  The consequence, much more natural, was, that La
Chalotais was committed to the Ch`ateau du Taureau, a horrible
dungeon on a rock in the sea, with his son, whose legs mortified
there, and the father was doomed to the scaffold; but the Duc de
Choiseul sent a counter reprieve by an express and a cross-road,
and saved him.(655)  At the beginning of this reign he was
restored.  Paris, however, was so
indignant at the treachery, that this Calonne was hissed out of
the theatre, when I was in that capital.(656)  When I heard, some
years after, that a Calonne was made controlleur-g`en`eral, I
concluded that it must be a son, not conceiving that so
reprobated a character could emerge to such a height; but asking
my sister, 'who has been in France since I was, she assured me it
was not only the identical being, but that when she was at Metz,
where I think he was intendant, the officers in garrison would
not dine with him.  When he fled hither for an asylum, I did not
talk of his story till I saw it in one of the pamphlets that were
written against him in France, and that came over hither.

Friday night, 31st.

My company prevented my finishing this: part left me at noon, the
residue are to come to-morrow.  To-day I have dined at
Fulham(657) along with Mrs. Boscawen but St. Swithin played the
devil so, that we could not stir out of doors, and had fires to
chase the watery Spirits.  Quin, being once asked if ever he had
seen so bad a winter, replied, "Yes, just such an one last
summer!"--and here is its youngest brother!

Mrs. Boscawen saw a letter from Paris to Miss Sayer this morning,
Which says Necker's son-in-law was arrived, and had announced his
father-in- law's promise of return from Basle.  I do not know
whether his honour or ambition prompt this compliance; Surely not
his discretion.  I am much acquainted with him, and do not hold
him great and profound enough to quell the present anarchy.  if
he attempts to moderate for the King, I Shall not be surprised if
he falls another victim to tumultuary jealousy and outrage.(658)
All accounts agree in the violence of the mob against the
inoffensive as well as against the objects of their resentment;
and in the provinces, where even women are not safe in their
houses.  The hotel of the Duc de Chatelet, lately built and
superb, has been assaulted, and the furniture sold by
auction;(659) but a most shocking act of a royalist in Burgundy
who is said to have blown up a committee of forty persons, will
probably spread the flames of civil rage much wider.  When I read
the account I did not believe it; but the Bishop of London says,
he hears the `Etats have required the King to write to every
foreign power not to harbour the execrable author, who is
fled.(660)  i fear this conflagration will not end as rapidly as
that in Holland!

(654) The Duc de la Vrillibre was dismissed in 1775, and
succeeded by M. de Malesherbes, Madame du Deffand's letter to
Walpole of June 26, 1774, contains the following epigram on
him:--

"Ministre sans talent ainsi que sans vertu,
Couvert d'ignominie autant qu'on le peut `etre,
Retire-toi donc! Qu'attends-tu?
Qu'on te jette par la fen`etre?"-E.

(655) La Chalotais died in July 1785.  Among other works he wrote
an "Essay On National Education," which was reprinted in 1825.
His son perished by the guillotine in January 1794.-E.

(656) "An intrigue brought M. de Calonne forward, who was not in
good odour with the public, because he had contributed to the
persecution Of La chatolais." Thiers, vol. i. p. 5.-E.

(657) With Bishop Porteus.  "I fear," writes Hannah More, on
hearing of this dinner, "I shall secretly triumph in the success
of my fraud, if it has contributed to bring about any intercourse
between the Abbey of Fulham and the Castle of Otranto, it sounds
so ancient and so feudal!  But among the things which pleased you
in the episcopal domain, I hope the lady of it has that good
fortune; she is quite a model of a pleasant wife.  Now, I am
acquainted with a great many very good wives, who are so notable
and so manageable, that they make a man every thing but happy;
and I know a great many other;, who sing, play and paint, and cut
paper, and are so accomplished, that they have no time to be
agreeable, and no desire to be useful," Memoirs, vol.'Ii. p.
165.-E.

(658) On the 16th of July, five days after the dismissal of M.
Necker, the National Assembly obtained his recall.  His return
from Basle to Paris was one continued triumph.  During the next
twelve months, he was constantly presenting new financial
statements; but he soon perceived that his influence was daily
diminishing: at length the famous Red Book appeared, and
completely put an end to his popularity.  In September 1790, his
resignation was accepted: as he was quitting the kingdom, his
carriage was stopped by the same populace which had so recently
drawn him into Paris in triumph; and it was necessary to apply to
the Assembly for an order, directing that he should be allowed to
proceed to Switzerland.  He obtained this permission, and retired
to Coppet, "there," says M. Thiers, "to contemplate at a
distance, a revolution which he was no longer qualified to
observe Closely Or to guide."-E.

(659) The Duke, who was colonel of the King's guard, narrowly
escaped assassination.-E.

(660) After an inquiry, instituted by the National Assembly, the
whole was found to be a villanous fabrication.-E.



Letter 338 To John Pinkerton, Esq.(661)
Strawberry Hill, July 31, 1789. (PAGE 431)

Having had my house full of relations till this evening, I could
not answer the favour of your letter Sooner; and now I am ashamed
of not being able to tell you that I have finished reading your
"Essay on the Ancient History of Scotland."  I am so totally
unversed in the story of original nations, and I own always find
myself so little interested in savage manners unassisted by
individual characters, that, though you lead me with a firmer
hand than any historian through the dark tracts, the clouds rose
round me the moment I have passed them, and I retain no memory of
the ground I have trod.  I greatly admire your penetration, and
read with wonder your clear discovery of the kingdom of
Strathclyde; but, though I bow to you, as I would to the founder
of an empire, I confess I do not care a straw about your
subjects, with whom I am no more acquainted than with the ancient
inhabitants of Otaheite.  Your origin of the Piks is most able;
but then I cannot remember them with any precise discrimination
from any other hyperborean nation; and all the barbarous names at
the end of the first volume, and the gibberish in the Appendix,
was to me as unintelligible as if Repeated Abracadabra; and made
no impression on me but to raise respect of your patience, and
admire a sagacity that could extract meaning and suite from what
seemed to me the most indigestible of all materials.  You rise in
my estimation in Proportion to the disagreeable mass of your
ingredients.  What gave me pleasure that I felt, was the
exquisite sense and wit of your Introduction; and your masterly
handling and confutation of the Macphersons, Whitaker, etc.
there and through your work.  Objection I have but one, I think
you make yourself too much a party against the Colts.  I do not
think they were or are worthy of hatred.

Upon the whole, dear Sir, you see that your work is too learned
and too deep for my capacity and shallow knowledge.  I have told
you that my reading and knowledge is and always was trifling and
superficial, and never taken up or pursued but for present
amusement.  I always was incapable of dry and unentertaining
studies; and of all studies the origin of nations never was to my
taste.  Old age and frequent disorders have dulled both my
curiosity and attention, as well as weakened my memory; and I
cannot fix my attention to long deductions.  I say to myself,
"What is knowledge to me who stand on the verge, and must leave
any old stores as well as what I may add to them; and how little
could that be?"

Having thus confessed the truth, I am sure you are too candid and
liberal to be offended - you cannot doubt of my high respect for
your extraordinary abilities I am even proud of having discovered
them of myself without any clue.  I should be very insincere, if
I pretended to have gone through with eagerness your last work,
which demands more intense attention than my age, eyes, and
avocations will allow.  I cannot read long together; and you are
sensible that your work is not a book to be`rea'd' by snatches
and intervals; especially as the novelty, to me at least,
requires some helps to connect it with the memory.

(661) Now first collected.



Letter 339 To Miss Hannah More.(662)
Strawberry Hill, August 9, 1789. (PAGE 432)

You are not very corresponding, (though better of late,) and
therefore I will not load the conscience of your fingers much,
lest you should not answer me in three months.  I am happy that
you are content with my edition of your Ghost, and with the brown
copy.  Every body is charmed with your poem: I have not heard one
breath but of applause.  In confirmation, I enclose a note to me
from the Duchess of Gloucester, who certainly never before wished
to be an authoress.  You may lay it up in the archives of
Cowslip-green, and carry it along with your other testimonials to
Parnassus.(663)  Mr. Carter, to whom I sent a copy, is delighted
with it.  The Bishop, with whom I dined last week, is extremely
for your printing an edition for yourself, and desired I would
press you to it.  Mind, I do press you: and could Bonner's Ghost
be laid again,-which is ,impossible, for it will walk for ever,
and by day too,--we would have it laid in the Red Sea by some
West India merchant, who must be afraid of spirits, and cannot be
in charity with you.  Mrs. Boscawen dined at Fulham with me.  It
rained all day; and, though the last of July, we had fires in
every room, as if Bonner had been still in possession of the see.

I have not dared to recollect you too often by overt acts, dear
Madam; as, by the slowness of your answer, you seem to be sorry
my memory was so very alert.  Besides, it looks as if you had a
mind to keep me at due distance, by the great civility and cold
complimentality of your letter; a style I flattered myself you
had too much good will towards me to use.  Pretensions to
humility I know are generally traps to flattery; but, could you
know how very low my opinion is of myself, I am sure you would
not have used the terms to me you did, and which I will not
repeat, as they are by no means applicable to me.  If I ever had
tinsel parts, age has not only tarnished them, but convinced me
how frippery they were.

Sweet are your Cowslips, sour my Strawberry Hill;
My fruits are fallen, your blossoms flourish still.

Mrs. Boscawen told me last night, that she had received a long
letter from you, which makes me flatter myself you have no return
of your nervous complaints.  Mrs. Walsingham I have seen four or
five times - Miss Boyle has decorated their house most
charmingly; she has not only designed, but carved in marble,
three beautiful base reliefs, with boys, for a chimney-piece;
besides painting elegant panels for the library, and forming, I
do not know how, pilasters of black and gold beneath glass; in
short, we are so improved in taste, that, if it would be decent,
I could like to live fifty or sixty years more, just to see how
matters go on.  In the mean time, I wish my Macbethian wizardess
would tell me "that Cowslip Dale should come to Strawberry Hill;"
which by the etiquette of oracles, you know, would certainly
happen, because so improbable.  I will be content if the nymph of
the dale will visit the old man of the mountain, and her most
sincere friend.

(662) Now first collected.

(663) In reply to this, Miss More says, "You not only do all you
can to turn my head by printing my trumpery verses yourself.  but
you call in royal aid to complete my delirium.  I comfort myself
you will counteract some part of the injury you have done, my
principles this summer, by a regular course of abuse when we meet
in the winter: remember that you owe this to my moral health;
next to being flattered I like to be scolded; but to be let
quietly alone would be intolerable.  Dr. Johnson once said to me,
'I Never mind whether they praise or abuse your writings; any
thing is tolerable except oblivion.'" Memoirs, vol. ii. P.
169.-E.



Letter 340 To John Pinkerton, Esq.(664)
Strawberry Hill, Aug. 14, 1789. (PAGE 433)

I must certainly have expressed myself very awkwardly, dear Sir,
if you conceive I meant the slightest censure on your book, much
less on your manner of treating it; which is as able, and clear,
and demonstrative as possible.  No; it was myself, my age, my
want of apprehension and memory, and my total ignorance of the
subject, which I intended to blame.  I never did taste or study
the very ancient histories of nations.  I never had a good memory
for names of persons, regions, places, which no specific
circumstances concurred to make me remember; and now, at
seventy-two, when, as is common, I forget numbers of names most
familiar to me, is it possible I should read with pleasure any
work that consists of a vocabulary so totally new to me? Many
years ago, when my faculties were much less impaired, I was
forced to quit Dow's History of Indostan, because the Indian
names made so little impression on me, that I went backward
instead of forward, and was every minute reverting to the former
page to find about whom I was reading.  Your book was a still
more laborious work to me; for it contains such a series of
argumentation that it demanded a double effort from a weak old
head; and, when I had made myself master of a deduction, I forgot
it the next day, and had my pains to renew.  These defects have
for some time been so obvious to me, that I never read now but
the most trifling books; having often said that, at the very end
of life, it is useless to be improving one's stock of knowledge,
great or small, for the next world.  Thus, Sir, all I have said
in my last letter or in this, is an encomium on your work, not a
censure or criticism.  It -would be hard on you, indeed, if my
incapacity detracted from your merit.

Your arguments in defence of works of science and deep
disquisition are most just; and I am sure I have neither power
nor disposition to answer them.  You have treated your matter as
it ought to be treated.  Profound men or conversant on the
subject, like Mr. Dempster, will be pleased with it, for the very
reasons that made it difficult to me.  If Sir Isaac Newton had
written a fairy tale, I should have swallowed it eagerly; but do
you imagine, Sir, that, idle as I am, I am, idiot enough to think
that Sir Isaac had better have amused me for half an hour, than
enlightened mankind and all ages? I was so fair as to confess to
you that your work was above me, and did not divert me: you was
too candid to take that ill, and must have been content with
silently thinking me very silly; and I am too candid to condemn
any man for thinking of me as I deserve.  I am only sorry when I
do deserve a disadvantageous character.

Nay, Sir, you condescend, after all, to ask My opinion of the
best way of treating antiquities; and, by the context, I suppose
you mean, how to make them entertaining.  I cannot answer you in
one word -, because there are two ways, as there are two sorts of
readers.  I should therefore say, to please antiquaries of
judgment, as you have treated them, with arguments and proofs;
but, if you would adapt antiquities to the taste of those who
read only to be diverted, not to be instructed, the nostrum is
very easy and short.  You must divert them in the true sense of
the word diverto; you must turn them out of the way, you must
treat them with digressions nothing or very little to the
purpose.  But, easy as I call this recipe, you, I believe, would
find it more difficult to execute, than the indefatigable
industry you have employed to penetrate chaos and extract the
truth.  There have been professors who have engaged to adapt all
kinds of knowledge to the meanest capacities.  I doubt their
success, at least on me: however, you need not despair; all
readers are not as dull and superannuated as, dear Sir, yours,
etc.

(664) Now first collected.



Letter 341 To John Pinkerton, Esq,(665)
Strawberry Hill, August 19, 1789. (PAGE 434)

I will not use many words, but enough, I hope, to convince you
that I meant no irony in my last.  All I said of you and myself
was very sincere- It is my true opinion that your understanding
is one of the strongest, most manly, and clearest I ever knew;
and, as I hold my own to be of a very inferior kind and know it
to be incapable of sound, deep application, I should have been
very foolish if I had attempted to sneer at you or your pursuits.
Mine have always been light and trifling, and tended to nothing
but my casual amusement; I will not say, without a little vain
ambition of showing some parts but never with industry sufficient
to make me apply to any thing solid.  My studies, if they could
be called so, and my productions, were alike desultory.  In my
latter days I discovered the utility both of my objects and
writings: I felt how insignificant is the reputation of an author
of mediocrity; and that, being no genius, I only added one name
more to a list of writers that had told the world nothing but
what it could as well be without.

These reflections were the best proofs of my sense: and, when I
could see through my own vanity, there is less wonder at my
discovering that such talents as I might have had, are impaired
at Seventy-two.  Being just to myself, I am not such a coxcomb as
to be unjust to you.  No, nor did I cover any irony towards you,
in the opinion I gave you of making deep writings palatable to
the mass of readers.  Examine my words; and I am sure you will
find that, if there was any thing ironic in my meaning, it was
levelled at your readers, not at you.  it is my opinion, that
whoever wishes to be read by many, if his subject is weighty and
solid, must treat the majority with more than is to his purpose.
Do not you believe that twenty name Lucretius because of the
poetic commencement of his books, for five that wade through his
philosophy?

I promised to say but little; and, if I have explained myself
clearly, I have said enough.  It is not, I hope, my character to
be a flatterer: I do most sincerely think you capable of great
things; and I should be a pitiful knave if I told you SO, unless
it was my opinion; and what end could it serve to me? Your course
is but beginning; mine is almost terminated.  I do not want you
to throw a few daisies on my grave; and if you make the figure I
augur you will, I shall not be a witness to it.  Adieu, dear Sir!

(665) NOW first collected.



Letter 342 To Richard Gough, Esq.
 Strawberry Hill, August 24, 1789. (PAGE 435)

I shall heartily lament with you, Sir, the demolition of those
beautiful chapels at Salisbury.  I was scandalized long ago at
the ruinous state in which they were indecently suffered to
remain.  It appears as strange, that, when a spirit of
restoration and decoration has taken place, it should be mixed
with barbarous innovation.  As much as taste has improved, I do
not believe that modern execution will equal our models.  I am
sorry that I can only regret, not prevent.  I do not know the
Bishop of Salisbury(666) even by Sight, and certainly have no
credit to obstruct any of his plans.  should I get sight of Mr.
Wyatt, which is not easy to do, I will remonstrate against the
intended alteration; but probably without success, as I do not
suppose he has authority enough to interpose effectually: still I
will try.  It is an old complaint with me, Sir, that when
families are extinct, chapters take the freedom of removing
ancient monuments, and even of selling, over again the sites of
such tombs.  A scandalous, nay, dishonest abuse, and very
unbecoming clergy!  Is it creditable for divines to traffic for
consecrated ground, and which the church had already sold? I do
not wonder that magnificent monuments are out of fashion, when
they are treated so disrespectfully.  You, Sir, alone have placed
several out of the reach of such a kind of simoniacal abuse; for
to buy into the church, or to sell the church's land twice over,
breathes a similar kind of spirit.  Perhaps, as the subscription
indicates taste, if some of the subscribers could be persuaded to
object to the removal of the two beautiful chapels, as contrary
to their view of beautifying, it might have good effect; or, if
some letter were published in the papers against the destruction,
as barbarous and the result of bad taste, it might divert the
design.  I zealously wish it were stopped, but I know none of the
chapter or subscribers.(667)

(666) Dr. Shute Barrington; in 1791, translated to the see of
Durham.-E.

(667) Much discussion on the subject of the injury done to
Salisbury cathedral, here complained of by Walpole, took place in
the Gentleman's Magazine for this and the following year.  "This
good," says the writer of a learned article on Cathedral
Antiquities, in the Quarterly Review for 1825, "has arisen from
the injury which was done at Salisbury, that in subsequent
undertakings of the same kind, the architect has come to his work
with Greater respect for the structures upon which he was
employed, and a mind more embued with the principles of Gothic
architecture."-E.



Letter 343 To The Miss Berrys.
Strawberry Hill, Thursday evening, Aug. 27, 1789. (PAGE 436)

I jumped for joy,-that is, my heart did, which is all the remain
of me that is in statu iumpante,-at the receipt of your letter
this morning, which tells me you approve of the house at
Teddington.  How kind you was to answer so incontinently! I
believe you borrowed the best steed from the races.  I have sent
to the landlord to come tomorrow: but I could not resist
beginning my letter to-night, as I am at home alone, with a
little pain in my left wrist; but the right one has no brotherly
feeling for it, and would not be put off so.  You ask how you
have deserved such attentions? Why, by deserving them; by every
kind of merit, -and by that superlative one to me, your
submitting to throw away so much time on a forlorn antique--you
two, who, without specifying particulars, (and you must at least
be conscious that you are not two frights,) might expect any
fortune and distinctions, and do delight all companies.  On which
side lies the Wonder? Ask me no more such questions, or I will
cram you with reasons.

My poor dear niece(668) grows worse and worse: the medical people
do not pretend to give us any hopes; they only say she may last
some weeks, which I do not expect, nor do absent myself.  I had
promised Mr. Barrett to make a visit to my Gothic child, his
house, on Sunday; but I have written to-day to excuse myself: so
I have to the Duchess of Richmond,(669) who wanted me to meet her
mother, sister,(670) and General Conway, at Goodwood next week.

I wish Lady Fitzwilliam may not hear the same bad news as I
expect, in the midst of her royal visitors: her sister, the
Duchess of St. Albans, is dying, in the same way as Lady, Dysart;
and for some days has not been in her senses.  How charming you
are to leave those festivities for your good parents; who I do
not wonder are impatient for you.  I, who am old enough to be
your great-grandmother, know one needs not be your near relation
to long for your return.  Of all your tour, next to your duteous
visits, I most approve the jaunt to the sea - I believe in its
salutary air more than in the whole college and all its works.

You must not expect any news from me, French or homebred.  I am
not in the way of hearing any: your morning gazetteer rarely
calls on me, as I am not likely to pay him in kind.  About royal
progresses, paternal or filial, I never inquire; nor do you, I
believe, care more than I do.  The small wares in which the
societies at Richmond and Hampton-court deal, are still less to
our taste.  My poor niece and her sisters take up most of my time
and thoughts: but I will not attrist you to indulge myself, but
will break off here, and finish my letter when I have seen your
new landlord.  Good night!

Friday.

Well! I have seen him, and nobody was ever so accommodating! He
is as courteous as a candidate for a county.  You may stay in his
house till Christmas if you please, and shall pay but twenty
pounds; and if more furniture is wanting, it shall be supplied.

(668) The Countess of Dysart.-M.B.

(669) Lady Mary Bruce, daughter of the Earl of Ailesbury by
Caroline Campbell, daughter of General John Campbell, afterwards
Duke of Argyle.-M.B.

(670) Mrs. Damer, only child of the Dowager Countess of
Ailesbury, by Marshal Henry Seymour Conway, her second husband.
She was thus half-sister to the Duchess of Richmond.-M.B.



Letter 344 To The Miss Berrys.
Strawberry Hill, Sept. 4, 1789. (PAGE 437)

You ask whether I will call you wise or stupid for leaving, York
races in the middle-neither; had you chosen to stay, you would
have done rightly.  The more young persons see, where there is
nothing blamable, the better; as increasing the stock of ideas
early will be a resource for age.  To resign pleasure to please
tender relations is amiable, and superior to wisdom; for wisdom,
however laudable, is but a selfish virtue.  But I do decide
peremptorily, that it was very prudent to decline the invitation
to Wentworth House,(671) which was obligingly given; but, as I am
very proud for you, I should have disliked your being included in
a mobbish kind of colhue.  You two are not to go where any other
two misses would have been equally pri`ees, and where people
would have been thinking of the princes more than of the Berrys.
Besides, princes are so rife now, that, besides my sweet
nephew(672)  in the Park, we have another at Richmond: the Duke
of Clarence has taken Mr. Henry Hobart's house, pointblank over
against Mr. Cambridge's, which will make the good woman of that
mansion cross herself piteously, and stretch the throat of the
blatant beast at Sudbrook(673) and of all the other pious matrons
`a la ronde; for his Royal Highness, to divert lonesomeness, has
brought with him - -, who, being still more averse to solitude,
declares that any tempter would make even Paradise more agreeable
than a constant t`ete-`a-t`ete.

I agree with you in not thinking Beatrice one of Miss Farren's
capital parts.  Mrs. Pritchard played it with more spirit, and
was superior to Garrick's Benedict; so is Kemble, too, as he Is
to Quin in Maskwell.  Kemble and Lysons the clergyman(674) passed
all Wednesday here with me.  The former is melting the three
parts of Henry the Sixth into one piece: I doubt it will be
difficult to make a tolerable play out of them.

I have talked scandal from Richmond, like its gossips; and now,
by your queries after Lady Luxborough, you are drawing me into
more, which I do not love: but she is dead and forgotten, except
on the shelves of an old library, or on those of my old memory;
which you will be routing into.  The lady you wot of, then, was
the first wife of Lord Catherlogh, before he was an earl; and who
was son of Knight, the South Sea cashier, and whose second wife
lives here at Twickenham.  Lady Luxborough, a high-coloured lusty
black woman, was parted from her husband, upon a gallantry she
had with Dalton, the reviver of Comus and a divine.  She retired
into the country; corresponded, as you see by her letters, with
the small poets of that time; but, having no Theseus amongst
them, consoled herself, as it is said, like Ariadne, with
Bacchus.(675)  This might be a fable, like that of her Cretan
Highness--no matter; the fry of little anecdotes are so numerous
now, that throwing one more into the shoal is of no consequence,
if it entertains you for a Moment; nor need you believe what I
don't warrant.

Gramercy for your intention of seeing Wentworth Castle.  it is my
favourite of all great seats;-such a variety of ground, of wood,
and water; and almost all executed and disposed with so much
taste by the present Earl.  Mr. Gilpin sillily could See nothing
but faults there.  The new front is, in my opinion, one of the
lightest and most beautiful buildings on earth - and, pray like
the little Gothic edifice, and its position in the menagerie!  I
recommended it, and had it drawn by Mr. Bentley, from Chichester
Cross.  Don't bring me a pair of scissors from Sheffield - I am
determined nothing shall cut our loves, though I should live out
the rest of Methusalem's term, as you kindly wish, and as I can
believe, though you are my wives; for I am persuaded my Agnes
wishes so too.  Don't you?

At night.

I am just come from Cambridge's, where I have not been in an
evening, time out of mind.  Major Dixon, alias "the Charming
man,"(676) is there; but I heard nothing of the Emperor's
rickets:(677) a great deal, and many horrid stories, of the
violences in France; for his brother, the Chevalier Jerningham,
is Just arrived from Paris.  You have heard of the destruction of
thirty-two chateaus in Burgundy, at the instigation of a demon,
who has since been broken on the racks.  There is now assembled
near Paris a body of sixteen thousand deserters, daily
increasing; who, they fear, will encamp and dictate to the
capital, in spite of their militia of twenty thousand bourgeois.
It will soon, I suppose, ripen to several armies, and a civil
war; a fine acheminement to liberty!

My poor niece is still alive, though weaker every day, and
pronounced irrecoverable: yet it is possible she may live some
weeks; which, however, is neither to be expected nor wished, for
she eats little and sleeps less.  Still she is calm, and behaves
with the patience of a martyr.

You may perceive, by the former part of my letter, that I have
been dipping into Spenser again, though he is no passion of mine
- there I lighted upon two lines that, at first sight, reminded
me of Mademoiselle d'Eon,

"Now, when Marfisa had put off her beaver,
To be a woman every one perceive her!"

but I do not think that is so perceptible in the Chevali`ere.
She looked more feminine, as I remember her, in regimentals, than
she does now.  She is at best a heri-dragoon, or an Herculean
hostess.  I wonder she does not make a campaign in her own
country, and offer her sword to the almost dethroned monarch, as
a second Joan of Arc.(678) Adieu! for three weeks I shall say,
Sancte Michael, ora pro nobis! You seem to have relinquished your
plan of sea-coasting.  I shall be sorry for that; it would do you
good.

(671) The Prince of Wales and the Duke of York were going to
receive a great entertainment at Wentworth House.-M.B.

(672) The Duke of Gloucester.

(673) Lady Greenwich.

(674) The " little Daniel" of the Pursuits of Literature, brother
of Samuel Lysons, the learned antiquary, and author of "The
Environs, twelve miles round London," in four volumes quarto--

"Nay once, for Purer air o'er rural ground,
With little Daniel went his twelve miles round."-E.

(675) Lady Luxborough died in 1756.  Her letters to Shenstone
were published in 1775.  In the first leaf of the original
manuscript there is an autograph of the poet, describing them as
being "written with abundant ease politeness, and vivacity; in
which she was scarce equalled by any woman of her time."  Some of
her verses are printed in Dodsley's Miscellany, and Walpole has
introduced her ladyship into his Noble Authors.-E.

(676) Edward Jerningham, Esq.  Of Cossey, in Norfolk, uncle to
the present Lord Stafford.  He was distinguished in his day by
the name of Jerningham the poet; but it was an unpoetical day.
The stars of Byron, of Baillie, and of Scott, had not risen On
the horizon.  The well merited distinction of Jerningham was the
friendship, affection, and intimacy which his amiable character
had impressed on the author, and on all of his society mentioned
in these letters.-M.B.

(677) This alludes to something said in a character which
Jerningham had assumed, for the amusement of a society some time
before at Marshal Conway's.-M.B.

(678) Miss More gives the following account of this extraordinary
character:--"On Friday I gratified the curiosity of many years,
by meeting at dinner Madame la Chevali`ere D'Eon - she is
extremely entertaining, has universal information, wit, vivacity,
and gaiety.  Something too much of the latter (I have heard) when
she has taken a bottle or two of Burgundy; but this being a very
sober party, she was kept entirely within the limits of decorum.
General Johnson was of the party, and it was ridiculous to hear
her military conversation.  Sometimes it Was, 'Quand j'`etais
colonel d'un tel regiment;' then again, 'Non, c'Rait quand
j'`etais secr`etaire d'ambassade du Duc de Nivernois,' or, 'Quand
je n`egociais la paix de Paris.' She is, to be sure, a phenomenon
in history; and, as such, a great curiosity.  But one D'Eon is
enough, and one slice of her quite sufficient." Memoirs, vol. ii.
p. 156.-E.



Letter 345 To The Hon. H. S. Conway.
Strawberry Hill, Sept. 5, 1789. (PAGE 440)

You speak so unperemptorily of your motions, that I must direct
to you at random: the most probable place where to hit you, I
think, will be Goodwood; and I do address this thither, because I
am impatient to thank you for your tale, which is very pretty and
easy and genteel.  It has made me make a reflection, and that
reflection made six lines; which I send you, not as good, but as
expressing my thoughts on your writing so well in various ways
which you never practised when you was much younger.  Here they
are:

The Muse most wont to fire a youthful heart,
To gild your setting sun reserved her art;
To crown a life in virtuous labours pass'd,
Bestow'd her numbers and her wit at last;
And, when your strength and eloquence retire,
Your voice in notes harmonious shall expire.

The swan was too common a thought to be directly specified, and,
perhaps, even to be alluded to: no matter, such a trifle is below
criticism.

I am still here, in no uncertainty, God knows, about poor Lady
Dysart (679) of whom there are not the smallest hopes.  She grows
weaker every day, and does actually still go out for the air, and
may languish many days, though most probably will go off in a
moment, As the water rises.  She retains her senses perfectly,
and as perfectly her unalterable calmness and patience, though
fully sensible of her situation.  At your return from Goodwood, I
shall like to come to you, if you are unengaged, and ready to
receive me.  For the beauties of Park-place, I am too well
acquainted with them, not, like all old persons about their
contemporaries, to think it preserves them long after they are
faded; and am so unwalking, that prospects are more agreeable to
me when framed and glazed, and I look at them through a window.
It is yourselves I want to visit, not your verdure.  Indeed,
except a parenthesis of scarce all August, there has been no
temptation to walk abroad; and the tempter himself would not have
persuaded me, if I could, to have climbed that long-lost mountain
whence he could show one even the Antipodes.  It rained
incessantly all June and all July; and now again we have torrents
every day.

Jerningham's brother, the Chevalier, is arrived from Paris, and
does not diminish the horrors one hears every day.  They are now
in the capital dreading the sixteen thousand deserters who hover
about them.  I conclude that when in the character of banditti
the whole disbanded army have plundered and destroyed what they
can, they will congregate into separate armies under different
leaders, who will hang Out different principles, and the kingdom
will be a theatre of civil wars; and, instead of liberty, the
nation will get petty tyrants, perhaps petty kingdoms: and when
millions have suffered, or been sacrificed, the government will
be no better than it was, all owing to the intemperance of the
`etats, who might have obtained a good constitution, or at least
one much meliorated, if they had set out with discretion and
moderation.  They have left too a sad lesson to despotic princes,
who will quote this precedent of frantic `etats, against
assembling any more, and against all the examples of senates and
parliaments that have preserved rational freedom.  Let me know
when it will be convenient to you to receive me.  Adieu!

(679) Her ladyship, who was the daughter of Sir Edward Walpole
and the first wife of Lionel, fourth Earl of Dysart, died on the
day this letter was written.-E.



Letter 346 To Miss Hannah More.
Strawberry Hill, Sept. -, 1789. (PAGE 441)

I know whence you wrote last, but not where you are now; you gave
me no hint.  I believe you fly lest I should pursue, and as if
you were angry that I have forced you to sprout into laurels.
Yet you say you are vain of it, and that you are no philosopher.
Now, if you are vain I am sure you are a philosopher; for it is a
maxim of mine, and one of my own making, that there never was a
philosopher that did not love sweetmeats.  ou tell me too, that
you like I should scold you but since you have appeared as
Bonner's ghost, I think I shall feel too much awe; for though
(which I never expected would be in my power) I have made you
stand in a white sheet, I doubt my respect is increased.  I never
did rate you for being too bad, but too good: and if, when you
make up your week's account, YOU find but a fraction of vanity in
the sum total, you will fall to repenting, and Come forth On
Monday as humble as * * *.  Then, if I huff my heart Out, you
will only simper, and still wrap yourself up in your obstinate
goodness.  Well! take your own way; I give you Up to your
abominable virtues, and will go answer the rest of your letter.

I congratulate you on the demolition of the Bastille; I mean as
you do, of its' functions.(680)  For the poor soul itself, I had
no ill will to it: on the contrary, it was a curious sample of
ancient castellar dungeons, which the good folks the founders
took for palaces: yet I always hated to drive by it, knowing the
miseries it contained.  Of itself it did not gobble up prisoners
to glut its maw, but received them by command.  The destruction
of it was silly, and agreeable to the ideas of a mob, who do not
know stones and bars and bolts from a lettre de cachet.  If the
country remains free, the Bastille would be as tame as a
ducking-Stool, now that there is no such thing as a scold.  If
despotism recovers, the Bastille will rise from its ashes!--
recover, I fear, it will.  The `Etats cannot remain a mob of
kings, and will prefer a single one to a larger mob of kings and
greater tyrants.  The nobility, the clergy, and people of
property will wait, till by address and Money they can divide the
people; or, whoever gets the larger or more victorious army into
his hands, will be a Cromwell or a Monk.  In short, a revolution
procured by a national vertigo does not promise a crop of
legislators.  It is time that composes a good constitution: it
formed ours.  We were near losing it by the lax and unconditional
restoration of Charles the Second.  The revolution was temperate,
and has lasted; and, though it might have been improved, we know
that with all its moderation it disgusted half the nation, who
would have brought back the old sores.  I abominate the
Inquisition as much as you do: yet if the King of Spain receives
no check like his cousin Louis, I fear he will not be disposed to
relax any terrors.  Every crowned head in Europe must ache at
present; and the frantic and barbarous proceedings in France will
not meliorate the stock of liberty, though for some time their
majesties will be mighty tender of the rights of their subjects.

According to this hypothesis, I can administer some comfort to
you about your poor negroes.  I do not imagine that they will be
emancipated at once; but their fate will be much alleviated, as
the attempt will have alarmed their butchers enough to make them
gentler, like the European monarchs, for fear of"provoking the
disinterested, who have no sugar plantations, to abolish the
horrid traffic.

I do not understand the manoeuvre of sugar, and, perhaps, am
going to talk nonsense, as my idea maybe impracticable; but I
Wish human wit, which is really very considerable in mechanics
and merchantry, could devise some method of cultivating canes and
making sugar without the manual labour of the human" species.
How many mills and inventions have there not been discovered to
supply succedaneums to the works of the hands, which before the
discoveries would have been treated as visions! It is true,
manual labour has sometimes taken it very ill to be excused, and
has destroyed such mills; but the poor negroes would not rise and
insist upon being worked to death.  Pray talk to some ardent
genius, but do not name me; not merely because I may have talked
like an idiot, but because my ignorance might, ipso C fiacto,
stamp the idea with ridicule.  People, I know, do not love to be
put out of their old ways: no farmer listens at first to new
inventions in agriculture; and I don't doubt but bread was
originally deemed a new-fangled vagary, by those who had seen
their fathers live very comfortably upon acorns.  Nor is there
any harm in starting new game to invention: many excellent
discoveries have been made by men who were a la chasse of
something very different.  I am not quite sure that the art of
making gold and of* living for ever have been yet found out: yet
to how many noble discoveries has the pursuit of those nostrums
given birth!  Poor chymistry, had she not had such glorious
objects in view!  If you are sitting under a cowslip at your
cottage, these reveries may amuse you for half an hour, at least
make you smile; and for the ease of your conscience, which is
always in a panic, they require no answer.(681)

I will not ask you about the new history of Bristol,(682) because
you are too good a citizen to say a word against your native
place; but do pray cast your eye on the prints of The cathedral
and castle, the chef-d',oeuvres of Chatterton's ignorance, and of
Mr. Barrett's too; and on two letters pretended to have been sent
to me, and which never were sent.  If my incredulity had wavered,
they would have fixed it.  I wish the milkwoman would assert that
Boadicea's dairymaid had invented Dutch tiles; it would be like
Chatterton's origin of heraldry and painted glass, in those two
letters.  I must, however, mention one word about myself.  In the
new fourth volume of the Biographia Britannica I am more candidly
treated about that poor lad than usual: yet the writer still
affirms, that, according to my own account, my reply was too much
in the-commonplace style of court replies.  Now my own words, and
the truth, as they stand in print in the very letter of mine
which this author quotes, were, "I wrote him a letter with as
much kindness and tenderness as if I had been his guardian." Is
this by my own account a court-reply? Nor did I conceive, for I
never was a courtier, that courtiers are wont to make tender
replies to the poor; I am glad to hear they do.

I have kept this letter some days in my writing-box, till I could
meet with a stray member of parliament, for it is not worth
making you pay for: but when you talk to me I cannot help
answering incontinently; besides, can one take up a letter at a
long distance, and heat one's reply over again with the same
interest that it occasioned at first?  Adieu! I wish you may come
to Hampton before I leave these purlieus!  Yours More and More.

(680) Miss More had written to Walpole,--"Poor France! though I
am sorry that the lawless rabble are so triumphant, I cannot help
hoping that some good will arise from the sum of human misery
having been so considerably lessened at one blow by the
destruction of the Bastille.  The utter extinction of the
Inquisition, and the redemption of Africa, I hope yet to see
accomplished." Memoirs, vol. ii. p. 170.-E.

(681) To this passage Miss More thus replies:--"Your project for
relieving our poor slaves by machine work is so far from being
wild or chimerical, that of three persons deep and able in the
concern (Mr. Wilberforce among others), not one but has thought
it rational and practicable, and that a plough may be so
constructed as to save much misery." Memoirs, vol. ii. p.
187.-,E.

(682) "The History and Antiquities of Bristol, by William
Barrett:" Bristol, 1789, quarto; a Work which Mr. Park described
as " a motley compound of real and superstitious history."-E.



Letter 347 To Miss Hannah More.
Strawberry Hill, Nov. 4, 1789. (PAGE 444)

I am not surprised, my dear Madam, that the notice of my illness
should have stimulated your predominant quality, your
sensibility.  1 cannot do less in return than relieve it
immediately, by assuring you that I am in a manner recovered; and
should have gone out before this time, if my mind were as much at
ease as my poor limbs.  I have passed, five months most
uncomfortably; the two last most unhappily.  In June and
September I had two bad falls by my own lameness and weakness,
and was much bruised; while I was witness to the danger, and then
to the death, of my invaluable niece, Lady Dysart.  She was
angelic, and has left no children.  The unexpected death of Lord
Waldegrave(683)  one of the most amiable of men, has not only
deprived me of him, but has opened a dreadful scene of
calamities! he and my niece were the happiest and most domestic
of couples.

Your kind inquiries after me have drawn these details from me,
for which I make no excuse; good-nature never grudges its pity.
I, who love to force your gravity to smile, am seriously better
pleased to indulge your benevolence with a subject of esteem,
which, though moving your compassion, will be accompanied by no
compunction.  I will now answer your letter.  Your plea, that not
composition, but business, has occasioned your silence, is no
satisfaction to me.  In my present anxious solitude I have again
read Bonner and Florio, and the Bas Bleu; and do you think I am
much pleased to learn that you have not been writing? Who is it
says something like this line?--

Hannah will not write, and Lactilla will.

They who think her Earl Goodwin will outgo Shakspeare, might be
in the right, if they specified in what way.  I believe she may
write worse than he sometimes did, though that is not easy; but
to excel him--oh! I have not words adequate to my contempt for
those who can suppose such a possibility!

I am sorry, very sorry, for what you tell me of poor Barrett's
fate.  Though he did write worse than Shakspeare, it is great
pity he was told so, as it killed him; and I rejoice that I did
not publish a word in contradiction of the letters which he said
Chatterton sent to me, as I was advised to do.  I might have
laughed at the poor man's folly, and then I should have been
miserable to have added a grain to the poor man's
mortification.(684)

you rejoice me, not my vanity, by telling me my idea of a
mechanic succedaneum to the labour of negroes is not visionary,
but thought practicable.  Oh! how I wish I understood sugar
ploughs, and could marry them!  Alas! I understand nothing
useful.  My head is as un-mechanic as it is un-arithmetic,
un-geometric, un-metaphysic, uncommercial; but will not some one
of those superior heads to whom you have talked on my indigested
hint reduce it to practicability'! How a feasible scheme would
stun those who call humanity romantic, and show, from the books
of the Custom-house, that murder is a great improvement of the
revenue! Even the present situation of France is favourable.
Could not Mr. Wilberforce obtain to have the enfranchisement of
the negroes started there?  The Jews are claiming their natural
rights there; and blacks are certainly not so great defaulters as
the Hebrews, though they too have undergone ample persecutions.
Methinks, as Lord George Gordon is in correspondence with the
`Etats, he has been a little remiss in not signing the petition
of those of his new communion.

The `Etats are detestable and despicable; and, in fact, guilty of
the outrages of the Parisian and provincial mobs.  The mob of
twelve hundred, not legislators, but dissolvers of all law,
unchained the mastiffs that had been tied up, and were sure to
worry all who fell in their way.  To annihilate all laws, however
bad, and to have none ready to replace them, was proclaiming
anarchy.  What should one think of a mad-doctor, who should let
loose a lunatic, suffer him to burn Bedlam, chop off the heads of
the keepers, and then consult with some students in physic on the
gentlest mode of treating delirium?  By a late vote I see that
the twelve hundred praters are reduced to five hundred: Vive la
reine Billingsgate! the Thalestris who has succeeded Louis
Quatorze!  A committee of those Amazons stopped the Duke of
Orleans, who, to use their style, I believe is not a barrel the
better herring.

Your reflections on Vertot's passion for revolutions are
admirable,(685) and yet it is natural for an historian to like to
describe times of action.  Halcyon days do not furnish matter for
talents; they are like the virtuous couple in a comedy, a little
insipid.  Mr. Manly and Lady Grace, Mellefont and Cynthia, do not
interest one much.  Indeed, in a tragedy where they are unhappy,
they give the audience full satisfaction, and no envy.  The
newspapers, no doubt, thought Dr. Priestley could not do better
than to espouse you.(686)  He certainly would be very judicious,
could he obtain your consent; but, alas! you would squabble about
Socinianism, or some of those isms.  To tell you the truth, I
hate all those Constantinopolitan jargons, that set people
together by the ears about pedantic terms.  When you apply
scholastic phrases as happily and genteelly as you do in your Bas
Bleu, they are delightful; but don't muddify your charming
simplicity with controversial distinctions, that will sour your
sweet piety.  Sects are the bane of charity, and have deluged the
world with blood.

I do not mean, by what I am going to say, to extort another
letter from you before I have the pleasure of seeing you at
Hampton; but I really shall be much obliged to you for a single
line soon, only to tell me if Miss Williams is at Stoke with the
Duchess of Beaufort.  To a short note, cannot you add a short P.
S. on the fate of Earl Goodwin?(687)  Lac mihi novum non frigore
desit.
Adieu! my amiable friend!  Yours most sincerely.

(683) George fourth Earl of Waldegrave born in 1751; married, in
1782, his cousin Lady Elizabeth Laura Waldegrave, daughter of
James, the second Earl.  He died on the 22d of October.-E.

(684) Mr. Barrett was the person who first encouraged Chatterton
to publish the poems which he attributed to Rowley.  He was a
respectable surgeon at Bristol.-E.

(685) Miss More, in her last letter, had said--"What a pity it is
that Vertot is not alive that man's element was a state
convulsion; he hopped over peaceful intervals, as periods of no
value, and only seemed to enjoy himself when all the rest of the
world was sad.  Storm and tempest were his halcyon days."-E.

(686) In her letter to Walpole Miss More had said,--"I comforted
myself., that your two fair wives were within reach of your
elbow-chair, and that their pleasant society would somewhat
mitigate the sufferings of your confinement.  Apropos of two
wives--when the newspapers the other day were pleased to marry me
to Dr. Priestley, I am surprised they did not rather choose to
bestow me on Mr. Madan, as his wife is probably better broken in
to these eastern usages, than Mrs. Priestley may be.  I never saw
the Doctor but once in my life, and he had then
been married above twenty years." Memoirs, vol. ii. P. 188.-E.

(687) Ann Yearsley's tragedy, which had just been represented,
with little success, at the Bath and Bristol theatres.  In reply
to Walpole's query, Miss More says, "There are, I dare say, some
Pretty Passages in it, but all seem to bring it in guilty of the
crime of dullness; which I take to be the greatest fault in
dramatic composition."-E.



Letter 348 To Miss Hannah More.
Berkeley Square, Feb. 20, 1790. (PAGE 446)

It is very provoking that people must always be hanging or
drowning themselves, or going mad, that you forsooth, Mistress,
may have the diversion of exercising your pity and good-nature,
and charity, and intercession, and all that bead-roll of virtues
that make you so troublesome and amiable, when you might be ten
times more agreeable by things that would not cost one above
half-a-crown at a time.(688)  YOU are an absolutely walking
hospital, and travel about into lone and bye places, with your
doors open to house stray casualties! I wish at least that you
would have some children yourself, that you might not be plaguing
one for all the Pretty brats that are starving and friendless.  I
suppose it was some such goody two or three thousand years ago
that suggested the idea of an alna-mater, suckling the three
hundred and sixty-five bantlings of the Countess of Hainault.
Well, as your newly-adopted pensioners have two babes, I insist
on your accepting two guineas for them instead of one at present
(that is, when you shall be present).  i If you cannot
circumscribe your own charities, you shall not stint mine, Madam,
who can afford it much better, and who must be dunned for alms,
and do not scramble over hedges and ditches in searching for
opportunities of flinging away my money on good works.  I employ
mine better at auctions, and in buying pictures and baubles, and
hoarding curiosities, that in truth I cannot keep long but that
will last for ever in my catalogue, and make me immortal!  Alas!
will they cover a multitude of sins?  Adieu! I cannot jest after
that sentence.  Yours sincerely.

(688) Miss More was at this
 time raising a subscription for the benefit of the family of a
poor man who had been cut down after he had nearly hung
himself.-E.



Letter 349 To The Hon. H. S. Conway.(689)
Strawberry Hill, June 25, 1790. (PAGE 447)

I am glad at least that you was not fetched to town on last
Tuesday, which was as hot as if Phaeton had once more gotten into
his papa's curricle and driven it along the lower road; but the
old king has resumed the reins again, and does not allow us a
handful more of beams than come to our northern share.  I am
glad, too, that I was not summoned also to the Fitzroyal
arrangement: it was better to be singed here, than exposed
between two such fiery furnaces as Lady Southampton and my niece
Keppel.  I pity Charles Fox to be kept on the Westminster
gridiron.(690)  Before I came out of town, I was diverted by a
story from the hustings: one of the mob called out to Fox, "Well,
Charley, are not you sick of your coalition?"  "Poor gentleman!"
cried an old woman in the crowd, "why should not he like a
collation?"

I am very sorry Mrs. Damer is so tormented, but I hope the new
inflammation will relieve her.  As I was writing that sentence
this morning, Mesdames de Boufflers came to see me from Richmond,
and brought a Comte de Moranville to see my house.  The puerile
pedants of their `Etats are going to pull down the statues of
Louis Quatorze, like their silly ancestors, who proposed to
demolish the tomb of John Duke of Bedford.  The Vicomte de
Mirabeau is arrested somewhere for something, perhaps for one of
his least crimes; in short, I M angry that the cause of liberty
is profaned by such rascals.  If the two German Kings make peace,
as you hear and as I expected, the Brabanters, who seem not to
have known much better what to do with their revolution, will be
the first sacrifice on the altar of peace.

I stick fast at the beginning of the first volume of Bruce,(691)
though I am told it is the most entertaining; but I am sick of
his vanity, and (I believe) of his want of veracity; but I am
sure of his want of method and of his obscurity.  I hope my wives
were not at Park-place in your absence: the loss of them is
irreparable to me, and I tremble to think how much more I shall
feel it in three months, when I am to part with them for--who can
tell how long?  Adieu!

(689) Now first printed.

