Chapter XV: Part 15

I am glad you have got my Lord of Cork.(530) He is, I know, a very worthy man, and though not a bright man, nor a man of the world, much less a good author, yet it must be comfortable to you now and then to see something besides travelling children, booby governors, and abandoned women of quality. You say, you have made my Lord Cork give up my Lord Bolingbroke: it is comical to see how he is given up here, since the best of his writings, his metaphysical divinity, have been published. While he betrayed and abused every man who trusted him, or who had forgiven him, or to whom he was obliged, he was a hero, a patriot, and a philosopher; and the greatest genius of the age: the moment his Craftsmen against Moses and St. Paul, etc. were published, we have discovered that he was the worst man and the worst writer in the world. The grand jury have presented his works, and as long as there are any parsons, he will be ranked with Tindal and Toland--nay, I don't know whether my father won't become a rubric martyr, for having been persecuted by him. Mr. Fraigneau's story of the late King's design of removing my father and employing, Bolingbroke, is not new to me; but I can give you two reasons, and one very strong indeed, that convince me of its having no foundation, though it is much believed here. During the last year of the late King's life, he took extremely to New Park, and loved to shoot there, and dined with my father and a private party, and a good deal of punch. The Duchess of Kendal, who hated Sir Robert, and favoured Bolingbroke, and was jealous for herself, grew uneasy at these parties, and used to put one or two of the Germans upon the King to prevent his drinking, (very odd preventives!)- -however, they obeyed orders so well, that one day the King flew into a great passion, and reprimanded them in his own language with extreme warmth; and when he went to Hanover, ordered my father to have the new lodge in the park finished against his return; which did not look much like an intention of breaking with the ranger of the Park. But what I am now going to tell you is conclusive: the Duchess obtained an interview for Bolingbroke in the King's closet, which not succeeding, as lord Bolingbroke foresaw it might not at once, he left a memorial with the King, who, the very next time he saw Sir Robert, gave it to him.

You will expect that I should mention the progress of the West Indian war; but the Parliamentary campaign opening so warmly, has quite put the Ohio upon an obsolete foot. All I know is, that the Virginians have disbanded all their troops and say they will trust to England for their defence. The dissensions in Ireland increase. At least, here are various and ample fields for speeches, if we are to have new oppositions. You will believe that I have not great faith in the prospect, when I can come quietly hither for two or three days to place the books in my new library. Mr. Chute is with me, and returns you all your kind speeches with increase. Your two brothers, who dine at lord Radnor's, have just been here, and found me writing to you: your brother Gal. would not stay a moment, but said, , Tell him I prefer his pleasure to my own." I wish, my dear Sir, I could give you much more, that is, could tell you more; but unless our civil wars continue, I shall know nothing but of contested elections: a first session of a Parliament is the most laborious scene of dulness that I know. Adieu!

(527) Mr. Legge.

(528) Mr. Murray; he was preferred to be attorney-general this year, in the room of Sir Dudley Ryder, who was made lord chief justice, on the death of Sir William Lee.

(529) "At this time," says Lord Waldegrave, "Fox had joined Pitt in a kind of parliamentary opposition. They were both in office,--the one paymaster, the other secretary at war,-and therefore could not decently obstruct the public business; but still they might attack persons, though not things. Pitt undertook the difficult task of silencing Murray, the attorney-general, the ablest man, as well as the ablest debater, in the House of Commons; whilst Fox entertained himself with the less dangerous amusement of exposing Sir Thomas Robinson, or rather assisted him whilst he turned himself into ridicule; for Sir Thomas, though a good secretary of state -is far as the business of his office, was ignorant even of the language of the House of Commons controversy; and when he played the orator, it was so exceedingly ridiculous, that those who loved and esteemcd him could not always preserve a friendly composure of countenance." Memoirs, 1). 31.-E.

(530) John Earl of Orrery and Cork, author of a translation of Pliny's Epistles, a Life of Dr. Swift, etc.