(690) At the close of the election, on the 2d of July, the
numbers were, for Mr. Fox 3516, Lord Hood 3217, and Mr. Horne
Took 1697.-E.

(691) Bruce's "Travels to Discover the Source of the Nile" had
just appeared, in five large quarto volumes.  It was dedicated to
George the Third, who, while society in general raised a cry of
incredulity against it, stood up warmly in its' favour, and
contended that it was a great work.-E.



Letter 350 To The Earl Of Strafford.
Strawberry Hill, June 26, 1790. (page 448)

I do not forget your lordship's commands, though I do recollect
my own inability to divert you.  Every year at my advanced time
of life would make more reasonable my plea of knowing nothing
worth repeating, especially at this season.  The general topic of
elections is the last subject to which I could listen: there is
not one about which I care a straw; and I believe your lordship
quite as indifferent.  I am not much more au fait of war.  or
peace; I hope for the latter, nay and expect it, because it is
not yet war.  Pride and anger do not deliberate to the middle of
the campaign; and I believe even the great incendiaries are more
intent on making a good bargain than on saving their honour.  If
they save lives, I care not who is the better politician; and, as
I am not to be their judge, I do not inquire what false weights
they fling into the scales.  Two-thirds of France, who are not so
humble as I, seem to think they can entirely new-model the world
with metaphysical compasses; and hold that no injustice, no
barbarity, need to be counted in making the experiment.  Such
legislators are sublime empirics, and in their universal
benevolence have very little individual sensibility.  In short,
the result of my reflections on what has passed in Europe for
these latter centuries is, that tyrants have no consciences, and
reformers no feeling; and the world suffers both by the plague
and by the cure.  What oceans of blood were Luther and Calvin the
authors of being spilt! The late French government was
detestable; yet I still doubt whether a civil war will not be the
consequence of the revolution, and then what may be the upshot?
Brabant was grievously provoked; is it sure that it will be
emancipated? For how short a time do people who set out on the
most just principles, advert to their first springs of motion,
and retain consistency?  Nay, how long can promoters of
revolutions be sure of maintaining their own ascendant?  They are
like projectors, who are commonly ruined; while others make
fortunes on the foundation laid by the inventors.



Letter 351 To The Hon. H. S. Conway.
Strawberry Hill, Wednesday night, July 1, 1790. (page 448)

It is certainly not from having any thing to tell you, that I
reply so soon, but as the most agreeable thing I can do in my
confinement.  The gout came into my heel the night before last,
perhaps from the deluge and damp.  I increased it yesterday by
limping about the house with a party I had to breakfast.  To-day
I am lying on the settee, unable to walk alone, or even to put on
a slipper.  However, as I am much easier this evening, I trust it
will go off.

I do not love disputes, and shall not argue with you about Bruce;
but, if you like him, you shall not choose an author for me.  It
is the most absurd, obscure, and tiresome book I know.  I shall
admire if you have a clear conception about most of the persons
and matters in his work; but, in fact, I do not believe you have.
Pray, can you distinguish between his cock and hen Heghes, and
between A Yasouses and Ozoros? and do you firmly believe that an
old man and his son were sent for and put to death, because the
King had run into a thornbush, and was forced to leave his
clothes behind him?  Is it your faith, that one of their
Abyssinian Majesties pleaded not being able to contribute towards
sending for a new Abuna, because he had spent all his money at
Venice in looking-glasses?  And do you really think that Peter
Paez was a Jack-of-all-trades, and built palaces and convents
without assistance, and furnished them with his own hands?  You,
who are a little apt to contest most assertions, must have
strangely let out your credulity!(692)  I could put forty
questions to you as wonderful; and, for my part, could as soon
credit * * * *.

I am tired of railing at French barbarity and folly.  They are
more puerile now serious, than -when in the long paroxysm of gay
levity.  Legislators, a senate, to neglect laws, in order to
annihilate coats of arms and liveries! to pull down a King, and
set up an Emperor!  They are hastening to establish the tribunal
of the praetorian guards; for the sovereignty, it seems, is not
to be hereditary.  One view of their F`ete of the 14th,(693) I
suppose, is to draw money to Paris; and the consequence will be,
that the deputies will return to the provinces drunk with
independence and self-importance, and will commit fifty times
more excesses, massacres, and devastations, than last year.
George Selwyn says, that Monsieur, the King's brother, is the
only man of rank from whom they cannot take a title.(694)

How franticly have the French acted, and how rationally the
Americans! But Franklin and Washington were great men.  None have
appeared yet in France; and Necker has only returned to make a
wretched figure!  He is become as insignificant as his King; his
name is never mentioned, but now and then as disapproving
something that is done.  Why then does he stay?  Does he wait to
strike some great stroke, when every thing is demolished?  His
glory, which consisted in being minister though a Protestant, is
vanished by the destruction of popery; the honour of which, I
suppose, he will scarce assume to himself.  I have vented my
budget, and now good night! I feel almost as if I could walk up
to bed.

(692 Though Bruce's work was attacked at the time by the critics
with much virulence, his statements have been more or less
confirmed by Salt, Burckhardt, Wit-an, Clarke, Belzoni, and other
distinguished travellers.  Bruce never replied to any of his
opponents; but sometimes said to his daughter, that he hoped she
would live to see the time when the truth of what he had written
would be established.  He lost his life in April 1794, in
consequence of an accidental slip of his foot, while handing a
lady down stairs to her carriage.  A second edition of his
Travels was published in 1805, by Dr.  Alexander Murray, from a
copy which the traveller had himself prepared for the press.-E.

(693) The grand federation in the Champ de Mar, on the
anniversary of the taking of the Bastille, thus described by M.
Thiers:--"A magnificent amphitheatre, formed at the further
extremity, was destined for the national authorities.  The King
and the president sat beside one another on similar seats.
Behind the King was an elevated balcony for the Queen and the
court.  The ministers were at some distance before from the King,
and the deputies ranged on either side.  Four hundred thousand
spectators occupied the lateral amphitheatres.  Sixty thousand
armed federalists performed their evolutions in the intermediate
space; and in the centre, upon a base twenty-five feet high,
stood the altar of the country.  Three hundred priests, in white
surplices and tricoloured scarfs, covered the steps, and were to
officiate.  The Bishop of Anton" [afterwards Prince Talleyrand]
began the mass.  Divine service over, La Fayette received the
orders of the King, who handed to him the form of the oath.  La
Fayette carried it to the altar.  At this moment all the banners
waved, every sabre glistened.  The general the army, the
president, the deputies cried 'I swear it.' The King, standing,
with his hand outstretched towards the altar, said 'I King of the
French, swear,' etc.  At this moment., the Queen, moved by the
general emotion, clasped in her arms the august child, the heir
to the throne, and, from the balcony, showed him to the assembled
nation.  At this moment shouts of joy, attachment 'enthusiasm,
were addressed to the mother and the child, and all hearts were
hers." History of the Revolution, vol. i. p. 155.-E.

(694) On the 20th of Julio, a decree, that the titles of duke,
count, marquis, viscount, baron, and chevalier should be
suppressed, had been carried in the National Assembly by a large
majority.-E.



Letter 352 To Miss Berry.
Strawberry Hill, Saturday night, July 3, 1790. (page 450)

How kind to write the very moment you arrived!  but pray do not
think that, welcome as your letters are, I would purchase them at
the price of any fatigue to you-a proviso I put in already
against moments when you may be more weary than by a journey to
Lymington.  You make me happy by the good accounts of Miss Agnes;
and I should be completely so, if the air of the sea could be so
beneficial to you both, as to make your farther journey
unnecessary to your healths, at least for some time; for--and I
protest solemnly that not a personal thought enters into the
consideration--I shall be excessively alarmed at your going to
the Continent.  when such a frenzy has seized it.  You see by the
papers, that the flame has burst out at Florence: can Pisa then
be secure?  Flanders can be no safe road; and is any part of
France so?  I told you in my last of the horrors at Avignon.  At
Madrid the people are riotous against the war with us, and
prosecuted I am persuaded it will not be; but the demon of Gaul
is busy every where.  The Etats, who are as foolish as atrocious,
have printed lists of the surnames which the late noblesse are to
assume or resume; as if people did not know their own names.  I
like a speech I have heard of the Queen.  She went with the King
to see the manufacture of glass, and, as they passed the Halles,
the poissardes huzzaed them; "Upon my word," said the Queen,
"these folks are civiler when you visit them, than when they
visit you." This marked both spirit and good -humour.  For my
part, I am so shocked at French barbarity, that I begin to think
that our hatred of them is not national prejudice, but natural
instinct; as tame animals are born with an antipathy to beasts of
prey.

Mrs. Damer tells me in a letter to-day, that Lady Ailesbury was
charmed with you both (which did not surprise either of us); and
she never saw two persons have so much taste for the country, who
have no place of their Own.  It may be so; but begging her
ladyship's pardon and yours, I think that people who have a place
of their own, are mighty apt not to like any other.

I feel all the kindness at your determination of coming to
Twickenham in August, and shall certainly say no more against it,
though I am certain that I shall count every day that passes; and
when they are passed, they will leave a melancholy impression on
Strawberry, that I had rather have affixed to London.  The two
last summers were infinitely the pleasantest I ever passed here,
for I never before had an agreeable neighbourhood.  Still I loved
the place, and had no comparisons to draw.  Now, the
neighbourhood will remain, and will appear ten times worse; with
the aggravation of remembering two months that may have some
transient roses, but I am sure, lasting thorns.  You tell me I do
not write with my usual spirits: at least I will suppress, as
much as I can, the want of them, though I am a bad
dissembler.(695)

You do not mention the cathedral at Winchester, which I have
twice seen and admired; nor do you say any thing of Bevismount
and Netley--charming Netley! At Lyndhurst you passed the palatial
hovel of my royal nephew; who I have reason to wish had never
been so, and did all I could to prevent his being.

The week before last I met the Marlboroughs at Lady Di's.  The
Duchess(696) desired to come and see Strawberry again, as it had
rained the whole time she was here last.  I proposed the next
morning: no, she could not: she expected company to dinner; she
believed their brother, Lord Robert(697) would dine with them: I
thought that a little odd, as they had Just turned him out for
Oxfordshire; and I thought a dinner no cause at the distance of
four miles.  In her grace's dawdling way, she could fix no time:
and so on Friday, at half an hour after seven, as I was going to
Lady North's, they arrived; and the sun being setting, and the
moon not risen, You may judge how much they could see through all
the painted glass by twilight.

(695) In a letter written in this month to Walpole, Miss More
asks, "Where and how are the Berrys?  I hope they are within
reach of your great chair, if you are confined, and of your
airings, if you go abroad.  I hate their going to Yorkshire: as
Hotspur Says, 'What do they do in the north, when they ought to
be in the south?", Memoirs, vol.ii. p. 235.-E.

(696) Lady Caroline Russell; married, in 1762, to the Duke of
Marlborough.

(697) Lord Robert Spencer, brother of the Duke of Marlborough.



Letter 353 To The Hon. H. S. Conway.
Strawberry Hill, August 9, at night, 1790. (page 452)

MR. NICHOLLS has offered to be postman to you; whereof, though I
have nothing, or as little as nothing, to say, I thought as how,
it would look kinder to send nothing in writing than by word of
mouth.

Nothing the first.  So the peace is made, and the stocks drank
its health in a bumper; but when they waked the next morning,
they found they had reckoned without their host, and that their
majesties the King of big Britain and the King of little Spain
have agreed to make peace some time or other, if they can agree
upon it; and so the stocks drew in their horns: but, having great
trust in some time or other, they only fell two pegs lower.  I,
who never believed there would be war, keep my prophetic stocks
up to par, and my consolation still higher; for when Spanish
pride truckles, and English pride has had the honour of bullying,
I dare to say we shall be content with the ostensible triumph, as
Spain will be with some secret article that will leave her much
where she was before.  Vide Falkland's Island.

Nothing the second.  Miss Gunning's match with Lord Blandford.
You asserted it so peremptorily, that, though I doubted it, I
quoted you.  Lo! it took its rise solely in poor old Bedford's
dotage, that still harps on conjunctions copulative, but now
disavows it, as they say, on a remonstrance from her daughter.

Nothing the third.  Nothing will come of nothing, says King Lear,
and your humble servant.



Letter 354 To The Earl Of Strafford.
Strawberry Hill, August 12, 1790. (page 452)

I must not pretend any longer, my dear lord, that this region is
void of news and diversions.  Oh! we can innovate as well as
neighbouring nations.  If an Earl Stanhope, though he cannot be a
tribune, is ambitious of being a plebeian, he may without law be
as vulgar as heart can wish; and, though we have not a national
assembly to lay the axe to the root of nobility, the peerage have
got a precedent for laying themselves in the kennel.  Last night
the Earl of Barrymore was so humble as to perform a buffoon-dance
and act Scaramouch in a pantomime at Richmond for the benefit of
Edwin, Jun.  the comedian:(698)  and I, like an old fool, but
calling myself a philosopher that loves to study human nature in
all its disguises, went to see the performance.

Mr. Gray thinks that some Milton or some Cromwell may be lost to
the world under the garb of a ploughman.  Others may suppose that
some excellent jack-pudding may lie hidden under red velvet and
ermine.  I cannot say that by the experiment of last night the
latter hypothesis has been demonstrated, any more than the
inverse proposition in France, where, though there seem to be
many as bloody-minded rascals as Cromwell, I can discover none of
his abilities.(699)  They have settled nothing like a
constitution; on the contrary, they seem to protract every thing
but violence, as much as they can, in order to keep their Louie a
day, which is more than two-thirds of the Asset they perhaps ever
saw in a month.  I do not love legislators that pay themselves so
amply! They might have had as good a constitution as twenty-four
millions of people could comport.  As they have voted an army of
an hundred and fifty thousand men, I know what their constitution
will be, after passing through a civil war.  In short, I detest
them: they have done irreparable injury to liberty, for no
monarch will ever summon `etats again; and all the real service
that will result from their fury will be, that every King in
Europe, for these twenty, or perhaps thirty years to come, will
be content with the prerogative he has.  without venturing to
augment it.

The Empress of Russia has thrashed the King of Sweden; and the
King of Sweden has thrashed the Empress of Russia.  I am more
glad that both are beaten than that either is victorious ; for I
do not, like our newspapers, and such admirers, fall in love with
heroes and heroines who make war without a glimpse of
provocation.  I do like our makincy peace, whether we had
provocation or not.  I am forced to deal in European news, my
dear lord, for I have no homespun.  I don't think my whole
inkhorn could invent another paragraph; and therefore I will take
my leave, with (your lordship knows) every kind wish for your
health and happiness.(700)

(698) In the following month "The Follies of a Day" was performed
at Lord Barrymore's private theatre, at Wergrave.  "His lordship,
in the character of the gardener," according to the newspapers,
"was highly comic, and his humour was not overstrained: the whole
concluded with a dance, in which was introduced a favourite pas
Russe, by Lord Barrymore and Mr. Delpini, which kept the theatre
in a roar."-E.

(699) Gibbon, in a letter written a few months before from
Lausanne to Lord Sheffield, makes the following reflections:--
"The French nation had a glorious opportunity, but they have
abused and may lose their advantages.  If they had been content
with a liberal translation of our system, if they had respected
the prerogatives of the crown and the privileges of the nobles,
they might have raised a solid fabric on the only true
foundation, the natural aristocracy of a great country.  How
different is the prospect!  Their King brought a captive to
Paris, after his palace had been stained with the blood of his
guards; the nobles in exile; the clergy plundered in a way which
strikes at the root of all property; the capital an independent
republic; the union of the provinces dissolved; the flames of
discord kindled by the worst of men, and the honestest of the
Assembly a set of wild visionaries.  As yet there is no symptom
of a great man, a Richelieu or a Cromwell, arising either to
restore the monarchy, or to lead the commonwealth."-E.

(700) This appears to have been the last letter addressed by
Walpole to the Earl of Strafford.  His lordship died at Wentworth
Castle, on the 10th of March following, in his seventy-ninth
year.-E.



Letter 355 To Sir David Dalrymple.(701)
Strawberry Hill, Sept. 21, 1790. (page 454)

So many years, Sir, have elapsed since I saw Burleigh, that I
cannot in general pretend to recollect the pictures Well.  I do
remember that there was a surfeit of pieces by Luca Jordano, and
Carlo Dolce, no capital masters, and posterior to the excellent.
The Earl of Exeter, who resided long at Rome in the time of those
two painters, seemed to have employed them entirely during his
sojourn there.  I was not struck more than you, Sir, with the
celebrated Death of Seneca, though one of the best works of
Jordano.  Perhaps Prior's verses lifted it to part of its fame,
though even those verses are inferior to many of that charming
poet's compositions.  Upon the whole, Burleigh is a noble palace,
contains many fine things, and the inside court struck me with
admiration and reverence.  The Shakspeare Gallery is truly most
inadequate to its prototypes but how should it be worthy of them!
If we could recall the brightest luminaries of painting, could
they do justice to Shakspeare? Was Raphael himself as great a
genius in his art as the author of Macbeth? and who could draw
Falstaffe, but the writer of Falstaffe? I am entirely of your
opinion, Sir, that two of Northcote's pictures, from King John
and Richard the Third, are at the head of the collection.  In
Macklin's Gallery of Poets and Scripture, there are much better
pictures than at Boydell's.  Opie's Jephthah's Vow is a truly
fine performance, and would be so in any assemblage of paintings;
as Sir Joshua's Death of Beaufort is worthy of none: the Imp is
burlesque, and the Cardinal seems terrified at him as before him,
when the Imp is behind him.  In Sir Thomas Hanmer's edition there
is a print that gives the fact simply, pathetically, and with
dignity, and just as you wish it told.

My sentiments on French politics concur as much with yours as
they do on subjects above.  The National Assembly set out too
absurdly and extravagantly, not to throw their country into the
last confusion; which is not the way of correcting a government,
but more probably of producing a worse, bad as the old was, and
thence they will have given a lasting wound to liberty: for what
king will ever call `Etats again, if he can possibly help it! The
new legislators were pedants, not politicians, when they
announced the equality of all men.  We are all born so, no doubt,
abstractedly; and physically capable of being kept so, were it
possible to establish a perfect government, and give the same
education to all men.  But are they so in the present
constitution of society, under a bad government, where most have
had no education at all, but have been debased, brutified, by a
long train and mixture of superstition and oppression, and
witnesses to the luxury and vices of their superiors, which they
could only envy and not enjoy? It was turning tigers loose; and
the degradation of the nobility pointed out the prey.  Could it
be expected that savages so hallooed on to outrage and void of
any notions of reciprocal"duties and obligations, would fall into
a regular system of' acting as citizens under the government of
reason and justice? It was tearing all the bonds of society,
which the experience of mankind had taught them were necessary to
the mutual convenience of all; and no provision, no security, was
made for those who were levelled, and who, though they enjoyed
what they had by the old constitution, were treated, or were
exposed to be treated, as criminals.  They have been treated so:
several have been butchered; and the National Assembly dare not
avenge them, as they should lose the favour of the intoxicated
populace.  That conduct was senseless, or worse.  With no less
folly did they seek to expect that a vast body of men, more
enlightened, at least, than the gross multitude, would sit down
in patience under persecution and deprivation of all they valued;
I mean the nobility and clergy, who might be stunned, but Were
sure of reviving and of burning with vengeance.  The insult was
the greater, as the subsequent conduct of the National Assembly
has proved more shamefully dishonest, in their paying themselves
daily more than two-thirds of them ever saw perhaps in a month;
and that flagitious self-bestowed stipend, as it is void of all
patriotic integrity, will destroy their power too; for, if
constitution-making is so lucrative a trade, others will wish to
share in the plunder of their country too; and, even without a
civil war, I am persuaded the present Assembly will neither be
septennial, nor even triennial.

(701) Now first collected.



Letter 356 To The Miss Berrys.
Sunday, Oct. 10, 1790, The day of your departure. (page 455)

Is it possible to write to my beloved friends, and refrain from
speaking of my grief for losing you; though it is but the
continuation of what I have felt ever since I was stunned by your
intention Of going abroad this autumn? Still I will not tire YOU
With it Often.  In happy days I smiled, and called you my dear
wives--now I can only think on you as darling children of whom I
am bereaved! As such I have loved and do love You; and, charming
as you both are, I have had no Occasion to remind myself that I
am Past seventy-three.  Your hearts, your understandings, your
virtues, and the cruel injustice of your fate,(702) have
interested me in every thing that concerns you; and so far from
having occasion to blush for any unbecoming weakness, I am proud
of my affection for you, and very proud of your condescending to
pass so many hours with a very old man, when every body admires
you, and the most insensible allow that your good sense and
information (I speak of both) have formed you to Converse with
the most intelligent of our sex as well as your own; and neither
can tax you with airs of pretension or affectation.  Your
simplicity and natural ease set off all your other merits-all
these graces are lost to me, alas! when I have no time to lose.

Sensible as I am to my loss, it will occupy but part of my
thoughts, till I know you are safely landed, and arrived safely
at Turin.  Not till you are there, and I learn so, will my
anxiety subside, and settle into steady, selfish sorrow.  I
looked at every weathercock as I came along the road to-day, and
was happy to see every one point northeast.  May they do so
to-morrow!

I found here the frame for Wolsey, and to-morrow morning Kirgate
will place him in it; and then I shall begin pulling the little
parlour to pieces, that it may be hung anew to receive him.  I
have also obeyed Miss Agnes, though with regret; for, on trying
it, I found her Arcadia(703) would fit the place of the picture
she condemns, which shall therefore be hung in its room; though
the latter should give Way to nothing else, nor shall be laid
aside, but shall hang where I shall see it almost as often.  I
long to hear that its dear paintress is well; I thought her not
at all so last night.  You will tell me the truth, though she in
her own case, and in that alone, allows herself mental
reservation.

Forgive me for writing nothing to-night but about you two and
myself.  Of what can I have thought else? I have not spoken to a
single person but my own servants since we parted last night.

I found a message here from Miss Howe(704) to invite me for this
evening--do you think I have not preferred staying at home to
write to you, as this Must go to London to-morrow morning by the
coach to be ready for Tuesday's post!  My future letters shall
talk of other things, whenever I know any thing worth repeating;
or perhaps any trifle, for I am determined to forbid myself
lamentations that would weary you; and the frequency of my
letters will prove there is no forgetfulness.  If I live to see
you again, you will then judge whether I am changed; but a
friendship so rational and so pure as mine is, and so equal for
both, is not likely to have any of the fickleness of youth, when
it has none of its other ingredients.  It was a sweet consolation
to the short time that I may have left, to fall into such a
society; no wonder then that I am unhappy at that consolation
being abridged.  I pique myself on no philosophy but what a long
use and knowledge of the world had given me-the philosophy of
indifference to most persons and events.  I do pique myself on
not being ridiculous at this very late period of my life; but
when there is not a grain of passion in my affection for you two,
and when you both have the good sense not to be displeased at my
telling you so, (though I hope you would have despised me for the
contrary,) I am not ashamed to say that your loss is heavy to me;
and that I am only reconciled to it by hoping that a winter in
Italy, and the journeys and sea air, will be very beneficial to
two constitutions so delicate as yours.  Adieu! my dearest
friends it would be tautology to subscribe a name to a letter,
every line of which would suit no other man in the world but the
writer.

(702) This alludes to Miss Berry's father having been
disinherited by an uncle, to whom he was heir at law, and a large
property left to his younger brother.-M.B.

(703) A drawing by Miss Agnes Berry.

(704) Julia Howe, an unmarried sister of Admiral Earl Howe, who
lived at Richmond.



Letter 357 To The Miss Berrys.
Sunday, Oct. 31, 1790. (page 457)

Perhaps I am unreasonably impatient, and expect letters before
they can come.  I expected a letter from Lyons three days ago,
though Mrs. Damer told me I should not have one till to-morrow.
I have got one to-day; but alas! from Pougues only, eleven and a
half posts short of Lyons!  Oh! may Mrs. Damer prove in the right
to-morrow! Well! I must be happy for the past; and that you had
such delightful weather, and but one little accident to your
carriage.  We have had equal summer till Wednesday last, when it
blew a hurricane.  I said to it, "Blow, blow, thou winter wind, I
don't mind you now!" but I have not forgotten Tuesday the 12th;
and now I hope it will be as calm as it is to-day on Wednesday
next, when Mrs. Damer is to sail.(705)  I was in town on Thursday
and Friday, and so were her parents, to take our leaves; as we
did on Friday night, supping all at Richmond-house.  She set out
yesterday morning, and I returned hither.  I am glad you had the
amusement of seeing the National Assembly.  Did Mr. Berry find it
quite so august as he intended it should be?  Burke's pamphlet is
to appear to-morrow, and Calonne has published a thumping one of
four hundred and forty pages.(706)  I have but begun it, for
there is such a quantity of calculations, and one is forced to
bait so often to boil milliards of livres down to a rob of pounds
sterling, that my head is only filled with figures instead of
arguments, and I understand arithmetic less than logic.

Our war still hangs by a hair, they say; and that this
approaching week must terminate its fluctuations.  Brabant, I am
told, is to be pacified by negotiations at the Hague.  Though I
talk like a newspaper, I do not assume their airs, nor give my
intelligence of any sort for authentic, unless when the Gazette
endorses the articles.  Thus, Lord Louvain is made Earl of
Beverley, and Lord Earl of Digby; but in no Gazette, though still
in the Songs of Sion, do I find that Miss Gunning is a
marchioness.  It is not that I suppose you care who gains a step
in the aristocracy; but I tell you these trifles to keep you au
courant, and that at your return you may not make only a baronial
curtsey, when it should be lower by two rows of ermine to some
new-hatched countess.  This is all the, news-market furnishes.
Your description of the National Assembly and of the Champ de
Mars were both admirable; but the altar of boards and canvass
seems a type of their perishable constitution, as their
air-balloons were before.  French visions are generally full of
vapour, and terminate accordingly.  I have been at Mrs.
Grenville's(707) this evening, who had a small party for the
Duchess of Gloucester: there were many inquiries after my wives.

(705) Mrs. Damer was going to pass the winter at Lisbon, on
account of her health.

(706) This was his "Lettre sur l'`Etat de la France, pr`esent et
`a venir;" of which a translation appeared in the following
year.-E.


(707) Margaret Banks, widow Of the Hon. Henry Grenville, who died
in 1784.  Their only daughter was married, in 1781, to Viscount
Mahon, afterwards Earl Stanhope.



Letter 358 To The Miss Berrys
Park-place, Nov. 8, 1790. (page 458)

No letter since Pougues! I think you can guess how uneasy I am!
It is not the fault of the wind; which has blown from every
quarter.  To-day I cannot hear, for no post comes in on Mondays.
What can have occasioned my receiving no letters from Lyons,
when, on the 18th of last month, you were within twelve posts of
it? I am now sorry I came hither, lest by change of place a
letter may have shuttlecocked about, and not have known where to
find me; and yet I left orders with Kirgate to send it after me,
if one came to Strawberry on Saturday.  I return thither
to-morrow, but not till after the post is come in here.  I am
writing to you now, while the company are walked out, to divert
my impatience; which, however, is but a bad recipe, and not
exactly the way to put YOU Out Of my head.

The first and great piece of news is the pacification with Spain.
The courier arrived on Thursday morning with a most acquiescent
answer to our ultimatum: what that was I do not know, nor much
care.  Peace contents me, and for my part I shall not haggle
about the terms.  I have a good general digestion, and it is not
a small matter that will lie at my stomach when I have no hand in
dressing the ingredients.

The pacification of Brabant is likely to be volume the second.
The Emperor, and their majesties of Great Britain and Prussia,
and his Serene Highness the Republic of Holland have sent a card
to his turbulent Lowness of Brabant, and* they allow him but
three weeks to submit to his old sovereign: on promise of a
general pardon -or the choice of threescore thousand men ready to
march without a pardon.

The third volume, expected, but not yet in the press, is a
counterrevolution in France.  Of that I know nothing but rumour;
yet it certainly is not the most incredible event that rumour
ever foretold.  In this country the stock of the National
Assembly IS fallen down to bankruptcy.  Their only renegade,
aristocrat Earl Stanhope, has, with D. W. Russel, scratched his
name out of the Revolution Club; but the fatal blow has been at
last given by Mr. Burke.  His pamphlet(708) came out this day
se'nnight, and is far superior to what was expected, even by his
warmest admirers.  I have read it twice; and though of three
hundred and fifty pages, I wish I could repeat every page by
heart.  It is sublime, profound, and gay.  The wit and satire are
equally brilliant; and the whole is wise, though in some points
he goes too far: yet in general there is far less want of
judgment than could be expected from him.  If it could be
translated,--which, from the wit and metaphors and allusions, is
almost impossible,--I should think it would be a classic book in
all countries, except in present France.(709)  To their tribunes
it speaks daggers though, unlike them, it uses none.  Seven
thousand copies have been taken off by the booksellers already,
and a new edition is preparing.  I hope you will see it soon.
There ends my gazette.

There is nobody here at present but Mrs. Hervey, Mrs. E. Hervey,
and Mrs. Cotton: but what did I find on Saturday?  Why, the
Prince of Furstemberg,(710) his son, and son's governor!  I was
ready to turn about and go back: but they really proved not at
all unpleasant.  The ambassador has not the least German
stiffness or hauteur; is extremely civil, and so domestic a man,
that he talked comfortably of his wife and eight children, and of
his fondness for them.  He understands English, though he does
not speak it.  The son, a good-humoured lad of fifteen, seems
well-informed: the governor, a middle-aged officer, speaks
English so perfectly, that even by his accent I should not have
discovered him for a foreigner.  They stayed all night, and went
to Oxford next morning before I rose.

November 9th, at night.

This morning, before I left Park-place, I had the relief and joy
of receiving your letter of October 24, from Lyons.  It would
have been still more welcome, if dated from Turin; but, as you
have met with no impediments so far, I trust you got out of
France as well as through it.  I do hope, too, that Miss Agnes is
better, as you say; but when one is very anxious about a person,
credulity does not take long strides in proportion.  I am not
surprised at your finding voiturins, or any body, or any thing,
dearer: where all credit and all control are swept away, every
man will be a tyrant in proportion to his necessities and his
strength.  Societies were invented to temperate force: but it
seems force was liberty, and much good may it do the French with
being delivered from every thing but violence!--which I believe
they will soon taste pro and con.! You may make me smile by
desiring me to continue my affection.  Have I so much time left
for inconstancy? For threescore years and ten I have not been
very fickle in my friendship: in all these years I never found
such a pair as you and your sister.  Should I meet with a
superior pair,-but they must not be deficient in any one of the
qualities which I find in you two,-why, Perhaps, I may change;
but, with that double mortgage on my affections, I do not think
you are in much danger of losing them.  You shall have timely
notice if a second couple drops out of the clouds and falls in my
way.

(708) The far-famed "Reflections on the Revolution in France;" of
which about thirty thousand copies were sold in a comparatively
short space of time.-E.

(709) A French translation, by M. Dupont, shortly after made its
appearance, and spread the reputation of the work over all
Europe.  The Emperor of Germany, Catherine of Russia, and the
French Princes transmitted to Mr. Burke their warm approbation of
it, and the unfortunate Stanislaus of Poland sent him his
likeness on a gold medal.-E.

(710) The Landgrave of Furstemberg had been sent from the Emperor
Leopold to notify his being elected King of the Romans, and his
subsequent coronation as Emperor of Germany.-E.



Letter 359 To Miss Berry.
November 11, 1790. (page 460)

I had a letter from Mrs. Damer at Falmouth.  She suffered much by
cold and fatigue, and probably sailed on Saturday evening last,
and may be at Lisbon by this time, as you, I trust, are in Italy.
Mr. Burke's pamphlet has quite turned Dr. Price's head.  He got
upon a table at their club, toasted to our Parliament becoming a
National Assembly, and to admitting no more peers of their
assembly, having lost the only one they had.  They themselves are
very like the French `Etats: two more members got on the table
(their pulpit), and broke it down: so be it!

The Marquisate(711) is just where it was--to be and not to be.
The Duchess of Argyll is said to be worse.  Della Crusca(712) has
published a poem, called "The Laurel of Liberty," which, like the
Enrag`es, has confounded and overturned all ideas.  There are
gossamery tears and silky oceans--the first time, to be sure,
that any body ever cried cobwebs, or that the sea was made of
paduasoy.(713)  There is, besides, a violent tirade against a
considerable personage, who, it is supposed, the author was
jealous of, as too much favoured a few years ago by a certain
Countess.  You may guess why I am not more explicit: for the same
reason I beg YOU not to mention it at all; it would be
exceedingly improper.  As the Parliament will meet in a
fortnight, and the town be plumper, my letters may grow more
amusing; though, unless the weather grows worse, I shall not
contribute my leanness to its embonpoint.  Adieu!

(711) Meaning the reported marriage of Miss Gunning to the
Marquis of Blandford.-B.

(712) Robert Merry, Esq. who, at this time, wrote in the
newspapers under this signature, and thereby became the object of
the caustic satire of the author of the Baviad and Maviad--

"Lo, Della Crusca in his closet pent,
He toils to give the crude conception vent
Abortive thoughts, that right and wrong confound,
Truth sacrific'd to letters, sense to sound;
False glare, incongruous images combine,
And noise and nonsense chatter through the line."-E.

(713) Besides the above, Mr. Gifford instances, from the same
poem, "moody monarchs, radiant rivers, cooling cataracts, lazy
Loires, gay Garonnes, glossy glass, mingling murder, dauntless
day, lettered lightnings, delicious dilatings, sinking sorrows,
real reasoning, meliorating mercies, dewy vapours damp that sweep
the silent swamps, etc. etc."-E.



Letter 360 To The Miss Berrys.
Strawberry Hill, Thursday, Nov. 18, 1790. (page 461)

On Tuesday morning, after my letter was gone to the post, I
received yours of the 2d (as I have all the rest) from Turin, and
it gave me very little of the joy I had so much meditated to
receive from a letter thence.  And why did not it?-because I had
got one on Saturday, which anticipated and augmented all the
satisfaction I had allotted for Turin.  You will find my
Tuesday's letter, if ever you receive it, intoxicated with
Chamberry; for which, and all your kind punctuality, I give you a
million of thanks.  But how cruel to find that you found none of
my letters at Turin! There ought to have been two at least, of
October the 16th and 19th.  I have since directed one thither of
the 25th; but alas! from ignorance, there was par Paris on none
of them; and the Lord knows at how many little German courts they
may have been baiting! I shall put par Paris on this; but beg you
will tell me, as soon as you can, which route is the shortest and
the safest; that is, by which you are most likely to receive
them.  You do me justice in concluding there has been no
negligence of mine in the case; indeed, I have been ashamed of
the multiplicity of my letters, when I had scarce any thing to
tell you but
my own anxiety to hear of your being quietly settled at Florence,
out of the reach of all commotions.  And how could I but dread
your being molested by some accident, in the present state of
France! and how could your healths mend in bad inns, and till you
can repose somewhere?  Repose you will have at Florence, but I
shall fear the winter for you there: I suffered more by cold
there, than by any place in my life; and never came home at night
without a pain in my breast, which I never felt elsewhere, yet
then I was very young and in perfect health.  If either of you
suffer there in any shape, I hope you will retire to Pisa.

My inquietude, that presented so many alarms to me before you set
out, has, I find, and am grieved for it, not been quite in the
Wrong.  Some inconveniences I am persuaded you have sunk: yet the
difficulty of landing at Dieppe, and the ransack of your poor
harmless trunks at Bourgoin, and the wretched lodgings with which
you were forced to take up at Turin, count deeply with me: and I
had much rather have lost all credit as a prophet, since I could
not prevent your journey.  May it answer for your healths! I
doubt it will not in any other respect, as you have already found
by the voiturins.  In point of pleasure, is it possible to divest
myself so radically of all self-love as to wish you may find
Italy as agreeable as you di formerly?  In all other lights, I do
most fervently hope there will he no drawbacks on your plan.
Should you be disappointed in any way, you know what a warm heart
is open to receive you back; and so will your own Cliveden(714)
be too.

I am glad you met the Bishop of Arras,(715) and am much pleased
that he remembers me.  I saw him very frequently at my dear old
friend's,.(716) and liked him the best of all Frenchmen I ever
knew.  He is extremely sensible, easy, lively, and void of
prejudices.  Should he fall in your way again, I beg you will
tell him how sincere a regard I have for him.  He lived in the
strictest union with his brother, the Archbishop of Tours, whom I
was much less acquainted with, nor know if he be living.

I have heard nothing since my Tuesday's letter.  As I still hope
its predecessors will reach you, I will not repeat the trifling
scraps of news I have sent you in them.  In fact, this is only a
trial whether par Paris is a better passport than a direction
without it; but I am grievously sorry to find difficulty of
correspondence superadded to the vexation of losing you.  Writing
to you was grown my chief occupation.  I wish.  Europe and its
broils were in the East Indies, if they embarrass us quiet folks,
who have nothing to do with their squabbles.  The Duchess of
Gloucester, who called on me yesterday, charged me to give her
compliments to you both.  Miss Foldson(717) has not yet sent me
your pictures: I was in town on Monday, and sent to reproach her
with having twice broken her promise; her mother told my servant
that Miss was at Windsor, drawing the Queen and Princesses.  That
is not the work of a Moment.  I am glad all the Princes are not
on the spot.

I think of continuing here till the weather grows very bad; which
it has not been at all yet, though not equal to what I am
rejoiced you have found.  I have no Somerset or Audley-street to
receive me: Mrs. Damer is gone too.  The Conways remain at
Park-place till after Christmas; It is entirely out of fashion
for women to grow old and stay at home in an evening.  They
invite you, indeed, now and then, but do not expect to see you
till near midnight; which is rather too late to begin the day,
unless one was born but twenty years ago.  I do not condemn any
fashions, which the young ought to set, for the old certainly
ought not; but an oak that has been going on in its old way for
an hundred years, cannot shoot into a May-pole in three years,
because it is the mode to plant Lombardy poplars.

What I should have suffered, if your letters, like mine, had
wandered through Germany!  I, you was sure, had written, and was
in no danger.  Dr. Price, who had whetted his ancient talons last
year to no purpose, has had them all drawn by Burke, and the
Revolution Club is as much exploded as the Cock-lane Ghost; but
you, in order to pass a quiet winter in Italy, would pass through
a fiery furnace.  Fortunately, you have not been singed, and the
letter from Chamberry has composed all my panics, but has by no
means convinced me that I was not perfectly in the right to
endeavour to keep you at home.  One does not put one's hand in
the fire to burn off a hangnail; and, though health is
delightful, neither of you were out of order enough to make a
rash experiment.  I Would not be so absurd as to revert to old
arguments, that happily proved no prophecies, if my great anxiety
about you did not wish, in time, to persuade you to return
through Switzerland and Flanders, if the latter is pacified and
France is not; of which I see no likelihood.

Pray forgive me, if parts of my letters are sometimes tiresome;
but can I appear only always cheerful when you two are absent,
and have another long journey to make, ay, and the sea to cross
again?  My fears cannot go to sleep like a paroli at faro till
there is a new deal, in which even then I should not be sure of
winning.  If I see you again, I will think I have gained another
milleleva, as I literally once did; with this exception, that I
was vehemently against risking a doit at the game of travelling.
Adieu!

(714) Little Strawberry Hill, which he had then thus named.

(715) M. de Conzies.  This amiable prelate declined, in 1801, the
Parisian archiepiscopacy, proffered him by Buonaparte, and died
in London, in December 1804, in the arms of Monsieur, afterwards
Charles the Tenth.-E.

(716) Madame du Deffand.

)717 Afterwards Mrs. Mee.



Letter 361 To The Miss Berrys.
Strawberry Hill, Friday night, Nov. 27, 1790. (page 463)

I am waiting for a letter from Florence, not with perfect
patience, though I could barely have one, even if you did arrive,
as you intended, on the 12th; but twenty temptations might have
occurred to detain you in that land of eye and ear sight; my
chief eagerness is to learn that you have received at least some
of my letters.  I wish too to know, though I cannot yet, whether
you would have me direct Par Paris, or as I did before.  In this
state of uncertainty I did not prepare this to depart this
morning; nor, though the Parliament met yesterday, have I a
syllable of news for you, as there will be no debate till all the
members have been sworn, which takes two or three days.
Moreover, I am still here: the weather, though very rainy, is
quite warm; and I have much more agreeable society at Richmond,
with small companies and better hours, than in town, and shall
have till after Christmas, unless great cold drives me thither.
Lady Di, Selwyn, the Penns, the Onslows, Douglases, Mackinsys,
Keenes, Lady Mount-Edgcumbe, all stay, and Some of them meet
every evening.  The Boufflers too are constantly invited, and the
Comtesse Emilie sometimes carries her harp, on which they say she
plays better than Orpheus; but as I never heard him on earth, nor
chez Proserpine, I do not pretend to decide.  Lord
Fitzwilliam(718) has been here too; but was in the utmost danger
of being lost on Saturday night, in a violent storm between
Calais and Dover, as the captain confessed to him when they were
landed.  Do you think I did not ache at the recollection of a
certain Tuesday when you were sailing to Dieppe?

(718) Richard, seventh and last Viscount Fitzwilliam, the
munificent benefactor to the University of Cambridge.  He died in
1816.-E.



Letter 362 To Miss Agnes Berry.
Strawberry Hill, Sunday, Nov. 29, 1790. (page 464)

Though I write to both at once, and reckon your letters to come
equally from both, yet I delight in seeing your hand with a pen
as well as with a pencil, and you express yourself as well with
the one as with the other.  Your part in that which I have been
so happy as to receive this moment, has singularly obliged me, by
your having saved me the terror of knowing you had a torrent to
cross after heavy rain.  No cat is so afraid of water for
herself, as I am grown to be for you.  That panic, which will
last for many months, adds to my fervent desire of your returning
early in the autumn, that you may have neither fresh water nor
the "silky" ocean to cross in winter.  Precious as our insular
situation is, I am ready to wish with the Frenchman, that you
could somehow or other get to it by land,-- Oui, c'est une isle
toujours, je le sais bien; mais, par exemple, en allant
d'alentour, n'y auroit-il pas moyen d'y arriver par terre?"

Correggio never pleased me in proportion to his fame; his grace
touches upon grimace; the mouth of the beautiful Angel at Parma
curls up almost into a half-moon.  Still I prefer Corregio to the
lourd want of grace in Guereino, who is to me a German edition of
Guido.  I am sorry the bookseller would not let you have an
Otranto.  Edwards told me, above two months ago, that he every
day expected the whole impression; and he has never mentioned it
waiting for my corrections.  I will make Kirgate write to him,
for I have told you that I am still here.  We have had much rain,
but no flood; and yesterday and to-day have exhibited Florentine
skies.

>From town I know nothing; but that on Friday, after the King's
speech, Earl Stanhope made a most frantic speech on the National
Assembly and against Calonne's book, which he wanted to have
taken up for high treason.(719)  He was every minute interrupted
by loud bursts of laughter; which was all the answer he received
or deserved.  His suffragan Price has published a short, sneaking
equivocal answer to Burke, in which he pretends his triumph over
the King of France alluded to July, not to October, though his
sermon was preached in November.  Gredat--but not Judaeus Apella,
as Mr. Burke so wittily says of the assignats.(720)  Mr.
Grenville, the secretary of state, is made a peer, they say to
assist the Chancellor in the House of Lords: yet the papers
pretend the Chancellor is out of humour, and will resign the
first may be true, the latter probably not.(721)

Richmond, my metropolis, flourishes exceedingly.  The Duke of
Clarence arrived at his palace there last night, between eleven
and twelve, as I came from Lady Douglas.  His eldest brother and
Mrs. Fitzherbert dine there to-day with the Duke Of Queensbury,
as his grace, who called here this morning, told me, on the very
spot where lived Charles the First, and where are the portraits
of his principal courtiers from Cornbury.  Queensbury has taken
to that palace at last, and has frequently company and music
there in an evening.  I intend to go.

I suppose none of my Florentine acquaintance are still upon
earth.  The handsomest woman there, of my days, was a Madame
Grifoni, my fair Geraldine: she would now be a Methusalemess, and
much more like a frightful picture I have of her by a one-eyed
German painter.  I lived then with Sir Horace Mann, in Casa
Mannetti in Via de' Santi Apostoli, by the Ponte di Trinit`a.
Pray, worship the works of Masaccio, if any remain; though I
think the best have been burnt in a church.  Raphael himself
borrowed from him.  Fra Bartolomeo, too, is one of my standards
for great ideas; and Benvenuto Cellini's Perseus a rival of the
antique, though Mrs. Damer will not allow it.  Over against the
Perseus is a beautiful small front of a house, with only three
windows, designed by Raphael; and another, I think, near the
Porta San Gallo, and I believe called Casa Panciatici or
Pandolfini.

(719) in the report of Lord Stanbope's speech, as it is given in
the Parliamentary History, there is no expression of a wish that
M. Calonne should be ,taken up for high treason." What the noble
Earl said was, that the assertion that a civil war would meet
with the support of all the crowned heads in Europe was a
scandalous libel on the King of England, and might endanger the
lives of many natives of Scotland and Ireland then residing in
France.-E.

(720) "The Assembly made in their speeches a sort of swaggering
declaration, something, I rather think, above legislative
competence; that is, that there is no difference in value between
metallic money and their assignats.  This was a good, stout proof
article of faith, pronounced under an anathema, by the venerable
fathers of this philosophic synod.  Gredat who will certainly not

Judaeus Apella."-E.

(721) In Mr. Wilberforce's Diary for this year there appears the
following entry:-"Nov- 22.  Dined with Mr. Pitt.  He told me of
Grenville's peerage and the true reasons--distrust of Lord
Thurlow.  Saw Thurlow's answer to the news.  Gave Pitt a serious
word or two." See Life, vol. i. p. 284.-E.



Letter 363 To The Miss Berrys.
Strawberry Hill, Dec. 20, 1790; very late at night. (page 465)

The French packet that was said to be lost on Tuesday last, and
which did hang out signals of distress, was saved, but did not
bring any letters; but three Flemish mails that were due are
arrived, and did bring letters, and, to my inexpressible joy, two
from you of the 22d and 29th of the last month, telling Me that
you have received as far as No.  4 and 5 of mine.  Thank all the
stars in Herschell's telescope, or beyond its reach, that our
correspondence is out of the reach of France and all its ravages!
Thank you a million of times for all your details about
yourselves When even the apprehension of any danger disquiets me
so much, judge whether I do not interest myself in every
particular of your pleasures and amusements! Florence was my
delight, as it is yours but, I don't know how, I wish you did not
like it quite so much and, after the gallery.  how will any
silver-penny of a gallery look?  Indeed, for your Boboli, which I
thought horrible even fifty years ago, before shepherds had seen
the star of taste in the west, and glad tidings were proclaimed
to their flocks, I do think there is not an acre on the banks of
the Thames that should vail the bonnet to it.

Of Mr. Burke's book, if I have not yet told you my opinion, I do
now: that it is one of the finest compositions in print.  There
is reason, logic, wit, truth.  eloquence, and enthusiasm in the
brightest colours.  That it has given a mortal stab to sedition,
I believe and hope; because the fury of the Brabanters,-whom,
however, as having been aggrieved, I pitied and distinguish
totally from the savage Gauls, -and the unmitigated and execrable
injustices of the latter, have made almost any state preferable
to such anarchy and desolation, that increases every day.
Admiring thus, as I do, I am very far from subscribing to the
extent of almost all Mr. Burke's principles.  The work, I have no
doubt, will hereafter be applied to support very high doctrines;
and to you I will say, that I think it an Apocrypha, that, in
many a council of Bishops, will be added to the Old Testament.
Still, such an Almanzor was wanting at this crisis; and his foes
show how deeply they are wounded, by their abusive pamphlets.
Their Amazonian allies, headed by Kate Macaulay(722) and the
virago Barbauld, whom Mr. Burke calls our poissardes, spit their
rage at eighteenpence a head, and will return to Fleet-ditch,
more fortunate in being forgotten than their predecessors,
immortalized in the Dunciad.  I must now bid you good-night; and
night it is, to the tune of morning.  Adieu, all three!

(722) A pamphlet, entitled "Observations on the Reflections of
the Right Hon. Edmund Burke on the Revolution in France; in a
Letter to Earl Stanhope," was attributed to Mrs. Macaulay.-E.



Letter 364 To Miss Berry.
Berkeley Square, Saturday, Jan. 22, 1791. (page 466)

I have been most unwillingly forced to send you such bad accounts
of myself by my two last letters; but, as I could not conceal
all, it was best to tell you the whole truth.  Though I do not
know that there was any real danger, I could not be so blind to
my own age and weakness as not to think that, with so much gout
an fever, the conclusion might very probably be fatal: and
therefore it was better
you should be prepared for what might happen.  The danger appears
to be entirely over: there seems to be no more gout to come.  I
have no fever, have a very good appetite, and sleep well.  Mr.
Watson,(723) who is all tenderness and attention, is persuaded
to-day that I shall recover the use of my left hand ; of which I
despaired much more than of the right, as having been seized
three weeks earlier.  Emaciated and altered I am incredibly, as
you would find were you ever to see me again.  But this illness
has dispelled all visions ; and, as I have little prospect of
passing another happy autumn, I Must wean myself from whatever
would embitter my remaining time by disappointments.

Your No. 15 came two days ago, and gives me the pleasure of
knowing that you both are the better for riding, which I hope you
will continue.  I am glad, too, that you are pleased with your
Duchess of Fleury and your Latin professor: but I own, except
your climate and the six hundred camels, you seem to me to have
met with no treasure which you might not have found here without
going twenty miles: and even the camels, according to Soame
Jenyns' spelling, were to be had from Carrick and other places.

I doubt you apply Tully de Amicitia too favourably: at least, I
fear there is no paragraph that countenances 73 and 27.

Monday, the 24th.

I think I shall give you pleasure by telling you that I am very
sure now of recovering from the present fit.  It has almost
always happened to me, in my considerable fits of the gout, to
have one critical night that celebrates its departure: at the end
of two different fits I each time slept eleven hours.  Morpheus
is not quite so young nor so generous now ; but, with the
interruption of a few minutes, he presented me with eight hours
last night: and thence I shall date my recovery.  I shall now
begin to let in a little company; and, as the Parliament will
meet in a week, my letters will probably not be so dull as they
have been; nor shall I have occasion, nor be obliged, to talk so
much of myself, of which I am sure others must be tired, when I
am so much tired myself.

Tuesday, the 25th.

Old Mrs. French(724) is dead at last, and I am on the point of
losing, or have lost, my oldest acquaintance and friend, George
Selwyn, who was yesterday at the extremity.  These misfortunes,
though they can be so but for a short time, are very sensible to
the old; but him I really loved, not only for his infinite wit,
but for a thousand good qualities.  Lady Cecilia Johnstone was
here yesterday.  I said much for you, and she as much to you.
The Gunnings are still playing the fool, and perhaps somebody
with them; but I cannot tell you the particulars now.  Adieu!

(723) His surgeon.

(724) An Irish lady, who, during the latter part of her life, had
a country house at Hampton Court.



Letter 365 To The Miss Berrys.
Saturday, Jan. 29, 1791. (page 468)

Voici de ma propre `ecriture!  the best proof that I am
recovering, though not rapidly, which is not the march of my time
of life.  For n these last six days I have mended more than I
expected.  My left hand, the first seized, is the most dilatory,
and of which I have least hopes.  The rheumatism, that I thought
so clear and predominant, is so entirely gone, that I now rather
think it was hussar-gout attacking in flying squadrons the
outposts.  No matter which, very ill I was ; and you might see
what I thought of myself: nor can I stand many such victories.
My countenance was so totally altered, that I could not trace it
myself.  Its outlines have returned to their posts, though with
deep gaps.  This is a true picture, and too long an one of self;
and too hideous for a bracelet.  Apropos, your sweet Miss
Foldson, I believe, is painting portraits of all our Princesses,
to be sent to all the Princes upon earth ; for, though I have
sent her several written duns, she has not deigned even to answer
one in writing.  I don't know whether Mrs. Buller is not
appointed Royal Academician too; for, though I desired the
"Charming-man," who was to dine with her that day, to tell her,
above a week ago, that I should be glad to see her, she has not
taken the least notice of it.  Mr. Batt, ditto; who was at
Cambridge's when I was at the worst, and knew so, has not once
inquired after me, in town or country.  So you see you have
carried off your friends from me as well as yourselves: and it is
not them I regret; or rather, in fact, I outlive all my friends!
Poor Selwyn is gone, to my sorrow; and no wonder Ucalegon feels
it!(725)  He has left about thirty thousand pounds to
Mademoiselle Fagniani;(726) twenty of which, if she has no
children, to go to those of Lord Carlisle ; the Duke of
Queensberry residuary legatee.  Old French has died as foolishly
as she lived, and left six thousand pounds to you don't know whom
; but to be raised out of her judicious collection of trumpery
pictures, etc.

Pray, delight in the following story: Caroline Vernon, fille
d'honneur, lost t'other night two hundred pounds at faro, and
babe Martindale mark it up.  He said he had rather have a draft
on her banker.  "oh! willingly;" and she gave him one.  Next
morning he hurried to Drummond's, lest all her money should be
drawn out.  said the clerk, "would you receive the contents
immediately?"  "Assuredly." "why, Sir, have you read the note?"
Martindale took it; it was, "Pay to the bearer two hundred blows,
well applied." The nymph tells the story herself; and yet I think
the clerk had the more humour of the two.

The Gunninghiad(727) draws to a conclusion.  The General, a few
weeks ago, to prove the equality of his daughter to any match,
literally put into the newspapers, that he himself is the
thirty-second descendant in a line from Charlemagne;--oui,
vraiment!  Yet he had better have, like Prior's Madam,

"To cut things short, gone up to Adam,"

However, this Carlovingian hero does not allow that the letters
are forgeries, and rather suspects the novelist, his lady(728)
for the authoress; and if she is, probably Miss Charlemagne is
not quite innocent of the plot: though she still maintains that
her mother-in-law elect did give her much encouragement; which,
considering her grace's conduct about her children, is not the
most incredible part of this strange story.  I have written this
at twice, and will now rest.

Sunday evening.

I wish that complaining of people for abandoning me were an
infallible receipt for bringing them back! but I doubt it will
not do in acute cases.  To-day, a few hours after %writing the
latter part of this, appeared Mr. Batt.  He asked many pardons,
and I easily forgave him; for the mortification was not begun.
He asked much after you both.  I had a crowd of visits besides;
but they all come past two o'clock, and sweep one another away
before any can take root.  My evenings are solitary enough, for I
ask nobody to come; nor, indeed, does any body's evening begin
till I am going to bed.  I have Outlived daylight, as well as my
contemporaries.  What have I not survived?  The Jesuits and the
monarchy of France! and both without a struggle!  Semiramis seems
to intend to add Constantinople to the mass of revolutions ; but
is not her permanence almost as wonderful as the contrary
explosions!  I wish--I wish we may not be actually flippancying
ourselves into an embroil with that Ursa-major of the North Pole.
What a vixen little island are we, if we fight wit the Aurora
Borealis and Tippo Saib at the end of Asia at the same time!
You, damsels, will be like the end of the conundrum, "You've seen
the man who saw the wondrous sights."

Monday evening.

I cannot finish this with my own hand, for the gout has returned
a little into my right arm and wrist, and I am not quite so well
as I was yesterday; but I had said my say, and had little to add.
The Duchess of Gordon, t'other night, coming out of an assembly,
said to Dundas, "Mr. Dundas, you are used to speak in public;
will you call my servant?"

Here I receive your long letter of the 7th, 9th, and 10th, which
it is impossible for me to answer now; there is one part to which
I wish to reply, but must defer till next post, by which time I
hope to have recovered my own pen.  You ask about the house of
Argyll.  You know I have no connexion with them, nor any
curiosity about them.  Their relations and mine have been in town
but four days, so I know little from them: Mrs. Grenville,
to-day, told me the Duke proposes to continue the same life he
used to lead, with a cribbage-table and his family.  Every body
admires the youngest daughter's(729) person and understanding.
Adieu!  I will begin to write again myself as soon as I can.


(725) This celebrated wit and amiable man died on the 25th of
January, in his seventy-second year.  He was member for
Luggershall, surveyor-general of the crown lands, surveyor of the
meltings and clerk of the irons in the Mint; "and," add the
newspapers of the day, "receiver-general of wit and stray jokes."
The following tribute to his memory appeared at the time:--

"If this gay Fav'rite lost, they yet can live,
A tear to Selwyn let the Graces give!
With rapid kindness teach Oblivion's pall
O'er the sunk foibles of the man to fall
And fondly dictate to a faithful Muse
The prime distinction of the Friend they lose:--
'Twas Social Wit; which, never kindling strife,
Blazed in the small, sweet courtesies of life;
Those little sapphires round the diamond shone,
Lending soft radiance to the richer stone."-E.

(726) Married in 1798, to the Earl of Yarmouth; who, in 1822,
succeeded his father as third Marquis of Hertford.-E.

(727) Meaning the strange, imagined history Of a marriage
supposed to have been likely to take place between Miss Gunning
and the Marquis of Blandford.

(728) Mrs. Gunning was a Miss Minifie, of Fairwater,
Somersetshire, and, before her marriage, had published several
popular novels.-E.

(729) Lady Charlotte-Susan-Maria; married, first to Colonel John
Campbell of Islay and, secondly to the Rev. Mr. Bury.-E.



Letter 366 To Miss Berry.
Berkeley Square, Friday, Feb. 4, 1791. (page 470)

Last post I sent you as cheerful a letter, as I could, to
convince you that I was recovering.  This will be less gay; not
because I have had a little return in both arms, but because I
have much more pain in my mind than in my limbs.  I see and thank
you all for the kindness of your intention; but, as it has the
contrary effect from what you expect, I am forced, for my own
peace, to beseech you not to continue a manoeuvre that only
tantalizes and wounds me.  In your last you put together many
friendly words to give me hopes of your return; but can I be' so
blind as not to see that they are vague words? Did you mean to
return in autumn, Would you not say so?  would the most artful
arrangement of words be so kind as those few simple ones? In
fact, I have for some time seen how little you mean it; and, for
your sakes, I cease to desire it.  The pleasure you expressed at
seeing Florence again, forgive me for saying, is the joy of sight
merely; for can a little Italian town, and wretched Italian
company, and travelling English lads and governors, be comparable
to the choice of the best company of so vast a capital as London,
unless you have taken an aversion to England?  And your renewed
transports at a less and still more insipid town, Pisa! These
plainly told me your thoughts, which vague words cannot efface.
You then dropped that you could let your London house till next
Christmas, and then talked of a visit to Switzerland, and since
all this, Mrs. Damer has warned me not to expect YOU till next
Spring.  I shall not; nor do I expect that next spring.  I have
little expected this next! My dearest Madam, I allow all my folly
and Unreasonableness, and give them up and abandon them totally.
I have most impertinently and absurdly tried, for my own sake
merely, to exact from two young ladies, above forty years younger
than myself, a promise of sacrificing their rooted inclinations
to my whims and satisfaction.  But my eyes are opened, my reason
is returned, I condemn myself; and I now make you but one
request, which is, that, though I am convinced it would be with
the most friendly and good-natured meaning possible, I do implore
you not to try to help me to delude myself any more.  You never
know half the shock it gave me when I learned from Mr. Batt, what
you had concealed from me, your fixed resolution of going abroad
last October; and though I did in vain deprecate it,--your coming
to Twickenham in September, which I know, and from my inmost soul
believe, was from mere compassion and kindness to me,-yet it did
aggravate my parting with you.

I would not repeat all this, but to prevail with you, While I do
live, and while you do condescend to have any friendship for me,
never to let me deceive myself.  I have no right to inquire into
your plans, views or designs; and never will question you more
about them.  I shall deserve to be deluded if I do; but what you
do please to say to me, I beg may be frank.  I am, in every
light, too weak to stand disappointment ow: I cannot be
disappointed.  You have a firmness that nothing shakes; and,
therefore, it would be unjust to betray your good-nature into any
degree of insincerity.  You do nothing that is not reasonable and
right; and I am conscious that you bore a thousand times more
from my self-love and vanity, than any other two persons but
yourselves would have supported with patience so long.  Be
assured that what I say I think, feel, and mean; derange none of
your plans for me.  I now wish you take no one step but What is
conformable to your views, interest and satisfaction.  It would
hurt me to interfere with them -.  I reproach myself with having
so ungenerously tried to lay you under any difficulties, and I
approve your resolution in adhering steadily to your point.  Two
posts ago I hinted that I was weaning myself from the anxiety of
an attachment to two persons that must have been so uneasy to
them, and has ended so sorrowfully to myself but that anxiety I
restrict solely to the desire of your return: my friendship, had
I years to live, could not alter or be shaken; and there is no
kind of proof or instance of it that I will not give you both
while I have breath.

I have vented what I had at my heart, and feel relieved.  Do not
take ill a word I have said.  Be assured I can love you as much
as ever I did, and do; and though I am no longer so Unjust as to
prefer my own satisfaction to yours.  Here I drop the subject;
before Tuesday, perhaps, I shall be able to talk on some other.

Monday, 7th.

Though the Parliament is met, and the town they say, full, I have
not heard a tittle of news of any sort; and yet my prison is a
coffeehouse in a morning, though I have been far from well this
whole week.  Yesterday and Saturday the gout was so painful in my
right shoulder, that I could not stoop or turn round.  To-day it
is in my left elbow, and, I doubt, coming into my right foot: in
short, it seems to be going its circle over again.  I am not very
sorry; sufferings reconcile one to parting with one's self.

One of our numerous tempests threw down Mrs. Damer's chimney last
week, and it fell through her workshop; but fortunately touched
none of her own works, and only broke two or three insignificant
casts.  I suppose you know she returns through Spain.  This
minute I have heard that Lord Lothian's daughter, Lady Mary St.
John, and daughter-in-law of Lady Di Beauclerc, died yesterday,
having been delivered of a fine boy but the day before.  As you
are curious to know the chief topic of conversation, it is the
rival Opera-houses, neither of which are opened yet; both saying
the other is fallen down.  Taylor has published a pamphlet that
does not prove that the Marquis(730) is the most upright
Chamberlain that ever dropped from the skies, nor that the skies
are quite true blue.  Adieu! if no postscript tomorrow.  None.

(730) of Salisbury.



Letter 367 To Miss Berry.
Berkeley Square, Feb. 12, 1791. (page 472)

I have received your two letters of January 17th and 24th with an
account of your objects and plans; and the latter are very much
what I expected, as before you receive this you will have seen by
my last, No. 18.  Indeed, you most kindly offer to break SO far
into your plan, as to return at the beginning of next winter; but
as that would, as you say, not only be a sacrifice, but risk your
healths, can any thing upon earth be more impossible than for me
to accept or consent to such a sacrifice? Were I even in love
with one of you, could I agree to it? and, being only a most
zealous friend, do you think I will hear of it? Should I be a
friend at all, if I wished you, for my sake, to travel in winter
over mountains, or risk the storms at sea, that I have not
forgotten when you went away? Can I desire you to derange a
reasonable plan of economy, that would put you quite at your ease
at your return?  Have I any pretensions for expecting, still less
for asking, such or any sacrifices?  Have I interested myself in
your affairs only to embarrass them?

I do, in the most.  Positive and solemn manner, refuse to accept
the smallest Sacrifice of any part of your plan, but the single
point that would be so hard on me.  I will not say a word more on
your return, and beg your pardon for having been so selfish as to
desire it: my only request now is, that we may say no more about
it.  I am grieved that the great distance we are at must make me
still receive letters about it for some weeks.  I shall not
forget how very unreasonable I have been myself; nor shall I try
to forget it, lest I should be silly again: but I earnestly
desire to be totally silent on a subject that I have totally
abandoned, and which it is not at all improbable I may never have
occasion to renew.

I knew the Comte de Coigny(731) in the year 1766: he was then
lively and jovial.  I did not think he would turn out a writer,
or even reader; but he was agreeable.  I say nothing on France-
you must know as much as I do, and probably sooner.  I will only
tell you, that my opinion is not altered in a tittle.  What will
happen I do not pretend to guess; but am thoroughly persuaded
that the present system, if it can be called so, cannot take
root.  The flirts towards anarchy here have no effect at all.
Horne Tooke before Christmas presented a saucy libel to the House
of Commons, as a petition on his election.  The House
contemptuously voted it only frivolous and vexatious, and
disappointed him of a ray of martyrdom; but his fees, etc.  will
cost him three or four hundred pounds, which never go into a
mob's calculation of the ingredients of martyrdom.(732)

Monday morning, 14th.

I have a story to tell you, much too long to add to this; which I
will send next post, unless I have leisure enough to-day, from
people that call on me to finish it to-day, having begun it last
night; and in that case I will direct it to Miss Agnes.  Mr.
Lysons the clergyman has just been here, and told me of a Welsh
sportsman, a Jacobite, I suppose, who has very recently had his
daughter christened Louisa Victoria Maria Sobieski Foxhunter Moll
Boycot.  The curate of the minister who baptized her confirmed
the truth of it to Mr. Lysons.  When Belgiojoso, the Austrian
minister, was here, and thought he could write English, he sent a
letter to Miss Kennedy, a woman of the town, that began, "My
Kennedy Polly dear girl."  Apropos--and not much--pray tell me
whether the Cardinal of York calls himself King; and whether
James the Eighth, Charles the Fourth, or what?

(731) a Great-uncle of the present Duc de Coigny.

(732) On the 5th of February, the committee appointed to try the
merits of the petition, reported it to be frivolous and
vexatious.  Mr. Burke urged the necessity of taking some step
against the author of it: but the subject was got rid of by a
motion for the order of the day.-E.



Letter 368 To Miss Agnes Berry.
Feb. 13, 1791. (page 474)

The following narrative, though only the termination of a legend
of 'which you know the foregoing chapters, is too singular and
too long to be added to my letter; and therefore, though you will
receive two by the same post, you will not repine.  In short, the
Gunninghiad is completed--not by a marriage, like other novels of
the Minifies.(733)

Voici how the d`enouement happened.  Another supposed love-letter
had come from the Marquis(734) within these few weeks; which was
so improbable, that it raised more suspicions, and was more
closely examined; and thence was discovered to have been both
altered and interlined.  On this the General sent all the letters
down to the Marquis;(735) desiring to be certified of their
authenticity, or the contrary.  I should tell you, that all this
has happened since the death of is sister; who kept up the high
tone, and said, her brother was not a man to be trifled with.
The Marquis immediately distinguished the two kinds; owned the
few letters that disclaimed all inclination for Miss Charlemagne,
disavowed the rest.  Thence fell the General's wrath on his
consort; of which I have told you.

However, the General and his ducal brother-in-law thought it
expedient that Miss Charly's character should be cleared as far
as possible; she still maintaining the prodigious encouragement
she had received from the parents of her intended sposo.  She was
ordered to draw up a narrative, which should be laid before the
Duke of Marlborough; and, if allowed by him, to be shown for her
vindication.  She obeyed; and her former assertions did not
suffer by the new statement.  But one singular circumstance was
added: she confessed--ingenuous maid!--that, though she had not
been able to resist so dazzling an offer, her heart was still her
cousin's, the other Marquis.(736)

Well! this narrative, after being laid before a confidential
junto at Argyll-house, was sent to Blenheim by the General, by
his own groom.  Judge of the astonishment of the junto, when
Carloman, almost as soon as was possible, laid before them a
short letter from the Prince of Mindleheim(737) declaring how
delighted he and his Princess had been at their son's having made
choice of so beautiful and amiable a virgin for his bride; how
greatly they had encouraged the match; and how chagrined they
were, that, from the lightness and inconstancy of his temper, the
proposed alliance was quite at an end.  This wonderful acquittal
of the damsel the groom deposed he had received in half-an-hour
after his arrival at Blenheim; and he gave the most natural and
unembarrassed account of all the stages he had made, going and
coming.

You may still suspect, and so did some of the council, that every
tittle of this report and of the letter were not gospel: though I
own, I thought the epistle not irreconcilable to other parts of
the conduct of their graces about their children.  Still, I defy
you to guess a thousandth part of the marvellous explanation of
the mystery.

The first circumstance that struck was, that the Duke, in his own
son's name, had forgotten the d in the middle.  That was possible
in the hurry of doing justice.  Next, the wax was black; and
nobody could discover for whom such illustrious personages were
in mourning.  Well; that was no proof one way or other.
Unluckily, somebody suggested that Lord Henry Spencer was in
town, though to return the next day to Holland.  A messenger was
sent to him, though very late at night, to beg he would repair to
Argyll-house.  He did; the letter was shown to him; he laughed,
and said it had not the least resemblance to his father's hand.
This was negative detection enough; but now comes the most
positive and wonderful unravelling!

The next day the General received a letter from a gentleman,
confessing that his wife, a friend of Miss Charly, had lately
received from her a copy of a most satisfactory testimonial from
the Duke of Marlborough In her favour (though, note, the
narrative was not then gone to Blenheim); and begging the
gentlewoman's husband would transcribe it, and send it to her, as
she wished to send it to a friend in the country.  The husband
had done so, but had had the precaution to write at top Copy; and
before the signature had written, signed, M.--both which words
Miss had erased, and then delivered the gentleman's identic
transcript to the groom, to be brought back as from Blenheim:
which the steady groom, on being examined anew, confessed; and
that, being bribed, he had gone but one post, and invented the
rest.

You will now pity the poor General, who has been a dupe from the
beginning, and sheds floods of tears; nay, has actually turned
his daughter out of doors, as she banished from Argyll-house too:
and Lady Charlotte,(738) to her honour, speaks of her with the
utmost Indignation.  In fact, there never was a more
extraordinary tissue of effrontery, folly, and imposture.

it is a strange but not a miraculous part of this strange story,
that Gunnilda is actually harboured by, and lodges with, the old
Duchess(739) in Pall-Mall, the grandmother of whom she has
miscarried, and who was the first that was big with her.  You may
depend on the authenticity of this narrative, and may guess from
whom I received all the circumstances, day by day; but pray, do
not quote me for that reason, nor let it out of your hands, nor
transcribe any part of it.  The town knows the story confusedly,
and a million of false readings there will be; but, though you
know it exactly, do not send it back hither.  You will, perhaps,
be diverted by the various ways in which it will be related.
Yours, etc.  Eginhart, secretary to Charlemagne
and the Princess Gunnilda, his daughter.

P. S. Bowen is the name of the gentleman who gave information of
the letter sent to him to be copied, on hearing of the suspected
forgeries.  The whole Minifry are involved in the suspicions, as
they defend the damsel, who still confesses nothing; and it is
her mother, not she, who is supposed to have tampered with the
groom; and is discarded, too, by her husband.

(733) The name of the family of Mrs. Gunning. See p. 469, letter
365.

(734) George Spencer Churchill, Marquis of Blandford; he
succeeded his father as fourth Duke of Marlborough in 1817.-E.

(735) General Gunning was son of John Gunning, Esq. of
Castle-Coole, in the county of Roscommon and brother of the
beautiful Miss Gunning, married first, in 1752, to the Duke of
Hamilton; and second, in 1759, to the Duke of Argyle.-E.

(736) George William Campbell, Marquis of Lorn.  He succeeded his
father as sixth Duke of Argyle in 1806-E.

(737) The Emperor Joseph, in 1705, bestowed on the great Duke of
Marlborough the principality of Mindleheim, in Swabia.-E.

(738) Lady Charlotte Campbell. See p. 470, letter 365, note
729.-E.

(739) Gertrude, eldest daughter of John Earl Gower, Widow of John
fourth Duke of Bedford.-E.



Letter 369 To The Earl Of Charlemont.(740)
Berkeley Square, Feb. 17, 1791. (page 476)

It is difficult, my lord, with common language that has been so
prostituted in compliments, to express the real sense of
gratitude, which I do feel at my heart, for the obligation I have
to your lordship for an act of friendship as unexpected as it was
unsolicited; which last circumstance doubles the favour, as it
evinces your lordship's generosity and nobleness of temper,
without surprising me.  How can I thank your lordship, as I
ought, for interesting yourself, and of yourself, to save me a
little mortification, which I deserve, and should deserve more,
had I the vanity to imagine that my printing a few copies of my
disgusting tragedy would occasion different and surreptitious
editions of it?

Mr. Walker has acquainted me, my lord, that your lordship has
most kindly interposed to prevent a bookseller of Dublin from
printing an edition of "The Mysterious Mother" without my
consent; and, with the conscious dignity of a great mind, your
lordship has not even hinted to me the graciousness of that
favour.  How have I merited such condescending goodness, my lord?
Had I a prospect of longer life, I never could pay the debt of
gratitude; the weightier, as your lordship did not intend I
should know that I owe it.  My gratitude can never be effaced;
and I am charmed that it is due, and due with so much honour to
me, that nothing could bribe me to have less obligation to your
lordship, of which I am so proud.  But as to the play itself, I
doubt it must take its fate.  Mr. Walker tells me the booksellers
have desired him to remonstrate to me, urging that they have
already expended fifty pounds; and Mr. Walker adds, as no doubt
would be the case, that should this edition be stifled, when now
expected, some other printer would publish it.  I certainly might
indemnify the present operator, but I know too much of the craft,
not to be sure, that I should be persecuted by similar exactions;
and, alas! I have exposed myself but too much to the tyranny of
the press, not to know that it taxes delinquents as well as
multiplies their faults.

In truth, my lord, it is too late now to hinder copies of my play
from being spread.  It has appeared here, both whole and in
fragments: and, to prevent a spurious one, I was forced to have
some printed myself: therefore, if I consent to an Irish edition,
it is from no vain desire of diffusing the performance.  Indeed,
my good lord, I have lived too long not to have divested myself
both of vanity and affected modesty.  I have not existed to past
seventy-three without having discovered the futility and
triflingness of my own talents: and, at the same time, it would
be impertinent to pretend to think that there is no merit in the
execution of a tragedy, on which I have been so much flattered;
though I am sincere in condemning the egregious absurdity of
selecting a subject so improper for the stage, and even offensive
to private readers.

But I have said too much on a personal theme; and therefore,
after repeating a million of thanks to your lordship for the
honour of your interposition, I will beg your lordship, if you
please, to signify to the bookseller that you withdraw your
prohibition: but I shall not answer Mr. Walker's letter, till I
have your lordship's approbation, for You are both my lord
chamberlain 'and licenser; and though I have a tolerably
independent spirit, I may safely trust myself under the absolute
power of one, who has voluntarily protected me against the
licentiousness of those who have invaded my property, and who
distinguishes so accurately and justly between license and
liberty.

(740) Now first collected.  This letter was written in
consequence of one Walpole had received, informing him that a
Dublin bookseller was about to print his tragedy of The
Mysterious Mother.  At this time, and indeed until the Union took
place, there was no act of parliament which regulated literary
property in Ireland.-E.



Letter 370 To Miss Agnes Berry.
Berkeley Square, Feb. 18, 1791. (page 477)

Here is a shocking, not a fatal, codicil to Gunnilda's story.
But first I should tell you, that two days after the explosion,
the ignora Madre took a postchaise and four, and drove to
Blenheim; but, not finding the Duke and Duchess there, she
inquired where the Marquis was, and pursued him to Sir Henry
Dashwood's: finding him there, she began about her poor daughter;
but he interrupted her, said there was an end put to all that,
and desired to lead her to her chaise, which he insisted on
doing, and did.  I think this another symptom Of the Minifry
being accomplices to the daughter's enterprises.  Well! after the
groom's confession, and after Mr. Bowen had been confronted with
her, and produced to her face her note to his wife, which she
resolutely disowned, she desired the Duke of Argyll to let her
take an oath on the Bible of her perfect innocence of every
Circumstance of the whole transaction; which you may be sure he
did not permit.  N'importe: the next day, taking two of the
Duchess of Bedford's servants for witnesses, she went before a
justice of peace, swore to her innocence and ignorance
throughout, even of the note to Mrs. Bowen; and then said to the
magistrate, "Sir, from my youth you may imagine I do not know the
solemnity of an oath but, to convince you I do, I know my
salvation depends on what I have now sworn."  Solve all this, if
you can! Is it madness? Does even romance extend its inventions
so far? or its dispensations? It is but a burlesque part of this
wonderful tale, that old crazy Bedford exhibits Miss every
morning on the causeway in Hyde Park; and declares her proteg`ee
some time ago refused the hand of your acquaintance, Mr.
Trevelyan.(741)  Except of the contending Opera-houses, one can
hear of nothing but Miss Gunning,,; but it is now grown so
disgusting a story, that I shall be glad to hear and repeat to
you no more about it.

The Pantheon has opened, and is small, they say, but pretty and
simple; all the rest ill-conducted, and from the singers to the
sceneshifters imperfect; the dances long and bad, and the whole
performance so dilatory and tedious, that it lasted from eight to
half an hour past twelve.  The rival theatre is said to be
magnificent and lofty, but it is doubtful whether it will be
suffered to come to light: in short, the contest will grow
politics; Dieu et Mon Droit supporting the Pantheon, and Ich Dien
countenancing the Haymarket.  It is unlucky that the amplest
receptacle is to hold the minority!

20th.

O'Hara(742) is come to town.  You will love him better than ever.
He persuaded the captain of the ship, whom you will love for
being persuaded, to stop at Lisbon, that he might see Mrs. Damer.
O'Hara has been shockingly treated! The House of Richmond is on
the point of receiving a very great blow.  Colonel Lenox, who had
been dangerously ill but was better, has relapsed with all the
worst symptoms;(743) and is too weak to be sent to the south, as
the physicians recommended, Lady Charlotte is breeding, but that
is very precarious; and should it be a son, how many years ere
that can be a comfortable resource!

Is not it strange that London, in February and Parliament
sitting, should furnish no more paragraphs? Yet, confined at home
and in every body's way, and consequently my room being a
coffee-house from two to four, I probably hear all events worth
relating as soon as they are born, and send you them before they
are a week old.  Indeed, I think the Gunninhiana may last you a
month at Pisa, where, I suppose, the grass grows in the streets
as fast as news.  When I go out again I am likely to know less: I
go but to few, and those the privatest places I can find, which
are not the common growth of London; nor, but to amuse you,
should I inquire after news.  What is a juvenile world to me; or
its pleasures, interests, or squabbles?  I scarce know the
performers by sight.

21st.

It is very hard! The Gunnings will not let me or the town have
done with them.  La Madre has advertised a Letter to the Duke of
Argyll: so he is forced to collect counter affidavits.  The groom
has 'deposed that she promised him twenty pounds a year for his
life, and he has given up a letter that she wrote to him.  The
mother, when she went after the Marquis, would have persuaded him
to get into her chaise; but he would not venture being carried to
Gretna-green, and married by force.  She then wanted him to sign
a paper, that all was over between him and her daughter.  He
said, "Madam, nothing was ever begun;" and refused.  I told you
wrong: mother and daughter were not actually in the Duchess of
Bedford's house, but in Lord John Russel's, which she lent to
them: nor were her servants witnesses to the oath before Justice
Hide, but Dr. Halifax and the apothecary.  The Signora and her
Infanta now, for privacy, are retired into St. James's-street,
next door to Brooks's; whence it is supposed Miss will angle for
unmarried Marquises-perhaps for Lord Titchfield.(744) It is lost
time for people to write novels, who can compose such a romance
as these good folks have invented.  Adieu!

(741) Mr. Trevelyan married in the following August, Maria,
daughter of Sir Thomas Spencer Wilson, Bart.  On the death of his
father, in 1828, he succeeded to the title, as fifth baronet.-E.

(742) Afterwards lieutenant- governor of Gibraltar.  He died in
1802.

(743) Colonel Lenox recovered from his illness, and, in 1806,
succeeded his uncle as fourth Duke of Richmond.  His grace was
governor of Canada at the period of his decease, at Montreal, in
1819; and was succeeded by the son here anticipated; who was born
on the 3d of August 1791.-E.

(744) In 1795, the, Marquis of Titchfield married Miss Scott,
eldest daughter and heir of General John Scott, of Balcomie, in
the county of Fife, and in 1809, succeeded his father as fourth
Duke of Portland.-E.



Letter 371. \To The Miss Berrys.
Berkeley Square, Feb. 26, 1791. (page 479)

I have no letter from you to answer, nor any thing new that is
the least interesting to tell you.  The Duke of Argyll has sent a
gentleman with a cart-load of affidavits, which the latter read
to mother and daughter, in order to prevent the publication of
their libel; but it only enraged the former, -who vows she will
print all she knows, that is, any thing she has heard by their
entire intimacy in the family, or, no doubt, what she can invent
or misrepresent.  What a Medusa! There has been a fragment of a
rehearsal in the Haymarket, but still the Pantheon remains master
of the field of battle: the vanquished are preparing manifestoes,
but they seldom recover the day.

Madame du Barry(745) is come over to recover her jewels, of which
she has been robbed--not by the National Assembly, but by four
Jews who have been seized here and committed to Newgate.  Though
the late Lord Barrymore acknowledged her husband to be of his
noble blood, will she own the present Earl for a relation, when
she finds him turned strolling player!(746)  If she regains her
diamonds, perhaps Mrs. Hastings may carry her to court.(747)

If you want bigger events, you may send to the Russian army, who
will cut you fifteen thousand throats in a paragraph; or, en
attendant, you may piddle with the havoc made at Chantilly, which
has been half demolished by the rights of men, as the poor old
Mesdames have been stopped by the rights of the poissardes; for,
as it is true that extremes meet, the moment despotism was hurled
from the throne, it devolved to the mob, whose majesties, not
being able to write their names, do not issue lettres de cachet,
but execute their wills with their own hands; for hanging, which
degrades an executioner, ne deroge pas in sovereigns--witness the
Czar Peter the Great, Muley Ishmael, and many religious and
gracious African monarchs.

After eleven weeks of close confinement, I went out yesterday to
take the air; but was soon driven back by rain and sleet, which
soon ripened to a tempest of wind and snow, and continued all
night - it does not freeze, but blows so hard, that I shall sally
out no more tilt the weather has recovered its temper-I do not
mean that I expect Pisan skies.

28th.

It was on Saturday that I began this; it is now Monday, and I
have no letter from you, though we have had dozens of east winds.
I am sorry to find that it costs above six weeks to say a word at
Pisa and have an answer in London.  This makes correspondence
very uncomfortable; you will be talking to me of Miss Gunning,
when, perhaps, she may be sent to Botany Bay, and be as much
forgotten here as the Monster.(748)  Still she has been a great
resource this winter; for, though London is apt to produce
Wilkeses, and George Gordons, and Mrs. Rudds, and Horne Tookes,
and other phenomena, wet and dry, the, present season has been
very unprolific; and we are forced to import French news, as we
used to do fashions and Operas comiques.  The Mesdames are
actually set out: I shall be glad to hear they are safe at Turin,
for are there no poissardes but at Paris?(749) Natio poissarda
est.

Mr. Gibbon writes that he has seen Necker, and found him still
devoured by ambition.(750) and I should think by mortification at
the foolish figure he has made.  Gibbon admires Burke to the
skies, and even the religious parts, he says.(751)

Monday evening.

The east winds are making me amends -, one of them has brought me
twins.  I am sorry to find that even Pisa's sky is not quite
sovereign, but that you have both been out of order, though,
thank God! quite recovered both, If a Florentine March is at all
like an English one, I hope you will not remove thither till
April.  Some of its months, I am sure, were sharper than those of
our common wear are.  Pray be quite easy about me: I am entirely
recovered, though, if change were bad, we have scarce had one day
without every variety of bad weather, with a momentary leaf-gold
of sun.  I have been out three times, and to-day have made five
and-twenty visits, and was let in at six; and, though a little
fatigued, am still able, you see, to finish my letter.  You seem
to think I palliated my illness - I certainly did not tell you
that I thought it doubtful how it would end; yet I told you all &
circumstances, and surely did not speak sanguinely.

I wish, in No. 20, you had not again named October or November.
I have quite given up those months, and am vexed I ever pressed
for them, as they would break into Your reasonable plans, for
which I abandon any foolish ones of my own.  But I am a poor
philosopher, or rather am like all philosophers, have no presence
of mind, and must study my part before I can act it.  I have now
settled myself not to expect you this year-do not unsettle me: I
dread a disappointment, as I do a relapse of the gout; and
therefore cut this article short, that I may not indulge vain
hopes, My affection for you both is unalterable; can I give so
strong a proof as by supplicating you, as I do earnestly, to act
as is most prudent for your healths and interest? A long journey
in November would be the very worst part you could take.  and I
beseech you not to think of it: for me, you see I take a great
deal of killing, nor is it so easy to die as is imagined.

Thank you, my dearest Miss Agnes, for your postscript.  I love to
see your handwriting; and yet do not press for it, as you are
shy: though I address myself equally to both, and consult the
healths of both In what I have recommended above.  Here is a
postscript for yours: Madame du Barry was to go and swear to her
jewels before the Lord Mayor. Boydell, who is a little better
bred than Monsieur Bailly,(752) made excuses for being obliged to
administer the oath chez lui, but begged she would name her hour;
and, when she did, he fetched her himself in the state-coach, and
had a mayor-royal banquet ready for her.(753)  She has got most
of her jewels again.  I want the King to send her four Jews to
the National Assembly, and tell them it is the change or la
monnoie of Lord George Gordon, the Israelite.

Colonel Lenox is much better: the Duchess of Leinster had a
letter from Goodwood to-day which says he rides out.  I am glad
you do.  I said nothing on "the Charming-man's" poem.  I fear I
said too much to him myself.  He said, others liked it: and
showed me a note from Mr. Burke, that was hyperbole itself.  I
wish him so well, that I am sorry he should be so flattered,
when, in truth, he has no genius.(754)  There is no novelty, no
plan, and no suite in his poetry: though many of the lines are
pretty.  Dr. Darwin alone can exceed his predecessors.

Let me repeat to both, that distance of place and time can make
no alteration in my friendship.  It grew from esteem for your
characters, and understandings, and tempers; and became affection
from your good-natured attentions 'to me, where there is so vast
a disproportion in our ages.  Indeed, that complaisance spoiled
me; but I have weaned myself of my own self-love, and you shall
hear no more of its dictates.

(745) The last mistress of Louis; the Fifteenth.  The Count du
Barry who had disgraced his name by marrying her, claimed to be
of the same family with the Earls of Barrymore in Ireland.-E.

(746) See ante, p. 452, letter 354.

(747) Mrs. Hastings was supposed, by the party violence of the
day, to have received immense bribes in diamonds.

(748) A vagabond so called, from his going about attempting to
stab at women with a knife.  His first aim had probably been at
their Pockets, which having in several instances missed and
wounded his intended victims, fear and a love of the marvellous
dubbed him with the name of the Monster.  The wretch, whose name
was Renwick Williams, was tried for the offence at the Old
Bailey, in July 1790, and found guilty of a misdemeanour.-E.

(749) After numerous interruptions, the King's aunts were
permitted by the National Assembly to proceed to Italy.-E.

(750) "I have passed," says Gibbon, in a letter to Lord
Sheffield, "four days at the castle of Copet with Necker; and
could have wished to have shown him as a warning to any aspiring
youth possessed with the demon of ambition.  With all the means
of private happiness in his power, he is the most miserable of
human beings; the past, the present, and the future, are equally
odious to him.  When I suggested some domestic amusement of
books, building, etc.  he answered, with a deep tone Of despair,
'Dans l'`etat o`u je suis, je ne puis sentir que le coup de vent
qui m'a abbatu.'  How different from the conscious cheerfulness
with which our friend Lord North supported his fall! Madame
Necker maintains more external composure, mais le diable n'y perd
rien.  It is true that Necker wished to be carried into the
closet, like old Pitt, on the shoulders of the people, and that
he has been ruined by the democracy which he had raised.  I
believe him to be an able financier and know him to be an honest
man."-E.

(751) The following are Gibbon's expressions:--"Burke's book is a
most admirable medicine against the French disease; which has
made too much progress even in this happy country.  I admire his
eloquence, I approve his politics, I adore his Chivalry, and I
can forgive even his superstition."-E.

(752) M. Bailly, the learned astronomer.  He was president of the
first National Assembly, and in July 1789, appointed mayor of
Paris; in which situation he gave great offence to the people, in
July 1791, by ordering martial law to be proclaimed against a mob
which had assembled in the Champ de Mars to frame an address,
recommending the deposition of Louis.  For this step, which was
approved of by the Assembly, he was arrested, tried, condemned,
and put to death on the 11th of November 1793.  The details of
this event are horrible.  "The weather," says M. Thiers, "was
cold and rainy, Conducted on foot, he manifested the utmost
composure amidst the insults of a barbarous populace, whom he had
fed while he +was mayor.  On reaching the foot of the scaffold,
one of the wretches cried out, that the field of' the federation
ought not to be polluted by his blood.  The people instantly
rushed upon the guillotine, bore it off, and erected it again
upon a dunghill on the bank of the Seine, and opposite to the
spot where Bailly had passed his life and composed his invaluable
works.  This operation lasted some hours: meanwhile, he was
compelled to walk several times round the Champ de Mars,
bareheaded, and with his hands pinioned behind him.  Some pelted
him with mud, others kicked and struck him with sticks.  He fell
exhausted.  They lifted him up again.  'Thou tremblest!' said a
soldier to him.  'My friend,' replied the old man, 'it is cold.'
At length he was delivered over to the executioner; and another
illustrious scholar, and one of the most virtuous of men, was
then taken from it." Vol. iii. p. 207-E.

(753) See post, p. 484.-E.

(754) Mr. Gifford was of Walpole's opinion, and has, in
consequence, accorded to " The Charming-man" a prominent
situation in the Baviad:--

"See snivilling Jerningham at fifty weep
O'er love-lorn oxen and deserted sheep."

To the poem here alluded to, and which was entitled "Peace,
Ignominy, and Destruction," the satirist thus alludes:-"I thought
I understood something of faces; but I must read my Lavater over
again I find.  That a gentleman, with the physionomie \2d'un
mouton qui r`eve,' should suddenly start up a new Tyrtaeus, and
pour a dreadful note, through a cracked war-trump, amazes me:
well, fronti nulla fides shall henceforth be my motto'  In a note
to the Pursuits of Literature, Mr. Mathias directs the attention
of Jerningham to the following beautiful lines in Dryden's
Epistle to Mr. Julien, Secretary of the Muses:--

"All his care
Is to be thought a Poet fine and fair;
Small beer and gruel are his meat and drink,
The diet he prescribes himself to think;
Rhyme next his heart he takes at morning peep,
Some love-epistles at the hour of sleep;
And when his passion has been bubbling long,
The scum at last boils Up into a song." --E.



Letter 372 To The Miss Berrys.
Berkeley Square, March 5, 1791. (page 483)

One may live in a vast capital, and know no more of three parts
of it than of Carthage.  When I was at Florence, I have surprised
some Florentines by telling them, that London was built, like
their city, (where you often cross the bridges several times in a
day,) on each side of the river: and yet that I had never been
but on one side; for then I had never been in Southwark.  When I
was very young, and in the height of the opposition to my father,
my mother wanted a large parcel of bugles; for what use I forget.
As they were then out of fashion, she could get none.  At last,
she was told of a quantity in a little shop in an obscure alley
in the City.  We drove thither; found a great stock; she bought
it, and bade the proprietor send it home.  He said, "Whither?"
"To Sir Robert Walpole's."  He asked coolly, "Who is Sir Robert
Walpole?"

This is very like Cambridge, who tells you three stories to make
you understand a fourth.  In short, t'other morning a gentleman
made me a visit, and asked if I had heard of the great misfortune
that had happened? The Albion Mills are burnt down.  I asked
where they were; supposing they were powder-mills in the country,
that had blown up.  I had literally never seen or heard of the
spacious lofty building at the end of Blackfriars Bridge.  At
first it was supposed maliciously burnt, and it is certain the
mob stood and enjoyed the conflagration, as of a monopoly; but it
had been on fire, and it was thought extinguished.  The building
had cost a hundred thousand Pounds; and the loss in corn and
flour is calculated at a hundred and forty thousand.  I do not
answer for the truth of the sums; but it is certain that the
Palace-yard and part of St. James's Park were covered with
half-burnt grain.(755)

This accident, and my introduction, have helped me to a good part
Of my letter; for you must have observed, that even in this
overgrown town the winter has not been productive of events.
Good night! I have two days to wait for a letter that I may
answer.  Stay -, I should tell you, that I have been at Sir
Joseph Banks's literary saturnalia,(756) where was a Parisian
watchmaker, who produced the smallest autoMaton that I suppose
was ever created.  It was a rich snuffbox, not too large for a
woman.  On opening the lid, an enamelled bird started up, sat on
the rim, turned round, fluttered its wings, and piped in a
delightful tone the notes of different birds; particularly the
jug-jug of the nightingale.  It is the prettiest plaything you
ever saw; the price tempting--only five hundred pounds.  That
economist, the Prince of Wales, could not resist it, and has
bought one of those dickybirds.  If the maker finds such
customers, he will not end like one of his profession here, who
made the serpent in Orpheus and Eurydice;(757) and who fell so
deeply in love with his own works, that he did nothing afterwards
but make serpents, of all sorts and sizes, till he was ruined and
broke.  I have not a tittle to add-but that the Lord Mayor did
not fetch Madame du Barry in the City-royal coach; but kept her
to dinner.  She is gone; but returns in April.

(755) The fire took place on the morning of the 2d of March.
There was no reason for any particular suspicion, except the
general dislike in the lower classes of the people, arising from
a notion, that the undertaking enhanced the price of corn and
decreased the value of labour.-E.

(756) Sir Joseph Banks, while President of the Royal Society, had
a weekly evening reception of all persons distinguished in
science or the arts.

(757) A celebrated opera.



Letter 373 To Miss Berry.
Strawberry Hill, Saturday, March 19, 1791. (page 484)

I did not begin my letter on customary Friday     , because I had
nothing new to tell or to say.  The town lies fallow--not an
incident worth repeating as far as I know.  Parliament
manufactures only bills, not politics.  I never understood any
thing useful; and, now that my time and connexions are shrunk to
so narrow a compass, what business have I with business?  As I
have mended considerably for the last four days, and as we have
had a fortnight of soft warm weather, and a southwest wind
to-day, I have ventured hither for change Of air, and to give
orders about some repairs at Cliveden; which, by the way, Mr.
Henry Bunbury, two days ago, proposed to take off my hands for
his life.  I really do not think I accepted his offer.  I shall
return to town on Monday, and hope to find a letter to answer--or
what will this do?

Berkeley Square, Monday evening.

I am returned and find the only letter I dreaded, and the only
one, I trust, that I shall ever not be impatient to receive from
you.  Though ten thousand times kinder than I deserve, it wounds
my heart: as I find I have hurt two of the persons I love the
best upon earth', and whom I am most constantly studying to
please and serve.  That I soon repented of my murmurs, you have
seen by my subsequent letters.  The truth, as you may have
perceived, though no excuse, was, that I had thought myself
dying, and should never see you more; that I was extremely weak
and low, when Mrs. Damer's letter arrived, and mentioned her
supposing that I should not see you till spring twelvemonth.
That terrible sentence recalled Mr. Batt's being the first to
assure me of your going abroad, when I had concluded you had laid
aside the design.  I did sincerely allow that in both instances
you had acted from tenderness in concealing your intentions; but,
as I knew I could better bear the information from yourselves
than from others, I thought it unfriendly to let me learn from
others what interested me so deeply: yet I do not in the least
excuse my conduct; no, I condemn it in every light, and shall
never forgive myself if you do not promise me to be guided
entirely by your own convenience and inclinations about your
return.  I am perfectly well again, and just as likely to live
one year as half an one.  Indulge your pleasure
in being abroad while you are there.  I am now reasonable enough
to enjoy your happiness as my own; and, since you are most kind
when I least deserve it, how can I express my gratitude for
giving up the scruple that was so distressing to me! Convince me
you are in earnest by giving me notice that you will write to
Charingcross while the Neapolitans are at Florence.(758) I will
look on that as a clearer proof of your forgiving my criminal
letter, than your return before you like it.  It is most sure
that nothing is more solid or less personal than my friendship
for you two; and even my complaining letter, though unjust and
unreasonable, proved that the nearer I thought myself to quitting
the world, the more my heart was set on my two friends; nay, they
had occupied the busiest moments of my illness as well as the
most fretful ones.  Forgive then, my dearest friends, what could
proceed from nothing but too impatient affection.  You say most
truly you did not deserve my complaints: your patience and temper
under them make me but more in the wrong; and to have hurt you,
who have known but too much grief, is such a contradiction to the
whole turn of my mind ever since I knew you, that I believe my
weakness from illness was beyond even what I suspected.  It is
sure that, when I am in my perfect senses, the whole bent of my
thoughts is to promote your and your sister's felicity; and you
know nothing can give me satisfaction like your allowing me to be
of use to you.  I speak honestly, notwithstanding my unjust
letter; I had rather serve you than see you.  Here let me finish
this subject: I do not think I shall be faulty to you again.