230 Letter 118 To Richard Bentley, Esq. Arlington Street, Friday, Dec. 13, 1754.

"If we do not make this effort to recover our dignity, we shall only sit here to register the arbitrary edicts of one too powerful a subject." Non riconosci tu Faltero viso? Don't you at once know the style? Shake those words all altogether-, and see if they can be any thing but the disiecta membra of Pitt? In short, about a fortnight ago, bomb burst. Pitt, who is well, is married, is dissatisfied--not With his bride, but with the Duke of Newcastle; has twice thundered out his dissatisfaction in Parliament, and was seconded by Fox. The event was exactly what I dare say you have already foreseen. Pitt was to be turned out; overtures were made to Fox; Pitt is not turned out: Fox is quieted with the dignity of cabinet-counsellor, and the Duke of Newcastle remains affronted--and omnipotent. The commentary on this text is too long for a letter; it may be developed some time or other. This scene has produced a diverting interlude; Sir George Lyttelton, who could not reconcile his content with Mr. Pitt's discontents, has been very ill with the cousinhood. In the grief of his heart, he thought of resigning his place, but somehow or other stumbled upon a negotiation for introducing the Duke of Bedford into the ministry again, to balance the loss of Mr. Pitt. Whatever persuaded him, he thought this treaty so sure of success that he lost no time to be the agent of it himself; and whether commissioned or noncommissioned, as both he and the Duke of Newcastle say, he carried carte blanche, to the Duke of Bedford, who bounced like a rocket, frightened away poor Sir George, and sent for Mr. Pitt to notify the overture. Pitt and the Grenvilles are outrageous; the Duke of Newcastle disclaims his ambassador, and every body laughs. Sir George came hither yesterday, to expectorate with me, as he called it. Think how I pricked up my ears, as high as King Midas, to hear a Lyttelton vent his grievances against a Pitt and Grenvilles! Lord Temple has named Sir George the apostolic nuncio; and George Selwyn says, "that he will certainly be invited by Miss Ashe among the foreign ministers." These are greater storms than perhaps you expected yet; they have occasioned mighty bustle, and whisper, and speculation; but you see

Pulveris exigui jactu composta quiescunt.

You will be diverted with a collateral incident. * * * * met Dick Edgecumbe, and asked him with great importance, if he knew whether Mr. Pitt was out. Edgecumbe, who thinks nothing important that is not to be decided by dice, and who, consequently, had never once thought of Pitt's political state, replied, "Yes." "Ay! how do you know?" "Why, I called at his door just now, and his porter told me so." Another political event is, that Lord E. comes into place: he is to succeed Lord Fitzwalter, who is to have Lord Grantham's pension, -who is dead immensely rich: I think this is the last of the old Opposition, of any name, except Sir John Barnard. If you have curiosity about the Ohio, you must write to ]France: there I believe they know something about it; here it was totally forgot till last night, when an express arrived with an account of the loss of one of the transports off Falmouth, with eight officers and sixty men on board.

My Lady Townshend has been dying, and was wofully frightened, and took prayers; but she is recovered now, even of her repentance. You will not be undiverted to hear that the mob of Sudbury have literally sent a card to the mob of Bury, to offer their assistance at a contested election there: I hope to be able to tell you in my next, that Mrs. Holman(531) has sent cards to both mobs for her assembly.

The shrubs shall be sent, but you must stay till the holidays; I shall not have time to go to Strawberry sooner. I have received your second letter, dated November 22d, about the Gothic paper. I hope you will by this time have got mine, to dissuade you from that thought. If you insist upon it, I will send the paper: I have told you what I think, and will therefore say no more on that head; but I will transcribe a passage which I found t'other day in Petronius, and thought not unapplicable to you: "Omnium herbarum succos Democritus expressit; et ne lapidum virgultorumque vis lateret, aetatem inter experimenta consumpsit." I hope Democritus could not draw charmingly when he threw away his time in extracting tints from flints and twigs!

I can't conclude my letter without telling you what an escape I had at the sale of Dr. Mead's library, which goes extremely dear. In the catalogue I saw Winstanley's views of Audley-inn, which I concluded was, as it really was, a thin, dirty folio, worth about fifteen shillings. As I thought it might be scarce, it might run to two or three guineas. however, I bid Graham certainly buy it for me. He came the next morning in a great fright, said he did not know whether he had done very right or very wrong, that he had gone as far as nine-and-forty guineas--I started in such a fright! Another bookseller had luckily had as unlimited a commission, and bid fifty--when my Graham begged it might be adjourned, till they could consult their principals. I think I shall never give an unbounded commission again, even for views of Les Rochers!(532) Adieu! Am I ever to see any more of your hand-drawing? Adieu! Yours ever.