The Mother Gunning has published her letter to the Duke of
Argyll, and it disappoints every body.  It is neither romantic,
nor entertaining, nor abusive, but on the General and Mr.  and
Mrs. Bowen, and the General's groom.  On the Bowens it is so
immeasurably scurrilous, that I think they must prosecute her.
She accuses them and her husband of a conspiracy to betray and
ruin his own daughter, without, even attempting to assign a
motive to them.  Of the House of Argyll she says not a word.  In
short, it is a most dull incoherent rhapsody, that gives no
account at all of the story that gave origin to her book, and at
which no mortal could guess from it; and the 246 pages contain
nothing but invectives on her four supposed enemies, and endless
tiresome encomiums on the virtues of her glorious darling, and
the unspottable innocence of that harmless lambkin.  I would not
even send it to you if I had an opportunity-you would not have
patience to go through it; and there, I suppose, the absurd
legend will end.  I am heartily tired of it.  Adieu!

P. S. That ever I should give you two an uneasy moment!  Oh!
forgive me: yet I do not deserve pardon in my own eyes: and less
in my own heart.

(758) His correspondents, to settle his mind as to the certainty
of their return at the time they had promised, had assured him,
that no financial difficulties should stand in the way; which is
what he means by sending to Charing-cross (to Drummond his
banker), No such difficulties occurred.  The correspondence,
therefore, with Charing-cross never took place-M.B.



Letter 374 To The Miss Berrys.
Berkeley Square, Sunday, March 27, 1791. (page 486)

Though I begin my despatch to-day, I think I shall change my
post-days, as I hinted from Tuesdays to Fridays; not only as more
commodious for learning news for you, but as I do not receive
your letters generally but on Mondays, I have less time to
answer.  I have an additional reason for delay this week.  Mr.
Pitt has notified that he is to deliver a message from the King
to-morrow, to the House of Commons on the situation of Europe;
and should there be a long debate, I may not gather the
particulars till Tuesday morning, and if my levee lasts late,
shall not have time to write to you.  Oh! now are you all
impatience to hear that message: I am sorry to say that I fear it
will be a warlike one.  The Autocratrix swears, d-n her eyes! she
will hack her way to Constantinople through the blood of one
hundred thousand more Turks, and that we are very impertinent for
sending her a card with a sprig of olive.  On the other hand,
Prussia bounces and buffs and claims our promise of helping him
to make peace by helping him to make war; and so, in the most
charitable and pacific way in the world, we are, they say, to
send twenty ships to the Baltic, and half as many to the Black
Sea,-this little Britain, commonly called Great Britain, is to
dictate to Petersburg and Bengal and cover Constantinople under
those wings that reach from the North Pole to the farthest East!
I am mighty sorry for it, and hope we shall not prove a jackdaw
that pretends to dress himself in the plumes of imperial eagles!

If we bounce abroad, we are more forgiving at home: a gentleman
who lives at the east end of St. James's Park has been sent for
by a lady who has a large house at the west end,(759) and they
have kissed and are friends; which he notified by toasting her
health in a bumper at a club the other day.  I know no
circumstances, but am glad of it; I love peace, public or
private: not so the chieftains of the contending theatres of
harmony.  Taylor, in wondrous respectful terms and full of
affliction, has printed in the newspapers an advertisement,
declaring that the Marquis's honour the Lord Chamberlain(760) did
in one season, and that an unprofitable one, send orders (you
know, that is tickets of admission without paying) into the
Opera-house, to the loss of the managers of four hundred pounds-
-servants, it is supposed, and Hertfordshire voters eke: and
moreover, that it has been sworn in Chancery that his lordship,
not as lord chamberlain, has stipulated with Gallini and O'Reilly
that he, his heirs and assigns, should preserve the power of
giving those detrimental orders in perpetuity.  The immunity is a
little new: former chamberlains, it seems even durante officio,
have not exercised the privilege--if they had it.

One word more of the Gunnings.  Captain Bowen informed the
authoress, by the channel of the papers, that he shall prosecute
her for the libel.  She answered, by the same conveyance, that
she is extremely glad of it.  But there is a difficulty-unless
the prosecution is criminal, it is thought that Madam being femme
couverte, the charge must be brought against her husband; and, to
be sure, it would be droll that the General should be attached
for not hindering his wife from writing a libel, that is more
virulent against him himself than any body! Another little
circumstance has come out: till the other day he did not know
that he had claimed descent from Charlemagne in the newspapers;
which, therefore, is referred to the same manufacture as the
other forgeries.  The General said, "It is true I am well born;
but I know no such family in Ireland as the Charlemagnes."

Lord Ossory has just been here, and told me that Gunnilda has
written to Lord Blandford, in her own name and hand, begging his
pardon (for promising herself marriage in his name), but imputing
the first thought to his grandmother, whom she probably inspired
to think of it.  This letter the Duchess of Marlborough carried
to the Duchess of Bedford, to open her eyes on her proteg`ee, but
with not much success; for what signify eyes, when the rest of
the head is gone?  She only said, "You may be easy, for both
mother and daughter, are gone to France"--no doubt, on finding
her grace's money not so forthcoming as her countenance, and
terrified by Captain Bowen's prosecution and there, I hope, will
terminate that strange story; for in France there is not a
marquis left to marry her.  One has heard Of nothing else these
seven months; and it requires some ingenuity to keep up the
attention of such a capital as London for above half a year
together.  I supped on Thursday at Mrs. Buller's with the conways
and Mount-Edgcumbes; and the next night at Lady Ailesbury's with
the same company, and Lady Augusta Clavering.(761)  You know, on
the famous night at your house when Gunnilda pretended that her
father had received Lord Blandford's appointment of the
wedding-day, we suspected, when they were gone, that we had seen
doubts in Lady Augusta's face, and I desired her uncle, Lord
Frederick, to ask her if we had guessed right; but she protests
she had then no suspicion.

I have determined to send this away on Tuesday, whether I know
the details of the temple of Janus to-morrow in time or not, that
you may give yourself airs of importance, if the Turin ministers
pretend to tell you news of your own country that you do not
know.  You may say, your charg`e des affaires sent you word of
the King's message; and you may be mysterious about the rest; for
mystery in the diplomatic dictionary is construed as knowledge,
though, like a Hebrew word, it means the reverse too.

Sunday night.

I have been at White Pussy's(762) this evening.  She asked much
after you.  I did not think her lord looked as if he would drive
Prince Potemkin out of Bulgaria; but we trust that a new
Frederick of Prussia and a new William Pitt will.  Could they lay
Catherine in the Black Sea, as ghosts used to be laid in the Red,
the world would be obliged to them.

(759) The Queen and the Prince of Wales.

(760) The Marquis of Salisbury.

\(761) Eldest daughter of John Duke of Argyle.

(762) Elizabeth Cary, wife of Lord Amherst, at this time
commander-in-chief.



Letter 375 To Miss Berry.
Strawberry Hill, Sunday night, April 3, 1791. (page 488)

Oh! what a shocking accident!  Oh! how I detest your going abroad
more than I have done yet in my crossest mood! You escaped the
storm on the 10th of October, that gave me such an alarm; you
passed unhurt through the cannibals of France and their republic
of larrons and poissardes, who terrified me sufficiently; but I
never expected that you would dash yourself to pieces at
Pisa!(763)  You say I love truth, and that you have told me the
exact truth: but how can fear believe!

How I hate a party of pleasure! It never turns out well: fools
fall out, and sensible People fall down!  Still I thank you a
million of' times for writing yourself.  If Miss Agnes had
written for you, I confess I should have been ten times more
alarmed than I am; and yet I am alarmed enough.

Not to torment you more with my fears, when I hope you are almost
recovered, I will answer the rest of your letter.  General O'Hara
I have unluckily not met yet.  He is so dispersed, and I am so
confined in my resorts and so seldom dine from home, that I have
not seen him, even at General Conway's.  When I do, can you
imagine that we shall not talk of you two--yes; and your
accident, I am.  sure, will be the chief topic.  As our fleets
are to dethrone Catherine Petruchia, O'Hara will probably not be
sent to Siberia.  Apropos to Catherine and Petruchio.  I supped
with their representatives, Kemble and Mrs. Siddons, t'other
night at Miss Farren's: the Hothams(764) were there too, and Mrs.
Anderson,(765) who treated the players with acting as many
characters as ever they did, particularly Gunnilda and Lady
Clackmannan.(766) Mrs. Siddons is leaner, but looks well: she has
played Jane Shore and Desdemona, and is to play in the Gamester;
all the parts she will act this year.  Kemble, they say, shone in
Othello.

Mrs. Damer has been received at Elvas with all military honours,
and a banquet, by order of Mello, formerly ambassador here.  It
was handsome in him, but must have distressed her, who is so void
of ostentation and love of show.  Miss Boyle,(767) who no more
than Miss Pulteney,(768) has let herself be snapped up by lovers
of her fortune, is going to Italy for a year with Lord and Lady
Malden.(769)

Berkeley Square, Monday after dinner.

Mirabeau is dead;(770) ay, miraculously; for it was of a putrid
fever (that began in his heart).  Dr. Price is dying also.(771)
That Mr. Berry, with so much good nature and good sense should be
staggered, I do not wonder.  Nobody is more devoted to liberty
than I am.  It is therefore that I abhor the National Assembly,
whose outrageous violence has given, I fear, a lasting wound to
the cause; for anarchy is despotism in the hands of thousands.  A
lion attacks but when hungry or provoked; but who can live in a
desert full of hyennas?--nobody but Mr. Bruce; and we have only
his word for it.  Here is started up another corsair; one Paine,
from America, who has published an answer to Mr. Burke.(7722)
His doctrines go to the extremity of levelling and his style is
so coarse, that you would think he meant to degrade the language
as much as the government: here is one of his delicate
paragraphs:--"We do not want a king, or lords of the bedchamber,
or lords of the kitchen," etc.  This rhetoric, I suppose, was
calculated for our poissardes.

(763) Miss Berry had fallen down a bank in the neighbourhood of
Pisa, and received a severe cut on the nose.

(764) Sir Charles Hotham Thompson, married to Lady Dorothy
Hobart, sister of John second Earl of Buckinghamshire.

(765) A daughter of Lady Cecilia Johnstone's, married to a
brother of Charles Anderson Pelham, Lord Garborough.

(766) A nickname, which had been given by the writer to a lady of
the society.

(767)Afterwards married to Lord Henry Fitzgerald.

(768) Afterwards married to Sir James Murray.

(769) Lord Malden, afterwards Earl of Essex, was a first cousin
of Miss Boyle.  This journey did not take place.

(770) Mirabeau died on the 2d of April, at the age of forty-two,
a victim to his own debaucheries.  His friend, M. Dupont, says of
him, that, "trusting to the strength of his constitution he gave
himself up, without restraint, to every kind of pleasure." Madame
de Stael states, that he suffered cruelly in the last days of his
life, and when no longer able to speak, wrote to his physician
for a dose OF opium, in the words of Hamlet, "to die--to sleep!"
His obsequies were celebrated with great pomp, and his body
placed in the Pantheon, by the side of that of Descartes.  In two
short years his ashes were removed, by order of the Convention,
and scattered abroad by the populace; who, at the same time,
burned his bust in the Place de Gr`eve.-E.

(771) Dr. Price died on the 19th of April.-E.

(772) This was the first part of the " Rights of Man," in answer
to the celebrated "Reflections." At the commencement of the year
Paine had published in Paris, under the borrowed name of Achille
Duchatellet, a tract recommending the abolition of royalty.-E.



Letter 376 To Miss Berry.
Berkeley Square, Friday night, April 15, 1791. (page 490)

My preface will be short; for I have nothing to tell, and a great
deal that I am waiting patiently to hear; all which, however, may
be couched in these two phrases,-,, I am quite recovered of my
fall, and my nose will not be the worse for it"--for with all my
pretences, I cannot help having that nose a little upon my
spirits; though if it were flat, I should love it as much as
ever, for the sake of the head and heart that belong to it.  I
have seen O'Hara, with his face as ruddy and black, and his teeth
as white as ever; and as fond of you two, and as grieved for your
fall, as any body--but I.  He has got a better regiment.

Strawberry Hill, Sunday night, past eleven.

You chose your time ill for going abroad this year: England never
saw such a spring since it was fifteen years old.  The warmth,
blossoms, and verdure are unparalleled.  I am just come from
Richmond, having first called on Lady Di.  who is designing and
painting pictures for prints to Dryden's Fables.(773) Oh! she has
done two most beautiful; one of Emily walking in the garden, and
Palamon seeing her from the tower: the other, a noble, free
composition of Theseus parting the rivals, when fighting in the
wood.  They are not, as you will imagine, at all like the
pictures in the Shakspeare Gallery: no; they are -worthy of
Dryden.

I can tell you nothing at all certain with our war with Russia.
If one believes the weather-glass of the stocks, it will be
peace; they had fallen to 71, and are risen again, and soberly,
to 79. Fawkener" clerk of the council, sets out to-day or
to-morrow for Berlin; probably, I hope, with an excuse.  In the
present case, I had much rather our ministers were bullies than
heroes: no mortal likes the war.  The court-majority lost
thirteen of its former number at the beginning of the week, which
put the Opposition into spirits; but,
put pursuing their motions on Friday, twelve of the thirteen were
recovered.(774)  Lord Onslow told me just now, at Madame de
BOufflers's, that Lady Salisbury was brought to bed of a son and
heir(775) last night, two hours after she came from the Opera;
and that Madame du Barry dined yesterday with the Prince of
Wales, at the Duke of Queensberry's, at Richmond.  Thus you have
all my news, such as it is ; and I flatter myself no English at
Pisa or Florence can boast of better intelligence than you--but
for you, should I care about Madame du Barry or my Lady
Salisbury, or which of them lies in or lies out?

Berkeley Square, Monday, April 18.

Oh! what a dear letter have I found, and from both at once; and
with such a delightful bulletin!  I should not be pleased with
the idleness of the pencil, were it not owing to the chapter of
health, which I prefer to every thing.  You order me to be
particular about my own health: I have nothing to say about it,
but that it is as good as before my last fit.  Can I expect or
desire more at my age?  My ambition is to pass a summer, with you
two established at Cliveden.  I shall not reject more if they
come; but one must not be presumptuous at seventy-three; and
though my eyes, ears, teeth, motion, have still lasted to make
life comfortable, I do not know that I should be enchanted if
surviving any of them ; and, having no desire to become a
philosopher, I had rather be naturally cheerful than affectedly
so: for patience I take to be only a resolution of holding one's
tongue, and not complaining of what one feels-for does one feel
or think the less for not owning it?

Though London increases every day, and Mr. Herschell has just
discovered a new square or circus somewhere by the New Road in
.the Via Lactea, where the cows used to be fed, I believe you
will think the town cannot hold all its inhabitants; so
prodigiously the population is augmented.  I have twice been
going to stop my coach in Piccadilly, (and the same has happened
to Lady Ailesbury,) thinking there was a mob; and it was only
nymphs and swains sauntering or trudging.  T'other morning, i. e.
at two o'clock, I went to see Mrs. Garrick and Miss Hannah More
at the Adelphi, and was stopped five times before I reached
Northumberland-house; for the tides of coaches, chariots,
curricles, phaetons, etc. are endless.  Indeed, the town is so
extended, that the breed of chairs is almost lost ; for Hercules
and Atlas could not carry any body from one end of this enormous
capital to the other.  How magnified would be the error of the
young woman at St. Helena, who, some said years ago,
to a captain of an Indiaman, "I suppose London is very empty,
when the India ships come out."  Don't make Me excuses, then, for
short letters; nor trouble yourself a moment to lengthen them.
YOU Compare little towns to quiet times, which do not feed
history ; and most justly.  If the vagaries of' London can be
comprised once a week in three or four pages of small quarto
paper, and not always that, how should little Pisa furnish an
equal export?  When Pisa *was at war with the rival republic of
Milan, Machiavel was put to it to describe a battle, the
slaughter in which amounted to one man slain; and he was trampled
to death, by being thrown down and battered in his husk of
complete armour; as I remember reading above fifty years ago at
Florence.

Eleven at night.

Oh! mercy! I am just come from Mrs. Buller's, having left a very
pleasant set at Lady Herries'(776)--and for such a collection
Eight or ten women and girls, not one of whom I knew by sight: a
German Count., as stiff and upright as the inflexible Dowager of
Beaufort: a fat Dean and his wife, he speaking Cornish, and of
having dined to-day at Lambeth; four young officers, friends of
the boy Buller,(777) who played with one of them at tric-trac,
while the others made with the Misses a still more noisy
commerce; and not a creature but Mrs. Cholmondeley, who went away
immediately, and her son, who was speechless with the headache,
that I was the least acquainted with: and, to add to my
sufferings, the Count would talk to me of les beaux arts, of
which he knows no more than an oyster.  At last, came in Mrs.
Blair, whom I knew as little; but she asked so kindly after you
two, and was so anxious about your fall and return, that I grew
quite fond of her, and beg you would love her for my sake, as I
do for yours.  Good night!

I have this moment received a card from the Duchess-Dowager of
Ancaster, to summon me for to-morrow at three o'clock--I suppose
to sign Lord Cholmondeley's marriage-articles with her
daughter.(778)  The wedding is to be this day sevennight.  Save
me, my old stars, from wedding-dinners! But I trust they are not
of this age.  I should sooner expect Hymen to jump out of a
curricle, and walk into the Duchess's dressing-room in boots and
a dirty shirt.

(773) A splendid edition of the Fables of Dryden, ornamented with
engravings, from the elegant and fascinating pencil of Lady Diana
Beauclerc, was published in folio in 1797.-E.

(774) On the 12th of April, a series of resolutions, moved by Mr.
Grey, the object of which was to pronounce the armament against
Russia inexpedient and unnecessary, were, after a warm debate,
negatived by 252 against 17?- A similar motion, made on the
fifteenth, by Mr. Baker was rejected by a majority of 254 to
162.-E.

(775) James-Brownlow-William Gascoyne Cecil.  in 1823, he
succeeded his father as second Marquis of Salisbury.-E.

(776) The wife of the banker in St. James's Street.

(777) Mrs. Buller's only child.

(778) Lady Charlotte Bertie.



Letter 377 To Miss Berry.
Strawberry Hill, April 23, 1791. (page 492)

To-day, when the town is staring at the sudden resignation of the
Duke of Leeds,(779) asking the reason, and gaping to know who
will succeed him, I am come hither -with an indifference that
might pass for philosophy; as the true cause is not known, which
it seldom is.  Don't tell Europe; but I really am come to look at
the repairs of Cliveden, and how they go on; not without an eye
to the lilacs and the apple-blossoms: for even self can find a
corner to wriggle into, though friendship may fit out the vessel.
Mr. Berry may, perhaps, wish I had more political curiosity; but
as I must return to town on Monday for Lord Cholmondeley's
wedding, I may hear before the departure of the post, if the
seals are given: for the Duke's reasons, should they be assigned,
shall one be certain? His intention was not even whispered till
Wednesday evening.  The news from India, so long expected, are
not couleur de rose, but de sang: a detachment has been defeated
by Tippoo Saib, and Lord Cornwallis is gone to take the command
of the army himself.  Will the East be more propitious to him
than the West?

The abolition of the slave-trade has been rejected by the House
of Commons,(780) though Mr. Pitt and Mr. Fox united earnestly to
carry it: but commerce chinked its purse, and that sound is
generally prevalent with the majority; and humanity's tears, and
eloquence, figures and arguments, had no more effect than on
those patrons of liberty, the National Assembly of France; who,
while they proclaim the rights of men, did not choose to admit
the sable moiety of mankind to a participation of those benefits.

Captain Bowen has published a little pamphlet of affidavits,
which prove that Gunnilda attempted to bribe her father's groom
to perjure himself; but he begged to be excused.  Nothing more
appears against the mother, but that Miss pretended her mamma had
an aversion to Lord Lorn, (an aversion to a Marquis!) and that
she did not dare to acquaint so tender a parent with her lasting
passion for him.  Still I am persuaded that both the mother and
the aunt were in the plot, whatever it was.  I saw Lady Cecilia
last night, and made all your speeches, and received their value
in return for you.

Good Hannah More is killing herself by a new fit of benevolence,
about a young girl with a great fortune, who has been taken from
school at Bristol to Gretna Green, and cannot be discovered; nor
the apothecary who stole her.  Mrs. Garrick, who suspects, as I
do, that Miss Europa is not very angry with Mr. Jupiter, had Very
warm words, a few nights ago, at the Bishop of London's, with
Lady Beaumont; but I diverted the quarrel by starting the stale
story of the Gunning.  You know Lady Beaumont's eagerness: she is
ready to hang the apothecary with her own hands; and he certainly
is criminal enough.  Poor Hannah lives with attorneys and Sir
Sampson Wright;(781) and I have seen her but once since she came
to town.  Her ungrateful proteg`ee, the milkwoman, has published
her tragedy, and dedicated it to a patron as worthy as herself,
the Earl-bishop of Derry.(782)

At night.

Well! our wedding is over very properly, though with little
ceremony; for the men were in frocks and white waistcoats; most
of the women in white, and no diamonds but on the Duke's wife;
and nothing of ancient fashion but two bride-maids.  The endowing
purse I believe, has been left off, ever since broad-pieces were
called in and melted down.  We were but eighteen persons in all,
chiefly near relations of each side; and of each side a friend or
two: of the first sort, the Greatheds.  Sir Peter Burrell gave
away the bride.  The poor Duchess-mother wept excessively: She is
now left quite alone; her two daughters married, and her other
children dead; she herself, I fear, in a very dangerous way.  She
goes directly to Spa, where the new-married are to meet her.  We
all separated in an hour and a half.  The Elliot-girl(783) was
there, and is pretty: she rolls in the numerous list of my
nephews and nieces.

I am now told that our Indian skirmish was a victory, and that
Tippoo Saib and all his cavalry and elephants, ran away; but sure
I am, that the first impression made on me by those who spread
the news, was not triumphant; nor can I enjoy success in that
country, which we have so abominably usurped and plundered.  You
must wait for a new secretary of state till next post.  The Duke
of Leeds is said to have resigned from bad health.  The Ducs de
Richelieu(784) and De Pienne, and Madame de St. Priest, are
arrived here.  Mr. Fawkener does not go to Berlin till Wednesday
* still the stocks do not believe in the war.

I have exhausted my gazette; and this being both Easter and
Newmarket week, I may possibly have nothing to tell you by
to-morrow se'nnight's post, and may wait till Friday se'nnight:
of which I give you notice, lest you should think I have had a
fall, and hurt my nose which I know gives one's friend a dreadful
alarm.  Good night!

P. S. I never saw such a blotted letter: I don't know how you
will read it.  I am so earnest when writing to YOU two, that I
omit half the words, and write too small; but I will try to mend.

(779) Francis Godolphin Osborne, fifth Duke of Leeds.  In 1776,
he was appointed a lord of the bedchamber, and in 1783, secretary
of state for foreign affairs.  He was succeeded in the office by
Lord Grenville.-E.

(780) The numbers on the division were, for the abolition 88,
against it 163.-E.

(781) In a letter written on this day, Miss More says,--"My time
has been literally passed with thief takers, officers of justice,
and such pretty kind of people."  The young lady, who was an
heiress and only fourteen years of age, had been trepanned away
from school.  All the efforts to discover the victim proved
fruitless; the poor girl having been betrayed into a marriage and
carried to the Continent.-E.

(782) The Earl of Bristol; for an account of whom, see ante, p.
236, letter 182.-E.

(783) A natural daughter of Lord Cholmondeley.

(784) Armand-Emanuel du Plessis, Duc do Richelieu.  He had just
succeeded to the title, by the death of his father. In the
preceding year, he had entered a volunteer into the service of
Catherine the Second, and distinguished himself at the siege of
Ismael, not more by his bravery than his humanity; as appears by
the following anecdote recorded in the "Histoire de la Nouvelle
Russie," tom. iii. p. 217:--"Je sauvai la vie `a une fille de dix
ans, dont l'innocence et la candeur formaient un contraste bien
frappant avec la rage de tout ce qui mlenvironnait.  En arrivant
sur le bastion o`u commen`ca le carnage, j'apperus un groupe de
quatre femmes `egorg`ees, entre lesquelles cet enfant, d'une
figure charmante, cherchait un asile contre la fureur de deux
Kosaks qui `etaient sur le point de la massacrer: ce spectacle
m'attira bient`ot, et je n'h`esitai pas, comme on peut le croire,
prendre entre mes bras cette infortun`ee, que les barbares
voulaient y poursuivre encore." Lord Byron has paraphrased the
affecting incident in the eighth canto of Don Juan:--

"Upon a taken bastion, where there lay
Thousands of slaughter'd men, a yet warm group
Of murder'd women, who had found their way
To this vain refuge, made the good heart droop
And shudder;--while, as beautiful as May,
A female child of ten years tried to stoop
And hide her little palpitating breast
Amidst the bodies lull'd in bloody rest.
Two villainous Cossacques pursued the child
With flashing eyes, and weapons. * * *
Don Juan raised his little captive from
The heap, a moment more had made her tomb."

In 1803, the Duke returned to Russia, and was nominated civil and
military governor of Odessa; -and to his administration," says
Bishop Heber, 44 and not to any natural advantages, the town owes
its prosperity." On the restoration of Louis the Eighteenth, he
was appointed first gentleman of the bedchamber; and in 1815,
president of the council and minister for foreign affairs.  He
finally retired from office in 1820, and died in 1822.-E.



Letter 378 To Miss Berry.
Berkeley Square, May 12, 1791. (page 495)

A letter from Florence (that of April 20th) does satisfy me about
your nose-till I can see it with my own eyes; but I will own to
you now, that my alarm at first went much farther.  I dreaded
lest so violent a fall upon rubbish might not have hurt your
head; though all your letters since have proved how totally that
escaped any danger.  Yet your great kindness in writing to me
yourself so immediately did not tranquillize me, and only proved
your good-nature-but I will not detail my departed fears, nor
need I prove my attachment to you two.  If you were really my
wives, I could not be more generally applied to for accounts of
you; of which I am proud.  I should be ashamed, if, at my age, it
were a ridiculous attachment; but don't be sorry for having been
circumstantial.  My fears did not spring thence; nor did I
suspect your not having told the whole-no; but I apprehended the
accident might be worse than you knew yourself.

Poor Hugh Conway,(785) though his life has long been safe, still
suffers at times from his dreadful blow, and has not yet been
able to come to town: nor would Lord Chatham's humanity put his
ship into commission; which made him so unhappy, that poor
Horatia,(786) doating on him as she does, wrote to beg he might
be employed; preferring her own misery in parting with him to
what she saw him suffer.  Amiable conduct! but, happily, her suit
did not prevail.

I am not at all surprised at the private interviews between
Leopold(787) and C.  I am persuaded that the first must and will
take more part than he has yet seemed to do, and so will others
too; but as speculations are but guesses, I will say no more on
the subject now; nor of your English and Irish travellers, none
of whom I know.  I have one general wish, that you may be amused
while you stay, by the natives of any nation: and I thank you a
thousand times for confirming Your intention of returning by the
beginning of November; which I should not desire coolly, but from
the earnest wish of putting you in possession of Cliveden while I
live; which every body would approve, at least, not wonder at
(Mr. Batt, to whom I have communicated my intention, does
extremely); and the rest would follow of course, as I had done
the same for Mrs. Clive.  I smiled at your making excuses for
your double letter.  Do you think I would not give twelvepence to
hear more of you and your proceedings, than a single sheet would
contain?

The Prince is recovered; that is all the domestic news, except a
most memorable debate last Friday, in the House of Commons.  Mr.
Fox had most imprudently thrown out a panegyric on the French
revolution.(788)  His most considerable friends were much hurt,
and protested to him against such sentiments. Burke went much
farther, and vowed to attack these opinions.  Great pains were
taken to prevent such altercation, and the Prince of Wales is
said to have written a dissuasive letter to Burke: but he was
immovable; and on Friday, on the Quebec Bill, he broke out and
sounded a trumpet against the plot, which he denounced as
carrying on here.  Prodigious clamours and interruption arose
from Mr. Fox's friends: but he, though still applauding the
French, burst into tears and lamentations on the loss of Burke's
friendship, and endeavoured to make atonement; but in vain,
though Burke wept too.  In short, it was the most affecting scene
possible; and undoubtedly an unique one, for both the commanders
were earnest and sincere.(789)  Yesterday, a second act was
expected; but mutual friends prevailed, that the contest should
not be renewed: nay, on the same bill, Mr. Fox made a profession
of his faith, and declared he would venture his life in support
of the present constitution by King, Lords, and Commons.  In
short, I never knew a wiser dissertation, if the newspapers
deliver it justly; and I think all the writers in England cannot
give more profound sense to Mr. Fox than he possesses.  I know no
more particulars, having seen nobody this morning yet.  What
shall I tell you else?  We have expected Mrs. Damer from last
night; and perhaps she may arrive before this sets out to-morrow.

Friday morning, May 13th.

Last night we were at Lady Frederick Campbell's,--the usual
cribbage party, Conways, Mount-Edgcumbes, Johnstones.  At past
ten Mrs. Damer was announced!  Her parents ran down into the
hall, and I scrambled down some of the stairs.  She looks vastly
well, was in great spirits, and not at all fatigued; though she
came from Dover, had been twelve hours at sea from Calais, and
had rested but four days at Paris from Madrid.  We supped, and
stayed till one o'clock; and I shall go to see her as soon as I
am dressed.  Madrid and the Escurial she owns have gained her a
proselyte to painting, which her statuarism had totally engrossed
in her, no wonder.  Of Titian she had no idea, nor have I a just
one, though great faith, as at Venice all his works are now
coal-black: but Rubens, she says, amazed her, and that in Spain
he has even grace.  Her father, yesterday morning, from pain
remaining still in his shoulder from his fall, had it examined by
Dr. Hunter, and a little bone of the collar was found to be
broken, and he must wear his arm for some time in a sling.  Miss
Boyle, I heard last night, had consented to marry Lord Henry
Fitzgerald.  I think they have both chosen well--but I have
chosen better.  Adieu! Care spose!

(785) Lord Hugh Seymour Conway, brother of the then Marquis of
Hertford.

(786) Lady Horatia Waldegrave, his wife.

(787) The Emperor Leopold, then at Florence; whither he had
returned from Vienna, to inaugurate his son in the Grand Duchy of
Tuscany.-E.

(788) In the course of his speech on the 15th of April, during
the debate on the armament against Russia, Mr. Fox had said, that
"he for one admired the new constitution of France, considered
altogether, as the most stupendous and glorious edifice of
liberty which had been erected on the foundation of human
integrity in any time or country."  As soon as he had sat down
Mr. Burke rose, in much visible emotion; but was prevented from
proceeding by the general cry of question.  Mr. Fox regretted the
injudicious zeal of those who would not suffer him to reply on
the spot: "the contention," be said, "might have been fiercer and
hotter, but the remembrance of it would not have settled so deep,
nor rankled so long, in the heart."-E.

(789) With the debate of this day terminated a friendship which
had lasted more than the fourth part of a century.  Mr.
Wilberforce, in his Diary of the 6th of May, states, that he had
endeavoured to prevent the quarrel; and in a letter to a friend,
on the following day, he speaks of "the shameful spectacle of
last night; more disgraceful almost, and more affecting, than the
rejection of my motion for the abolition of the slave trade-a
long tried and close worldly connexion of five-and-twenty years
trampled to pieces in the conflict of a single night!"  The
following anecdote, connected with this memorable evening, is
related by Mr. Curwen, at that time member for Carlisle, in his
Travels in Ireland:--"the powerful feelings were manifested on
the adjournment of the House.  While I was waiting for my
carriage, Mr. Burke came to me and requested, as the night was
wet, I would set him down.  As soon as the carriage-door was
shut, he complimented me on My being no friend to the
revolutionary doctrines of the French; on which he spoke with
great warmth for a few minutes, when he paused to afford me an
opportunity of approving the view he had taken of those measures
in the House.  At the moment I could not help feeling disinclined
to disguise my sentiments: Mr. Burke, catching hold of the
check-string, furiously exclaimed, 'you are one of these people!
set me down!'  With some difficulty I restrained him;-we had then
reached Charingcross: a silence ensued which was preserved till
we reached his house in Gerard-street, when he hurried out of the
carriage without speaking."-E.



Letter 379 To Miss Berry.
Berkeley Square, Thursday, May 19, 1791. (page 497)

Your letter of the 29th, for which you are so good as to make
excuses on not sending it to the post in time, did arrive but two
days later than usual; and as it is now two months from the 16th
of March, and I have so many certificates of the prosperous state
of your pretty nose, I attributed the delay to the elements, and
took no panic.  But how kindly punctual you are, When you charge
yourself' with an irregularity of two days! and when your letters
are so charmingly long, and interest me so much in all you do!
But make no more excuses.  I reproach myself with occasioning so
much waste of your time, that you might employ every hour; for it
is impossible to see all that the Medicis had collected or
encouraged in the loveliest little city, and in such beautiful
environs-nor had I forgotten the Cascines, the only spot
containing English verdure.  Mrs. Damer is as well, if not
better, than she has been a great while: her looks surprise every
body; to which, as she is tanned, her Spanish complexion
contributes.  She and I called, the night before last, on your
friend Mrs. Cholmeley; and they are to make me a visit to-morrow
morning, by their own appointment.  At Dover Mrs. Damer heard the
Gunnings are there: here, they are forgotten.

You are learning perspective, to take views: I am glad.  Can one
have too many resources in one's self?  Internal armour is more
necessary to your sex, than weapons to ours.  You have neither
professions, nor politics, nor ways of getting money, like men;
in any of which, whether successful or not, they are employed.
Scandal and cards you will both always hate and despise, as much
as you do now; and though I shall not flatter Mary so much as to
suppose she will ever equal the extraordinary talent of Agnes in
painting, yet, as Mary, like the scriptural Martha, is occupied
in many things, she is quite in the right to add the pencil to
her other amusements.

I knew the Duchesse de Brissac(790) a little, and but a little,
in 1766.  She was lively and seemed sensible, and had an
excellent character.  Poor M. de Thygnols!(791) to be deprived of
that only remaining child too!--but, how many French one pities,
and how many more one abhors! How dearly will even liberty be
bought, (if it shall prove to be obtained, which I neither think
it is or will be,) by every kind of injustice and violation of
consciences!  How little conscience can they have, who leave to
others no option but between perjury and starving! The Prince de
Chimay I do not know.

After answering the articles of yours, I shall add what I can of
new.  After several weeks spent in search of precedents, for
trials ceasing or not on a dissolution of parliament, the Peers
on Monday sat till three in the morning on the report; when the
Chancellor and Lord Hawkesbury fought for the cessation, but were
beaten by a large majority; which showed that Mr. Pitt(792) has
more weight (at present) in that House too, than--the diamonds of
Bengal.  Lord Hawkesbury protested.  The trial recommences on
Monday next, and has already caused the public fourteen thousand
pounds; the accused, I suppose, much more.

The Countess of Albany(793) is not only in England, in London,
but at this very moment, I believe, in the palace of St.
James's--not restored by as rapid a revolution as the French,
but, as was observed last night at supper at Lady
Mount-Edgcumbe's, by that topsy-turvyhood that characterizes the
present age.  Within these two months the Pope has been burnt at
Paris; Madame du Barry, mistress of Louis Quinze, has dined with
the Lord Mayor of London, and the Pretender's widow is presented
to the Queen of Great Britain!  She is to be introduced by her
great-grandfather's niece, the young Countess of Ailesbury.(794)
That curiosity should bring her hither, I do not quite
wonder-still less that she abhorred her husband; but methinks it
is not very well bred to his family, nor very sensible; but a new
way of passing eldest.

Apropos: I hear there is a medal struck at Rome of her brother-
in-law, as Henry the Ninth; which, as one of their Papal
majesties was so abominably mean as to deny the royal title to
his brother, though for Rome he had lost a crown, I did not know
they allow his brother to assume.  I should be much obliged to
you if you could get one of those medals in copper; ay, and of
his brother, if there was one with the royal title.  I have the
father's and mother's, and all the Popes', in copper; but my
Pope, Benedict the Fourteenth, is the last, and therefore I
should be glad of one of each of his successors, if you can
procure and bring them with little trouble.  I should not be
sorry to have one of the Grand Duke and his father; but they
should be in copper, not only for my suite, but they are sharper
than in silver.

Thursday night.

Well! I have had an exact account of the interview of the two
Queens, from one who stood close to them.  The dowager was
announced as Princess of Stolberg.  She was well-dressed, and not
at all embarrassed.  The King talked to her a good deal; but
about her passage'  the sea, and general topics: the Queen in the
same way, but less.  Then she stood between the Dukes of
Gloucester and Clarence, and had a good deal of conversation with
the former; who, perhaps, may have met her in Italy.  Not a word
between her and the Princesses: nor did I hear of the Prince, but
he was there, and probably spoke to her.  The Queen looked at her
earnestly.  To add to the singularity of the day, it is the
Queen's birthday.  Another odd accident: at the Opera at the
Pantheon, Madame d'Albany was carried into the King's box, and
sat there.  It is not of a piece with her going to court, that
she seals with the royal arms.  I have been told to-night, that
you will not be able to get me a medal of the royal Cardinal, as
very few were struck, and only for presents; so pray give
yourself but little trouble about it.

Boswell has at last published his long-promised Life of Dr.
Johnson, in two volumes in quarto.  I will give you an account of
it when I have gone through it.  I have already perceived, that
in writing the history of Hudibras, Ralpho has not forgot himself
nor will others, I believe, forget him!

(790) The Duc do Brissac was at this time commandant-general of
Louis the Sixteenth's constitutional guard.  In the following
year he was denounced; and in the early days of September put to
death at Versailles, for his attachment to his unfortunate
sovereign.-E.

(791) The Duc de Nivernois, who, at this time, was employed about
the person of Louis the Sixteenth, was denounced by the infamous
Chaumette, and Cast into prison in September 1793; where he
remained till 1796.  He died in 1798.-E.

(792) In Mr. Wilberforce's Diary of the 22d of December, there is
the following entry:--"Hastings's impeachment question. Pitt's
astonishing speech.  This was almost the finest speech he ever
delivered: it was one which you would say at once he never could
have made if he had not been a mathematician.  He put things by
as he proceeded and then returned to the very point from which he
had started, with the most astonishing clearness.  He had all the
lawyers against him, but carried a majority of the House, mainly
by the force of this speech.  It pleased Burke exceedingly.
'Sir,' he said, 'the right honourable gentleman and I have often
been opposed to one another, but his speech tonight has
neutralized my opposition; nay, Sir, he has dulcified me.' "
Life, vol. i. p. 286.-E.

(793) Louisa Maximiliana de Stolberg Goedern, wife of the
Pretender.  After the death of Charles Edward in 1788, she
travelled in Italy and France, and lived with her favourite, the
celebrated Alfieri, to whom she is stated to have been privately
married.  She continued to reside at Paris, until the progress of
the revolution compelled her to take refuge in England.-E.

(794) Lady Anne Rawdon, sister to the first Marquis of Hastings.



Letter 380 To Miss Berry.
Berkeley Square, May 26, 1791. (page 500)

I am rich in letters from you: I received that by Lord Elgin's
courier first, as you expected, and its elder the next day.  You
tell me mine entertain you; tant mieux.  It is my wish, but my
wonder; for I live so little in the world, that I do not know the
present generation by sight: for, though I pass by them in the
streets, the hats with valences, the folds above the chin of the
ladies, and the dirty shirts and shaggy hair of the young men,
who have levelled nobility almost as much as the mobility in
France have, have confounded all individuality.  Besides, if I
did go to public places and assemblies, which my going to roost
earlier prevents, the bats and owls do not begin to fly abroad
till far in the night, when they begin to see and be seen.
However, one of the empresses of fashion, the Duchess of Gordon,
uses fifteen or sixteen hours of her four-and-twenty.  I heard
her journal of last Monday.  She first went to Handel's music in
the Abbey; she then clambered over the benches, and went to
Hastings's trial in the Hall; after dinner to the play; then to
Lady Lucan's assembly; after that to Ranelagh, and returned to
Mrs. Hobart's faro table; gave a ball herself in the evening of
that morning, into which she must have got a good way: and set
out for Scotland the next day.  Hercules could not have achieved
a quarter of her labours in the same space of time, What will the
Great Duke think of our Amazons, if he has letters opened, as the
Emperor was wont!  One of our Camillas,(795) but in a freer
style, I hear, he saw (I fancy just before your arrival); and he
must have wondered at the familiarity of the dame, and the
nincompoophood of her Prince.  Sir William Hamilton is arrived--
his Nymph of the Attitudes!(796) was too prudish to visit the
rambling peeress.

The rest of my letter must be literary; for we have no news.
Boswell's book is gossiping;(797) but, having numbers of proper
names, would be more readable, at least by me, were it reduced
from two volumes to one; but there are woful longueurs, both
about his hero and himself; thefidus Achates; about whom one has
not the smallest curiosity.  But I wrong the original Achates:
one is satisfied with his fidelity in keeping his master's
secrets and weaknesses, which modern led-captains betray for
their patron's glory, and to hurt their own enemies; which
Boswell has done shamefully, particularly against Mrs.  Piozzi,
and Mrs. Montagu, and Bishop Percy.  Dr. Blagden says justly,
that it is a new kind of libel, by which you may abuse any body,
by saying some dead body said so and so of somebody
alive.  Often, indeed, Johnson made the most brutal speeches to
living persons; for though he was good-natured at bottom, he was
very ill-natured at top.  He loved to dispute, to show his
superiority.  If his opponents were weak, he told them they were
fools; if they vanquished him, be was scurrilous--to nobody more
than to Boswell himself, who was contemptible for flattering him
so grossly, and for enduring the coarse things he was continually
vomiting on Boswell's own country, Scotland.  I expected, amongst
the excommunicated, to find myself, but am very gently treated.
I never would be in the least acquainted with Johnson; or, as
Boswell calls it, I had not a just value for him; which the
biographer imputes to my resentment for the Doctor's putting bad
arguments (purposely, out of Jacobitism,) into the speeches which
he wrote fifty years ago for my father, in the Gentleman's
Magazine; which I did not read then, or ever knew
Johnson wrote till Johnson died, nor have looked at since.
Johnson's blind Toryism and known brutality kept me aloof; nor
did I ever exchange a syllable with him: nay, I do not think I
ever was in a room with him six times in my days.  Boswell came
to me, said Dr. Johnson was writing the Lives of the Poets, and
wished I would give him anecdotes of Mr. Gray.  I said, very
coldly, I had given what I knew to Mr. Mason.  Boswell hummed and
hawed, and then dropped, "I suppose you know Dr. Johnson does not
admire Mr. Gray."  Putting as much contempt as I could Into my
look and tone, I said, "Dr. Johnson don't--humph!"--and with that
monosyllable ended our interview.  After the Doctor's death,
Burke, Sir Joshua Reynolds, and Boswell sent an ambling
circular-letter to me, begging subscriptions for a monument for
him--the two last, I think, impertinently; as they could not but
know my opinion, and could not suppose I would contribute to a
monument for one who had endeavoured, poor soul! to degrade my
friend's superlative poetry.  I would not deign to write an
answer; but sent down word by my footman, as I would have done to
parish officers with a brief, that I Would not subscribe.  In the
two new volumes Johnson says, and very probably did, or is made
to say, that 'Gray's poetry is dull, and that he was a dull
man!(798)  The same oracle dislikes Prior, Swift, and Fielding.
If an elephant could write a book, perhaps one that had read a
great deal would say, that an Arabian horse is a very clumsy
ungraceful animal.  Pass to a better chapter!

Burke has published another pamphlet(799) against the French
Revolution, in which he attacks it still more grievously.  The
beginning is very good; but it is not equal, nor quite so
injudicious as parts of its predecessor; is far less brilliant,
as well as much shorter: but, were it ever so long, his mind
overflows with such a torrent of images, that he cannot be
tedious.  His invective against Rousseau is admirable, just, and
new.(799)  Voltaire he passes almost contemptuously.  I wish he
had dissected Mirabeau too; and I grieve that he has omitted the
violation of the consciences of the clergy, nor stigmatized those
universal plunderers, the National Assembly, who gorge themselves
with eighteen livres a-day; which to many of them would, three
years ago, have been astonishing opulence.

When you return, I shall lend you three volumes in quarto of
another Work,(800) With which you will be delighted.  They are
state-letters in the reigns of Henry the Eighth, Mary, Elizabeth,
and James; being the correspondence of the Talbot and Howard
families, given by a Duke of Norfolk to the Herald's-office;
where they have lain for a century neglected, buried under dust,
and unknown, till discovered by a Mr. Lodge, a genealogist, who,
to gratify his passion, procured to be made a poursuivant.  Oh!
how curious they are! Henry seizes an alderman who refused to
contribute to a benevolence: sends him to the army on the
borders; orders him to be exposed in the front line; and if that
does not do, to be treated with the utmost rigour of military
discipline.  His daughter Bess is not less a Tudor.  The mean,
unworthy treatment of the queen of Scots is striking; and you
will find Elizabeth's jealousy of her crown and her avarice were
at war, and how the more ignoble passion predominated.  But the
most amusing passage is one in a private letter, as it paints the
awe of children for their parents a little differently from
modern habitudes.  Mr. Talbot, second son of the Earl of
Shrewsbury, was a member of the House of Commons, and was
married.  He writes to the Earl his father, and tells him, that a
young woman of a very good character, has been recommended to him
for chambermaid to his wife, and if his lordship does not
disapprove of it, he will hire her.  There are many letters of
news, that are very entertaining too--but it is nine o'clock, and
I must go to Lady Cecilia's.

Friday.

The Conways, Mrs. Damer, the Farrens, and Lord Mount-Edgcumbe
supped at the Johnstones'.  Lord Mount-Edgcumbe said excellently,
that "Mademoiselle D'Eon is her own widow."  I wish I had seen
you both in your court-plis, at your presentation; but that is
only one wish amongst a thousand.

(795) Lady Craven; who was at this time in Italy with the
Margravine of Anspach.  Lord Craven died at Lausanne in
September, and the lady was married to the Margrave in October
following.-E.

(796) Miss Martel married, in the following September, to Sir
William Hamilton-the lady, the infatuated attachment to whom has
been said to have been "the only cloud that obscured the bright
fame Of the immortal Nelson." By the following passage in a
letter, written by Romney the painter to Hagley the poet on the
19th of June, it will be seen that she had not been many days in
England, before a warm passion for her was engendered in the
breast of the artist:--"At present, and for the greatest part of
the summer, I shall be engaged in painting pictures from the
divine lady: I cannot give her any other epithet; for I think her
superior to all womankind.  She asked me if you would not write
my life: I told her you had begun it-then, she said, she hoped
you would have much to say of her in the life; as she prides
herself in being my model."-E.

(797) On the first appearance of his most interesting and
instructive Life of Dr. Johnson, a considerable outcry was raised
against poor Boswell.  On the subject of this outcry, Mr. Croker
in the introduction to his valuable edition of the work,
published in 1831, makes the following excellent observations:--
"Whatever doubts may have existed as to the prudence or the
propriety of the original publication--however naturally private
confidence was alarmed, or individual vanity offended--the voices
of criticism and complaint were soon drowned in the general
applause.  And, no wonder; the work combines within itself the
four most entertaining classes of writing--biography, memoirs,
familiar letters, and that assemblage of literary anecdotes,
which the French have taught us to distinguish by the termination
Ana.  It was a strange and fortuitous concurrence, that one so
prone to talk, and who talked so well, should be brought into
such close contact and confidence with one so zealous and so able
to record.  Dr. Johnson was a man of extraordinary powers; but
Mr. Boswell had qualities, in their own way, almost as rare.  He
United lively manners with indefatigable diligence, and the
volatile curiosity of a man about town with the drudging patience
of a chronicler.  With a very good opinion of himself, he was
quick in discerning, and frank in applauding the excellencies of
others.  His contemporaries, indeed, not without some colour of
reason, occasionally complained of him as vain, troublesome, and
giddy; but his vanity was inoffensive--his curiosity was commonly
directed towards laudable objects--when he meddled, be did so,
generally, from good-natured motives--and his giddiness was only
an exuberant gaiety, which never failed in the respect and
reverence due to literature, morals, and religion'  ' and
posterity grate taste, temper, and talents with which he
selected, enjoyed, and described that polished intellectual
society which still lives in his work, and without his work had
perished!"  Mr. Croker's edition of the work is the eleventh; and
since its appearance, a twelfth, in ten pocket volumes, with
embellishments has been given to the world, by Mr. Murray, of
which thousands are understood to have been called for.  Whenever
Walpole, in the course of his correspondence, has had occasion to
introduce the name of Boswell, he has uniformly spoken so
disparagingly of him, that it is but justice to his memory to
append to the above extract, a passage or two, in which other
writers have recorded their estimation of him.  Mr. Burke told
Sir James Mackintosh, that "he thought Johnson appeared greater
in Boswell's volumes than even in his own."  Sir Walter Scott,
speaking of the Doctor, says, "he yet is, in our mind's eye, a
personification as lively as that of Siddons in Lady Macbeth, or
Kemble in Cardinal Wolsey; and all this arises from his having
found in Boswell such a biographer as no man but himself ever
had." In the opinion of the Edinburgh Reviewers, Boswell was "the
very prince of retail wits and philosophers," and his Life of
Johnson is pronounced to be "one of the best books in the world--
a great, a very great work;" while the quarterly Review considers
it "the richest dictionary of wit and wisdom, any language can
boast, and that to the influence of Boswell we owe, probably,
three-fourths of what is most entertaining, as well as no
inconsiderable portion of whatever is most instructive, in all
the books of memoirs that have subsequently appeared."-E.

(797) Dr. Johnson's attack upon Gray was undoubtedly calculated
to give great offence to Walpole: "Sir, he was dull in company,
dull in his closet, dull every where: he was dull in a new way,
and that made many people think him great: he was a mechanical
poet."-E.

(798) This was the "Letter from Mr. Burke to a member of the
National Assembly."-E.

(799) "We have had," says Mr. Burke, "the great professor and
founder of the philosophy of vanity in England.  As I had good
opportunities of knowing his proceedings, almost from day to day,
he left no doubt on my mind that he entertained no principle,
either to influence his heart or to guide his understanding, but
vanity; with this vice he was possessed to a degree little short
of madness.  Benevolence to the whole species, and want of
feeling for every individual with whom the professors come in
contact, form the character of the new philosophy.  Setting up
for an unsocial independence, this their hero of vanity refuses
the just price of common labour, as well as the tribute which
opulence owes to genius, and which when paid, honours the giver
and the receiver: and then he pleads his beggary as an excuse for
his crimes.  He melts with tenderness for those only who touch
him by the remotest relation; and then, without one natural pang,
casts away as a sort of offal and excrement, the spawn of his
disgustful amours, and sends his children to the hospital of
foundlings.  The bear loves, licks, and forms her young; but
bears are not philosophers."-E.

(800) This was Lodge's "Illustrations of British History,
Biography, and Manners, in the Reigns of Henry the Eighth, Edward
the Sixth, Mary, Elizabeth and James the First;" a work which has
also been highly praised by Mr. Gifford, Sir Walter Scott, Sir
Egerton Brydges, Mr. Park, and others.-E.



Letter 381 To The Miss Berrys.
Berkeley Square, June 2, 1791. (page 504)

To the tune of the Cow with the crumpled Horn, etc.
"This is the note that nobody wrote."
"
This is the groom that carried the note that nobody wrote.

"This is Ma'am Gunning, Who was so very cunning, to examine the
groom that carried the note that nobody wrote.

"This is Ma'am Bowen, to whom it was owing,
that Miss Minify Gunning was so very cunning, to examine the
groom that carried the note that nobody wrote.

"These are the Marquisses shy of the horn, who caused the maiden
all for-Lorn, to become on a sudden so tattered and torn, that
Miss Minify Gunning was so very cunning, to examine the groom,
etc.

"These are the two Dukes, whose sharp rebukes made the two
Marquesses shy of the horn, and caused the maiden all for-Lorn,
etc.

"This is the General somewhat too bold, whose head was so hot,
though his heart was so cold; who proclaimed himself single
before it was meet, and his wife and his daughter turned into the
street, to please the Dukes, whose sharp rebukes," etc.

This is not at all new; I have heard it once or twice
imperfectly, but could not get a copy till now; and I think it
will divert you for a moment, though the heroines are as much
forgotten as Boadicea; nor have I heard of them since their
arrival at Dover.

Well! I have seen Madame d'Albany who has not a ray of royalty
about her.  She has good eyes and teeth; but I think can have had
no more beauty than remains, except youth.  She is civil and
easy, but German and ordinary.  Lady Ailesbury made a small
assemblage for her on Monday, and my curiosity is satisfied.  Mr.
Conway and Lady A., Lord and Lady Frederic Campbell, and Mrs. E.
Hervey and Mrs. Hervey, breakfasted with me that morning at
Strawberry, at the desire of the latter, who had never been
there; and whose commendations were so promiscuous, that I saw
she did not at all understand the style of the place.  The day
was northeasterly and cold, and wanting rain; and I was not sorry
to return into town.  I hope in five months to like staying there
much better.  Mrs. Damer, who returned in such Spanish health,
has already caught an English northeastern cold; with pain in all
her limbs, and a little fever, and yesterday was not above two
hours out of her bed.  Her father came to me from her before
dinner, and left her better; and I shall go to her presently;
and, this not departing till to-morrow, I hope to give you a
still more favourable account.  These two days may boldly assume
the name of June, without the courtesy of England.  Such weather
makes me wish myself at Strawberry, whither I shall betake myself
on Saturday.



505 Letter 382
To The Miss Berrys.
Berkeley Square, June 8, 1791.

Your No. 34, that was interrupted, and of which the last date
was of May 24th, I received on the 6th, and if I could find
fault, it would be in the length; for I do not approve of your
writing so much in hot weather, for, be it known to you ladies,
that from the first of the month, June is not more June at
Florence, My hay is crumbling away; and I have ordered it to be
cut, as a sure way of bringing rain.  I have a selfish reason,
too, for remonstrating against long letters.  I feel the season
advancing, when mine will be piteous short for what can I tell
you from Twickenham in the next three or four months'! Scandal
from Richmond and Hampton Court, or robberies at my own door?
The latter, indeed, are blown already.  I went to Strawberry on
Saturday, to avoid the birthday crowd and squibs and crackers.
At six I drove to Lord Strafford's, where his goods are to be
sold by auction; his sister, Lady Anne,(801) intending to pull
down the house and rebuild it.  I returned a quarter before
seven; and in the interim between my Gothic gate and Ashe's
nursery, a gentleman and gentlewoman, in a one-horse chair and
in the broad face of the sun, had been robbed by a single
highwayman, sans mask. Ashe's mother and sister stood and saw
it; but having no notion of a robbery at such an hour in the
high-road and before their men had left work, concluded it was
an acquaintance of the robber's. I suppose Lady Cecilia
Johnstone will not descend from her bedchamber to the
drawing-room without life-guard men.  The Duke of Bedford(802)
eclipsed the whole birthday by his clothes, equipage, and
servants - six of the latter walked on' the side of the coach
to keep off the crowd-or to tempt it; for their liveries were
worth an argosie.  The Prince *as gorgeous too - the latter is
to give Madame d'Albany a dinner.  She has been introduced to
Mrs. Fitzherbert.  You know I used to call Mrs. Cosway's(803)
concerts Charon's boat; now, methinks, London is so.  I am glad
Mrs. C. is with you; she is pleasing-but surely it is odd to
drop a child and her husband and country, all in a breath! I am
glad you are disfranchised of the exiles.  We have several, I
am told, hire; but I strictly confine myself to those I knew
formerly at Paris, and who all are quartered on Richmond Green.
I went to them on Sunday evening, but found them gone to Lord
Fitzwilliam's, the next house to Madame de Boufflers', to hear
his organ; whither I followed them, and returned with them.
The Comtesse Emilie played on her harp; then we all united at
loto.  I went home at twelve, unrobbed; and Lord Fitzwilliam,
who asked much after you both, was to set out the next morning
for Dublin, though intending to stay there but four days, and
be back in three weeks.

I am sorry you did not hear all Monsieur do Lally
Tollendal's(804) tragedy, of which I have had a good account.
I like his tribute to his father's memory.(805)  Of French
politics you must be tired; and so am I.  Nothing appears to me
to promise their chaos duration; consequently, I expect more
chaos, the sediment of which is commonly despotism.  Poland
ought to make the French blush-but that, they are not apt to do
on any occasion.  Let us return to Strawberry.  The house of
Sebright breakfasted there with me on Monday; the daughter had
given me a drawing, and I owed her a civility.  Thank you for
reminding me of falls: in one sense I am more liable to them
than when you left me, for I am sensibly much weaker since my
last fit; but that weakness makes me move much slower, and
depend more on assistance.  In a word, there is no care I do
not take of myself: my heart is set on installing you at
Cliveden; and it will not be my fault if I do not preserve
myself till then.  If another summer is added, it will be
happiness indeed--but I am not presumptuous, and count the days
only till November.  I am glad you, on your parts, repose till
your journey commences, and go not into sultry crowded lodgings
at the Ascension.  I was at Venice in summer, and thought
airing on stinking ditches pestilential, after enjoying the
delicious nights on the Ponte di Trinit`a at Florence, in a
linen night-gown and a straw hat, with improvisatori.  and
music, and the coffee-houses open with ices--at least, such
were the customs fifty years ago,.

The Duke of St. Albans has cut down all the brave old trees at
Hanworth, and consequently reduced his park to what it issued
from Hounslow-heath: nay, he has hired a meadow next to mine,
for the benefit of embarkation; and there lie all the good old
corpses of oaks, ashes, and chestnuts, directly before your
windows, and blocking up one of my views of the river! but so
impetuous is the rage for building, that his grace's timber
will, I trust, not annoy us long.  There will soon be one
street from London to Brentford; ay, and from London to every
village ten miles round! Lord Camden has just let ground at
Kentish Town for building fourteen hundred houses--nor do I
wonder; London is, I am certain, much fuller than ever I saw
it.  I have twice this spring been going to stop my coach in
Piccadilly, to inquire what was the matter, thinking there was
a mob--not at all; it was only passengers.  Nor is there any
complaint of depopulation from the country: Bath shoots out
into new crescents, circuses, and squares every year:
Birmingham, Manchester, Hull, and Liverpool would serve ay King
in Europe for a capital, and would make the Empress of Russia's
mouth water.  Of the war with Catherine Slay-Czar I hear not a
breath, and thence conjecture it is dozing into peace.

Mr. Dundas has kissed hands for secretary of state; and Bishop
Barrington, of Salisbury, is transferred to Durham, which he
affected not to desire, having large estates by his wife in the
south-but from
the triple-mitre downwards, it is almost always true, what I
said some years ago, that "nolo episcopari is Latin for I
lie.-- Tell it not in Gath that I say so; for I am to dine
to-morrow at the Bishop of London's, at Fulham, with Hannah
Bonner, my imprime.  This morning I went with Lysons the
Reverend to see Dulwich college, founded in 1619 by Alleyn, a
player, which I had never seen in my many days.  e were
received by a smart divine, tr`es bien poudr`e, and with black
satin breeches--but they are giving new wings and red satin
breeches to the good old hostel too, and destroying a gallery
with a very rich ceiling; and nothing will remain of ancient
but the front, and an hundred mouldy portraits, among apostles,
sibyls, and Kings of England.  On Sunday I shall settle at
Strawberry; and then wo betide you on post-days! I cannot make
news without straw.  The Johnstones are going to Bath, for the
healths of both; so Richmond will be my only staple.  Adieu,
all three!

(801) Lady Anne Wentworth, married to the Right Honourable
Thomas Conolly.

(802) Francis, fifth Duke of Bedford.  He died at Woburn, in
March 1802, at the early age of thirty-one; upon which event,
Mr. Fox, in moving for a new writ for Tavistock, in the room of
his brother John, who succeeded to the dukedom, pronounced an
eloquent eulogium on the deceased-the only speech he could ever
be prevailed upon to revise for publication-E.

(803) Maria Cosway, the wife of the eminent painter, and
herself distinguished for her proficience both in painting and
music.  She was a native of Italy but of English parentage; and
being passionately fond of music, her soir`ees in Pall-Mall and
afterwards in Stratford-place, were attended by all the fashion
of the town.  In consequence of ill-health, accompanied by her
brother, who had gained, as a student in painting, the
Academy's gold metal, she had left England for Italy; where she
remained about three years.-E

(804) The celebrated Count Lally do Tollendal.  In 1789, he was
one of the most eloquent members of the Constituent Assembly;
but disapproving of the principles that prevailed, he retired
into Switzerland, Gibbon, in a letter of the 15th of December
of that year, says of him, "Lally is an amiable man of the
world, and a poet: he passes the winter here; you know how much
I prefer a quiet select society to a crowd of names and titles:
what happy countries are England and Switzerland, if they know
and preserve their happiness!"  Having returned to France in
1792, he was sent to the Abbaye; whence he escaped during the
massacres which took place in the prisons in September, and
effected his retreat to England, where he found an asylum in
the house of Lord Sheffield.  On the restoration of the
Bourbons, he was created a peer of France, and died in 1830.
The subject of the tragedy above alluded to was the fall of the
Earl of Strafford.-E.

(805) The unfortunate Count do Lally, governor of Pondicherry;
who, on the surrender of the place to the English in 1761, was
made prisoner of war, and sent to England.  In the Chatham
Correspondence, there is a letter from him to Mr. Pitt, written
in English; in which he says, "When I shall have seen and heard
here of Mr. Pitt all I have already read of him, I shall always
remember I am his prisoner, and liberty to me, though a
Frenchman, is of an inestimable value; therefore, I earnestly
beg your interest with his Majesty to grant me leave to repair
to my native soil." The desired permission was granted; but no
sooner had he reached Paris, than he was thrown into the
Bastille, and after being confined several years, brought to
trial for treachery and found guilty.  When his sentence was
pronounced, "the excess of his indignation," says Voltaire, "
was equal to his astonishment: he inveighed against his judges,
and, holding in his hand a pair of compasses, which he used for
tracing maps in his prison, he struck it against his heart; but
the blow was not sufficient to take away life; he was dragged
into a dung-cart, with a gag in his mouth, lest, being
conscious of his innocence, he should convince the Spectators
of the injustice of his fate." Madame du Deffand, in giving to
Walpole, on the 10th of January 1766, an account of this
horrible scene, having stated, that the populace "battait des
mains pendant l'ex`ecution," he returned her an answer, in a
high degree honourable to his moral feeling:--"Ah! Madame,
Madame, quelles horreurs me racontez-vous la! Qu'on ne dise
jamais que les Anglais sent durs et f`eroces.  Veritablement ce
sent les Fran`cais qui le sent, Oui, oui, vous `etes des
sauvages, des Iroquois, vous autres.  On a bien massacr`e des
gens chez nous, mais a-t-on jamais vu battre des Mains pendant
qu'on mettait `a mort un pauvre malheureux, un officier
general, qui avait langui pendant deux ans en prison?  un homme
enfin si sensible `a l'honneur, qu'il n'avait pas voulu se
sauver!  si touch`e de la disgrace qu'il chercha `a avaler les
grilles de sa prison plut`ot que de se voir expos`e `a
l'ignominie publique; et c'est exactement cette honn`ete pudeur
qui fait qu'on le traine dans un tombereau, et qu'on lui met un
baillon `a la bouche comme au dernier des sc`elerats.  Mon
Dieu! que je suis aise d'avoir quitt`e Paris avant cette
horrible sc`ene! je me serais fait d`echirer, ou mettre `a la
Bastille."-E.



Letter 383 To The Miss Berrys.

Strawberry Hill, June 14, 1791.(page 508)


I pity you! what a dozen or fifteen uninteresting letters are
you
going to receive! for here I am, unlikely to have any thing to
tell you worth sending.  You had better come back
incontinently-but pray do not prophesy any more; you have been
the death of our summer, and we are in close mourning for it in
coals and ashes.  It froze hard last night: I went out for a
moment to look at my haymakers, and was starved.  The contents
of
an English June are, hay and ice, orange-flowers and
rheumatisms!
I am now cowering over the fire.  Mrs. Hobart had announced a
rural breakfast at Sans-Souci last Saturday; nothing being so
pastoral as a fat grandmother in a row of houses on Ham Common.
It rained early in the morning: she despatched postboys, for
want
of Cupids and zephyrs, to stop the nymphs and shepherds who
tend
their flocks in Pall-Mall and St. James's- street; but half of
them missed the couriers and arrived.  Mrs. Montagu was more
splendid yesterday morning, and breakfasted seven hundred
persons
on opening her great room, and the room with the hangings of
feathers.  The King and Queen had been with her last week.  I
should like to have heard the orations she had prepared on the
occasion.  I was neither City-mouse nor country-mouse.  I did
dine at Fulham on Saturday with the Bishop of London: Mrs.
Boscawen, Mrs. Garrick, and Hannah More were there; and Dr.
Beattie, whom I had never seen.  He is quiet, simple, and
cheerful, and pleased me.  There ends my tale, this instant,
Tuesday!  How shall I fill a couple of pages more by Friday
morning! Oh! ye ladies on the Common, and ye uncommon ladies in
London, have pity on a poor gazetteer, and supply me with
eclogues or royal panegyrics Moreover--or rather more under--I
have had no letter from you these ten days, though the east
wind
has been as constant as Lord Derby.  I say not this in
reproach,
as you are so kindly punctual; but as it stints me from having
a
single paragraph to answer.  I do not admire specific responses
to every article; but they are great resources on a dearth.


Madame de Boufflers is ill of a fever, and the Duchess de
Biron(806) goes next week to Switzerland:--mais qu'est que cela
vous fait? I must eke out this with a few passages that I think
will divert you, from the heaviest of all books, Mr. Malone's
Shakspeare, in ten thick octavos, with notes, that are an
extract
of all the opium that is spread through the works of all the
bad
playwrights of that age.  Mercy on the poor gentleman's
patience!
Amongst his other indefatigable researches he has discovered
some
lists of effects in the custody of the property-man to the Lord
Admiral's company of players, in 1598.  Of those effects he has
given eight pages-you shall be off for a few items; viz.  "My
Lord Caffe's [Caiaphas's] gercheri [jerkin] and his hoose
[hose];
one rocke, one tombe, one Hellemought [Hell-mouth], two
stepelles
and one chyme of belles, one chaine of Dragons, two coffines,
one
bulle's head, one vylter, one goste's crown, and one frame for
the heading of black Jone; one payer of stayers for Fayeton,
and
bowght a robe for to goo invisabell." The pair of stairs for
Phaeton reminds one of Hogarth's Strollers dressing in a barn,
where Cupid on a ladder is reaching Apollo's stockings, that
are
hanging to dry on the clouds; as the steeples do of a story in
L'Histoire du Th`eatre Fran`cois: Jodelet, who not only wrote
plays, but invented the decorations, was to exhibit of both
before Henry the Third.  One scene was to represent a view of
the
sea, and Jodelet had bespoken two rochers; but not having time
to
rehearse, what did he behold enter on either side of the stage,
instead of two rochers, but two clochers! Who knows but my Lord
Admiral bought them?


Berkeley Square, Thursday, 16th.


I am come to town for one night, having promised to be at Mrs.
Buller's this evening with Mrs. Damer, and I believe your
friend,
Mrs. Cholmeley, whom I have seen two or three times lately and
like much.  Three persons have called on me since I came, but
have not contributed a tittle of news to my journal.  If I hear
nothing to-night, this must depart, empty as it is, to-morrow
morning, as I shall for Strawberry; I hope without finding a
new
mortification, as I did last time.  Two companies had been to
see
my house last week; and one of the parties, as vulgar people
always see with the ends of their fingers, had broken off the
end
of my invaluable Eagle's bill, and to conceal their mischief,
had
pocketed the piece.  It is true it had been restored at Rome,
and
my comfort is, that Mrs. Damer can repair the damage--but did
the
fools know that?  It almost provokes one to shut up one's
house,
when obliging begets injury!


Friday noon.


This moment I receive your 35th, to which I have nothing to
answer, but that I believe Fox and Burke are not very cordial;
though I do not know whether there has been any formal
reconciliation or not.  The Parliament is prorogued; and we
shall
hear no more of them, I suppose, for some months; nor have I
learnt any thing new, and am returning to Strawberry, and must
finish.


(806) Am`elie de Boufflers, wife of Armand-Louis de Gontaut,
Duc
do Biron, better known in England by the title of Duc de
Lauzan.
By a letter from Madame Necker to Gibbon, the Duchesse appears
to
have been at Lausanne in October; but in the following
September
, tempted," says Gibbon, " by some faint, and I fear,
fallacious
hope Of clemency to the women", she was induced to revisit
France, and perished by the guillotine, in one of Robespierre's
bloody proscriptions.  See vol. v. pp. 133, 400. The Duc was
entrusted with the command of the army of the republic in La
Vend`ee; but, being reproached with having suffered Niort to be
besieged and with not having seconded westermann, he was
denounced at the bar of the Convention, delivered over to the
revolutionary tribunal, and condemned to death. He suffered on
the 31st of December 1793, and is words upon the scaffold are
said to have been, "I have been false to my God, my order, and
my
king: I die full of faith and repentance." See his "M`emoires,
"
in two volumes 8vo. published in 1802.-E.



Letter 384To Miss Berry.
Strawberry Hill, June 23, 1791. (page 510)

Wo is me!  I have not an atom of news to send you, but that the
second edition of Mother Hubbard's Tale was again spoiled on
Saturday last by the rain; yet she had an ample assemblage of
company from London and the neighbourhood.  The late Queen of
France, Madame du Barry, was there; and the late Queen of
England, Madame d'Albany, was not.  The former, they say, is as
much altered as her kingdom, and does not retain a trace of her
former powers.  I saw her on her throne in the chapel of
Versailles;(807) and, though then pleasing in face and person, I
thought her un peu pass`e.  What shall I tell you more? that Lord
Hawkesbury is added to the cabinet-council--que vous importe? and
that Dr. Robertson has published a Disquisition into the Trade of
the Anchellts with India;(808) a sensible work--but that will be
no news to you till you return.  It was a peddling trade in those
days.  They now and then picked up an elephant's tooth, or a
nutmeg, or one pearl, that served Venus for a pair of pendants,
when Antony had toasted Cleopatra in a bumper of its fellow;
which shows that a couple was imported:-but.  alack! the Romans
were so ignorant, that waiters from the Tres Tabernoe, in St.
Apollo's-street, did not carry home sacks of diamonds enough to
pave the Capitol--I hate exaggerations, and therefore I do not
say, to pave the Appian Way.  One author, I think, does say, that
the wife of Fabius Pictor, whom he sold to a proconsul, did
present Livia(809) with an ivory bed, inlaid with Indian gold;
but, as Dr. Robertson does not mention it, to be sure he does not
believe the fact well authenticated.

It is an anxious moment with the poor French here: a strong
notion is spread, that the Prince of Cond`e will soon make some
attempt; and the National Assembly, by their pompous blustering
seem to dread it.  Perhaps the moment is yet too early, till
anarchy is got to a greater head; but as to the duration of the
present revolution, I no more expect it, than I do the millennium
before Christmas.  Had the revolutionists had the sense and
moderation of our ancestors, or of the present Poles, they might
have delivered and blessed their country: but violence,
injustice, and savage cruelty, tutored by inexperienced pedantry,
produce offspring exactly resembling their parents, or turn their
enemies into similar demons.  Barbarity will be copied by
revenge.

Lord Fitzwilliam has flown to Dublin and back.  He returned to
Richmond on the fourteenth day from his departure, and the next
morning set out for France: no courier can do more.  In my last,
the description of June for orange-flowers, pray read roses: the
east winds have starved all the former; but the latter, having
been settled here before the wars of York and Lancaster, are
naturalized to the climate, and reek not whether June arrives in
summer or winter.  They blow by their own old-style almanacks.
Madame d'Albany might have found plenty of white ones on her own
tenth of June; but, on that very day, she chose to go to see the
King in the House of Lords, with the crown on his head,
proroguing the Parliament.(810)  What an odd rencontre! Was it
philosophy or insensibility? I believe it is certain that her
husband was in Westminster-hall at the coronation.

The patriarchess of the Methodists, Lady Huntingdon, is dead.
Now she and Whitfield are gone, the sect will probably decline: a
second crop of apostles seldom acquire the influence of the
founders.  To-day's paper declares upon its say-so, that Mr.
Fawkener is at hand, with Catherine Slay-Czar's(811) acquiescence
to our terms; but I have not entire faith in a precursor on such
an occasion, and from Holland too.  It looks more like a courier
to the stocks; and yet I am in little expectation of a war, as I
believe we are boldly determined to remain at peace.  And now my
pen is quite dry-you are quite sure not from laziness, but from
the season of the year, which is very anti-correspondent.  Adieu!

(807) See letter to George Montagu, Esq., Sept. 17, 1769, vol.3,
letter 371.

(808) This work, which was the last labour of the historian, was
suggested by the perusal of Major Rennell's "Memoir of a Map of
Hindostan."  In sending a copy of it to Gibbon, he says "No man
had formed a more decided resolution of retreating early from
public view' and of spending the eve of life in the tranquillity
of professional and domestic occupations; but, directly in the
face of that purpose, I step forth with a new work, when just on
the brink of threescore and ten.  My book has met with a
reception beyond what the spe lentus, pavidusque futuri, dared to
expect.  I find, however, like other parents, that I have a
partial fondness for this child of my old age, and cannot set my
heart quite at rest, until I know your opinion of it."-E.

(809) This alludes to the stories told at the time, of an ivory
bed, inlaid with gold, having been presented to Queen Charlotte
by Mrs. Hastings, the wife of the governor-general of India.

(810) " The Bishop of London' " writes Hannah More, " carried me
to hear the King make his speech in the House of Lords.  As it
was quite new to me, I was very well entertained; but the thing
that was most amusing was to see, among the ladies, the Princess
of Stolberg, Countess of Albany, wife to the Pretender, sitting
just at the foot of that throne, which she might once have
expected to have mounted; and what diverted the party, when I put
them in mind of it, was, that it happened to be the 10th of June,
the Pretender's birthday.  I have the honour to be very much like
her; and this opinion was confirmed yesterday, when we met
again."-Memoirs, vol. ii. p. 343.-E.

(811) Walpole rarely makes mention of Catherine without an
allusion to the murder of the Czar Peter.  in a letter written to
Madame du Deffand, in 1769 he thus indignantly denounce
Voltaire's applauses of the Empress:--"Voltaire me fait horreur
Avec sa Caterine: le beau sujet de badinage que l'assassinat d'un
mari, et l'usurpateur de son tr`one!  Il n'est pas mal, dit-il,
qu'on ait une faute r`eparer: eh! comment reparer un meurtre?
Est-ce en retenant des po`etes `a ses gages? en payant des
historiens mercenaires, et en soudoyant des philosophes ridicules
`a mille lieues dc son pays? Ce sent ces `ames viles qui chantent
un Auguste, et se taisent sur ses proscriptions."-E.



Letter 385 To Miss Berry.
Strawberry Hill, Tuesday night, July 12, 1791. (page 512)

I had had no letter from you for ten days, I suppose from west
winds; but did receive one this morning, which had been three
weeks on the road: and a charming one it was.  Mr. Batt,--who
dined with me Yesterday, and stayed till after breakfast
to-day,--being here, I read part of It to him; and he was as much
delighted as I was with your happy quotation of incedit Regina.
If I could spare so much room, I might fill this paper with all
he said of you both, and with all the friendly kind things he
begged me to say to both from him.  Last night I read to him'
certain Reminiscences; and this morning he slipped from me, and
walked to Cliveden, and hopes to see it again much more
agreeably.  I hope so too, and that I shall be with him.

I wish there were not so many f`etes at Florence; they are worse
for you both than an Italian sultriness: but, if you do go to
them, I am glad you have More northern weather.  News I have
none, but that Calonne arrived in London on Sunday: you may be
sure I do not know for what.  In a word, I have no more opinion
of his judgment than of his integrity.  Now I must say a syllable
about myself; but don't be alarmed!  It is not the gout; it is
worse: it is the rheumatism, which I have had in my shoulder ever
since it attended the gout last December.  It was almost gone
till last Sunday, when, the Bishop of London preaching a charity
sermon in our church, -whither I very.  very seldom venture to
hobble, I would go to hear him; both out of civility, and as I am
very intimate with him.  The church was crammed; and, though it
rained, every window was open.  However, at night I went to bed;
but at two I waked with such exquisite pain in my, rheumatic
right shoulder, that I think I scarce ever felt greater torture
from the gout.



Letter 386 To The Miss Berrys.
Strawberry Hill, July 26, 1791. (page 512)

Ten months are gone of the longest year that ever was born--a
baker's year, for it has thirteen months to the dozen!  As our
letters are so long interchanging, it is not beginning too early
to desire You will think of settling the stages to which I must
direct to you in your route.  Nay, I don't know whether it is not
already too late: I am sure it will be, if I am to stay for an
answer to this; but I hope you will have thought on it before you
receive this.  I am so much recovered as to have been abroad.  I
cannot say my arm is glib yet; but, if I waited for the total
departure of' the rheumatism, I might stay at home till the
national debt is paid.  My fair writing is a proof of my
lameness: I labour as if I were engraving; and drop no words, as
I do in my ordinary hasty scribbling.

Lady Cecilia tells me that her nephew, Mr. West,(812) who was
with you at Pisa, declares he is in love with you both; so I am
not singular.  You two may like to hear this, though no novelty
to you; but it will not satisfy Mr. Berry, who will be impatient
for news from Birmingham: but there are no more, nor any-whence
else.  There has not been another riot in any of the three
kingdoms.  The villain Paine came over for the Crown and
Anchor;(813)  but, finding that his pamphlet had not set a straw
on fire, and that the 14th of July was as little in fashion as
the ancient gunpowder-plot, he dined at another tavern with a few
quaking conspirators; and probably is returning to Paris, where
he is engaged in a controversy with the Abb`e Sieyes, about the
plus or minus of rebellion.  The rioters in Worcestershire, whom
I mentioned in my last, were not a detachment from Birmingham,
but volunteer incendiaries from the capital; who went, according
to the rights of men, with the mere view of plunder, and
threatened gentlemen to burn their houses, if not ransomed.
Eleven of these disciples of Paine are in custody; and Mr. Merry,
Mrs. Barbauld, and Miss Helen Williams will probably have
subjects for elegies.  Deborah and Jael, I believe, were invited
to the Crown and Anchor, and had let their nails grow
accordingly: but, somehow or other, no poissonni`eres were there,
and the two prophetesses had no opportunity that day of
exercising their talents or talons.  Their French allies, cock
and hen, have a fairer field open; and the Jacobins, I think,
will soon drive the National Assembly to be better royalists than
ever they were, in selfdefence.

You have indeed surprised me by your account of the strange
credulity of poor King Louis's escape in safety! In these
villages we heard of his flight late in the evening, and, the
very next morning, of his being retaken.(814)  Much as he, at
least the Queen, has suffered, I am persuaded the adventure has
hastened general confusion, and will increase the royal party;
though perhaps their Majesties, for their personal safeties, had
better have awaited the natural progress of anarchy.  The
enormous deficiencies of money, and the total insubordination of
the army, both apparent and uncontradicted, from the reports made
to the National Assembly, show what is Coming.  Into what such a
chaos will Subside, it would be silly to attempt to guess.
Perhaps it is not wiser in the exiles to expect to live to see a
resettlement in their favour.  One thing I have for these two
years thought probable to arrive--a division, at least, a
dismemberment of France.  Despotism could no longer govern so
unwieldy a machine; a republic would be still less likely to hold
it together.  If foreign powers should interfere, they will take
care to pay themselves with what is `a leur biensance; and that,
in reality, would be serving France too.  So much for my
speculations! and they have never varied.  We are so far from
intending to new-model our government and dismiss the Royal
Family, annihilate the peerage, cashier the hierarchy, and lay
open the land to the first occupier, as Dr. Priestley, and Tom
Paine, and the Revolution Club humbly proposed, that we are even
encouraging the breed of princes.  It is generally believed that
the Duke of York is going to marry the Princess of Prussia, the
King's daughter by his first wife, and his favourite child.  I do
not affirm it; but many others do.(815)

Thursday night, late.

Lady Di.  has told me an extraordinary fact.  Catherine Slay-Czar
sent for Mr. Fawkener(816) and desired he will order for her a
bust of Charles Fox; and she will place it between Demosthenes
and Cicero (pedantry she learnt from her French authors, and
which our schoolboys would be above using); for his eloquence has
saved two great nations from a war--by his opposition to it,
s'entend: so the peace is no doubt made.  She could not have
addressed her compliment worse than to Mr. Fawkener, sent by Mr.
Pitt, and therefore so addressed; and who of all men does not
love Mr. Fox, and Mr. Fox who has no vainglory, will not care a
straw for the flattery, and will understand it too.  Good night!

(812) The Honourable Septimus West, uncle of the present Earl of
Delawarr.  He died of consumption in October 1793.

(813) The great dinner at the Crown and Anchor tavern, in
celebration of the anniversary of the French revolution.-E.

(814) The flight of the Royal Family of France to, and return
from, Varennes.

(815) The marriage of the Duke of York with Frederica Charlotte
Ulrica Catherine, eldest daughter of the King of Prussia, was
solemnized, first in Prussia, on the 29th of September, and again
in England, on the 23d of November, 1791.  For Walpole's account
of her Royal Highness's visit to Strawberry Hill, see his letter
to the Miss Berrys of the 25th of September, 1793.-E.

(816.  Mr. Fawkener was the son of Sir Everard Fawkener, He was
one of the principal clerks of the privy council, and had been
sent on a secret mission to Russia.-E.



Letter 387 To Miss Berry.
Strawberry Hill, August 17, 1791. (page 514)

No letter from Florence this post, though I am wishing for one
every day! The illness of a friend is bad, but is augmented by
distance.  Your letters say you are quite recovered; but the
farther you are from me, the oftener I want to hear that recovery
repeated: and any delay in hearing revives my apprehensions of a
return of your fever.  I am embarrassed, too, about your plan.
It grows near to the time you Proposed beginning your journey.  I
do not write with any view to hastening that, which I trust will
entirely depend on the state of your health and strength; but I
am impatient to know your intentions: in short, I feel that, from
this time to your arrival, my letters will grow very tiresome.  I
have heard to-day, that Lord and Lady Sheffield, who went to
visit Mr. Gibbon at Lausanne, met with great trouble and
impertinence at almost every post in France.  in Switzerland
there is a furious spirit of democracy, or demonocracy.  They
made great rejoicings on the recapture of the King of France.
Oh! why did you leave England in such a turbulent era!  When will
you sit down on the quiet banks of the Thames?

Wednesday night.

Since I began my letter, I have received yours of the 2d, two
days later than Usual; and a most comfortable one it is.  My
belief and my faith are now of the same religion.  I do believe
you quite recovered.  You, in the mean time, are talking of my
rheumatism-quite an old story.  Not that it is gone, though the
pain is.  The lameness in my shoulder remains, and I am writing
on my lap: but the complaint is put upon the establishment; like
old servants, that are of no use, fill up the place of those that
could do something, and yet still remain in the house.

I know nothing new, public or private.  that is worth telling.
The stocks are transported with the pacification with Russia, and
do not care for what it has cost to bully the Empress to no
purpose; and say, we can afford it.  Nor can Paine and Priestley
persuade them that France is much happier than we are, by having
ruined itself.  The poor French here are in hourly expectation of
as rapid a counterrevolution as what happened two years ago.
Have you seen the King of Sweden's letter to his minister,
enjoining him to look dismal, and to take care not to be knocked
on the head for so doing?  It deserves to be framed with M. de
Bouill`e's bravado.(817) You say you will write me longer letters
when you know I am well.  Your recovery has quite the contrary
effect on me: I could scarce restrain my pen while I had
apprehensions about you; now you are well, the goosequill has not
a word to say.  One would think it had belonged to a physician.
I shall fill my vacuum with some lines that General Conway has
sent me, written by I know not whom, on Mrs. Harte, Sir William
Hamilton's pantomime mistress, or wife, who acts all the antique
statues in an Indian shawl.  I have not seen her yet, so am no
judge; but people are mad about her wonderful expression, which I
do not conceive; so few antique statues having any expression at
all, nor being designed to have it.  The Apollo has the symptoms
of dignified anger:(818) the Laocoon and his sons, and Niobe and
her family,(819) are all expression;' and a few more: but what do
the Venuses, Floras, Hercules, and a thousand others tell, but
the magic art of the sculptor, and their own graces and
proportions?

I have been making up some pills of patience, to be taken
occasionally, when you have begun your journey, and I do not
receive your letters regularly; which may happen when you are .on
the road.  I recommend you to St. James of Compost-antimony, to
whom St. Luke was an ignorant quack.  Adieu!

(817) "The Marquis de Bouill`e, in order to draw upon himself the
indignation of the Assembly, addressed to it a letter, which
might be called mad, but for the generous motive which dictated
it.  He avowed himself the sole author of the King's journey,
though, on the contrary, he had opposed it.  He declared, in the
name of the Sovereign, that Paris should be responsible for the
safety of the Royal Family, and that the slightest injury offered
to them should be signally avenged.  The Assembly winked at this
generous bravado, and threw the whole blame on Bouill`e; who had
nothing to fear, for he was already abroad." Thiers, vol. i. p.
197.-E.

(818) "In his eye
And nostril beautiful disdain, and might
And majesty, flash their full lightnings by,
Developing in that one glance the Deity." Byron.-E.

(819) "Go see
Laocoon's torture dignifying pain--
A father's love and mortal's agony
With an immortal's patience blending:--Vain
The struggle: vain against the coiling strain
And gripe, and deepening of the dragon's grasp,
The old man's clench, the long envenom'd chain
Rivets the living links,--the enormous asp
Enforces pang on pang, and stifles gasp on gasp." Ibid.-E.



Letter 388 To The Miss Berrys.
Berkeley Square, Tuesday, Aug. 23, 1791. (page 516)

I am come to town to meet Mr. Conway and Lady Ailesbury; and, as
I have no letter from you yet to answer, I will tell you how
agreeably I have passed the last three days; though they might
have been improved had you shared them, as I wished, and as I
sometimes do wish.  On Saturday evening I was at the Duke of
Queensberry's (at Richmond, s'entend) with a small company: and
there were Sir William Hamilton and Mrs. Harte; who, on the 3d of
next month, previous to their departure, is to be made Madame
l'Envoy`ee `a Naples, the Neapolitan Queen having promised to
receive her in that quality.  Here she cannot be presented, where
only such over-virtuous wives as the Duchess of Kingston and Mrs.
Hastings--who could go with a husband in each hand--are admitted.
Why the Margravine of Anspach, with the same pretensions, was
not, I do not understand; perhaps she did not attempt it.  But I
forgot to retract, and make amende honourable to Mrs. Harte.  I
had only heard of her attitudes; and those, in dumb show, I have
not yet seen.  Oh! but she sings admirably; has a very fine,
strong voice: is an excellent buffa, and an astonishing
tragedian.  She sung Nina in the highest perfection; and there
her attitudes were a whole theatre of grace and various
expressions.

The next evening I was again at Queensberry-house, where the
Comtesse Emilie de Boufflers played on her harp, and the
Princesse di Castelcigala, the Neapolitan minister's wife, danced
one of her country dances, with castanets, very prettily, with
her husband.  Madame du Barry was there too, and I had a good
deal of frank conversation with her about Monsieur de Choiseul;
having been at Paris at the end of his reign and the beginning of
hers, and of which I knew so much by my intimacy with the
Duchesse de Choiseul.

On Monday was the boat-race.  I was in the great room at the
Castle, with the Duke of Clarence, Lady Di., Lord Robert
Spencer,(820) and the House of Bouverie(821)  to see the boats
start from the bridge to Thistleworth, and back to a tent erected
on Lord Dysart's meadow, just before Lady Di.'s windows; whither
we went to see them arrive, and where we had breakfast.  For the
second heat, I sat in my coach on the bridge; and did not stay
for the third.  The day had been coined on purpose, with my
favourite southeast wind.  The scene, both up the river and down,
was what only Richmond upon earth can exhibit.  The crowds on
those green velvet meadows and on the shores, the yachts, barges,
pleasure and small boats, and the windows and gardens lined with
spectators, were so delightful, that when I came home from that
vivid show, I thought Strawberry looked as dull and solitary as a
hermitage.  At night there was a ball at the Castle, and
illuminations, with the Duke's cipher, etc.  in coloured lamps,
as were the houses of his Royal Highness's tradesmen.  I went
again in the evening to the French ladies on the Green, where
there was a bonfire; but, you may believe, not to the ball.

Well! but you, who have had a fever with f`etes, had rather hear
the history of the new soi-disante Margravine.  She has been in
England with her foolish Prince, and not only notified their
marriage to the Earl,(822) her brother, who did not receive it
propitiously, but his Highness informed his lordship by a letter,
that they have an usage , in his country of taking a wife with
the left hand; that he had' espoused his lordship's sister in
that manner; and intends, as soon as she shall be a widow,(823)
to marry her with his right hand also.  The Earl replied, that he
knew she was married to an English peer, a most respectable man,
and can know nothing of her marrying any other man; and so they
are gone to Lisbon.  Adieu!

(820) Brother to Lady Diana Beauclerc.

(821) The family of the Hon. Edward Bouverie, brother to the Earl
of Radnor.

(822) Of Berkeley.

(823) Lady Craven became a widow in the following month, and was
married to the Margrave of Anspach in October.  See ante, p. 387,
letter 305.



Letter 389 To The Miss Berrys.
Strawberry Hill, Sept. 11, 1791. (page 517)

Though I am delighted to know, that of thirteen doleful months
but two remain, yet how full of anxiety will they be! You set out
in still hot weather, and will taste very cold before you arrive!
Accidents, inns, roads, mountains, and the sea, are all in my
map!- but I hope no slopes to be run down, no f`etes for a new
Grand Duke.  I should dread your meeting armies, if I had much
faith in the counter-revolution said to be on the anvil.  The
French ladies in my vicinage (a, word of the late Lord Chatham's
coin) are all hen-a-hoop on the expectation of a grand alliance
formed for that purpose, and I believe think they shall be at
Paris before you are in England; but I trust one is more certain
than the other.  That folly and confusion increase in France
every hour, I have no doubt, and absurdity and contradictions as
rapidly.  Their constitution, which they had voted should be
immortal and unchangeable,-though they deny that any thing
antecedent to themselves ought to have been so,-they are now of
opinion must be revised at the commencement of next century; and
they are agitating a third constitution, before they have thought
of a second, or finished the first!  Bravo! In short, Louis Onze
could not have laid deeper foundations for despotism than these
levellers, who have rendered the name of liberty odious--the
surest way of destroying the dear essence!

I have no news for you, but a sudden match patched up for Lord
Blandford, with a little more art than was employed by the fair
Gunnilda.  It is with Lady Susan Stewart, Lord Galloway's
daughter, contrived by and at the house of her relation and Lord
Blandford's friend, Sir Henry Dashwood ; and it is to be so
instantly, that her grace, his mother, will scarce have time to
forbid the bans.(824)

We have got a codicil to summer, that is as delightful as, I
believe, the seasons in the Fortunate Islands.  It is pity it
lasts but till seven in the evening, and then one remains with a
black chimney for five hours.  I wish the sun was not so
fashionable as never to come into the country till autumn and the
shooting season; as if Niobe's children were not hatched and
fledged before the first of September.  Apropos, Sir William
Hamilton has actually married his Gallery of Statues, and they
are set out on their return to Naples.  I am sorry I did not see
her attitudes, which Lady Di. (a tolerable judge!) prefers to any
thing she ever saw: still I do not much care.  I have at this
moment a commercial treaty with Italy, and hope in two months to
be a greater gainer by the exchange; and I shall not be SO
generous as Sir William, and exhibit my wives in pantomime to the
public.  'Tis well I am to have the originals again; for that
wicked swindler, Miss Foldson, has not yet given up their
portraits.

The newspapers are obliged to live Upon the diary of the King's
motions at Weymouth.  Oh! I had forgot.  Lord Cornwallis has
taken Bangalore by storm, promises Seringapatam, and Tippoo Saib
has sued for peace.  Diamonds will be as plenty as potatoes, and
gold is as common as copper-money in Sweden.  I was told last
night, that a director of the Bank affirms, that two millions
five hundred thousand pounds, in specie, have already been
remitted or brought over hither from France since their
revolution.

(824) The marriage took place four days after the date of this
letter.-E.



Letter 390 To The Miss Berrys.
Strawberry Hill, Friday night late, Sept. 16, 1791. (page 519)

As I am constantly thinking of you two, I am as constantly
writing to you, when I have a vacant quarter of an hour.
Yesterday was red-lettered in the almanacks of Strawberry and
Cliveden, Supposing you to set out towards them, as you intended;
the sun shone all day, and the moon at night, and all nature, for
three miles round, looked gay.  Indeed, we have had nine or ten
days of such warmth and serenity, (here called heat,) as I scarce
remember when the year begins to have gray, or rather yellow
hairs.  All windows have been flung up again and fans ventilated;
and it is true that hay-carts have been transporting haycocks,
from a second crop, all the morning from Sir Francis Basset's
island opposite to my windows.  The setting sun and the long
autumnal shades enriched the landscape to a Claude Lorrain.
Guess whether I hoped to see such a scene next year: if I do not,
may you! at least, it will make you talk of me! The gorgeous
season' and poor partridges.  I hear, have emptied London
entirely, and yet Drury-lane is removed to the Opera-house.  Do
you know that Mrs. Jordan is acknowledged to be Mrs. Ford, and
Miss Brunton(825) Mrs. Merry, but neither quits the stage?  The
latter's captain, I think, might quit his poetic profession,
without any loss to the public.  My gazettes will have kept you
so much au courant, that you will be as ready for any
conversation at your return, as if you had only been at a
watering-place.  In short, -a votre intention, and to make my
letters as welcome as I can, I listen to and bring home a
thousand things, which otherwise I should not know I heard.

Lord Buchan is screwing out a little ephemeral fame from
instituting a jubilee for Thomson.(826)  I fear I shall not make
my court to Mr. Berry, by owning I would not give this last
week's fine weather for all the four Seasons in blank verse.
There is more nature in L'Allegro and Penseroso, than in all the
laboured imitations Of Milton.  What is there in Thomson of
original?

Berkeley Square, Monday night, 19th.

You have alarmed me exceedingly, by talking of returning through
France, against which I thought myself quite secure, or I should
not have pressed you to stir, yet.  I have been making all the
inquiries I could amongst the foreign ministers at Richmond, and
I cannot find any belief of' the march of armies towards France.
Nay, the Comte d'Artois is said to be gone to PetersbUrgh; and he
must bring back forces in a balloon, if he can be time enough to
interrupt your passage through Flanders.  One thing I must
premise, if, which I deprecate, You should set foot in France; I
beg you to burn, and not to bring a scrap of paper with you.
Mere travelling ladies as young as you, I know have been stopped
and rifled, and detained in France to have their papers examined;
and one was rudely treated, because the name of a French lady of
her acquaintance was mentioned in a private letter to her, though
in no political light.  Calais is one of the worst places you can
pass; for, as they suspect money being remitted through that town
to England, the search and delays there are extremely strict and
rigorous.  The pleasure of seeing you would be bought infinitely
too dear by your meeting with any disturbance; as my impatience
for your setting out is already severely punished by the fright
you have given me.  One charge I can wipe off; but it were the
least of my faults.  I never thought of your settling at Cliveden
in November, if your house in town is free.  All my wish was,
that you would come for a night to Strawberry, and that the next
day I might put you in possession of Cliveden.  I did not think
of engrossing you from all your friends, who must wish to embrace
you at your return.