(531) The lady of whom the anecdote is told p. 65, ant`e, letter 22.-E.

(532) Madame de S`evign`e's seat in Bretagne.

231 Letter 119 To Richard Bentley, Esq. Strawberry Hill, Dec. 24, 1754. '

My dear Sir, I received your packet of December 6th last night, but intending to come hither for a few days, and unluckily sent away by the coach in the morning a parcel of things for you; you must therefore wait till another bundle sets out, for the new letters of Madame S`evign`e. Heaven forbid that I should have said they were bad! I only meant that they were full of family details, and mortal distempers, to which the most immortal of us are subject: and I was sorry that the profane should ever know that my divinity was ever troubled with a sore leg, or the want of money; though, indeed, the latter defeats Bussy@s ill natured accusation of avarice; and her tearing herself from her daughter, then at Paris, to go and save money in Bretagne to pay her debts, is a perfection of virtue which completes her amiable character. My lady Hervey has made me most happy, by bringing me from Paris an admirable copy of the very portrait that was Madame de Simiane's: I am going to build an altar for it, under the title of Notre Dame des Rochers!

Well! but you will want to know the contents of the parcel that is set out. It Contains another parcel, which contains I don't know what; but Mr. Cumberland sent it, and desired I would transmit it to you. There arc Ray's Proverbs, in two volumes interleaved; a few seeds, mislaid when I sent the last; a very indifferent new tragedy, called "Barbarossa,"(533) now running; the author(534) unknown, but believed to be Garrick himself. There is not one word of Barbarossa's real story, but almost the individual history of Merope; not one new thought, and, which is the next material want, but one line of perfect nonsense;

"And rain down transports in the shape of sorrow."

To complete it, the manners are so ill observed, that a Mahometan princess royal is at full liberty to visit her lover in Newgate, like the banker's daughter in George Barnwell. I have added four more "Worlds,"(535) the second of which will, I think, redeem my lord Chesterfield's character with you for wit, except in the two stories, which are very flat: I mean those of two misspelt letters. In the last "World,"(536) besides the hand, you will find a story of your acquaintance: BoncoEur means Norborne Berkeley, whose horse sinking up to his middle in Woburn park, he would not allow that it was any thing more than a little damp. The last story of a highwayman happened almost literally to Mrs. Cavendish.

For news, I think I have none to tell you. Mr. Pitt is gone to the Bath, and Mr. Fox to Newcastle House; and every body else into the country for the holidays. When Lord Bath was told of the first determination of turning out Pitt, and letting Fox remain, he said it put him in mind of a story of the gunpowder plot. The Lord Chamberlain was sent to examine the vaults under the Parliament-house, and, returning with his report, said he had found five-and-twenty barrels of gunpowder; that he had removed ten of them, and hoped the other fifteen would do no harm. Was ever any thing so well and so just?

The Russian ambassador is to give a masquerade for the birth of the little great prince;(537) the King lends him Somerset House: he wanted to borrow the palace over against me, and sent to ask it of the cardinal-nephew (538) who replied, "Not for half Russia."

The new madness is Oratorys. Macklin has set up one, under the title of The British Inquisition;(539) Foote another against him; and a third man has advertised another to-day. I have not heard enough in their favour to tempt me to them, nor do I in the world know enough to compose another paragraph. I am here quite alone; Mr. Chute is setting out for his Vine; but in a day or two I expect Mr. Williams,(540) George Selwyn, and Dick Edgecumbe. You will allow that when I do admit any body within my cloister, I choose them well. My present occupation is putting up my books; and thanks to arches and pinnacles, and pierced columns, I shall not appear scantily provided. Adieu!

(533) The tragedy of "Barbarossa" met with some success, principally from the advantages it appeared under, by the performance of Garrick and Mossop, in the parts of Achmet and Barbarossa. Garrick also supplied the prologue and epilogue,. It being mentioned to Dr. Johnson, that Garrick assisted the author in the composition of this tragedy, "No, Sir," said the Doctor, "Browne would no more suffer Garrick to write a line in his play than he would suffer him to mount his pulpit."-E.