Tuesday.

I am told that on the King's acceptance of the constitution,
there is a general amnesty published, and passports taken off.
If this is true, the passage through France, for mere foreigners
and strangers, may be easier and safer; but be assured, of all, I
would not embarrass your journey unnecessarily; but, for Heaven's
sake! be well informed.  I advise nothing: I dread every thing
where your safeties are in question, and I hope Mr. Berry is as
timorous as I am.  My very contradictions prove the anxiety of my
mind, or I should not torment those I love so much; but how not
love those who sacrifice so much for me, and who, I hope, forgive
all my unreasonable inconsistencies.  Adieu! adieu!

(825) An actress of considerable talent and personal attractions.
Her sister, also a popular actress, was married, in 1807, to the
Earl of Craven.-E.

(826) The jubilee took place on the 22d of September, at
Ednam-hill.  On crowning the first edition of "The Seasons" with
a wreath of bays, Lord Buchan delivered an eulogy on the poet,
containing the following singular passage:--"I think myself happy
to have this day the honour of endeavouring to do honour to the
memory of Thomson, which has been profanely touched by the rude
hand of Samuel Johnson: whose fame and reputation indicate the
decline of taste in a country that, after having produced an
Alfred, a Wallace, a Bacon, a Napier, a Newton, a Buchanan, a
Milton, a Hampden, a Fletcher, and a Thomson, can submit to be
bullied by an overbearing pedant."-E.



Letter 391 To The Miss Berrys.
Strawberry Hill, Sept. 25, 1791. (page 520)

How I love to see My numeros increase.(827)  I trust they will
not reach sixty! in short, I try every nostrum to make absence
seem shorter; and yet, with all my conjuration, I doubt the next
five or six weeks will, like the harvest-moon, appear of a
greater magnitude than all the moons of the year, its
predecessors.  I wish its successor, the hunter's moon, could
seem less in proportion; but, on the contrary! I hate travelling,
and roads. and inns myself: while you are on your way, I shall
fancy, like Don Quixote, that every inn is the castle of some
necromancer, and every windmill a giant; and these will be my
smallest terrors.

Whether this will meet or follow you, I know not.  Yours of the
5th of this month arrived yesterday, but could not direct me
beyond Basle.  I must, then, remain still 11 in ignorance whether
you will take the German or French route.  It is now, I think,
certain that there will no attempt against France be made this
year.  Still I trust that you will not decide till you are
assured that you may come through France without trouble or
molestation; and I still prefer Germany, though it will protract
your absence.

I am sorry you were disappointed of going to Valombroso.  Milton
has made every body wish to have seen it; which is my wish, for
though I was thirteen months at Florence (at twice ), I never did
see it.  In fact, I was so tired of seeing when I was abroad,
that I have several of these pieces of repentance on my
conscience, when they come into my head; and yet I saw too much
for the quantity left such a confusion in my head, that I do not
remember a quarter clearly.  Pictures, statues, and buildings
were always so much my passion, that, for the time, I surfeited
myself; especially as one is carried to see a vast deal that is
not worth seeing.  They who are industrious and correct, and wish
to forget nothing, should go to Greece, where there is nothing
left to be seen, but that ugly pigeon-house, the Temple of the
Winds, that fly-cage, Demosthenes's lanthorn, and one or two
fragments of a portico, or a piece of a column crushed into a mud
wall; and with such a morsel, and many quotations, a true classic
antiquary can compose a whole folio, and call it Ionian
Antiquities!(828)  Such gentry do better still when they journey
to Egypt to visit the pyramids, which are of a form which one
think nobody could conceive without seeing, though their form is
all that is to be seen; for it seems that even prints and
measures do not help one to an idea of magnitude: indeed, the
measures do not; for no two travellers have agreed on the
measures.  In that scientific country, too, you may guess that
such or such a vanished city stood within five or ten miles of
such a parcel of land; and when you have conjectured in vain, at
what some rude birds, or rounds or squares, on a piece of an old
stone may have signified, you may amuse your readers with an
account of the rise of the Nile, some feats of the-Mamelukes, and
finish your work with doleful tales of the robberies of the wild
Arabs.  One benefit does arise from travelling: it cures one of
liking what is worth seeing especially if what you have seen is
bigger than what you do see.  Thus, Mr. Gilpin, having visited
all the lakes, could find no beauty in Richmond-hill.  If he
would look through Mr. Herschell's telescope at the profusion of
worlds, perhaps he would find out that Mount Atlas is an
ant-hill; and that the sublime and beautiful may exist
separately.

(827) Mr. Walpole numbered all the letters written by him to the
Miss Berrys during their residence abroad.-E.

(828) The first volume of "Ionian Antiquities," in imperial folio
edited by R. Chandler, N. Revett, and W. Pais, was published in
1769; a second, edited by the Society of Dilettanti, appeared in
1797.-E.



Letter 392 To The Hon. H. S. Conway.
Strawberry Hill, Sept. 27, 1791. (page 522)

Your letter was most welcome, as yours always are; and I answer
it immediately, though our post comes in so late that this will
not go away till to-morrow.  Nay, I write, though I shall see you
on Sunday, and have not a tittle to tell you.  I lead so insipid
a life, that, though I am content with it, it can furnish me with
nothing but repetitions.  I scarce ever stir from home in a
morning; and most evenings go and play at loto with the French at
Richmond, where I am heartily tired of hearing of nothing but
their absurd countrymen, -absurd, both democrates and
aristocrates.  Calonne sends them gross lies, that raise their
hopes to the skies - and in two days they hear of nothing but
horrors and disappointments; and the poor souls! they are in
despair.  I can say nothing to comfort them, but what I firmly
believe, which is, total anarchy must come on rapidly.  Nobody
pays the taxes that are laid; and which, intended to produce
eighty millions a month, do not bring in six.  The new Assembly
will fall on the old,(829) probably plunder the richest, and
certainly disapprove of much they have done; for can eight
hundred new ignorants approve of what has been done by twelve
hundred almost as Ignorant, and who were far from half agreeing?
And then their immortal constitution (which, besides, is to be
mightily mended nine years hence) will die before it has cut any
of its teeth but its grinders.  The exiles are enraged at their
poor King for saving his own life by a forced acceptance:(830)
and yet I know no obligation he has to his noblesse, who all ran
away to save their own lives; not a gentleman, but the two poor
gendarmes at Versailles, having lost their lives in his defence.
I suppose La Fayette, Barnave,(831) the Lameths, etc.  will run
away too,(832) when the new tinkers and cobblers, of whom the
present elect are and will be composed, proceed on the levelling
system taught them by their predecessors, who., like other
levellers, have taken good care of themselves, Good Dr.
Priestley's friend, good Monsieur Condorcet, has got a place in
the treasury of one thousand pounds a year:-ex uno disce omnes!
And thus a set of rascals, who might, with temper and discretion,
have obtained a very wholesome Constitution, Witness Poland! have
committed infinite mischief, infinite cruelty, infinite
injustice, and left a shocking precedent against liberty, unless
the Poles are as much admired and imitated as the French ought to
be detested.  I do not believe the Emperor will stir yet; he, or
his ministers, must see that it is the interest of Germany to let
France destroy itself.  His interference yet might unite and
consolidate, at least check further confusion and though I rather
think that twenty thousand men might march from one end of France
to the other, as, though the officers often rallied, French
soldiers never were stout; yet, having no officers, no
discipline, no subordination, little resistance might be
expected.  Yet the enthusiasm that has been spread might turn
into courage.  Still it were better for Caesar to wait.  Quarrels
amongst themselves will dissipate enthusiasm; and, if they have
no foreign enemy, they will soon have spirit enough to turn their
swords against one another, and what enthusiasm remains will soon
be converted into the inveteracy of faction.  This is
speculation, not prophecy; I do not pretend to guess what will
happen: I do think I know what will not; I mean, the system of
experiments that they call a constitution cannot last.
Marvellous indeed would it be, if a set of military noble lads,
pedantic academicians, curates of villages, and country
advocates, could in two years, amidst the utmost confusion and
altercation amongst themselves, dictated to or thwarted by
obstinate clubs of various factions, have achieved what the
wisdom of all ages and all nations has never been able to
compose--a system of government that would set four-and-twenty
millions of people free, and contain them within any bounds!
This, too, without one great man amongst them.  If they had had,
as Mirabeau seemed to promise to be, but as we know that he was,
too, a consummate villain, there would soon have been an end of
their vision of liberty.  And so there will be still, unless,
after a civil war, they split into small kingdoms or
commonwealths.  A little nation may be free; for it can be upon
its guard.  Millions cannot be so; because, the greater number of
men that are one people, the more vices, the more abuses there
are, that will either require or furnish pretexts for restraints;
and if vices are the mother of laws, the execution of laws is the
father of power:-and of such parents one knows the progeny.

(829) The Constitutional Assembly closed its sittings on the 30th
of September; having, during the three years of its existence,
enacted thirteen hundred laws and decrees, relative to
legislation, or to the general administration of the state.  The
first sitting of the, Legislative Assembly took place on the
following day.-E.

(830) The King, on the 14th Of September, had accepted the new
constitution, and sworn to maintain it.-E.

(831) For expressing his opinion, that the new constitution
inclined too much to a democracy, Barnave, after fifteen months,
imprisonment at Grenoble was tried before the revolutionary
tribunal, condemned to death, and guillotined on the 29th of
November 1793.-E.

(832) The two Lameths, Charles and Alexander, fled the country,
The latter, having fallen into the hands of the Austrians with La
Fayette, shared his captivity, till December 1795.-E.



Letter 393 To Miss Hannah More.
Berkeley Square, Sept, 29, 1791. (page 523)

My dear madam,
I have been very sorry, but not at all angry, at not hearing from
you so long.  With all your friendly and benevolent heart, I know
by experience how little you love writing to your friends; and I
know why: you think you lose moments which you could employ in
doing more substantial good; and that your letters only pamper
our minds, but do not feed or clothe our bodies; if they did, you
would coin as much paper as the French do in assignats.  Do not
imagine now that you have committed a wicked thing by writing to
me at last: comfort yourself, that your conscience, not
temptation, forced you to write; and be assured, I am as grateful
as if you had written from choice, not from duty, as your
constant spiritual director.

I have been out of order the whole summer, but not very ill for
above a fortnight.  I caught a painful rheumatism by, going into
a very crowded church on a rainy day, where all the windows were
open, to hear our friend the Bishop of London preach a charity
sermon here at Twickenham.  My gout would not resign to a new
incumbent, but came too; and both together have so lamed my right
arm, though I am now using it, that I cannot yet extend it
entirely, nor lift it to the top of my head.  However, I am free
from pain; and as Providence, though it supplied us originally
with so many bounties, took care we might shift with succedaneums
on the loss of several of them, I am content with what remains of
my stock; and since all my fingers are not useless, and that I
have not six hairs left, I am not much grieved at not being able
to comb my head.  Nay, should not such a shadow as I have ever
been, be thankful, that at the eve of seventy-five I am not yet
passed away?

I am so little out of charity with the Bishop for having been the
innocent cause of the death of my shoulder, that I am heartily
concerned for him and her on Mrs. Porteus's accident.(833)  It
may have marbled her complexion, but I am persuaded has not
altered her lively, amiable, good-humoured countenance.  As I
know not where to direct to them, and as you cannot suppose it a
sin for a sheep to write to its pastor on a week-day, I wish you
would mark the interest I take in their accident and escape from
worse mischief.

I thank you most cordially for your inquiry after my wives.  I am
in the utmost perplexity Of mind about them; torn between hopes
and fears.  I believe them set out from Florence on their return
since yesterday se'nnight, and consequently feel all the joy and
impatience of expecting them in five or six weeks: but then,
besides fears of roads, bad inns, accidents, heats and colds, and
the sea to cross in November at last, all my satisfaction is
dashed by the uncertainty whether they Come through Germany or
France.  I have advised, begged, implored, that it may not be
through those Iroquois, Lestryons, Anthropophagi, the Franks; and
then, hearing passports were abolished, and the roads more
secure, I half Consented, as they wished it, and the road is much
shorter; and then I repented, and have contradicted myself again.
And now I know not which route they wilt take: nor shall enjoy
any comfort from the thoughts of their return, till they are
returned safe.

'Tis well I am doubly guaranteed, or who knows, as I am as old
almost as both her husbands together, but Mrs. B-- might have
cast a longing eye towards me? How I laughed at hearing of her
throwing a second muckender to a Methusalem! a red-faced veteran,
with a portly hillock of flesh.  I conclude all her grandfathers
are dead; or, as there is no prohibition in the table of
consanguinity against male ancestors, she would certainly have
stepped back towards the Deluge, and ransacked her pedigrees on
both sides for some kinsman of the patriarchs.  I could titter a
plusieurs reprises; but I am too old to be improper, and you are
too modest to be impropered to: and so I will drop the subject at
the herald's office.

I am happy at and honour Miss Burney's resolution in casting away
golden, or rather gilt chains: others, out of vanity, would have
worn them till they had eaten into the bone.  On that charming
young woman's chapter I agree with you perfectly; not a jot on
Deborah * * * * whom you admire: i have neither read her verses,
nor will.  As I have not your aspen conscience, I cannot forgive
the heart of a woman that is party per pale blood and tenderness,
that curses our clergy and feels for negroes.  Can I forget the
14th of July, when they all contributed their fagot to the fires
that her presbytyrants (as Lord Melcombe called them) tried to
light in every Smithfield in the island; and which, as Price and
Priestley applauded in France, it would be folly to suppose they
did not only wish, but meant to kindle here ?  Were they ignorant
of the atrocious barbarities, injustice, and violation of oaths
committed in France? Did Priestley not know that the clergy there
had no option but between starving and perjury? And what does he
think of the poor man executed at Birmingham, who declared at his
death, he had been provoked by the infamous handbill? I know not
who wrote it.  No, my good friend: Deborah may cant rhymes of
compassion, but she is a hypocrite; and you shall not make me
read her, nor, with all your sympathy and candour, can you esteem
her.  Your compassion for the poor blacks is genuine, sincere
from your soul, most amiable; hers, a measure of faction.  Her
party supported the abolition, and regretted the disappointment
as a blow to the good cause.  I know this.  Do not let your piety
lead you into the weakness of respecting the bad, only because
they hoist the flag of religion, while they carry a stiletto in
the flagstaff.  Did not they, previous to the 14th of July,
endeavour to corrupt the guards? What would have ensued, had they
succeeded, you must tremble to think!

You tell me nothing of your own health.  May I flatter myself it
is good? I wish 1 knew so authentically! and I wish I could guess
when I should see you, without your being staked to the fogs of
the Thames at Christmas; I cannot desire that.  Adieu, my very
valuable friend! I am, though unworthy, yours most cordially.

(833) An overturn in a carriage.



Letter 394 To Miss Berry.
Strawberry Hill, Oct. 9, 1791. (page 526)

It will be a year to-morrow since you set out: next morning came
the storm that gave me such a panic for you! In March happened
your fall, and the wound on your nose; and in July your fever.
For sweet Agnes I have happily had no separate alarm: yet I have
still a month of apprehension to come for both!  All this mass of
vexation and fears is to be compensated by the transport at your
return, and by the complete satisfaction on your installation at
Cliveden.  But could I believe, that when my clock had struck
seventy-four, I could pass a year in such agitation! It may he
taken for dotage; and I have for some time expected to be
superannuated: but, though I task myself severely, I do not find
my intellects impaired; though I may be a bad judge myself, You
may, perhaps, perceive it by my letters; and don't imagine I am
laying a snare for flattery.  No! I am only jealous about myself,
that you two may have created such an attachment, without owing
it to my weakness.  Nay, I have some colt's limbs left, which I
as little suspected as my anxieties.

I went with General Conway, on Wednesday morning, from Park-place
to visit one of my antediluvian passions,--not a Statira or
Roxana, but one pre-existent to myself,--one Windsor Castle; and
I was so delightful and so juvenile, that, without attending to
any thing but my eyes, I stood full two hours and a half, and
found that half my lameness consists in my indolence.  Two
Berrys, a Gothic chapel, and an historic castle, are anodynes to
a torpid mind.  I now fancy that old age was invented by the
lazy.  St. George's Chapel, that I always worshipped, though so
dark and black that I could see nothing distinctly, is now being
cleaned and decorated, a scene of' lightness and graces.  Mr.
Conway was so struck with its Gothic beauties and taste, that he
owned the Grecian style would not admit half the variety of its
imagination.  There is a new screen prefixed to the choir, so
airy and harmonious, that I concluded it Wyat's; but it is by a
Windsor architect, whose name I forget.  Jarvis's window, over
the altar, after West, is rather too sombre for the Resurrection,
though it accords with the tone of the choirs; but the Christ is
a poor figure, scrambling to heaven in a fright, as if in dread
of being again buried alive.  and not ascending calmly in secure
dignity: and there is a Judass below, T so gigantic, that he
seems more likely to burst by his bulk, than through guilt.  In
the midst of all this solemnity, in a small angle over the lower
stalls, is crammed a small bas-relief, in oak, with the story of
Margaret Nicholson, the King, and the Coachman, as ridiculously
added and as clumsily executed as if it were a monkish miracle.
Some loyal zealot has broken away the blade of the knife, as if
the sacred wooden personage would have been in danger still.  The
Castle itself is smugged up, is better glazed, has got some new
Stools, clocks, and looking-glasses, much embroidery in silk, and
a gaudy, clumsy throne, with a medallion at top of the King's and
Queen's heads, over their own--an odd kind of tautology, whenever
they sit there! There are several tawdry pictures, by West, of
the history of the Garter; but the figures are too small for that
majestic place.  However, upon the whole, I was glad to see
Windsor a little revived.

I had written thus far, waiting for a letter, and happily receive
Your two from Bologna together; for which I give you a million of
thanks, and for the repairs of your coach, which I trust will
contribute to your safety: but I will swallow my apprehensions,
for I doubt I have tormented you with them.  Yet do not wonder,
that after a year's absence, my affection, instead of waning, is
increased.  Can I help feeling the infinite obligation I have to
you both, for quitting Italy that you love, to humour
Methusalem?--a Methusalem that is neither king nor priest, to
reward and bless you; and whom you condescend to please, because
he wishes to see you once more; though he ought to have
sacrificed a momentary glimpse to your far more durable
satisfaction.  Instead of generosity, I have teased, and I fear,
wearied you, with lamentations and disquiets; and how can I make
you amends?  What pleasure, what benefit, can I procure for you
in return?  The most disinterested generosity, such as yours is,
gratifies noble minds; but how paltry am I to hope that the
reflections of your own minds will compensate for all the
amusements you give up to

"Make languor smile, and smooth the bed of death!"

I may boast of having no foolish weakness for your persons, as I
certainly have not; but

"The soul's dark cottage, batter'd and decay'd,
Lets in new selfishness through chinks that time has made."

And I have been as avaricious of hoarding a few moments of
agreeable society, as if I had coveted a few more trumpery
guineas in my strong-box!  and then I have the assurance to tell
you I am not superannuated! Oh! but I am!

The Bolognese school is my favourite, though I do not like
Guercino, whom I call the German Guido, he is so heavy and dark.
I do not, like your friend, venerate Constantinopolitan
paintings, which are scarce preferable to Indian.  The characters
of the Italian comedy were certainly adopted even from the
persons of its several districts and dialects.  Pantaloon is a
Venetian, even in his countenance; and I once saw a gentleman of
Bergamo, whose face was an exact Harlequin's mask.

I have scarce a penfull of news for you; the world is at Weymouth
or Newmarket.  En attendent, voici, the Gunnings again! The old
gouty General has carried off his tailor's wife; or rather, she
him, whither, I know not.  Probably, not far; for the next day
the General was arrested for three thousand pounds, and carried
to a spunginghouse, whence he sent cupid with a link to a friend,
to beg help and a crutch.  This amazing folly is generally
believed; perhaps because the folly of that race is amazing--so
is their whole story.  The two beautiful sisters Were going on
the stage, when they are at once exalted almost as high as they
could be, were countessed and double-duchessed; and now the rest
of the family have dragged themselves through all the kennels of
the newspapers! Adieu! forgive all my pouts.  I will be perfectly
good-humoured when I have nothing to vex me!



Letter 395 To John Pinkerton, Esq.(834)
Berkeley Square, Dec. 26, 1791. (page 528)

As I am sure of the sincerity of your congratulations,(835 I feel
much obliged by them, though what has happened destroys my
tranquillity; and, if what the world reckons advantages could
compensate the loss of peace and ease, would ill indemnify me,
even by them.  A small estate, loaded with debt, and of which I
do not understand the management, and am too old to learn; a
source of lawsuits among my near relations, though not affecting
me; endless conversations with lawyers, and packets of letters to
read every day and answer,--all this weight of new business is
too much for the rag of life that yet hangs about me, and was
preceded by three weeks of anxiety about my unfortunate nephew,
and daily correspondence with physicians and mad-doctors, falling
upon me when I had been out of order ever since July.  Such a
mass of troubles made me very seriously ill for some days, and
has left me and still keeps me so weak and dispirited, that, if I
shall not soon be able to get some repose, my poor head or body
will not be able to resist.  For the empty title, I trust you do
not suppose it is any thing but an incumbrance, by larding my
busy mornings with idle visits of interruption, and which, when I
am able to go out, I shall be forced to return.  Surely no man of
seventy-four, unless superannuated, can have the smallest
pleasure in sitting at home in his own room, as I almost always
do, and being called by a new name! It will seem personal, and
ungrateful too, to have said so much about my own triste
situation, and not to have yet thanked you, Sir.  for your kind
and flattering offer of letting me read what you have finished of
your history; but it was necessary to expose my position to you,
before I could venture to accept your proposal, when I am so
utterly incapable of giving a quarter of an hour at a time to
what I know, by my acquaintance with your works, will demand all
my attention, if I wish to reap the pleasure they are formed to
give me.  It is most true that for these seven weeks I have not
read seven pages, but letters, states of account, cases to be
laid before lawyers, accounts of farms, etc. etc., and those
subject to mortgages.  Thus are my mornings occupied: in an
evening my relations and a very few friends come to me; and, when
they are gone, I have about an hour to midnight to write answers
to letters for the next day's post, which I had not time to do in
the morning.  This is actually my case now.  I happened to be
quitted at ten o'clock, and would not lose the opportunity of
thanking you, not knowing when I could command another hour.

I by no means would be understood to decline your obliging offer,
Sir: on the contrary, I accept it joyfully, if you can trust me
with your manuscript for a little time, should I have leisure to
read it but by small snatches, which would be wronging you, and
would break all connexion in my head.  Criticism you are too
great a writer to want; and to read critically is far beyond my
present power.  Can a scrivener, or a scrivener's hearer, be a
judge of composition, style, profound reasoning, and new lights
and discoveries, etc.?  But my weary hand and breast must finish.
May I ask the favour of you calling on me any morning, when you
shall happen to come to town? You will find the new-old lord
exactly the same admirer of yours.

(834) Now first collected.

(835) Mr. Walpole had succeeded to the title of Earl of Orford on
the 5th of December, upon the death of his nephew George, the
third Earl.-E.



Letter 396 To Miss Hannah More.
Berkeley Square, Jan. 1, 1792. (PAGE 529)

My much-esteemed friend,
I have not so long delayed answering your letter from the pitiful
revenge of recollecting how long your pen is fetching breath
before it replies to mine.  Oh! no; you know I love to heap coals
of kindness on your head, and to draw you into little sins, that
you may forgive yourself, by knowing your time was employed on
big virtues.  On the contrary, you would be revenged; for here
have you, according to your notions, inveigled me into the
fracture of a commandment; for I am writing to you on a Sunday,
being the first moment of leisure that I have had since I
received your letter.  It does not indeed clash with my religious
ideas, as I hold paying one's debts as good a deed, as praying
and reading sermons for a whole day in every week, when it is
impossible to fix the attention to one course of thinking for so
many hours for fifty-two days in every year.  Thus you see I can
preach too.  But seriously, and indeed I am little disposed to
cheerfulness now, I am overwhelmed with troubles, and with
business--and business that I do not understand; law, and the
management of a ruined estate, are subjects ill-suited to a head
that never studied any thing that in worldly language is called
useful.  The tranquillity of my remnant of life will be lost, or
so perpetually interrupted, that I expect little comfort; not
that I am already intending to grow rich, but, the moment one is
supposed so, there are so many alert to turn one to their own
account, that I have more letters to Write, to satisfy, or rather
to dissatisfy them, than about my own affairs, though the latter
are all confusion.   I have such missives on agriculture,
pretensions to livings, offers of taking care of my game as I am
incapable of it, self-recommendations of making my robes, and
round hints of taking out my writ, that at least I may name a
proxy, and give my dormant conscience to somebody or other!  I
trust you think better of my heart and understanding than to
suppose that I have listened to any one of these new friends.
Yet, though I have negatived all, I have been forced to answer
some of them before you; and that will convince you how cruelly
ill I have passed my time lately, besides having been made ill
with vexation and fatigue.  But I am tolerably well again.

For the other empty metamorphosis that has happened to the
outward man, you do me justice in concluding that it can do
nothing but tease me; it is being called names in one's old age.
I had rather be my lord mayor, for then I should keep the
nickname but a year; and mine I may retain a little longer, not
that at seventy-five I reckon on becoming my Lord Methusalem.
Vainer, however, I believe I am already become; for I have wasted
almost two pages about myself, and said not a tittle about your
health, which I most cordially rejoice to hear you are
recovering, and as fervently hope you will entirely recover.  I
have the highest opinion of the element of water as a constant
beverage; having so deep a conviction of the goodness and wisdom
of Providence, that I am persuaded that when it indulged us in
such a luxurious variety of eatables, and gave us but one
drinkable, it intended that our sole liquid should be both
wholesome and corrective.  Your system I know is different; you
hold that mutton and water were the Only cock and hen that were
designed for our nourishment; but I am apt to doubt whether
draughts of water for six weeks are capable of restoring health,
though some are strongly impregnated with mineral and other
particles.  Yet you have staggered me: the Bath water by your
account is, like electricity, compounded of contradictory
qualities; the one attracts and repels; the other turns a
shilling yellow, and whitens your jaundice.  I shall hope to see
you (when is that to be?) without alloy.

I must finish, wishing you three hundred and thirteen days of
happiness for the new year that is arrived this morning: the
fifty-two that you hold in commendam, I have no doubt will be
rewarded as such good intentions deserve.  Adieu, my too good
friend! My direction shall talk superciliously to the
postman;(836) but do let me continue unchangeably your faithful
and sincere HORACE WALPOLE.(837)

(836) He means franking his letter by his newly-acquired title of
Earl of Orford.

(837) This is the last letter signed Horace Walpole.-E.



Letter 397 To Thomas Barrett, Esq.
Berkeley Square, May 14, 1792. (PAGE 530)

Dear Sir,
Though my poor fingers do not yet write easily, I cannot help
inquiring if Mabeuse(838) is arrived safely at Lee, and fits his
destined stall in the library.  My amendment is far slower, comme
de raison, than ever; and my weakness much greater.  Another fit,
I doubt, will confine me to my chair, if it does not do more; it
is not worth haggling about that.

Dr. Darwin has appeared, superior in some respects to the former
part.  The Triumph of Flora, beginning at the fifty-ninth line,
is most beautifully and enchantingly imagined; and the twelve
verses that by miracle describe and comprehend the creation of
the universe out of chaos, are in my opinion the most sublime
passage in any author, or in any of the few languages with which
I am acquainted.  There are a thousand other verses most
charming, or indeed are all so, crowded with most poetic imagery,
gorgeous epithets and style: and yet these four cantos do not
please me equally with the Loves of the Plants.  This seems to me
almost as much a rhapsody of unconnected parts; and is so deep,
that I cannot read six lines together, and know what they are
about, till I have studied them in the long notes, and then
perhaps do not comprehend them; but all this is my fault, not Dr.
Darwin's.  Is he to blame, that I am no natural philosopher, no
chemist, no metaphysician?  One misfortune will attend this
glorious work; it will be little read but by those who have no
taste for poetry and who will be weighing, and criticising his
positions, without feeling the imagination, harmony, and
expression of the versification.  Is not it extraordinary, dear
Sir, that two of our very best poets, Garth and Darwin, should
have been physicians? I believe they have left all the lawyers
wrangling at the turnpike of Parnassus.  Adieu, dear Sir! Yours
most cordially.

(838) A capital picture by that master, then lately purchased by
Mr.  Barrett.-E.



Letter 398 To Miss Hannah More.(839)
Strawberry Hill, Aug. 21, 1792. (PAGE 531)

My dear Saint Hannah,
I have frequently been going to write to you, but checked myself.
You are so good and so bad, that I feared I should interrupt some
act of benevolence on one side; and on the other that you would
not answer my letter in three months.  I am glad to find, as an
Irishman would say, that the way to make you answer is not to
speak first.  But, ah! i am a brute to upbraid any moment of your
silence, though I regretted it when I hear that your kind
intentions have been prevented by frequent cruel pain! and that
even your rigid abstemiousness does not remove your complaints.
Your heart is always aching for others, and your head for
yourself.  Yet the latter never hinders the activity of the
former.  What must your tenderness not feel now, when a whole
nation of monsters is burst forth? The second massacre of Paris
has exhibited horrors that even surpass the former.(840)  Even
the Queen's women were butchered in the Thuilleries, and the
tigers chopped of the heads from the dead bodies, and tossed them
into the flames of the palace.  The tortures of the poor King and
Queen, from the length of"their duration, surpass all example;
and the brutal insolence with which they were treated on the
10th, all invention.  They were dragged through the Place Vendome
to see the statue of Louis the Fourteenth in fragments, and told
it was to be the King's fate; and he, the most harmless of men,
was told he is a monster; and this, after three years of
sufferings.  King and Queen, and children were shut up in a room,
without nourishment, for twelve hours.  One who was a witness has
come over, and says he found the Queen sitting on the floor,
trembling like an aspen in every limb, and her sweet boy the
Dauphin asleep against her knee!  She has not one woman to attend
her that ever she saw, but a companion of her misery, the King's
sister, an heroic virgin saint, who, on the former irruption into
the palace, flew to and clung to her brother, and being mistaken
for the Queen, and the hellish fiends wishing to murder her, and
somebody aiming to undeceive them, she said, "Ah! ne les
d`etrompez pas!"(841)  Was not that sentence the sublime of
innocence?  But why do I wound your thrilling nerves with the
relation of such horrible scenes? Your blackmanity(842) must
allow some of its tears to these poor victims.  For my part, I
have an abhorrence of politics, if one can so term these
tragedies, which make one harbour sentiments one naturally
abhors; but can one refrain without difficulty from exclaiming
such wretches should be exterminated?  They have butchered
hecatombs of Swiss, even to porters in private houses, because
they often are, and always are called, Le Suisse.  Think on
fifteen hundred persons, probably more, butchered on the
10th,(843) in the space of eight hours.  Think on premiums voted
for the assassination of several princes, and do not think that
such execrable proceedings have been confined to Paris; no,
Avignon, Marseilles, etc.  are still smoking with blood! Scarce
the Alecto of the North, the legislatress and the usurper of
Poland, has occasioned the spilling of larger torrents!

I am almost sorry that your letter arrived at this crisis; I
cannot help venting a little of what haunts me.  But it is better
to thank Providence for the tranquillity and happiness we enjoy
in this country, in spite of the philosophizing serpents we have
in our bosom, the Paines, the Tookes, and the Woolstoncrofts.  I
am glad you have not read the tract of the last-mentioned writer.
I would not look at it, though assured it contains neither
metaphysics nor politics; but as she entered the lists on the
latter, and borrowed her title from the demon's book, which aimed
at spreading the wrongs of men, she is excommunicated from the
pale of my library.  We have had enough of new systems, and the
world a great deal too much, already.

Let us descend to private life.  Your friend Mrs. Boscawen, I
fear, is unhappy: she has lost most suddenly her son-in-law,
Admiral Leveson.  Mrs. Garrick I have scarcely seen this whole
summer.  She is a liberal Pomona to me--I will not say an Eve;
for though she reaches fruit to me, she will never let Me in, as
if I were a boy, and would rob her orchard.

As you interest yourself about a certain trumpery old person, I
with infinite gratitude will add a line on him.  He is very
tolerably well, weak enough certainly, yet willing to be
contented; he is satisfied with knowing that he is at his best.
Nobody grows stronger at seventy-five, nor recovers the use of
limbs half lost; nor-though neither deaf nor blind, nor in the
latter most material point at all impaired; nor, as far as he can
find on strictly watching himself, much damaged as to common uses
in his intellects--does the gentleman expect to avoid additional
decays, if his life shall be further protracted.  He has been too
fortunate not to be most thankful for the past, and most
submissive for what is to come, be it more or less.  He forgot to
say, that the warmth of his heart towards those he loves and
esteems has not suffered the least diminution, and consequently
he is as fervently as ever Saint Hannah's most sincere friend and
humble servant, ORFORD.

(839) Now first collected.

(840) From the 2d to the 6th of September, these internal
atrocities proceeded uninterrupted, protracted by the actors for
the sake of the daily pay of a Louis to each.  M. Thiers states,
that Billaud Varennes appeared publicly among the assassins, and
encouraged what were called the labourers.  "My friends," said
he, "by taking the lives of villains you have saved the country.
France owes you eternal gratitude, and the municipality offers
you twenty livres apiece, and you shall be paid immediately." All
the reports of the time differ in their estimate of the number of
the victims.  "That estimate," says M. Thiers, varies from six to
twelve thousand in the prisons of France." Vol. ii. p. 45.-E.

(841) This fact is confirmed by M. Thiers.  "During the irruption
of the populace into the Thuilleries, on the 20th of June, Madame
Elizabeth," he says, "followed the King from window to window, to
share his danger.  The people, when they saw her, took her for
the Queen.  Shouts of 'There's the Austrian!' were raised in an
alarming manner.  The national grenadiers, who had surrounded the
Princess, endeavoured to set the people right.  'Leave them,'
said that generous sister, 'leave them in their error, and save
the Queen!' Vol. i. p. 306.-E.

(842) An allusion to the lively interest Miss More was taking in
the abolition of the slave trade.-E.

(843) At the storming of the Thuilleries.  "The Marseillais,"
says M. Thiers, "made themselves masters of the palace: the
rabble, with pikes, poured in after them, and the rest of the
scene was soon but one general massacre; the unfortunate Swiss in
vain begged for quarter, at the Same time throwing down their
arms; they were butchered without mercy." Vol. i. P. 380.-E.



Letter 399 To The Hon. H. S. Conway.
Strawberry Hill, August 31, 1792. (PAGE 533)

Your long letter and my short one crossed one another upon the
road.  I knew I was in your debt; but I had nothing to say but
what you know better than I; for you read all the French papers,
and I read none, as they have long put me out of all patience:
and besides, I hear so much of their horrific proceedings, that
they quite disturb me, and have given me what I call the French
disease; that is, a barbarity that I abhor, for I cannot help
wishing destruction to thousands of human creatures whom I never
saw.  But when men have worked themselves up into tigers and
hyenas, and labour to communicate their appetite for blood, what
signifies whether they walk on two legs or four, or whether they
dwell in cities, or in forests and dens?  Nay, the latter are the
more harmless wild beasts; for they only cranch a poor traveller
now and then, and when they are famished with hunger: the others,
though they have dined, cut the throats of some hundreds of poor
Swiss for an afternoon's luncheon.  Oh! the execrable nation! I
cannot tell you any new particulars, for Mesdames de Cambis and
d'Hennin, my chief informers, are gone to Goodwood to the poor
Duchesse de Biron, of whose recovery I am impatient to hear; and
so I am of the cause of her very precipitate flight and panic.
She must, I think, have had strong motives; for two years ago I
feared she was much too courageous, and displayed her intrepidity
too publicly.  If I did not always condemn the calling bad people
mad people, I should say all Paris had gone distracted: they
furnish provocation to every species of retaliation, by
publishing rewards for assassination of Kings and generals, and
cannot rest without incensing all Europe against them.

The Duchess of York gave a great entertainment at Oatlands on her
Duke's birthday; sent to his tradesmen in town to come to it, and
allowed two guineas apiece to each for their carriage; gave them
a dance, and opened the ball herself with the Prince of Wales.  A
company of strollers came to Weybridge to act in a barn: she was
solicited to go to it, and did out of charity, and carried all
her servants.  Next day a Methodist teacher came to preach a
charity sermon in the same theatre, and she Consented to hear it
on the same motive; but her servants desired to be excused, on
not understanding English.  "Oh!" said the Duchess, "but you went
to the comedy, which you understood less, and you shall go to the
sermon;" to which she gave handsomely, and for them.  I like
this.

Tack this to my other fragment, and then, I trust, I shall not be
a defaulter in correspondence.  I own I am become an indolent
poor creature: but is that strange? With seventy-five years over
my head, or on the point of being so; with a chalk-stone in every
finger; with feet so limping, that I have been but twice this
whole summer round my own small garden, and so much weaker than I
was, can I be very comfortable, but when sitting quiet and doing
nothing? All my strength consists in my sleep, which is as
vigorous as at twenty: but with regard to letter-writing, I have
so many to write on business which I do not understand, since the
unfortunate death of my nephew, that, though I make them as brief
as possible, half-a-dozen short ones tire me as much as a long
One to an old friend; and as the busy ones must be executed, I
trespass on the others, and remit them to another day.  Norfolk
has come very mal-apropos into the end of my life, and certainly
never entered into my views and plans; and I, who could never
learn the multiplication table, was not intended to transact
leases..  direct repairs of farm-houses, settle fines for church
lands, negotiate for lowering interest on mortgages, etc.  In
short, as I was told formerly, though I know several things, I
never understood any thing useful.  Apropos, the letter of which
Lady Cecilia Johnstone told you is not at all worth your seeing.
It was an angry one to a parson who oppresses my tenants, and
will go to law with them about tythes.  She came in as I was
writing it; and as I took up the character of parson myself, and
preached to him as pastor of a flock which it did not become him
to lead into the paths of law, instead of those of peace, I
thought it would divert and showed it to her.  Adieu! I have been
writing to you till midnight, and my poor fingers ache.  Yours
ever.



Letter 400 To Miss Hannah More.
Berkeley Square, Feb. 9, 1793. (PAGE 535)

My holy Hannah, WITH your innate and usual goodness and sense,
you have done me justice by guessing exactly at the cause of my
long silence.  You have been apt to tell me that my letters
diverted you.  How then could I write, when it was impossible but
to attrist you! when I could speak of nothing but unparalleled
horrors! and but awaken your sensibility, if it slumbered for a
moment! What mind could forget the 10th of August and the 2d of
September; and that the black and bloody year 1792 has plunged
its murderous dagger still deeper, and already made 1793 still
more detestably memorable!  though its victim(844) has at last
been rewarded for four years of torture by forcing from him every
kind of proof of the most perfect character that ever sat on a
throne.  Were these, alas! themes for letters?  Nay, am I not
sure that you have been still more shocked by a crime that passes
even the guilt of shedding the blood of poor Louis, to hear of
atheism avowed, and the avowal tolerated by monsters calling
themselves a National Assembly! But I have no words that can
reach the criminality of such inferno-human beings, but must
compose a term that aims at conveying my idea of them.
For the future it will be sufficient to call them the French; I
hope no other nation will ever deserve to be confounded with
them!

Indeed, my dear friend, I have another reason for wishing to burn
my pen entirely: all my ideas are confounded and overturned; I do
not know whether all I ever learned in the seventy first years of
my seventy-five was not wrong and false: common sense, reasoning,
calculation, conjecture from analogy and from history of past
events, all, all have been baffled; nor am I sure that what used
to be thought the result of experience and wisdom was not a mass
of mistakes.  Have I not found, do I not find, that the invention
of establishing metals as the signs of property was an useless
discovery, or at least only useful till the art of making paper
was found out?  Nay, the latter is preferable to gold and silver.
            If the ores were adulterated and cried down, nobody
would take them in exchange.  Depreciate paper as much as you
will, and it will still serve all the purposes of barter.
Tradesmen still keep shops, stock them with goods, and deliver
their commodities for those coined rags.  Poor Reason, where art
thou?

To show you that memory and argument are Of no value, at least
with me, I thought a year or two that this papermint would soon
blow UP, because I remembered that when Mr. Charles Fox and one
or two more youths of brilliant genius first came to light, and
into vast debts at play, they imparted to the world an important
secret which they had discovered.  It was, that nobody needed to
want money, if they would pay enough for it.  Accordingly, they
borrowed of Jews at vast usury: but as they had made but an
incomplete calculation, the interest so soon exceeded the
principal, that the system did not maintain its ground for above
two or three years.  Faro has proved a more substantial
speculation.  But I miscarried in applying my   remembrance to
the assignats, which still maintain their ground against that
long-decried but as long-adored corrupter of virtue, gold.(845)
Alack! I do not hear that virtue has flourished more for the
destruction of its old enemy!

Shall I add another truth?             I have been so disgusted
and fatigued by hearing of nothing but French massacres, etc.
and found it so impossible to shift conversation to any other
topic, that before I had been a month in town, I wished Miss
Gunning would revive, that people might have at least one other
subject to interest the ears and tongues of the public.  But no
wonder universal attention is engrossed by the present portentous
scene!                It seems to draw to a question, whether
Europe or France is to be depopulated; whether civilization can
be recovered, or the republic of Chaos can be supported by
assassination.  We have heard of the golden, silver, and iron
ages; the brazen one existed while the French were only
predominantly insolent.    What the present age will be
denominated, I cannot guess'.  Though the paper age would be
characteristic, it is not emphatic enough, nor specifies the
enormous sins of the fiends that are the agents.  I think it may
be styled the diabolical age -.  the Duke of Orleans has
dethroned Satan, who since his fall has never instigated such
crimes as Orleans has perpetrated.(846)

Let me soften my tone a little, and harmonize your poor mind by
sweeter accents.  In this deluge of triumphant enormities, what
trails of the sublime and beautiful         may be gleaned!  Did
you hear of Madame Elizabeth, the King's sister? a saint like
yourself.  She doted on her brother, for she certainly knew his
soul.  In the tumult in July, hearing the populace and the
poissardes had broken into the palace, she flew to the King, and
by embracing him tried to shield his person.  The populace took
her for the Queen, cried out "Voil`a cette chienne, cette
Autrichienne!"  and were proceeding to violence.  Somebody to
save her, screamed "Ce n'est pas la Reine, c'est--"
              The Princess said, "Ah! mon Dieu! ne les d`etrompez
pas." If that was not the most sublime instance of perfect
innocence ready prepared for death, I know not where to find one.
Sublime indeed, too, was the sentence of good Father Edgeworth,
the King's confessor, who, thinking his royal penitent a little
dismayed just before the fatal stroke, cried out "Montez, digne
fils de St. Louis! Le ciel vous est ouvert." The holy martyr's
countenance brightened up, and he submitted at once.      Such
victims, such confessors as those, and Monsieur do Malesherbes,
repair some of the breaches in human nature made by Orleans,
Condorcet, Santerre, and a legion of evil spirits.

The tide of horrors has hurried me much too far, before I have
vented a note of my most sincere concern for your bad account of
your health.  I feel for it heartily, and wish your frame were as
sound as your soul and understanding.  What can I recommend? I am
no physician but for my own flimsy texture; which by studying,
and by contradicting  all advice, I have drawn to this great age.
Patience, temperance, nay, abstinence, are already yours; in
short, you want to be corrected of nothing but too much piety,
too much rigour towards yourself, and too much sensibility for
others.  Is not it possible to serve mankind without feeling too
great pity?                    Perhaps I am a little too much
hardened, I am grown too little alarmed for the health of my
friends, from being become far more indifferent to life; I look
to the nearness of' my end, as a delivery from spectacles of wo.
We have even amongst us monsters, more criminal, in speculation
at least, than the French.  They had cause to wish for correction
of a bad government; though, till taught to dislike it,
three-fourths of the country, I maintain, adored theirs.  We have
the perfectest ever yet devised; but if to your numerous readings
of little pamphlets.  you would add one more, called "Village
Politics,"(847) infinitely superior to any thing on the subject,
clearer, better stated, and comprehending the whole mass of
matter in the shortest compass, you will be more mistress of the
subject than any man in England.  I know Who wrote it, but will
not tell you, because you did not tell me.

(844) On the 21st of January, Louis the Sixteenth had been
beheaded in the Place Louis Quinze, erected to the memory of his
grandfather.  M. Thiers thus concludes his account of this
horrible event:--"At ten minutes past ten, the carriage stopped.
Louis rising briskly, stepped out into the Place.  Three
executioners came up; he refused their assistance, and stripped
off his clothes himself; but, perceiving that they were going to
bind his hands, he betrayed a movement of indignation, and seemed
ready to resist.  M. Edgeworth, whose every expression was then
sublime, gave him, a last look, and said, 'I Suffer this outrage,
as a last resemblance to that God who is about to be your
reward.'  At these words the victim, resigned and submissive,
suffered himself to be bound and conducted to the scaffold.  All
at once, Louis took a hasty step, separated himself from the
executioners, and advanced to address the people.  'Frenchmen,'
said he, in a firm voice,  'I die innocent of the crimes which
are imputed to me; I forgive the authors of my death, and I pray
that my blood may not fall upon France.' He would have continued
but the drums were instantly ordered to beat: their rolling
drowned the voice of the Prince, the executioners laid hold of
him, and M. Edgeworth took his leave in these memorable words,
''Son of St. Louis, ascend to heaven!' As soon as the blood
flowed, furious wretches dipped their pikes and their
handkerchiefs in it spread themselves throughout Paris, shouted
Vive la Republique! vive la nation! and even went to the gates of
the Temple to display their brutal and factious joy." Vol. ii. p.
228.-E.

(845) "The causes which at this time put assignats apparently on
a par with specie were the following.  A law forbade, under heavy
penalties, the traffic in specie, that is, the exchange at a loss
of the assignat against money: another law decreed very severe
penalties against those who, in purchases, should bargain for
different prices according as payment was to be made in paper or
in cash: by a last law, it was enacted, that hidden gold, silver,
or jewels, should belong partly to the state, partly to the
informer.  Thenceforth people could neither employ specie in
trade nor conceal it; it became troublesome; it exposed the
holders to the risk of being considered suspected persons; they
began to be afraid of it, an(l to find the assignat preferable
for daily use." Thiers, vol. iii. p. 213.-E.

(846) Louis-Philippe-Joseph, Duke of Orleans, who had
relinquished his titles and called himself Philippe Egalit`e, and
become a member of the National Convention, in giving his vote
for the death of his kinsman, had read these words:--"Exclusively
governed by my duty, and convinced that all those who have
resisted the sovereignty of the people deserve death, my vote is
for death!"  The atrocity of this vote occasioned great agitation
in the -assembly; it seemed as if, by this single vote, the fate
of the Monarch was irrevocably sealed.  On the 6th of November,
in the same year, the Duke was himself brought before the
revolutionary tribunal, and condemned on account of the
suspicions which he had excited in all parties.  "Odious," says
M. Thiers "to the emigrants, Suspected by the Girondins and the
Jacobins, he inspired none of those regrets which afford some
consolation for an unjust death.  A universal disgust, an
absolute scepticism were his last sentiments; and he went to the
scaffold with extraordinary composure and indifference, As he was
drawn along the Rue St. Honor`e, he beheld his palace with a dry
eye, and never belied for a moment his disgust of men and of
life," Vol. iii, P. 205--E.

(847) A little work which Miss More had Just published
anonymously.  The sale of it was enormous.  Many thousands were
sent by government to Scotland and Ireland.  Several persons
printed large editions Of it at their own expense; and in London
Only many hundred thousands were circulated.-E.



Letter 401 To Miss Hannah More.
Berkeley Square, March 23, 1793.(page 538)

I shall certainly not leave off taunting your virtues, my
excellent friend, for I find it sometimes makes you correct them.
I scolded you for your modesty in not acquainting me with your
"Village Politics" even after they were published; and you have
already conquered that unfriendly delicacy, and announced another
piece of which you are in labour.  Still I se there wanted your
ghostly father, the )Bishop of London, to join you to be quite
shameless and avow your natural child.(848)  I do approve his
doctrine: calling it by your own name will make its fortune.  If,
like Rousseau, you had left your babe among the enfans trouv`es,
it might never be heard of more than his poor issue have been;
for I can but observe that the French patriots, who have made
such a fuss with his ashes, have not taken the smallest pains to
attempt to discover his real progeny, which might not have been
impossible by collating dates and circumstances.  I am proud of
having imitated you at a great distance, and been persuaded, much
against my will and practice, to let my name be put to the second
subscription for the poor French clergy, as it was thought it
might tend to animate that consumptive contribution.

I am impatient for your pamphlet, not only as being yours, but
hoping it will invigorate horror against French atheism, which, I
am grieved to say did not by any means make due impression.  very
early apply to your confessor, to beg he would enjoin his clergy
to denounce that shocking impiety; I could almost recommend to
you to add a slight postscript on the massacre of that wretch
Manuel.  I do not love such insects as we are dispensing
judgments yet, if the punishment of that just victim might
startle such profane criminals, it might be charity to suggest
the hint to them.

24th.

I must modify the massacre of Manuel; he has been a good deal
stabbed, but will, they say, recover.(849) Perhaps it is better
that some of those assassins should live to acknowledge, that "Do
not to others what you would not have done to you" is not so
silly a maxim as most of the precepts of morality and Justice
have lately been deemed by philosophers and legislators--titles
self-assumed by men who have abolished all other titles; and who
have disgraced and debased the former denomination, and under the
latter have enjoined triple perjuries, and at last cannot fix on
any code which should exact more forswearing.  I own I am pleased
that that ruffian pedant Condorcet's new constitution was too
clumsy and unwieldy to go down the throats of those who have
swallowed every thing else.  I did but just cast my eyes on the
beginning and end, and was so lucky as to observe the hypocrite's
contradiction: he sets out with declaration of equality, and
winds up with security of property; that is, we will plunder
every body, and then entail the spoils on ourselves and our
(wrong) heirs.(850)

Well! that bloody chaos seems recoiling on themselves!  It looks
as if civil war was bursting out in many provinces, and will
precipitate approaching famine.  When, till now, could one make
such a reflection without horror to one's self?  But, alas! have
not the French brought it to the question, whether Europe or
France should be laid desolate'! Religion, morality, justice,
have been stabbed, torn up by the roots: every right has been
trampled under foot.  Marriage has been profaned and undermined
by law; and no wonder, that, amidst such excesses, the poor arts
have shared in the common ruin! And who have been the
perpetrators of, or advocates for, such universal devastation?
Philosophers, geometricians, astronomers--a Condorcet, a Bailly,
a Bishop of Autun, and a Doctor Priestley, and the last the
worst.  The French had seen grievances, crying grievances!  yet
not under the good late King.  But what calamities or dangers
threatened or had fallen on Priestley, but want of papal power,
like his predecessor Calvin? If you say his house was burnt -but
did he intend the fire should blaze on that side of the street?
Your charity may believe him innocent, but your understanding
does not.  Well!  I am glad to hear he is going to America; I
hope he will not bring back scalping, even to that National
Assembly of which he was proud of being elected a member! I doubt
if Cartouche would have thought it an honour.  It was stuck up in
Lloyd's coffeehouse lately, that the Duke of Orleans was named
"Chef de la R`epublique." I thought it should be "Chef de la Lie
publique."

(848) Miss More had informed Walpole, that she was occupied in
writing her "Remarks" on the atheistical speech of M. Dupont,
made in the National Convention; and to which the Bishop of
London had recommended her to put her name.-E.

(849) Manuel was deeply implicated in the massacres of 1792; in
consequence of which he was nominated a deputy to the National
Convention.  He resigned his seat in January 1793, and retired to
Montargis, where he narrowly escaped assassination.  He was
afterwards seized as a suspected person.  On being brought before
the revolutionary tribunal, he reminded his judges of his
services, and desired it might be engraved on his tombstone, that
he had occasioned the events of the 10th of August.  He was
guillotined in November 1793.-E.

(850) In the following July, Condorcet was accused of being an
accomplice with Brissot, and, to save his life, concealed himself
in the house of Madame Verney, where he remained eight months.
Having at length learned that death was denounced against all who
harboured a proscribed individual, he fled in disguise from
Paris.  He wandered about for some time, until, driven by hunger,
he entered a small public-house at Clamar, where he was arrested
as a suspicious person, and thrown into prison.  On the following
morning, March 28, 1794, he was found dead on the floor of his
room, having apparently swallowed poison, which he always carried
about with him.-E.



Letter 402 To The Hon. H. S. Conway.
Strawberry Hill, June 13, 1793. (page 540)

I thank you much for all your information--some parts made me
smile: yet, if what you heard of your brother proves true, I
rather think it deplorable!  How can love of money, or the still
vainer of all vanities, ambition of wearing a high but most
insignificant office, which even poor Lord Salisbury could
execute, tempt a very old man, who loves his ease and his own
way, to stoop to wait like a footman behind a chair, for hours,
and in a court whence he had been cast Ignominiously?  I believe
I have more pride than most men alive: I could be flattered by
honours acquired by merit, or by some singular action of `eclat;
but for titles, ribands, offices of no business, which any body
can fill, and must be given to many, I should just as soon be
proud of being the top squire in a country village.(851) It is
only worse to have waded to distinction through dirt, like Lord
Auckland.(852)  All this shifting of scenes may, as you say, be
food to the Fronde --Sed defendit numerus.  It is perfectly
ridiculous to use any distinction of parties but the ins and the
outs.  Many years ago I thought that the wisest appellations for
contending factions ever assumed, were those in the Roman empire,
who called themselves the greens and the blues: it was so easy,
when they changed sides, to slide from one colour to the other;
and then a blue might plead that he had never been true blue, but
always a greenish blue; and vice versa.  I allow that the
steadiest party-man may be staggered by novel and unforeseen
circumstances.  The outrageous proceedings of the French
republicans have wounded the cause of liberty, and will, I fear,
have shaken it for centuries; for Condorcet and such fiends are
worse than the imperial and royal dividers of Poland.  But I do
not see why detestation of anarchy and assassination must
immediately make one fall in love with garters and seals.

I am sitting by the fire, as I have done ever since I came
hither; and since I do not expect warm weather in June, I am
wishing for rain, or I shall not have a mouthful of hay, nor a
noseful of roses.  Indeed, as I have seen several fields of hay
cut, I wonder it has not brought rain, as usual.  My creed is,
that rain is good for hay, as I conclude every climate and its
productions are suited to each other.  Providence did not trouble
itself about its being more expensive to us to make our hay over
and over; it only took care it should not want water enough.
Adieu!

(851) On the 29th of this month, the Earl of Hertford was created
a Marquis.  He died on the 14th of June, in the following year,
at the age of seventy-five.-E.

(852) On the 23d of May, William Eden, Lord Auckland, had been
created an English peer.-E.



Letter 403 To The Hon. H. S. Conway.
Strawberry Hill, Wednesday night, late, July 17, 1793. (page 541)

I am just come from dining with the Bishop of London at Fulham,
where I found Lord and Lady Frederick Campbell, who told me of
the alarm you had from hearing some screams that you thought Lady
Ailesbury's, and the disorder brought upon you by flying to
assist her.  I do not at all wonder at your panic, and rejoice it
was not founded, and that you recovered so soon.  I am not going
to preach against your acting so naturally: but as you have some
complaint on your breast, I must hope you will remember this
accident, and be upon Your guard against both sudden and rapid
exertions, when you have not a tantamount call.  I conclude the
excessive heat we have had for twelve complete days contributed
to overpower you.

It is much cooler to-day, yet still delicious; for be it known to
you that I have enjoyed weather worthy of Africa,(853) and yet
without swallowing mouthfuls of musquitos, nor expecting to hear
hyenas howl in the village, nor to find scorpions in my bed.
Indeed, all the way I came home, I could but gaze at the felicity
of my countrymen.  The road was one string of stage-coaches
loaded within and without with noisy jolly folks, and chaises and
gigs that had been pleasuring in clouds of dust; every door and
every window of every house was open, lights in every shop, every
door with women sitting in the street, every inn crowded with
jaded horses, and every alehouse full of drunken topers; for you
know the English always announce their sense of heat or cold by
drinking.  Well! it was' impossible not to enjoy such a scene of
happiness and affluence in every village, and amongst the lowest
of the people; and who are told by villanous scribblers, that
they are oppressed and miserable.  New streets, new towns, are
rising every day and every where; the earth is covered with
gardens and crops of grain.

How bitter to turn from this Elysiurn to the temple at Paris! The
fiends there have now torn her son from the Queen!(854) Can one
believe that they are human beings, who 'midst all their
confusions sit coolly meditating new tortures, new anguish for
that poor, helpless, miserable woman, after four years of
unexampled sufferings?  Oh! if such crimes are not made a
dreadful lesson, this world might become a theatre of cannibals!

I hope the checks in Bretagne are legends coined by miscreants at
Paris.  What can one believe? Well, I will go to bed, and try to
dream of peace and plenty; and though my lawn is burnt, and my
peas and beans, and roses and strawberries parched, I will bear 4
with patience till the harvest is got in.  Saint Swithin can
never hold his water for forty days, though he can do the
contrary.  Good night!

(853) Bishop Porteus, writing to Miss More on the 12th of August
says, "Your friend Lord Orford and myself are, I believe, the
only persons in the kingdom who are worthy of the hot weather--
the only true genuine summer we have had for the last thirty
years: we both agreed that it was perfectly celestial, and that
it was quite scandalous to huff it away as some people did.  A
few days before it arrived, all the world was complaining of the
dreadfully cold northeast wind; and in three days after the
warmer weather came in every body was quarrelling with the heat,
and sinking under the rays of the sun.  Such is that consistent
and contented thing called human nature!"-E.

(854) Marie Antoinette was separated from her sister, her
daughter, and her son, by virtue of a decree which ordered the
trial.  Weber, in his memoirs of her, states, that the separation
from her son was so touching, so heartrending that the very
gaolers who witnessed the scene confessed, when they were giving
an account of' it to the authorities, that they could not refrain
from tears.-E.



Letter 404 To The Miss Berrys.(855)
Tuesday night, 8 o'clock, Sept. 17, 1793. (page 542)

My beloved spouses,
whom I love better than Solomon loved his one spouse--or his one
thousand.  I lament that the summer is over; not because of its
uniquity, but because you two made it so delightful to me, that
six weeks of gout could not sour it.  Pray take care of
yourselves-not for your own sakes, but for mine: for, as I have
just had my quota of gout, I may, possibly, expect to see another
summer: and, as you allow that I do know my own, and when I wish
for any thing and have it, am entirely satisfied, you may depend
upon it that I shall be as happy with a third summer, if I reach
it, as I have been with the two last.

Consider, that I have been threescore years and ten looking for a
society that I perfectly like; and at last there dropped out of
the clouds into Lady Herries's room two young gentlewomen, who I
so little thought were sent thither on purpose for me, that When
I was told they were the charming Miss Berrys, I would not even
go to the side of the chamber where they sat.  But, as Fortune
never throws any thing at one's head without hitting one, I soon
found that the charming Berrys were precisely ce qu'il me
fallait; and that though young enough to be my
great-grand-daughters, lovely enough to turn the heads of all our
youths, and sensible enough, if said youths have any brains, to
set all their heads to rights again.  Yes, sweet damsels, I have
found that you can bear to pass half your time with an
antediluvian, without discovering any ennui or disgust; though
his greatest merit towards you is, that he is not one of those
old fools who fancy they are in love in their dotage.  I have no
such vagary; though I am not sorry that some folks think I am so
absurd, since it frets their selfishness.  The Mackinsys,
Onslows, Miss Pelham, and Madame de Cambis have dined here; and
to-morrow I shall have the flamptonians and other Richmondists.
I must repeat it; keep in mind that both of you are delicate, and
not strong.  If you return in better health, I shall not repine
at your journey.  Good night!

(855) The Miss Berrys were at this time in Yorkshire.



Letter 405 To The Miss Berrys.
Strawberry Hill, Wednesday, 3 o'clock, Sept. 25, 1793. (page 543)

Every thing has gone au mieux.  The rain vented itself to the
last drop yesterday; and the sun, as bright as the Belvedere, has
not had a wrinkle on his brow since eight o'clock this morning;
nay, he has been warm, and gilded the gallery and tribune with
sterling rays; the Thames quite full with the last deluges, and
the verdure never fresher it was born.   The Duchess of York
arrived punctually at twelve, in a high phaeton, with Mrs. Ewert,
and Bude on horseback.   On the step of the gate was a carpet,
and the court matted.   I received the Princess at the side of
her chaise, and when entered, kissed her hand.   She had meant to
ride; but had hurt her foot, and was forced to sit most of the
time she was here.   We had many civil contests about my sitting
too: but I resisted, and held out till after she had seen the
house and drank chocolate in the round drawing-room; and then she
commanded General Bude to sit, that I might have no excuse: yet I
rose and fetched a salver, to give her the chocolate myself, and
then a glass of water.   She seemed much pleased, and commended
much; and I can do no less of her, and with the strictest truth.
She is not near so small as I had expected; her face is very
agreeable and lively; and she is so good-humoured, and so
gracious, and so natural, that I do not believe Lady Mary
Coke(856) would have made a quarter so pleasing a Duchess of
York; nor have been in half so sweet a temper, unless by my
attentions de vieille cour.    I was sorry my Eagle(857) had been
forced to hold its tongue To-morrow I shall go to Oatlands, with
my thanks for the honour; and there, probably, will end my
connexions with courts, begun with George the First,
great-great-great-grandfather to the Duchess of' York!   It
sounds as if there could not   have been above three generations
more before Adam.

Great news       How eager Mr. Berry will look!-but it is not
from armies or navies; not from the murderers at Paris, nor from
the victims at Grodno.   No! it is only an event in the little
world of me.   This morning, to receive my Princess, I put on a
silver waistcoat that I had made three years ago for Lord
Cholmondeley's marriage, and have not worn since.   Considering,
my late illness, and how many hundredweight of chalk I have been
Venting these ten years, I concluded my wedding garment would
wrap round me like my nightgown; but, lo! it was grown too tight
for me.   I shall be less surprised, if, in My next century, and
under George the Tenth, I grow as plump as Mrs. Ellis.

Methinks I pity you, when all the world is in arms, and you
expect to hear that Saul Duke of Brunswick has slain his
thousands, and David Prince of Cobourg his ten thousands, to be
forced to read the platitudes that I send you, because I have
nothing better to amuse me than writing to you.   Well! you know
how to get rid of my letters.   Good night.   I reckon you are at
Brumpton,(858) and have had no accidents, I hope, on the road.

(856) Lady Mary Coke, youngest daughter of John Duke of Argyle,
married to Lord Coke, eldest son of the Earl of Leicester.
After his death she fancied an attachment existed between herself
and the Duke of York, brother of George the Third; which she
likewise fancied had ended in an undeclared marriage.-M.B.

(857) The antique marble eagle in the gallery at Strawberry Hill,
round the neck of which was to have been suspended some lines
which Lord Orford had written, extolling the, Duke of York's
military fame and conquests in Holland, which the unfortunate
issue of the campaign obliged him to suppress.-E.

(858) The seat of Sir George Cayley, Bart.   near Scarborough.



Letter 406 To The Miss Berrys.
Strawberry Hill, Oct. 6, 1793. (page 544)

You are welcome to Scarborough both, and buon proviccia!  As you,
Mrs. Mary, have been so mistaken about your sister, I shall allow
nobody for the future to take a panic about either but myself.  I
am rejoiced the journey seems hitherto to answer so well; but, do
you know, "it is very inconvenient to my Lord Castlecomer." I am
forced to eat all the game of your purparties, as well as my own
thirds.

Pray did not you think that the object of the grand alliance was
to reduce France? No such thing! at least their views have
changed ever since they heard of your setting out.  Without
refining too much, it is clear to me that all they think on now,
is to prevent my sending you news.  Does any army stir? Is not
the Duke of Brunswick gone to sleep again, like a paroli at faro,
or like a paroil at Torbay, which cocks one corner, but never
wins a septleva?  That Lord Admiral reminds me of a trait of poor
Don Carlos, which helped on his death-warrant.  He one day made a
little book, which he intituled "The Travels of Philip the
Second, King of Spain." It contained his Majesty's removals from
his capital to his country palaces, and back again.  Well! if all
those monarchs are so pitiful as to set their wits against you, I
will balk them.  I will do as other folks do; I will make news
myself-not to-night; for I have no invention by me at present:
besides, you are apt to sift news too shrewdly

.But, before I coin a report for you, I must contradict one.  If
you should hear in Yorkshire, that I am appointed aide-de-camp to
the Duke of York, you may safely contradict it.  It could only
arise from the Duchess of York's visit to me; just as, the year
before you came to Cliveden, your predecessor, Sir Robert
Goodere, literally told me, that he heard that Princess Elizabeth
had been sent to me for two days for the air.  On questioning him
roundly, I discovered that he had heard no such thing; but had
conjectured so.  on seeing two of the Duchess of Gloucester's
servants pass before his door from or to the Pavilions; which
ought not to have puzzled the goose's imagination a moment--but
thus reports originate!

Monday night, 7th.

I come from Mrs. Jeffries at Richmond, but return not a battle
richer than I went; though I saw the secretary-at-war' there, and
even the panic-master-general, who had not a single alarm to
bestow on a poor soul who is hungering and thirsting for news,
good or bad, to send to you.  Sir George Yonge,(859) indeed, did
tell us, that thirty Jacobins, who had disguised themselves as
priests, to bring scandal on their countrymen of that profession,
but who, the Bishop of Leon declares, are none of their clergy,
have been detected and seized, and are to be sent away to-morrow.
Home news from Richmond.  Your friend Mr. Dundas was robbed this
morning at eleven o'clock at Cranford-bridge.  He happened to
tell them he is a surgeon; on which they insisted on his giving
them his case of instruments.  I suspect they are French
surgeons, and will poison the instruments for the first wound
they dress.  You see how I labour in your service, though my
crops are small.  An old Duchess of Rutland, mother of the late
Duchess of Montrose, whenever a visiter told her some news or
scandal, cried to her daughter, "Lucy, do step into next room,
and make a memorandum of what Lady Greenwich, or Lady M.M.  or
N.N.  has been telling us."  "Lord! Madam, to be sure it cannot
be true."  "No matter, child; it will do for news in the
country."  It is for want of such prudent provision pour le
couvent, that so many people are forced to invent off-hand.  You
cannot say I am so thoughtless: you receive every morsel
piping-hot as it comes from the bakers.  One word about our
glorious weather, and I have done.  It even improves every day.
I kept the window open till dinner-time to-day, and could do
nothing but gaze at the brilliant beauty of the verdure.  It is
so equal to ordinary Julys, that one is surprised to see the sun
set before six o'clock.  Good night!

(859) Sir George Yonge.



Letter 407 To Miss Hannah More.(860)
Strawberry Hill, Oct. 1793. page 546)

Though it would make me happy, my dear Madam, if you were more
corresponding, yet I must not reproach your silence, nor wish it
were less; for all your moments are so dedicated to goodness, and
to unwearied acts of benevolence, that you must steal from
charity, or purloin from the repose you want, any that you bestow
on me.  Do not I know, too, alas! how indifferent your health is!
You sacrifice that to your duties: but can a friend, who esteems
you so highly as I do, be so selfish as to desire to cost you
half an hour's headache!  No, never send me a line that you can
employ better; that would trespass on your ease.

Of the trash written against you I had never even heard.(861)
Nor do I believe that they gave you any other disquiet than what
arose from seeing that the worthiest and most humane intentions
are poison to some human beings.  Oh! have not the last five
years brought to light such infernal malevolence, such monstrous
crimes, as mankind had grown civilized enough to disbelieve when
they read any thing similar in former ages; if, indeed, any thing
similar has been recorded.  But I must not enter into what I dare
not fathom.  Catherine Slay-Czar triumphs over the good honest
Poles; and Louis Seize perishes on a scaffold, the best of men:
while whole assemblies of fiends, calling themselves men, are
from day to day meditating torment and torture for his heroic
widow; On whom, with all their power and malice, and with every
page, footman, and chambermaid of hers In their reach, and with
the rack in their hands, they have not been able to fix a speck.
Nay, do they not talk of the inutility of evidence? What other
virtue ever sustained such an ordeal? But who can wonder, when
the Almighty himself is called by one of those wretches, the
soi-disant God.

You say their outrageous folly tempts you to smile(862)--yes,
yes: at times I should have laughed too, if I could have dragged
my muscles at once from the zenith of horror to the nadir of
contempt: but their abominations leave one leisure enough to leap
from indignation to mirth.  I abhor war and bloodshed as much as
you do; but unless the earth is purged of such monsters, peace
and morality will never return.  This is not a war of nation and
nation; it is the cause of every thing dear and sacred to
civilized man, against the unbounded licentiousness of assassins,
who massacre even the generals who fight for them--not that I
pity the latter; but to whom can a country be just that rewards
tools with the axe? What animal is so horrible as one that
devours its own young ones?

That execrable nation overwhelms ill moralizing.  At any other
minute the unexpected death of Lady Falmouth would be striking:
yet I am sorry for Mrs. Boscawen.  I have been ill for six weeks
with the gout, and am just recovered: yet I remember it less than
the atrocities of France; and I remember, if possible, with
greater indignation, their traitors here at home; amongst whom
are your antagonists.  Do not apologize for talking Of them and
yourself.  Punish them not by answering, but by supporting the
good cause, and by stigmatizing the most imprudent impiety that
ever was avowed.

Mrs. Garrick dined here to-day, with some of the quality of
Hampton and Richmond.  She appears quite well, and was very
cheerful: I wish you were as well recovered.  Do you remember how
ill I found you both last year in the Adelphi? Adieu!  thou
excellent champion, as well as practiser, of all goodness.  Let
the vile abuse vented against you be balm to your mind: your
writings must have done great service, when they have so provoked
the enemy.  All who have religion or principle must revere your
name.  Who would not be hated by Duponts and Dantons!--and if
abhorrence of atheism implies Popery, reckon it a compliment to
be called Papist.  The French have gone such extravagant lengths,
that to preach or practise massacres is, with them, the sole test
of merit-of patriotism.  Just in one point Only they have merit;
they sacrifice the blackest criminals with as much alacrity as
the most innocent or the most virtuous: but I beg your pardon; I
know not how to stop when I talk of these ruffians.  Yours, most
cordially and most sincerely.

(860) Now first collected.

(861) Three abusive answers to Miss More's pamphlet against M.
Dupont had just been published.-E.

(862) Miss More had said,--"These mad monkeys of the Convention
do contrive to enliven my unappeasable indignation against them
with occasional provocatives to mirth.  How do you like the
egregious inventions of the anniversary follies of the 10th of
August?"-E.



Letter 408 To The Miss Berrys.
Strawberry Hill, Tuesday evening, eight o'clock, Oct. 15, 1793.
(page 547)

Though I do not know when it will have its whole lading, I must
begin my letter this very moment, to tell you what I have just
heard.  I called on the Princesse d'Hennin, who has been in town
a week.  I found her quite alone, and I thought she did not
answer quite clearly about her two knights: the Prince de Poix
has taken a lodging in town, and she talks of letting her house
here, if she can.  In short, I thought she had a little of an
Ariadne-air--but this was not what I was in such a hurry to tell
you.  She showed me several pieces of letters, I think from the
Duchesse de Bouillon: one says, that poor Duchesse de Biron is
again arrested and at the Jacobins, and with her "une jeune
`etourdie, qui ne fait que chanter toute la journ`ee;" and who,
think you, may that be?--only our pretty little wicked Duchesse
de Fleury! by her singing and not sobbing, I suppose she was
weary of her Tircis, and is glad to be rid of him.  This new
blow, I fear, will overset Madame de Biron again.  The rage at
Paris seems to increase daily or hourly; they either despair, or
are now avowed banditti.  I tremble so much for the great- and
most suffering victim of all, the Queen, that one cannot feel so
much for many, as several perhaps deserve: but her tortures have
been of far longer duration than any martyrs, and more various;
and her courage and patience equal to her woes!(864)

My poor old friend, the Duchesse de la Vali`ere, past ninety and
stone-deaf, has a guard set upon her, but in her own house; her
daughter, the Duchesse de Chatillon, mother of the Duchesse de la
Tremouille, is arrested; and thus the last, with her attachment
to the Queen, must be miserable indeed!--But one would think I
feel for nothing but Duchesses: the crisis has crowded them
together into my letter, and into a prison;-and to be prisoner
amongst cannibals is pitiable indeed!

Thursday morning, 17th, past ten.

I this moment receive the very comfortable twin-letter.  I am so
conjugal, and so much in earnest upon the article of recovery,
that I cannot think of a pretty thing to say to very pretty Mrs.
Stanhope; nor do I know what would be a pretty thing in these
days.  I might come out with some old-fashioned compliment, that
would have been very genteel In

"good Queen Bess's golden day, when I was a dame of honour."

 Let Mrs. Stanhope(865) imagine that I have said all she
deserves: I certainly think it, and will ratify it, when I have
learnt the language of the nineteenth century; but I really am so
ancient, that as Pythagoras imagined he had been Panthoides
Enphorbus in the Trojan war, I am not sure that I did not ride
upon a pillion behind a gentleman-usher, when her Majesty
Elizabeth went in procession to St. Paul's on the defeat of the
Armada! Adieu! the postman puts an end to idle speculations--but,
Scarborough for ever! with three huzzas!

(863) The Duchess perished under the guillotine in the following
year.-E.

(864) On the 16th of October, a few hours after Walpole had
penned the above letter, the unfortunate Marie Antoinette was
conducted, amidst a great concourse of the populace, to the fatal
spot, where, ten months before, Louis the Sixteenth had perished.
"Sorrow had blanched her once beautiful hair: but her features
and air commanded the admiration of all who beheld her.  Her
cheeks, pale and emaciated, were occasionally tinged with a vivid
colour at the mention of those she had lost.  When led out to
execution, she was dressed in white; she had cut off her hair
with her own hands.  Placed in a tumbrel, with her arms tied
behind her, she was taken to the Place de la R`evolution.  She
listened with calmness to the exhortations of the ecclesiastic
who accompanied her, and cast an indifferent look at the people
who had so often applauded her beauty and her grace, and who now
as warmly applauded her execution.  On reaching the foot of the
scaffold, she perceived the Tuileries, and appeared to be moved;
but she hastened to ascend the fatal ladder, and gave herself up
with courage to the executioner.  The infamous wretch exhibited
her head to the people, as he was accustomed to do when he had
sacrificed an illustrious victim.  The Jacobins were overjoyed.
'Let these tidings be carried to Austria,' said they; 'the Romans
sold the ground occupied by Hannibal; we strike off the heads
that are dearest to the sovereigns who have invaded our
territory.' " See Thiers, vol. iii. p. 196, and Lacretelle, tom.
xi. p. 261.-E.

(865) The wife of Colonel Stanhope, brother of the Earl of
Harrington.



Letter 409 To The Miss Berrys.
Strawberry Hill, Nov. 7, 1793. (page 549)

I often lay the egg of my journals two or three days before they
are hatched.  This may make some of my articles a little stale
before you get them; but then you know they are the more
authentic, if the Echo has not told me to unsay them-and, if a
Prince of Wales drops a thumping victory at my door as he goes
by, you have it hot out of the oven--though, as happened lately,
not half baked.(866)

The three last newspapers are much more favourable, than you
seemed to expect.  Nieuport has been saved; Ostend is safe.  The
Royalists in La Vend`ee are not demolished, as the Convention of
Lars asserted.  Strasbourg seems likely to fall.  At Toulon even
the Neapolitans, on whom you certainly did not reckon, have
behaved like heroes.  As Admiral Gravina is so hearty, though his
master makes no progress in France, I suspect that the sovereign
of so many home kingdoms is a little afraid Of trusting his army
beyond the borders, lest the Catalans should have something of
the old--or new leaven.  In the mean time, it Is still more
provoking to hear of Catherine Slay-Czar sitting on her throne
and playing with royal marriages, without sending a single ship
or regiment to support the cause of Europe, and to punish the Men
of the Mountain, who really are the assassins that the Crusaders
supposed or believed existed in Asia.  Oh! Marie Antoinette, what
a contrast between you and Petruchia!

Domestic news are scanty, but dismal, and you have seen them
anticipated; as the loss of the young Lord Montague(867) and Mr.
Burdett,(868) drowned in a cataract in Switzerland by their own
obstinate folly.(869)  Mr. Tickell's death was a determined
measure, and more shocking than the usual mode by a pistol.  He
threw himself from one of the uppermost windows of the palace at
Hampton Court, into the garden -an immense height! Some attribute
his despair to debts; some to a breach with his political
friends.  I am not acquainted with, but am sorry for him, as I
liked his writings.(870)

Our weather remains unparagoned; Mrs. Hastings is not more
brilliant: the elms are evergreens.  I a little regret your not
seeing how beautiful Cliveden can be on the 7th of November; ay,
and how warm.  Then the pheasants, partridges, and hares from
Houghton, that you lose: they would have exceeded Camacho's
wedding, and Sancho Panza would have talked chapters about them.
I am forced to send them about the neighbourhood, as if I were
making interest to be chosen for the united royal burghs of
Richmond and Hampton Court.  But all this is not worth sending: I
must wait for a better bouche.  I want Wurmser to be Caesar, and
send me more Commentaries de Bello Gallico.  What do you say to
those wretches who have created Death an endless Sleep,(871) that
nobody may boggle at any crime for fear of hell?  Methinks they
have no reason to dread the terrors of conscience in any
Frenchman!


November 10th.

Hiatus non deflendus; for I have neither heard a word, nor had a
word to say these three days.  Victories do not come every tide,
like mackerel, or prizes in the Irish lottery.  Yesterday's paper
discounted a little of Neapolitan valour; but, as even the Dutch
sometimes fight upon recollection, and as there was no account
yet of O'Hara's arrival at Toulon, I hope he will laugh or
example lor' Signori into spirit.

YOU Will Wonder at my resuming my letter, when I profess having
nothing to add to it; but yours of the 7th is just arrived, and I
could not make this commenced sheet lie quiet in my writing-box:
it would begin gossiping with your letter, though I vowed it
shall not Set out till to-morrow.  "Why, you empty thing," said
I, "how do you know but there may have been a Gazette last night,
crammed With vast news, which, as no paper comes out on Sundays,
we shall not learn here; and would you be such a goose as to
creep through Brentford and Hammersmith and Kensington, where the
bells may be drinking some general's health, and will scoff you
for asking whose? Indeed you Shall not stir before to-morrow.
Lysons is returned from Gloucestershire, and is to dine here
to-day; and he will at least bring us a brick, like Harlequin, as
a pattern of any town that we may have taken.  Moreover, no Post
sets out from London on Sunday nights, and you would only sit
guzzling--I don't mean you, Miss Berry, but you, my letter-with
the clerks of the post-office.  Patience till tomorrow."

We have had some rain, even this last night: but the weather is
fine all day, and quite warm.  I believe it has made an
assignation with the Glastonbury Thorn, and that they are to
dance together on old Christmas-day.  What could I do with myself
in London! All my playthings are here, and I have no playfellows
left there! Lady Herries's and poor Mrs. Hunter's(872) are shut
up.  Even the "one game more at cribbage"(873) after supper is on
table, which is not my supreme felicity, though accompanied by
the Tabor and Pipe,(874) is in the country or, to say all in a
word, North Audley-street is in Yorkshire! Reading composes
little of my pastime, either in town or country.  A catalogue of
books and prints, or a dull history of a county, amuse me
sufficiently; for now I cannot open a French book, as it would
keep alive ideas that I want to banish from my thoughts.  When I
am tired at home, I go and sit an hour or two with the ladies of
Murray,(875) or the Doyleys, and find them conversable and
comfortable; and my pessime aller is Richmond.

Monday morning, 11th.

Lysons(876) has been drawing churches in Gloucestershire, and
digging out a Roman villa and mosaic pavement near Cirencester,
which he means to publish: but he knew nothing outlandish; so if
the newspaper does not bring me something fresh for you
presently, this limping letter must set out with its empty
wallet.  Mrs. Piozzi is going to publish a book on English
Synonymes.  Methinks she had better have studied them, before she
stuffed her Travels with so many vulgarisms!(877)

(866) This alludes to some false report of the time.

(867) Lord Viscount Montague was the last male heir of a most
noble and ancient family, in a lineal descent from the Lady Lucy
Nevill.-E.

(868) Charles Sedley Burdett, second son of Francis Burdett Esq.
and brother of Francis, who on the death of his grandfather, Sir
Robert Burdett, in 1797, succeeded to the baronetcy.-E.

(869) They insisted on shooting down the, great fall of the Rhine
at Schaflhausen in a boat, against the remonstrances of the
neighbouring inhabitants and their refusal of every bribe, either
to assist or accompany them.  They and their boat were shattered
to pieces, and their remains were found some days after, at a
considerable distance from the scene of their mad exploit.

(870) Richard Tickell, Esq. author of "Anticipation," the "
Wreath of Fashion," and other poems.  He was a commissioner of
the stamp-office, and brother-in-law to Richard Brinsley
Sheridan.-E.

(871) "C'est ici l'asile du sommeil `eternel," was the republican
inscription over all the public cemeteries.  Pache, Hebert, and
Chaumette, the leaders of the municipality, publicly expressed
their determination to dethrone the King of Heaven, as well as
the kings of the earth.  Gebel, the constitutional Bishop of
Paris, disowned at the bar of the Convention the existence of a
God.  On the 10th of November, a female whom they termed the
Goddess of Reason, was admitted within the bar, and placed on the
right hand of the president.  After receiving the fraternal hug,
she was mounted on a magnificent car, and conducted to the church
of Notre Dame, to take the place of the Holy of Holies; and
thenceforth that ancient and imposing cathedral was called "the
Temple of Reason,"  See Thiers, vol. iii, p. 2,25, and
Lacretelle, torn. xi. p, 306.-E.

(872) Widow of Dr. John Hunter.

(873) A manner of designating the Countess of Ailesbury.

(874) Two old ladies of his society, whom he thus called.

(875)     Sisters to the great Earl of Mansfield.


(876) Samuel Lysons, Esq. brother to the Rev. Daniel Lysons, of
whom a notice has been given at p. 438, (letter 344, note 674(,
and author of several works relating to the Roman Antiquities of
Great Britain.  He also published, in conjunction with his
brother, the earlier volumes of the "Magna Britannica." In 1804,
be succeeded Mr. Astle as keeper of the records in the Tower of
London; which office he held till his death in 1819.  Mr.
Mathias, in November 1797, described him as "one of the most
judicious, best-informed, and most learned amateur antiquaries in
the kingdom in his department;" and his work on the remains of
the Roman villa and pavements near Gloucester, as "such a
specimen of ingenuity, unwearied zeal, and critical accuracy in
delineating and illustrating the fragments of antiquity, as
rarely had been equalled, certainly never surpassed." See
Pursuits of Literature.-E.

(877) The following is Mr. Gifford's opinion of the
qualifications of the lady for such a work--"Though no one better
knows his own house' than I the vanity of this woman; yet the
idea of her undertaking it had never entered my head; and I was
thunderstruck when I first saw it announced.  To execute it with
any tolerable degree of success, required a rare combination of
talents, among the least of which may be numbered neatness of
style, acuteness of perception, and a more than common accuracy
of discrimination; and Mrs. Piozzi brought to the task, a jargon
long since become proverbial for its vulgarity, an utter
incapacity of defining a single term in the language, and just as
much Latin from a child's syntax as sufficed to expose the
ignorance she so anxiously labours to conceal." See Baviad and
Maviad.-E.



Letter 410 To Miss Berry.
Berkeley Square, Wednesday, Dec. 4, 1793. (page 552)

I begin my last letter to Bransby, that I may have it ready to
send away the moment I shall have any thing worth telling; which
I certainly have not yet.  What is become of Lord Howe and Co.
you may guess if you please, as every body is doing--

"I'm weary of conjectures--"

but shall not end them like Cato, because I take the fate of a
whole fleet a little more likely to come to a solution than
doubts in metaphysics; and if Lord Howe should at last bring home
two or three French men-of-war, one would not be out of the way
to receive them.  In the mean time, let us chat as if the destiny
of half Europe were not at this moment in agitation.

I went on Monday evening with Miss Damer to the little Haymarket,
to see "The Children in the Wood," having heard so much of my
favourite, young Bannister, in that new piece; which, by the way,
is well arranged, and near being fine.(878)  He more than
answered
my expectation, and all I had heard of him.  It was one of the
most admirable performances I ever saw: his transports of despair
and joy are incomparable, and his various countenances would be
adequate to the pencil of Salvator Rosa.  He made me shed as many
tears as I suppose the original old ballad did when I was six
years old. Bannister's merit was the more striking, as, before
"The Children in the Wood," he had been playing the sailor in "No
Song no Supper," with equal nature.  I wish I could hope to be as
much pleased tomorrow night when I am to go to Jerningham's play;
but there is no Bannister at Covent-garden!

On Sunday night I found the Comte de Coigni(879) at Lady Lucan's.
He was to set out the next morning with Lord Moira's expedition
as a common soldier.  This sounded decent and well; but you may
guess that he had squeezed a little Frenchism into his intention,
and had asked for a vessel and some soldiers to attend him.  I
don't know whether he has condescended to go without them.  I
asked him about his daughter; he said, he did not believe she was
in prison.  Others say, it is the Duchesse de Fleury, her
mother-in-law.  I have been surprised at not seeing or hearing
any thing of poor Fleury(880) but I am told he has been forced to
abscond, having narrowly escaped being arrested by a coachmaker,
to whom he owed five hundred pounds for carriages: which, to be
sure, he must have had, or
bespoken at Paris before the revolution.

Thursday noon.

Yesterday came a letter to the Admiralty, notifying that Lord
Howe has taken five of the Brest squadron: but this intelligence
is derived through so many somebodys, that handed it to
somebodys, that I am not much inclined, except by wishing it
true, to believe it.  However, the wind has got much more to the
west, and now we shall probably not remain much longer in total
darkness.

Three o'clock.

Another account is come to Mrs. Nugent's(881) from her husband,
with the same story of the five captive French men-of-war; and so
that reading is admitted: but for my part, I will admit nothing
but under Lord Howe's own hand.  It is tiresome to be like the
scene in Amphitryon, and cry one minute "Obvious, obvious!" and
the next "Dubious, dubious!" Such fluctuability is fit only for a
stock-jobber.  Adieu!  I must dress and dine, or I shall not be
ready to wait on your grandfather Seton.(882)

(878) See the Memoirs of this admirable comedian, by Mr.
Adolphus, recently published in two volumes octavo.  The drama
here spoken of was the production of Mr. Morton, and formed from
the ancient ballad of the cruel uncle who murdered his brother's
children in a wood, that he might inherit the family estate.-E.

(879) Younger brother of the Duc de Coigni, the grand `ecuyer of
Marie Antoinette and great uncle of the present Duc de Coigni.

(880) The Duc de Fleury, the Count de Coigni's son-in-law.

(881) The wife of Admiral Nugent.

(882) he means Mr. Jerningham's play, the Siege of Berwick.



Letter 411 To The Miss Berrys.
Friday, December 13, 1793. (page 553)

You will not wonder at my dulness about the time of your setting
out, and of the giles you are to make on the road: you are used
to my fits of incomprehension; and, as is natural at my age, I
believe they increase.  What augmented them was my eagerness to
be sure of every opportunity of sending you the earliest
intelligence of every event that may happen at this critical
period.  That impatience has sometimes made me too precipitate in
my information.  I believed Lord Howe's success too rapidly: you
have seen by all the newspapers, that both the ministers and the
public were equally credulous, from the collateral channels that
imported such assertions! Well! if you have been disappointed of
capturing five or six French men-of-war, you must at present stay
your appetite by some handsome slices of St. Domingo, and by
plentiful goblets of French blood shed by the Duke of Brunswick;
which we firmly believe, though the official intelligence was not
arrived last night.  His Highness, who has been so serene for
above a year, seems to have waked to some purpose and, which is
not less propitious, his victory indicates that his principal,
the King of Prussia, has added no more French jewels to his
regalia.  I shall like to hear the National Convention accuse him
of being bribed by a contrary Pitt's diamond.(883)  Here is
another comfortable symptom: it looks as if Robespierre would
give up Barr`ere.  How fortunate that Beelzebubs and Molochs
peach one another, like human highwaymen! I will tell you a
reflection I have made, and which shows how the worst monsters
counteract their own councils.  Many formerly, who meant to
undermine religion, began by sapping the belief of a devil.
Next, by denying God, they have restored Satan to his throne, or
will; though the present system is a republic of fiends.  The
Pandemonium below recalls its agents, as if they were only
tribunes of the people elected by temporary factions.  Barnave,
called the Butcher in the first Convention, is ,gone, like
Orleans and Brissot.  If we do not presume to interpret
judgments, I wonder the monsters themselves do not: enough has
happened already to warn them of their own fate!

The Conways are in town for two or three days: they came for Mr.
Jerningham's play.  Harris had at last allowed him the fourth
night; and he had a good night.  I have a card from Lady Amherst
for Monday; and shall certainly go, as my lord behaved so nobly
about our cousin.(884)  I have another from the Margravine of
Anspach, to sup at Hammersmith; whither I shall certainly not go,
but plead the whole list of chronical distempers.  Do you think
if the whole circle of Princes of Westphalia were to ask me for
next Thursday evening,(885) that I would accept the invitation?

Saturday, Dec. 14, 1793.

I am glad this is to be the last of my gazettes.  I am tired of
notifying and recalling the articles of news: not that I am going
to dislaurel the Duke of Brunswick; but not a sprig is yet come
in confirmation.  Military critics even conjecture, by the
journals from Manheim and Frankfort, that the German victories
have not been much more than repulses of the French, and have
been bought dearly.  I have inclined to believe the best from
Wurmser; but I confess my best hopes are from the factions of
Paris.  If the gangrene does not gain the core, how calculate the
duration? It has already baffled all computation, all conjecture.
One wonders now that France, in its totality, was not more fatal
to Europe than even it was.  Is not it astonishing, that after
five years of such havoc, such emigrations, expulsions,
massacres, annihilation of commerce, evanition Of specie, and
real or impending famine, they can still furnish and support
armies against us and the Austrians in Flanders, against the Duke
of Brunswick and Wurmser, against us at Toulon, against the King
of Sardinia, against Spain, against the Royalists in La Vend`ee,
and along the coast against our expedition under Lord Moira; and
though we have got fifteen of their men-of-war at Toulon, they
have sixteen, or more, at Brest, and are still impertinent with a
fry of privateers?  Consider, too, that all this spirit is kept
up by the most extravagant lies, delusions, rhodomontade; by the
extirpation of the usual root of enthusiasm, religion; and by the
terror of murder, that ought to revolt all mankind.  If such a
system of destruction does not destroy itself, there is an end of
that ignis fatuus, human reason; and French policy must govern,
or exterminate mankind.

I this moment received Your Thursday's note, with that for your
housekeeper, who is in town, and with those sweet words, "You
need not leave a card; we shall be at home." I do not believe I
shall send you an excuse.  Marshal Conway has stopped in to tell
me, he has Just met with his nephew, Lord Yarmouth,(886) who has
received a letter from a foreign minister at Manheim, who asserts
all the Duke of Brunswick's victories, and the destruction or
dispersion of the French army in that quarter.  The Earl
maintains, that the King of Prussia's politics are totally
changed to the right, and that eighteen thousand more of his
troops have joined the allies.  I should like to know, and to
have the Convention know, that the murder of the Queen of France
has operated this revulsion.

I hope I send you no more falsehoods-at least, you must allow,
that it is not on bad authority.  If Lord Howe has disappointed
you, you will accept the prowess of the virago his sister, Mrs.
Howe.(887)  As soon as it was known that her brother had failed,
a Jacobin mob broke her windows, mistaking them for his.  She
lifted up the sash, and harangued them; told them, that was not
the house of her brother, Who lives in the other part of
Grafton-street, and that she herself is a widow, and that that
house is hers.  She stilled the waves, and they dispersed
quietly.

There! There end my volumes, to my great satisfaction!  If we are
to have any bonfires or illuminations, you will be here to light
them Yourselves.  Adieu to Yorkshire!


(883) He means bribed by the then prime minister.

(884) Lord Amherst, the then commander-in-chief, had appointed a
cousin of Miss Berry's to an ensigncy, on his recommendation.

(885) The persons addressed were to arrive in London.

(886) The present Marquis of Hertford.

(887) A person of distinguished abilities, She possessed an
extraordinary force of mind, clearness of understanding, and
remarkable powers of thought and combination, She retained them
unimpaired to the great age of eighty-five, by exercising them
daily, both in the practice of mathematics and in reading the two
dead languages; of which, late in life, she had made herself
mistress.  To those acquirements must be added warm.  and lively
feelings, joined to a perfect knowledge of the world and of the
society of which she had always been a distinguished member.  Mr.
Walpole, from misinformation of her conduct towards a friend of
his in earlier life, had never done justice to her character--a
mistake, in which she did not participate, relative to him.-M.B.



Letter 412 To The Hon. H. S. Conway.
Berkeley Square, Jan. 10, 1794. (page 555)

I certainly sympathize with you on the reversed and gloomy
prospect of affairs, too extensive to detail in a letter; nor
indeed do I know any thing more than I collect from newspapers
and public reports; and those are so overcharged with falsehoods
on all sides, that, if one waits for truth to emerge, one finds
new subjects to draw one's attention before firm belief can
settle its trust on any.  That the mass and result are bad, is
certain; and though I have great alacrity in searching for
comforts and grounds of new hopes, I am puzzled as much in
seeking resources, as in giving present credit.  Reasonine is out
of the question: all calculation is baffled: nothing happens that
Sense Or experience said was probable.  I wait to see what will
happen, without a guess at what is to be expected.  A storm, when
the Parliament meets, will no doubt be attempted.  How the
ministers are prepared to combat it, I don't know, but I hope
sufficiently, if it spreads no farther: at least I think they
have no cause to fear the new leader who is to make the attack.

I have neither seen Mr. Wilson's book(888) nor his answerers.  So
far from reading political pamphlets, I hunt for any books,
except modern novels, that will not bring France to my mind, or
that at least will put it out for a time.  But every fresh person
one sees, revives the conversation: and excepting a long
succession of fogs, nobody talks of any thing else; nor of
private news do I know a tittle.  Adieu!

(888) It was entitled "A Letter, Commercial and Political,
addressed to the Right Hon. William Pitt-, by Jasper Wilson, jun.
Esq." The real author was Dr. Currie, the friend of Mr.
Wilberforce; who commends it, "as exhibiting originality of
thought and force of expression, and solving, finely the
phenomena of revolutions." See Life, vol. ii. p. 13.-E.



Letter 413 To Miss Berry.
Thursday evening, April 16, 1794. (page 556)

I am delighted that you have such good weather for your
villeggiatura.  The sun has not appeared here to-day; yet it has
been so warm, that he may not be gone out of town, and only keeps
in because it is unfashionable to be seen in London at Easter.
All my evening customers are gone, except Mrs. Damer, and she is
at home to-night with the Greatheds and Mrs. Siddons, and a few
more; and she had a mind I should go to her, I had a mind too;
but think myself still too weak: after confinement for fourteen
weeks, it seems formidable to sally forth.  I have heard no
novelty since you 'went, but of more progress in Martinico; on
which it is said there is to be a Gazette, and which, I suppose,
gave a small fillip to the stocks this morning: though my Jew,
whom I saw again this morning, ascribed the rise to expectation
in the City of news of a counter-revolution at Paris;-but a
revolution to be, generally proves an addled egg.

The Gazette arrives, and little of Martinico remained
unconquered.  The account from Sir Charles Gray is one continued
panegyric on the conduct of our officers soldiers, and sailors;
who do not want to be driven on `a la Dumaurier, by cannon behind
them and on both sides.  A good quantity of artillery and stores
is taken too, and only two officers and about seventy men killed.
There is a codicil to the Gazette, with another post taken--the
map, I suppose, knows where I do not--but you, who are a
geographess, will, or easily find it out.