(534) The author was the ingenious but unhappy Dr. John Browne, who was also author of the "Essays on Satire," occasioned by the death of Pope, and the celebrated "Estimate of the Manners and Principles of the Times." He had the misfortune to labour under a constitutional dejection of spirits; and in September 1766, in an interval of deprivation of reason, put a period to his existence, in his fifty-first year.-E.

(535) No. 92, Reflections on the Drinking Club; No. 98, On the Italian Opera; No. 100, On Dr. Johnson's Dictionary; and No. 101, Humorous Observations on the English Language; by Lord Chesterfield.-E.

(536) No. 103, On Politeness; and the Politeness of Highwaymen.-E.

(537) The Czar Paul the first.

(538) Henry Earl of Lincoln, nephew to the Duke of Newcastle, to whose title he succeeded.

(539) The British Inquisition was opened in 1754, by a public ordinary, where every person was permitted, for three shillings a-head, to drink port, or claret, or whatever liquor he should choose. This was succeeded by a lecture on oratory. The plan did not succeed; for while Macklin was engaged in drilling his waiters, or fitting himself for the rostrum, his waiters, in return, were robbing him in all directions; so that, in the February of this year, he was declared a bankrupt, under the designation of a vintner.-E.

(540) George James Williams, Esq. son of the eminent lawyer, William Peere Williams.-E.

233 Letter 120 To George Montagu, Esq. Arlington Street, Jan. 7, 1755.

I imagined by your letter the Colonel was in town, and was shocked at not having been to wait on him; upon inquiry, I find he is not; and now, can conceive how he came to tell you, that the town has been entertained with a paper of mine; I send it you, to show you that this is one of the many fabulous histories which have been spread in such quantities, and without foundation.

I shall take care of your letter to Mr. Bentley. Mr. Chute is at the Vine, or I know he would, as I do, beg his compliments to Miss Montagu. You do not wish me joy on the approaching nuptials of Mr. Harris and our Miss Anne. He is so amorous, that whenever he sits by her, (and he cannot stand by her,) my Lady Townshend, by a very happy expression, says, "he is always setting his dress." Have you heard of a Countess Chamfelt, a Bohemian, rich and hideous, who is arrived here, and is under the protection of Lady Caroline Petersham @ She has a great facility at languages, and has already learned, "D--n you, and kiss me;" I beg her pardon, I believe she never uses the former, but upon the miscarriage of the latter: in short, as Doddington says, she has had the honour of performing at most courts in Europe. Adieu!

234 letter 121 To Richard Bentley, Esq. Arlington Street, Jan. 9, 1755.