At my levee before dinner, I had Mrs. Buller, Lady Lucan, Sir
Charles Blagden, Mr. Coxe, and Mr. Gough.  This was a good day; I
have not always so welcome a circle.  I have run through both
volumes of Mrs. Piozzi.  Here and there she does not want parts,
has some good translations, and stories that are new;
particularly an admirable bon-mot of Lord Chesterfield, which I
never heard before, but dashed with her cruel vulgarisms: see
vol. ii. p. 291.  The story, I dare to say, never happened, but
was invented by the Earl himself; to introduce his reply.  The
sun never was the emblem of Louis Quinze, but of Louis Quatorze;
In whose time his lordship was not ambassador, nor the Czarina
Empress: nor, foolish as some ambassadors are, could two of them
propose devices for toasts; as if, like children, they were
playing at pictures and mottoes: and what the Signora styles a
public toust, the Earl, I conclude, called a great dinner then.
I have picked out a motto for her work in her own words, and
written it on the title-page: "Simplicity cannot please without
eloquence!" Now I think on't, let me ask if you have been as much
diverted as you was at first? and have not two such volumes
sometimes set you a'yawning?  It is comic, that in a treatise on
synonymous words, she does not know which are and which are not
so.  In the chapter on worth, she says, "The worth -even of money
fluctuates in our state;" instead of saying in this country.  Her
very title is wrong; as she does not even mention synonymous
Scottish words: it ought to be called not British, but English
Synonymy.

Mr. Courtenay has published some epistles in rhyme, in which he
has honoured me with a dozen lines, and which are really some of
the best in the whole set-in ridicule of my writings.  One
couplet, I suppose, alludes to my Strawberry verses on you and
your sister.  Les voici--

"Who to love tunes his note, with the fire of old age,
And chirps the trim lay in a trim Gothic cage!"

If I were not as careless as I am about literary fame, still,
this censure would be harmless indeed; for except the exploded
story of Chatterton, of which I washed myself as white as snow,
Mr. Courtenay falls on my choice of subjects--as, of Richard the
Third and the Mysterious Mother--and not on the execution; though
I fear there is enough to blame in the texture of them.  But this
new piece of criticism, or whatever it is, made me laugh, as I am
offered up on the tomb of my poor mad nephew; who is celebrated
for one of his last frantic acts, a publication in some monthly
magazine, with an absurd hypothesis on "the moon bursting from
the earth, and the earth from the sun, somehow or other:" but
how, indeed, especially from Mr. Courtenay's paraphrase, I have
too much sense to comprehend.  However, I am much obliged to him
for having taken such pains to distinguish me from my lunatic
precursor, that even the European Magazine, when I shall die,
will not be able to confound us.  Richard the Third would be
sorry to have it thought hereafter, that I had ever been under
the care of Dr. Munro.  Well! good night!



Letter 414 To Miss Hannah More.
April 27, 1794. (page 558)

This is no plot to draw you into committing even a good deed on a
Sunday, which I suppose the literality of your conscience would
haggle about, as if the day of the week constitutes the sin, and
not the nature of the crime.  But you may defer your answer till
to-night is become to-morrow by the clock having struck one; and
then you may do an innocent thing without any guilt, which a
quarter of an hour sooner you would think abominable.  Nay, as an
Irishman would say, you need not even read this note till the
canonical hour is past.

In short, my dear Madam), I gave your obliging message to Lady
Waldegrave, who will be happy to see you on Tuesday, at one
o'clock But as her staircase is very bad, as she is in a lodging,
I have proposed that this meeting, for which I have been pimping
between two female saints, may be held here in my house, as I had
the utmost difficulty last night in climbing her scala santa, and
I cannot undertake it again.  But if you are so good as to send
me a favourable answer to-morrow, I will take care you shall find
her here at the time I mentioned, with your true admirer.



Letter 415 To The Miss Berrys.
Strawberry Hill, Saturday night, Sept. 27, 1794. (page 558)

I have been in town, as I told you I should, but gleaned nothing
worth repeating, or I Would have wrote before I came away.  The
Churchills left me on Thursday, and were succeeded by the Marshal
and Mr. Taylor, who dined and stayed all night.  I am now alone,
having reserved this evening to answer your long, and Agnes's
short letter; but in this single one to both, for I have not
matter enough for a separate maintenance.
I went yesterday to Mrs. Damer, and had a glimpse of her new
house; literally a glimpse, for I saw but one room on the first
floor, where she had lighted a fire, that I might not mount two
flights; and as it was eight o'clock, and quite dark, she only
opened a door or two, and gave me a cat's-eye view into them.
One blemish I had descried at first; the house has a corner
arrival like her father's.  Ah, me! who do not love to be led
through the public.  I did see the new bust of Mrs. Siddons, and
a very mistressly performance it is indeed.  Mrs. Damer was
surprised at my saying I should expect you after you had not
talked of returning near so soon.  another week; she said.  "I do
not mention this, as if to gainsay your intention; on the
contrary, I hope and beg you will stay as long as either of you
thinks she finds the least benefit from it: and after that, too,
as long as you both like to stay.  I reproached myself so sadly,
and do still, for having dragged you from Italy sooner than you
intended, and am so grateful for your having had that
complaisance, that unless I grow quite superannuated, I think I
shall not be so selfish as to combat the inclination of either
again.  It is natural for me to delight in your company; but I do
not even wish for it, if it lays you under any restraint.  I have
lived a thousand years to little purpose, if I have not learned
that half a century more than the age of one's friends is not an
agr`ement de plus.

I wish you had seen Canterbury some years ago, before they
whitewashed it; for it is so coarsely daubed, and thence the
gloom is so totally destroyed, and so few tombs remain for so
vast a mass, that I was shocked at the nudity of the whole.  If
you should go thither again, make the Cicerone show you a pane of
glass in the east window, which does open, and exhibits a most
delicious view of the ruins Of St. Anstin's.

Mention of Canterbury furnishes me with a very suitable
opportunity for telling you a remarkable story, which I had from
Lady Onslow t'other night, and which was related to her by Lord
Ashburnham, on whose veracity you may depend.  In the hot weather
of this last summer, his lordship's very old uncle, the Bishop of
Chichester,(889) was waked in his palace at four o'clock in the
morning by his bedchamber door being opened, when a female
figure, all in white, entered, and sat down near him.  The
prelate, who protests he was not frightened, said in a tone of
authority, but not with the usual triple adjuration, "Who are
you?"  Not a word of reply; but the personage heaved a profound
sigh.  The Bishop rang the bell; but the servants were so sound
asleep, that nobody heard him.  He repeated his question: still
no answer; but another deep sigh.  Then the apparition took some
papers out of the ghost of its pocket, and began to read them to
itself.  At last, when the Bishop had continued to ring, and
nobody to come, the spectre rose and departed as sedately as it
had arrived.  When the servants did at length appear, the bishop
cried, "Well! what have you seen?"  "Seen, my lord!"  "Ay, seen;
or who, what is the woman that has been here?"  "Woman my lord!"
(I believe one of the fellows smiled; though, to do her justice,
Lady Onslow did not say so.) In short, when my lord had related
his vision, his domestics did humbly apprehend that his lordship
had been dreaming; and so did his whole family the next morning,
for in this our day even a bishop's household does not believe in
ghosts: and yet it is most certain that the good man had been in
no dream, and told nothing but what he had seen; for, as the
story circulated, and diverted the ungodly at the prelate's
expense, it came at last to the ears of a keeper of a mad-house
in the diocese, who came and deposed, that a female lunatic under
his care had escaped from his custody, and, finding the gate of
the palace open, had marched up to my lord's chamber.  The
deponent further said, that his prisoner was always reading a
bundle of papers.  I have known stories of ghosts, solemnly
authenticated, less credible; and I hope you will believe this,
attested by a father of our own church.

Sunday night, 28th, 1794.

I have received another letter from dear Mary, of the 26th; and
here is one for sweet Agnes enclosed.  By her account of
Broadstairs, I thought you at the North Pole; but if you are, the
whales must be metamorphosed into gigs and whiskies, or split
into them, as heathen gods would have done, or Rich the
harlequin.  You talk of Margate, but say nothing of Kingsgate,
where Charles Fox's father scattered buildings of all sorts, but
in no style of architecture that ever appeared before or has
since, and in no connexion with or to any other, and in all
directions; and yet the oddity and number made that naked, though
fertile soil, smile and look cheerful.  Do you remember Gray's
bitter lines on him and his vagaries and history?(890)

I wish on your return, if in good weather, you would contrive to
visit Mr. Barrett's at Lee; it is but four miles from Canterbury.
You will see a child of Strawberry prettier than the parent, and
so executed and so finished!  There is a delicious closet, too,
so flattering to me: and a prior's library so antique, and that
does such honour to Mr. Wyat's taste! Mr. Barrett, I am Most
sure, would be happy to show his house to you; and I know, if you
tell him that I beg it, he will produce the portrait of Anne of
Cleve by Holbein, in the identic ivory box, turned like a
Provence rose, as it Was brought over for Henry the Eighth.  It
will be a great favour, and it must be a fine day; for it lives
in cotton and clover, and he justly dreads exposing it to any
damp.  He has some other good pictures; and the whole place is
very pretty, though retired.

The Sunday's paper announces a dismal defeat of Clairfait; and
now, if true, I doubt the French will drive the Duke of York into
Holland, and then into the sea! Ora pro nobis!

P. S. If this is not a long letter, I do not know what is.  The
story of the ghost should have arrived on this, which is St.
Goose's-day, or the commemoration of the ignoble army of martyrs,
who have suffered in the persecution under that gormandizing
archangel St. Michael.

(889) The Right Rev. Sir William Ashburnham, Bart, his lordship
died at a very advanced age, in September 1797.  He was the
father of the bench, and the only bishop not appointed by George
the Third.-E.

(890) Entitled "Impromptu, suggested by a view, in 1766, of the
seat and ruins of a deceased Nobleman, at Kingsgate, Kent." See
Gray's Works, vol. i. p. 161, ed. 1836.-E.



Letter 416 To Miss Berry.
Strawberry Hill, Tuesday, Oct. 7, 1794. (page 561)

Your answer, which I own arrived a day sooner than I flattered
myself it would--I wish it could have told me how you passed the
storm of Sunday night it has not only relieved me from all
anxiety on the subject, but has made me exceedingly happy; for
though I mistook you for a moment, it has proved to me, that I
had judged perfectly right of your excellent and most uncommon
understanding.  Astonished I was, no doubt, while I conceived
that you wished to be placed in a situation so unworthy of your
talents and abilities and knowledge, and powers of
conversation.(891)  I never was of a court myself; but from my
birth and the position of my father, could but, for my first
twenty years, know much of the nature of the beast; and, from my
various connexions since, I have seldom missed farther
opportunities of keeping up my acquaintance even with the
interior.  The world in general is not ignorant of the complexion
of most courts; though ambition, interest, and vanity, are always
willing to leap over their information, or to fancy they can
counteract it: but I have no occasion to probe that delusion, nor
to gainsay your random opinion, that a court life may be eligible
for women.  Yes, for the idle ones you specify, perhaps so;-for
respectable women I think much less than even for men.  I do not
mean with regard to what is called their character; as if there
were but one virtue with which women have any concern-I speak of
their understanding, and consequential employment of their time.
In a court there must be much idleness, even without dissipation;
and amongst the female constituents, much self-importance
ill-founded; some ambition, Jealousy, envy-and thence hatred,
insincerity, little intrigues for credit, and--but I am talking
as if there were any occasion to dissuade you from what you
despise and I have only stated what occasioned my surprise at
your thinking of what you never did think at all.  Still, while I
did suppose that in any pore of your heart there did lurk such a
wish, I did give a great gulp and swallowed down all attempts to
turn your thoughts aside from it--and why? Yes, and you must be
ready to ask me, how such a true friend could give into the hint
without such numerous objections to a plan so unsuitable for you!
Oh! for strong reasons too.  In the first place, I was sure,
that, without my almost century of experience, your good sense
must have anticipated all my arguments.  You often confute my
desultory logic on points less important, as I frequently find;
but the true cause of my assenting, without suffering a sigh to
escape me was, because I was conscious that I could not dissuade
you fairly, without a grain or more of self mixing in the
argument.  I would not trust myself with myself.  I would not act
again as I did when you was in Italy; and answered you as fast as
I could, lest self should relapse.  Yet, though it did not last
an hour, what a combat it was! What a blow to my dream of
happiness, should you be attached to a court!  for though you,
probably, would not desert Cliveden entirely, how distracted
would Your time be!--But I will not enter into the detail of my
thoughts; you know how many posts they travel in a moment, when
my brain is set at work, and how firmly it believes all it
imagines: besides the defalcation of your society, I saw the host
of your porphyrogeniti, from top to bottom, bursting on my
tranquillity.  But enough: I conquered all these dangers, and
still another objection rose when I had discovered the only
channel I could open to your satisfaction, I had no little
repugnance to the emissary I was to employ.(892)  Though it is my
intention to be equitable to him, I should be extremely sorry to
give him a shadow of claim on me; and you know those who might
hereafter be glad to conclude, that it was no wonder they should
be disappointed, when gratitude on your account had been my
motive.  But my cares are at an end; and though I have laboured
through two painful days, the thorns of which were sharpened, not
impeded, by the storm, I am rejoiced at the blunder I made, as it
has procured me the kindest, and most heart-dictated, and most
heartfelt letter, that ever was written; for which I give you
millions of thanks.  Forgive my injurious surmise; for you see,
that though you can wound my affection, you cannot allay its
eagerness to please you, at the expense of my own satisfaction
and peace.

Having stated with most precise truth all I thought related to
yourself I do resume and repeat all I have said both in this and
my former letter, and renew exactly the same offers to my sweet
Agnes, if she has the least wish for what I supposed you wished.
Nay, I owe still more to her; for I think she left Italy more
unwillingly than you did, and gratitude to either is the only
circumstance that can add to my affection for either.  I can
swallow my objections to trying my nephew as easily for her as
for you; but, having had two days and a half for thinking the
whole case over, I have no sort of doubt but the whole
establishment must be completely settled by this time; or that,
at most, if any, places are not fixed yet, It must be from the
strength and variety of contending interests: and, besides, the
new Princess will have fewer of each class of attendants than a
queen; and I shall not be surprised if there should already be a
brouillerie between the two courts about some or many of the
nominations: and though the interest I thought of trying was the
only one I could pitch upon, I do not, on reflection, suppose
that a person just favoured has favour enough already to
recommend others.  Hereafter that may be better: and (" still
more feasible method, I think, would be to obtain a promise
against a vacancy; which, at this great open moment nobody will
think of asking, when the present is so uppermost in their minds:
and now my head is cool, perhaps I could strike out more
channels, should your sister be so inclined.  But of that we will
talk when we meet.

Thursday.

I have received the second letter that I expected, and it makes
me quite happy on all the points that disquieted me; on the
court, on the tempest, and I hope on privateers, as you have so
little time to stay on Ararat, and the winds that terrify me for
you, will, I trust, be as formidable to them.  Above, all, I
rejoice at your approaching return; on which I would not say a
syllable seriously, not only because I would have you please
yourselves, but that you may profit as much as possible by change
of air.  I retract all my mistake; and though, perhaps, I may
have floundered on with regard to A., still I have not time to
correct or write any part of it over again.  Besides, every word
was the truth of my heart; and why should not you see what is or
was in it? Adieu!

(891) This alludes to a wish he supposed Miss Berry to have had
for a nomination in the household of Caroline Princess of Wales,
then forming.-M.B.

(892) Lord Cholmondeley, then residing in the Isle of Thanet.



Letter 417To The Miss Berrys.
October 17, 1794. (page 563)

I had not the least doubt of Mr. Barrett's showing you the
greatest attention: he is a most worthy man, and has a most
sincere friendship for me, and I was sure would mark to any
persons that I love.  I do not guess what your criticisms on his
library will be: I do not think we shall agree in them; for to me
it is the most perfect thing I ever saw, and has the most the air
it was intended to have--that of an abbot's library, supposing it
could have been so exquisitely finished three hundred years ago.
But I am sorry he will not force Mr. Wyat to place the Mabeuse
over the chimney; which is the sole defect, as not distinguished
enough for the principal feature of the room. My closet is as
perfect in its way as the library; and it would be difficult to
suspect that it had not been a remnant of the ancient convent,
only newly painted and gilt.  My cabinet, nay, nor house, convey
any conception; every true Goth must perceive that they are more
the works of fancy than of imitation.

I believe the less that our opinions will coincide, as you speak
so slightingly of the situation of Lee, which I admire.  What a
pretty circumstance is the little river! and so far from the
position being insipid, to me it has a tranquil cheerfulness that
harmonizes with the house, and seems to have been the judicious
selection of a wealthy abbot, who avoided ostentation, but did
not choose austere gloomth.  I do not say that Lee is as gay as a
watering-place upon a naked beach.  I am very glad, and much
obliged to you for having consented to pass the night at Lee.  I
am sure it made Mr. Barrett very happy.  I shall let him know how
pleased you was; and I too, for his attentions to you.

The mass of politics is so inauspicious, that if I tapped it, I
should not finish my letter for the post, and my reflections
would not contribute to your amusement; which I should be sorry
to interrupt, and -which I beg you to pursue as long as it is
agreeable to you.  It is satisfaction enough to me to know you
are happy; and it is my study to make you so, as far as my little
power can extend: and, as I promised you on your Condescension in
leaving Italy at my prayer, I will never object to whatever you
like to do, and will accept, and Wait with patience for, any
moments you will bestow on your devoted Orford.



Letter 418 To The Rev. William Beloe.(893)
Strawberry Hill, Dec. 2, 1794. (page 564)

I do beg and beseech you, good Sir, to forgive me, if I cannot
possibly consent to receive the dedication you are so kind and
partial as to propose to me.  I have in the most positive, and
almost uncivil manner, refused a dedication or two lately.
Compliments on virtues which the persons addressed, like me,
seldom possessed, are happily exploded and laughed out of use.
Next to being ashamed of having good qualities bestowed on me to
which I should have no title, it would hurt to be praised on my
erudition, which is most superficial; and on my trifling
writings, all of which turn on most trifling subjects.  They
amused me while writing them; may have amused a few persons; but
have nothing solid enough to preserve them from being forgotten
with other things of as light a nature.  I Would not have your
judgment called in question hereafter, if somebody reading your
Aulus Gellius should ask, "What were those writings of Lord O.
which Mr. Beloe so much commends?  Was Lord O. more than one of
the mob of gentlemen who wrote with ease?"  Into that class I
must sink; and I had rather do so imperceptibly, than to be
plunged down to it by the interposition of the hand of a friend,
who could not gainsay the sentence.

For your own sake, my good Sir, as well as in pity to my
feelings, who am sore at your offering what I cannot accept,
restrain the address to a mere inscription.  You are allowed to
be an excellent translator of classic authors; how unclassic
would a dedication in the old-fashioned manner appear! If you had
published a new edition of Herodotus or Aulus Gellius, would you
have ventured to prefix a Greek or Latin dedication to some
modern lord with a Gothic title'! Still less, had those addresses
been in vogue at Rome,.  would any Roman author have inscribed
his work to Marcus, the incompetent son of Cicero, and told the
unfortunate offspring of so great a man, Of his high birth and
declension of ambition? which would have excited a laugh on poor
Marcus, who, whatever may have been said of him, had more sense
than to leave proofs to the public of his extreme inferiority to
his father.

(893) Rector of Allhallows, London Wall, prebendary of Pancras in
St. Paul's cathedral, and prebendary of Lincoln.  In 1791, be
published a translation of Herodotus, and in 1795, the
translation of the "Attic Nights of Aulus Gellius," referred to
in the above letter.  He was also the author of " Anecdotes of
Literature and Scarce Books," in six volumes octavo; and after
his death, which took place in 1817, appeared "The Sexagenarian,
or Recollections of a Literary Life;" which, though a posthumous
publication, was printed under his inspection.-E.



Letter 419 To Miss Hannah More.
Berkeley Square, Saturday night, Jan. 24, 1795. (page 565)

My best Madam,
I will never more complain of your silence; for I am perfectly
convinced that you have no idle, no unemployed moments.  Your
indefatigable benevolence is incessantly occupied in good works;
and your head and your heart make the utmost use of the excellent
qualities of both.  You have given proofs of the talents of one,
and you certainly do not wrap the still more precious talent of
the other in a napkin.  Thank you a thousand times for your most
ingenious plan; may great success reward you!  I sent one
instantly to the Duchess of Gloucester, whose piety and zeal
imitate yours at a distance: but she says she cannot afford to
subscribe just at this severe moment, when the poor so much want
her assistance, but she will on the thaw, and should have been
flattered by receiving a plan from yourself.  I sent another to
Lord Harcourt, who, I trust, will show it to a much greater lady;
and I repeated some of the facts you told me of the foul fiends,
and their anti-More activity.  I sent to Mr. White for half a
dozen more of your plans, and will distribute them wherever I
have hopes of their taking root and blossoming.  To-morrow I will
send him my subscription;(894) and I flatter myself you will not
think it a breach of Sunday, nor will I make this long, that I
may not widen that fracture.  Good night!  How calm and
comfortable must your slumbers be on the pillow of every day's
good deeds!

Monday.

Yesterday was as dark as midnight.  Oh! that it may be the
darkest day in all respects that we shall see!  But these are
themes too voluminous and dismal for a letter, and which your
zeal tells me you feel too intensely for me to increase, when you
are doing all in your power to counteract them.  One of my
grievances is, that the sanguinary inhumanity Of the times has
almost poisoned one's compassion, and makes one abhor so many
thousands of our own species, and rejoice when they suffer for
their crimes.  I could feel no pity on reading the account of the
death of Condorcet (if true, though I doubt it).  He was one of
the greatest monsters exhibited by history; and is said to have
poisoned himself from famine and fear of the guillotine; and
would be a new instance of what I suggested to you for a tract,
to show, that though we must not assume a pretension to judging
of divine judgments, yet we may believe that the economy of
Providence has so disposed causes and consequences, that such
villains as Danton, Robespierre, the Duke of Orleans, etc. etc.
etc.  do but dig pits for themselves.  I will check myself, or I
shall wander into the sad events of the last five years, down to
the rage of party that has sacrificed Holland!  What a fund for
reflection and prophetic apprehension! May we have as much wisdom
and courage to stem our malevolent enemies, as it is plain, to
our lasting honour, we have had charity to the French emigrants,
and have bounty for the poor who are suffering in this dreadful
season!

Adieu! thou excellent woman! thou reverse of that hyena in
petticoats, Mrs. Wolstoncroft, who to this day discharges her ink
and gall on Marie Antoinette, whose unparalleled sufferings have
not Yet stanched that Alecto's blazing ferocity.  Adieu! adieu!
Yours from my heart.

P. S. I have subscribed five guineas at Mr. White's to your plan.

(894) To the fund for promoting the printing and dispersion of
the works sold at the Cheap Repository.



Letter 420 To Miss Hannah More.
Berkeley Square, Feb. 13, 1795. (page 566)

I received your letter and packet of lays and virelays, and
heartily wish they may fall in bad ground, and produce a hundred
thousand fold, as I doubt is necessary.  How I admire the
activity of your zeal and perseverance! Should a new church ever
be built, I hope in a side chapel there will be an altar
dedicated to St. Hannah, Virgin and Martyr; and that Your pen,
worn to the bone, will be enclosed in a golden reliquaire, and
preserved on the shrine.

These few words I have been forced to dictate, having had the
gout ill my right hand above this fortnight; but I trust it is
going off The Duchess was much pleased with your writing to her,
and ordered me to thank you.  Your friend Lady Waldegrave is in
town, and looks very well.  Adieu, best of women! Yours most
cordially.(895)

(895) In a letter to her sister, dated from Fulham Palace, Miss
More says,--"Lord Orford has presented me with Bishop Wilson's
edition of the Bible, in three volumes quarto, superbly bound in
morocco (Oh! that he would himself study that blessed book), to
which, in the following most flattering inscription, he
attributes my having done far more good than is true--

"To his excellent friend, MISS HANNAH MORE, THE BOOK,
which he knows to be the dearest object of her study, and by
which, to the great comfort and relief
of numberless afflicted and distressed individuals,
she has profited beyond any person with whom he is acquainted, is
offered, as a mark of his esteem and gratitude, by her sincere
and obliged humble servant, Horace, Earl of Orford, 1795."



Letter 421 To William Roscoe, Esq.
Berkeley Square, April 4, 1795. (page 567)

To judge of my satisfaction and gratitude on receiving the very
acceptable present of your book,(896) Sir, you should have known
my extreme impatience for it from the instant Mr. Edwards had
kindly favoured me with the first chapters.  You may consequently
conceive the mortification I felt at not being able to thank you
immediately both for the volume and the obliging letter that
accompanied it, by my right arm and hand being swelled and
rendered quite immovable and useless, of which you will perceive
the remains if you can read these lines which I am forcing myself
to write, not without pain, the first moment I have power to hold
'a pen; and it will cost me some time, I believe, before I can
finish my whole letter, earnest as I am, Sir, to give a loose to
my gratitude.

If you ever had the pleasure of reading such a delightful book as
your own, imagine, Sir, what a comfort it must be to receive such
an anodyne in the midst of a fit of the gout that has already
lasted above nine weeks, and which at first I thought might carry
me to Lorenzo de' Medici before he should come to me.

The complete volume has more than answered the expectations which
the sample had raised.  The Grecian simplicity of the style is
preserved throughout; the same judicious candour reigns in every
page; and without allowing yourself that liberty of indulging
your own bias towards good or against criminal characters, which
over-rigid critics prohibit, your artful candour compels your
readers to think with you, without seeming to take a part
yourself.  You have shown from his own virtues, abilities, and
heroic spirit, why Lorenzo deserved to have Mr. Roscoe for his
biographer.  And since you have been so, Sir, (for he was not
completely known before, at least out of Italy,) I shall be
extremely mistaken if he is not henceforth allowed to be, in
various lights, one of the most excellent and greatest men with
whom we are well acquainted, especially if we reflect on the
shortness of his life and the narrow sphere in which he had to
act.  Perhaps I ought to blame my own ignorance, that I did not
know Lorenzo as a beautiful poet: I confess I did not.  Now I do,
I own I admire some of his sonnets more than several-yes, even of
Petrarch; for Lorenzo's are frequently more clear, less
alembiquis, and not inharmonious as Petrarch's often are from
being too crowded with words, for which room is made by numerous
elisions, which prevent the softening alternacy of vowels and
consonants.  That thicket of words was occasioned by the
embarrassing nature of the sonnet: a form of composition I do not
love, and which is almost intolerable in any language but
Italian, which furnishes such a profusion of rhymes.  To our
tongue the sonnet is mortal, and the parent of insipidity.  The
Mutation in some degree of it was extremely noxious to a true
poet, our Spenser; and he was the more injudicious by lengthening
his stanza in a language so barren of rhymes as ours, and in
which several words, whose terminations are of similar sounds,
are so rugged, uncouth, and unmusical.  The consequence was, that
many lines which he forced into the service to complete the quota
of his stanza are unmeaning, or silly, or tending to weaken the
thought he would express.

Well, Sir: but if you have led me to admire the compositions of
Lorenzo, you have made me intimate with another poet, of whom I
had never heard nor had the least suspicion; and who, though
writing in a less harmonious language than Italian, outshines an
able master of that country, as may be estimated by the fairest
of all comparisons -which is, when one of each nation versifies
the same ideas and thoughts.  That novel poet I boldly pronounce
is Mr. Roscoe.  Several of his translations of' Lorenzo are
superior to the originals, and the verses more poetic; nor am I
bribed to give this opinion by the present of your book, nor by
any partiality, nor by the surprise of finding so pure a writer
of history as able a poet.  Some good judges to whom I have shown
your translations entirely agree with me.  I will name one most
competent judge, Mr. Hoole, so admirable a poet himself, and such
a critic in Italian, as he has proved by a translation of
Ariosto.  That I am not flattering you, Sir, I will demonstrate;
for I am not satisfied with one essential line in your version of
the most beautiful, I think, of all Lorenzo's stanzas.  It is his
description of Jealousy, in page 268, equal, in my humble
opinion, to Dryden's delineations of the Passions, and the last
line of which is--

Mai dorme, ed ostinata, a se sol crede.

The thought to me is quite new, and your translation I own does
not come up to it.  Mr. Hoole and I hammered at it, but could not
content ourselves.  Perhaps by altering your last couplet you may
enclose the whole sense, and make it equal to the preceding six.

I will not ask your pardon, Sir, for taking so much liberty with
you.  You have displayed so much candour and are so free from
pretensions, that I am confident you will allow that truth is the
sole ingredient that ought to compose deserved incense; and if
ever commendation was sincere, no praise ever flowed with purer
veracity than all I have said in this letter does from the heart
of, Sir, your infinitely obliged humble servant.

(896) His History of the Life of Lorenzo de' Medici.



Letter 422 To The Hon. H. S. Conway.
Strawberry Hill, July 2, 1795. (page 569)

I will write a word to you, though scarce time to write one, to
thank you for your great kindness about the soldier, who shall
get a substitute if he can.  As you are, or have been in town,
your daughter will have told you in what a bustle I am,
preparing--not to resist, but, to receive an invasion of
royalties to-morrow; and cannot even escape them like Admiral
Cornwallis, though seeming to make a semblance; for I am to wear
a sword, and have appointed two aides-de-camp, My nephews, George
and Horace Churchill.  If I fall, as ten to one but I do, to be
sure it will be a superb tumble, at the feet of a Queen and eight
daughters of Kings; for, besides the six Princesses, I am to have
the Duchess of York and the Princess of Orange! Wo is me, at
seventy-eight, and with scarce a hand and foot to my back! Adieu!
Yours, etc.  A poor old remnant.



Letter 423 To The Hon. H. S. Conway.
Strawberry Hill, July 7, 1795. (page 569)

I am not dead of fatigue with my royal visitors, as I expected to
be, though I was on my poor lame feet three whole hours.  Your
daughter, who kindly assisted me in doing the honours, will tell
you the particulars, and how prosperously I succeeded.  The Queen
was uncommonly condescending and gracious, and deigned to drink
my health when I presented her with the last glass, and to thank
me for all my attentions.  Indeed my memory de la vieille cour
was but once in default.  As I had been assured that her Majesty
would be attended by her chamberlain, yet was not, I had no glove
ready when I received her at the step of her coach: yet she
honoured me with her hand to lead her up stairs; nor did I
recollect my omission when I led her down again.  Still, though
gloveless, I (fid not squeeze the royal hand, as Vice-chamberlain
Smith did to Queen Mary.(897)

You will have stared, as I did, at the Elector of Hanover
deserting his ally the King of Great Britain, and making peace
with the monsters.  But Mr. Fawkener, whom I saw at my sister's
on Sunday, laughs at the article in the newspapers, and says it
is not an unknown practice for stock-jobbers to have an emissary
at the rate of five hundred pounds, and despatch to Frankfort,
whence he brings forged attestations of some marvellous political
event, and spreads it on 'Change, which produces such a
fluctuation in the stocks as amply overpays the expense of his
mission.

This was all I learnt in the single night I was In town.  I have
not read the new French constitution, which seems longer than
probably its reign will be.  The five sovereigns will, I suppose,
be the first guillotined.  Adieu! Yours ever.

(897) It is said that Queen Mary asked some of her attendant
ladies what a squeeze of the hand was supposed to intimate.  They
said "Love."  "Then," said the Queen, "my Vice-chamberlain must
be violently in love with me, for he always squeezes my hand."



Letter 424 To Miss Berry.
Strawberry Hill, Tuesday, Aug. 16, 1796. (page 570)

Though I this morning received your Sunday's full letter, it is
three o'clock before I have a moment to begin answering it; and
must do it myself: for Kirgate is not at home.  First came in Mr.
Barrett, and then Cosway, who has been for some days at Mr.
Udney's, with his wife: she is so afflicted for her only little
girl, that she shut herself up in her chamber, and would not be
seen.(898)  The man Cosway does not seem to think that much of
the loss belonged to him: he romanced with his usual vivacity.
Next arrived Dr. Burney, on his way to Mrs. Boscawen.  He asked
me about deplorable "Camilla." Alas! I had not recovered of it
enough to be loud in its praise.  I am glad, however, to hear
that she has realized about two thousand pounds; and the worth,
no doubt, of as much in honours at Windsor; where she was
detained three days, and where even M. D'Arblay was allowed to
dine.

I rejoice at your bathing promising so well.  If the beautiful
fugitive(899) from Brighthelmstone dips too, the waves will be
still more salutary:--

Venus, orta mari, mare prestat eunti.

I like your going to survey castles and houses: it is wholesomer
than drawing and writing tomes of letters;--which, you see, I
cannot do.

Wednesday, after breakfast.

When I came home from Lady Mendip's last night, I attempted to
finish this myself; but my poor fingers were so tired by all the
work of the day, that it will require Sir William Jones's gift of
tongues to interpret my pot-hooks.  One would think Arabic
characters were catching; for Agnes had shown me a volume of
their poems, finely printed at Cambridge, with a version which
Mrs. Douglas had lent to her, and said they were very simple, and
not in the inflated style of the last.  You shall judge: in the
first page I opened, I found a storm of lightning that had burst
into a laugh.  I resume the thread of my letter.  You had not
examined Arundel Castle enough; for you do not mention the noble
monuments, in alabaster, of the Fitz-Alans, one of whom bragged
of having married Adeliza, widow of Henry the First.  In good
sooth, they were somewhat defaced by Cromwell having mounted his
cannon on the roof to batter the Castle; of which, when I saw it,
he had left little but ruins; and they were choked up by a vile
modern brick house, which I know Solomon has pulled down: for he
came hither two years ago to consult me about Gothicizing his
restoration of the castle.  I recommended Mr. Wyat, lest he
should copy the temple of Jerusalem.

So you found a picture of your predecessor!(900)  She had had a
good figure: but I had rather it had been a portrait of her aunt,
Mrs. Arabella Fermor, the heroine of the Lock, of whom I never
saw a resemblance.  You did not, I suppose, see the giant, who,
the old Duke told me, used to walk among the ruins, but who, to
be sure, Duke Solomon(901) has laid in a Red Sea of claret.
There are other splendid seats to be seen within your reach; as
Petworth, and Standstead, and Up-Park: but I know why I guess
that you may even be of parties, more than once, at the last.

As Agnes says, she has promised I should give you an account of a
visit I have lately had, I will, if I have time, before any body
comes in.  It was from a Mr. Pentycross, a clergyman and
schoolmaster of Wallingford, of whom I had heard nothing for
eight-and-twenty years; and then having only known him as a
Blue-coat boy from Kingston: and how that happened, he gave me
this account last week.  He was born with a poetic impetus, and
walked over hither with a copy of verses by no means despicable,
which he begged old Margaret to bring up to me.  She refused; he
supplicated.  At last she told him that her master was very
learned, and that, if he would write something in the learned
languages, especially in French, she would present his poem to
me.  In the mean time, she yielded; I saw him, and let her show
him the house.  I think he sent me an ode or two afterwards, and
I never heard his name again till this winter, when I received a
letter from him from his place' of residence, with high
compliments on some of my editions, and beseeching me to give him
a print of myself, which I did send to him.  In the Christmas
holidays he came to town for a few days, and called in
Berkeley-square; but it was when I was too ill to see any body.
He then left a modest and humble letter, only begging that, some
time or other, I would give him leave to see Strawberry Hill.  I
sent him a note by Kirgate, that should he come to town in
summer, and I should be well enough, he should certainly see my
house.  Accordingly, about a fortnight ago, I let him know, that
if he could fix any day in this month, I would give him a dinner
and a bed.  He jumped at the offer, named Wednesday last, and
came.  However, I considered that to pass a whole day with this
unknown being might be rather too much.  I got Lysons, the
parson, from Putney, to meet him: but it would not have been
necessary, for I found my Blue-coat boy grown to be a very
sensible, rational, learned, and remaining a most modest
personage, with an excellent taste for poetry-for he is an
enthusiast for Dr. Darwin: but, alas! infinitely too learned for
me; for in the evening, upon questioning him about his own vein
of poetry, he humbly drew out a paper, with proposition
forty-seven of Euclid turned into Latin verse.  I shrunk back and
cried, "Oh! dear Sir, how little you know me! I have forgotten
almost the little Latin I knew, and was always so incapable of
learning mathematics, that I could not even get by heart the
multiplication-table, as blind Professor Sanderson honestly told
me, above threescore years ago, when I went to his lectures at
Cambridge." After the first fortnight, he said to Me, "Young man,
it would be cheating you to take your money; for you can never
learn what I am trying to teach you."  I was exceedingly
mortified, and cried; for, being a prime minister's son, I had
firmly believed all the flattery with which I had been assured
that my parts were capable of any thing.  I paid a private
instructor for a year; but, at the year's end, was forced to own
Sanderson had been in the right; and here luckily ends, with my
paper, my Penticrusade!

(898) The loss of her only child threw Mrs. Cosway upon art once
more.  To mitigate her grief, she painted several large Pictures
for chapels; and afterwards visited Italy, where she formed a
college at Lodi for the education of young ladies.  On the
establishment of peace, she returned to England, where she
remained till the death of her husband in 1821; after which she
returned to Lodi.-E.

(899) The Countess of Jersey, mother to the present Earl.

(900) A portrait of Trefusis, Countess of Orford, widow of the
eldest brother of Horace Walpole, Earl of Orford.

(901) Charles Howard, eleventh Duke of Norfolk, so called by Lord
Orford, for having his portrait executed in painted glass for the
window of his great dining-room, at Arundel Castle, as Solomon
entertaining the Queen of Sheba.



Letter 425 To Miss Berry.
Strawberry Hill, August 24, 1796. (page 572)

Bathe on, bathe on, and wash away all your complaints; the sea
air and such an oriental season must cure every thing but
positive decay and decrepitude.  On me they have no more effect
than they would have on an Egyptian queen who has been embowelled
and reserved in her sycamore etui ever since dying was first
invented, and people notwithstanding liked to last for ever,
though even in a pyramid.  In short, Mr. -- has teased me so much
about jumbling my relics, that I have aired(902) them every
morning in the coach for this fortnight; and yet, you see, I
cannot write ten lines together!  Lady Cecilia lets me call on
her at twelve, and take her with me: and yet I grew tired of it,
and shall not have patience to continue, but shall remain, I
believe, in my mummyhood.  I begin by giving myself a holiday
to-day, in order to answer your letter of the 21st; while Lady
Waldegrave, who is with me, and who has brought her eldest son,
whom, poor soul! she cannot yet bear to call Lord Waldegrave, is
gone to the pavilion.  Here is a letter for you from Hannah More,
unsealed indeed, for chiefly a mon intention.  Be so good as to
tell her how little I am really recovered but that I will hammer
out a few words as fast, that is, as slowly as I can to her, in
return.

I am scandalized at the slovenly neglect of the brave chapel of
the Fitz-Alans.(903)  I thought the longer any peer's genealogy
had been spun out, the prouder he was of the most ancient
coronets in it; but since Solomon despises the Arundels for not
having been dukes, I suppose he does not acknowledge Adam for a
relation; who, though he had a tolerably numerous progeny, his
grace does not allow to have been the patriarch of the Mowbrays
and Howards, as the devil did not make Eve a duchess, though he
has made the wives of some other folks so, and may propose to
make one more so some time or other.

News I have none; but that Wurmsur seems to have put a little
spoke into the wheel of the French triumphal car in Italy: and as
those banditti have deigned to smile on the Duke of Wirtemberg, I
suppose they mean to postpone imposing a heavy contribution on
him till he shall have received the fortune of the Princess
Royal.  Adieu!

(902) The remainder of this letter is in the handwriting of
Kirgate.

(903) In Arundel church.  It has since been put in a state of
repair by the present Duke of Norfolk.



Letter 426 To Miss Hannah More.
Strawberry Hill, August 29, 1796. (page 573)

You are not only the most beneficent, but the most benevolent of
human beings.  Not content with being a perfect saint yourself,
which (forgive me for saying) does not always imply prodigious
compassion for others; not satisfied with being the most
disinterested, nay, the reverse of all patriots, for you
sacrifice your very slender fortune, not to improve it, but to
keep the poor honest instead of corrupting them; and you write
politics as simply, intelligibly, and unartfolly, not as
cunningly as you can to mislead.  Well, with all these giant
virtues, you can find room and time in your heart and occupations
for harbouring and exercising what those monkeys of pretensions,
the French, invented and called les petites morales, which were
to supply society with filigrain duties, in the room of all
virtues, which they abolished on their road to the adoption of
philosophy and atheism.  Yes, though for ever busied in
exercising services and charities for individuals, or for whole
bodies of people, you do not leave a cranny empty into which you
can slip a kindness.  Your inquiry after me to Miss Berry is so
friendly, that I cannot trust solely to her thanking you for your
letter, as I am sure she will, having sent it to her as she is
bathing in the sea at Bognor Rocks; but I must with infinite
gratitude give you
a brief account of myself-a very poor one indeed must I give.
Condemned as a cripple to my couch for the rest of my days I
doubt I am.  Though perfectly healed, and even without a sear, my
leg is so weakened that I have not recovered the least use of it,
nor can move cross my chamber unless lifted up and held by two
servants.  This constitutes me totally a prisoner.  But why
should not I be so? What business had I to live to the brink of
seventy-nine?  And why should One litter the world at that age?
Then, I thank God, I have vast blessings; I have preserved my
eyes, ears, and teeth; I have no pain left; and I would bet with
any dormouse that it cannot outsleep me.  And when one can afford
to pay for every relief, comfort, or assistance that can be
procured at fourscore, dares one complain?  Must not one reflect
on the thousands of old poor, who are suffering martyrdom, and
have none of these alleviations? my good friend, I must consider
myself as at my best; for if' I drag on a little longer, can I
expect to remain even so tolerably.  Nay, does the world present
a pleasing scene?  Are not the devils escaped out of the swine,
and overrunning the earth headlong?  What a theme for meditation,
that the excellent humane Louis Seize should have been prevented
from saving himself by that monster Drouet, and that that
execrable wretch should be saved even by those, some of whom one
may suppose he meditated to massacre; for at what does a
Frenchman stop?  But I will quit this shocking subject, and for
another reason too: I omitted one of my losses, almost the use of
my fingers: they are so lame that I cannot write a dozen lines
legibly, but am forced to have recourse to my secretary.  I will
only reply by a word or two to a question you seem to ask; how I
like "Camilla?"  I do not care to say how little.  Alas! she has
reversed experience, which I have long', thought reverses its own
utility by coming at the wrong end of our life when we do not
want it.  This author knew the world and penetrated characters
before she had stepped over the threshold; and, now she has seen
so much of it, she has little or no insight at all perhaps she
apprehended having seen too much, and kept the bags of foul air
that she brought from the Cave of Tempests too closely tied.

Adieu, thou who mightest be one of the cleverest of women if thou
didst not prefer being one of the best! And when I say one of the
best, I have not engaged my vote for the second.  Yours most
gratefully.



Letter 427 To Richard Gough, Esq.
Berkeley Square, Dec. 5, 1796. (page 574)

Dear Sir,
Being struck with the extreme cold of last week, it has brought a
violent gouty inflammation into one of my legs, and I was forced
to be instantly brought to town very ill.  As soon as I was a
little recovered, I found here your most magnificent present of
the second volume of Sepulchral Monuments, the most splendid work
I ever saw, and which I congratulate myself on having lived long
enough to see.  Indeed, I congratulate my country on its
appearance exactly at so illustrious a moment, when the
patriotism and zeal of London have exhibited so astonishing marks
of their opulence and attachment to the constitution, by a
voluntary subscription of seventeen millions of money in three
days.  Your book, Sir, appearing, at that very instant, will be a
monument of a fact so unexampled in history; the treasure of fine
prints with which it is stowed, well becomes such a production
and such a work, the expense of which becomes it too.  I am
impatient to be able to sit up and examine it more, and am sure
my gratitude will increase in proportion.  As soon as I shall
receive the complete sheets, I will have the whole work bound in
the most superb manner that can be: and though, being so infirm
now, and just entered into my eightieth year, I am not likely to
wait on you, and thank you, I shall be happy to have an
opportunity, whenever you come this way, of telling you in person
how much I am charmed with so splendid a monument of British
glories, and which will be so proud an ornament to the libraries
of any nation.



Letter 428 To Miss Berry.
Thursday, December 15, past noon, 1796. (page 575)

I had no account of you at all yesterday, but in Mrs. Damer's
letter, which was rather better than the preceding; nor have I
had any letter before post to-day, as you promised me in hers.  I
had, indeed, a humorous letter from a puss that is about your
house,(904) which is more comfortable; as I think she would not
have written cheerfully if you had not been in a good way.  I
would answer it, but I am grown a dull old Tabby, and have no
"Quips and cranks and wanton wiles" left; but I shall be glad to
see her when she follows you to town, which I earnestly hope will
not pass Saturday.  My horses will be with you on Friday night.

The House of Commons sat till half an hour after three this
morning, on Mr. Pitt's loan to the Emperor; when it was approved
by a majority of above two hundred.  Mr. Fox was more temperate
than was expected; Mr. Grey did not speak; Mr. Sheridan was very
entertaining: several were convinced and voted for Mr. Pitt, who
had gone down determined against it.  The Prince came to town
t'other day ill, was blooded twice, but has now a strong eruption
upon his skin, which will probably be of great service to him.
Sir Charles Blagden has been with the Duchess of Devonshire, and
found her much better than he expected.  Her look is little
altered: she suffers but little, and finds herself benefited by
being electrified.

I have received a compliment to-day very little expected by a
superannuated old Etonian.  Two tickets from the gentlemen of
Westminster School, for their play on Monday next.  I excused
myself as civilly and respectfully as I could, on my utter
impossibility of attending them.  Adieu! I hope this will be the
last letter I shall write before I See you.(905)

(904) This was written by Miss Salon, in the name of a kitten at
Little Strawberry Hill, with whose gambols Lord Orford had been
much amused.-M.B.

(905) Very soon after the date of the above letter, the gout, the
attacks of which were every day becoming more frequent and
longer, made those with whom Lord Orford was living at strawberry
Hill very anxious that he should remove to Berkeley Square, to be
nearer assistance, in case of any sudden seizure.  As his
correspondents, soon after his removal, were likewise established
in London, no more letters passed between them.  When not
immediately suffering from pain, his mind was tranquil and
cheerful.  He was still capable of being amused.  and of taking
some part in conversation: but, during the last weeks of his
life, when fever was superadded to his other ills, his mind
became subject to the cruel hallucination of supposing himself
neglected and abandoned by the only persons to whom his memory
clung, and whom he desired always to see.  In vain they recalled
to his recollection how recently they had left him, and how short
had been their absence: it satisfied him for the moment, but the
same idea recurred as soon as he had lost sight of them.  At
last, nature sinking under the exhaustion of weakness,
obliterated all ideas but those of mere existence, which ended,
without a struggle, on the 2d of March 1797.-M.B.



Letter 429 To The Countess Of Ossory.
January 13, 1797. (page 576)

You distress me infinitely by showing my idle notes, which I
cannot conceive can amuse any body. My old-fashioned breeding
impels me every now and then to reply to the letters you honour
me with writing; but in    truth very unwillingly, for I seldom
can have any thing particular to say. I scarce go out of my own
house, and then only to two or three very private places, where I
see nobody that really know's    any thing; apd. what I learn
comes from newspapers, that collect   intelligence from
coffee-houses--consequently, what I neither believe    nor
report. At home I see only a few charitable elders, except
about fourscore nephews and nieces of various ages, who are each
brought to me once a year, to stare at me as the Methusalem of
the family; and they can only speak of their own contemporaries,
which interest no more than if they talked of their dolls, or
bats and balls. Must not the result of all this, Madam, make me a
very entertaining correspondent? and can such letters be worth
showing? or can I have any spirit when so old, and reduced to
dictate?  Oh! my good Madam, dispense with me from such a task,
and think how it must add to it to apprehend such letters being
shown. Pray send Me no more Such laurels, which I desire no more
than their leaves when decked with a scrap of tinsel, and stuck
on twelfth-cakes that lie on the shop boards of pastrycooks at
Christmas.                  I shall be quite content with a sprig
of rosemary thrown after me, when the parson of the parish
commits my dust to dust. Till then, pray, Madam, accept the
resignation of your ancient servant, Orford.



                                 THE END.