I used to say that one could not go out of London for two days without finding at one's return that something very extraordinary had happened; but of late the climate had lost its propensity to odd accidents. Madness be praised, we are a little restored to the want of our senses! I have been twice this Christmas at Strawberry Hill for a few days, and at each return have been not a little surprised: the last time, at the very unexpected death of Lord Albemarle,(541) who was taken ill at Paris, going home from supper, and expired in a few hours; and last week at the far more extraordinary death of Montford.(542) He himself, with all his judgment in bets, I think would have betted any man in England against himself for self-murder: yet after having been supposed the sharpest genius of his time, he, by all that appears, shot himself on the distress of his circumstances; an apoplectic disposition I believe concurring, either to lower his spirits, or to alarm them. Ever since Miss * * * * lived with him, either from liking her himself, as some think, or to tempt her to marry his lilliputian figure, he has squandered vast sums at Horse- heath, and in living. He lost twelve hundred a-year by Lord Albemarle's death, and four by Lord Gage's, the same day. He asked immediately for the government of Virginia or the Foxhounds, and pressed for an answer with an eagerness that surprised the Duke of Newcastle, who never had a notion of pinning down the relief of his own or any other man's wants to a day. Yet that seems to have been the case of Montford, who determined to throw the die of life and death, Tuesday was Se'nnight, on the answer he was to receive from court; which did not prove favourable. He consulted indirectly, and at last pretty directly several people on the easiest method of finishing life; and seems to have thought that he had been too explicit; for he invited company to dinner for the day after his death, and ordered a supper at Whites, where he Supped, too, the night before. He played at whist till one in the morning; it was New Year's morning - Lord Robert Bertie drank to him a happy new year; he clapped his hands strangely to his eyes! In the morning he had a lawyer and three witnesses, and executed his will, which he made them read twice over, paragraph by paragraph: and then asking the lawyer if that will would stand good, though a man were to shoot himself? and being assured it would; he said, " Pray stay while I step into the next room;"=-went into the next room and shot himself. He clapped the pistol so close to his head, that they heard no report. The housekeeper heard him fall, and, thinking he had a fit, ran up with drops, and found his skull and brains shot about the room You will be charmed with the friendship and generosity of Sir Francis. Montford a little time since opened his circumstances to him. Sir Francis said, "Montford, if it will be of any service to you, you shall see what I have done for you;" pulled out his will, and read it, where he had left him a vast legacy. The beauty of this action is heightened by Sir Francis's life not being worth a year's purchase. I own I feel for the distress this man must have felt, before he decided on so desperate an action. I knew him but little; but he was good-natured and agreeable enough, and had the most compendious understanding I ever knew. He had affected a finesse in money matters beyond what he deserved, and aimed at reducing even natural affections to a kind of calculations, like Demoivre's. He was asked, soon after his daughter's marriage, if she was with child: he replied, "upon my word, I don't know; I have no bet upon it." This and poor * * * *'s self-murder have brought to light another, which happening in France, had been sunk; * * * *'s. I can tell you that the ancient and worshipful company- of lovers are under a great dilemma, upon a husband and a gamester killing themselves: I don't know whether they will not apply to Parliament for an exclusive charter for self-murder.

On the occasion of Montford's story, I heard another more extraordinary. If a man insures his life, this killing himself vacates the bargain; This (as in England almost every thing begets a contradiction) has produced an office for insuring in spite of self-murder; but not beyond three hundred pounds. I suppose voluntary deaths were not the bon-ton. of people in higher life. A man went and insured his life, securing this privilege of a free-dying Englishman. He carried the insurers to dine at a tavern, where they met several other persons. After dinner he said to the life--and-death brokers, "Gentlemen, it is fit that you should be acquainted with the company: these honest men are tradesmen, to whom I was in debt, without any means of paying, but by your assistance; and now I am your humble servant!" He pulled out a pistol and shot himself. Did you ever hear of such a mixture of honesty and knavery?

Lord Rochford is to succeed as groom of the stole. The Duke of Marlborough is privy-seal, in the room of Lord Gower, who is dead; and the Duke of Rutland is lord steward. Lord Albemarle's other offices and honours are still in petto. When the king first saw this Lord Albemarle, he said, "Your father had a great many good qualities, but he was a sieve!"- -It is 'the last receiver into which I should have thought his Majesty would have poured gold! You will be pleased with the monarch's politesse. Sir John Bland and Offley made interest to play at Twelfth-night, and succeeded--not at play, for they lost 1400 pounds and 1300 pounds. As it is not usual for people of no higher rank to play, the King thought they would be bashful about it, and took particular care to do the honours of his house to them, set only to them, and spoke to them at his levee next morning.

You love new nostrums and ]Inventions: there is discovered a method of inoculating the cattle for the distemper-it succeeds so well that they are not even marked. How we advance rapidly in discoveries, and in applying every thing to every thing! Here is another secret, that will better answer your purpose, and I hope mine too. They found out lately at the Duke of Argyle's, that any kind of ink may be made of privet: it becomes green ink by mixing salt of tartar. I don't know the process; but I am promised it by Campbell, who told me of it t'other day, when I carried him the true genealogy of the Bentleys, which he assured me shall be inserted in the next edition of the Biographia.

There sets out to-morrow morning, by the Southampton wagon, such a cargo of trees for you, that a detachment of Kentishmen would be furnished against an invasion if they were to unroll the bundle. I write to Mr. S * * * * to recommend great care of them. Observe how I answer your demands: are you as punctual? The forests in your landscapes do not thrive like those in' your letters. Here is a letter from G. Montagu; and then I think I may bid you good-night!

(541) In his "Memoires," Vol. i. p. 366, Walpole says, "He died suddenly at Paris, where his mistress had sold him to the French court." A writer in the Quarterly Review, Vol Ixii. p. 5, states that what he here asserts was generally believed in Paris; for that, in the "M`emoires Secrets," published in continuation of Bachaumont's Journal, it is said, on occasion of the Count d'Herouville's death in 1782, that " he had been talked of for the ministry under Louis XV. and would probably have obtained it, had it not been for 'son mariage trop in`egal. Il avait `epous`e la fameuse Lolotte maitresse du Comte d'Albemarle, l'ambassadeur d'Angleterre, laquelle servait d'espion au minist`ere de France aupr`es de son amant, et a touch`e en cons`equence jusqu'`a sa mort une pension de la cour de 12,000 livres.' But if the French court purchased, as he reports, and as is sufficiently probable, instructions of our ambassador, they could have learned from them nothing to facilitate their own schemes of aggression--nothing but what they knew before; for the policy of England, defective as it might be on other points, had this great and paramount advantage,-that it was open, honest, and straightforward."-E.

(542) Henry Bromley, created Lord Montford of Horse-heath, in 1741. He married Frances, daughter of Thomas Wyndham, Esq. and sister and heiress of Sir Francis Wyndham, of Trent, in the county of Somerset.-E.

236 Letter 122 To Sir Horace Mann. Arlington Street, Jan. 9, 1755.

I had an intention of deferring writing to you, my dear Sir, till I could wish you joy on the completion of your approaching dignity:(543) but as the Duke of Newcastle is not quite so expeditious as my friendship is earnest; and as your brother tells me that you have had some very unnecessary qualms, from your silence to me on this chapter, I can no longer avoid telling you how pleased I am with any accession of distinction to you and your family; I should like nothing better but an accession of appointments: but I shall say no more on this head, where wishes are so barren as mine. Your brother, who had not time to write by this post, desires me to tell you that the Duke will be obliged to you, if you will send him the new map of Rome and of the patrimony of St. Peter, which his Royal Highness says is just published.

You will have heard long before you receive this, of Lord Albemarle's(544) sudden death at Paris: every body is so sorry for him!--without being so: yet as sorry as he would have been for any body, or as he deserved. Can one really regret a man, who, with the most meritorious wife(545) and sons(546) in the world, and with near 15,000 pounds a year from the government, leaves not a shilling to his family, lawful or illegitimate, (and both very numerous,) but dies immensely in debt, though, when he married, he had 90,000 pounds, in the funds, and my Lady Albemarle brought him 25,000 pounds more, all which is dissipated to 14,000 pounds! The King very handsomely, and tired with having done so much for a man who had so little pretensions to it, immediately gave my Lady Albemarle 1200 pounds a year pension, and I trust will take care of this Lord, who is a great friend of mine, and what is much better for him, the first favourite of the Duke. If I were as grave an historian as my Lord Clarendon, I should now without any scruple tell you a dream; you would either believe it from my dignity of character, or conclude from my dignity of character that I did not believe it myself. As neither of these important evasions will serve my turn, I shall relate the following, only prefacing, that I do believe the dream happened, and happened right among the millions of dreams that do not hit. Lord Bury was at Windsor with the Duke when the express of his father's death arrived: he came to town time enough to find his mother and sisters at breakfast. "Lord! child," said my Lady Albemarle, "what brings you to town so early?" He said he had been sent for. Says she "You are not well!" "Yes," replied Lord Bury, "I am, but a little flustered with something I have heard." "Let me feel your pulse," said Lady Albemarle: "Oh!" continued she, "your father is dead!" "Lord Madam," said Lord Bury, "how could that come into your head? I should rather have imagined that you would have thought it was my poor brother William" (who is just gone to Lisbon for his health). "No," said my Lady Albemarle, "I know it is your father; I dreamed last night that he was dead, and came to take leave of me!" and immediately swooned.

Lord Albemarle's places are not yet given away: ambassador at Paris, I suppose, there will be none; it was merely kept up to gratify him-besides, when we have no minister we can deliver no memorials. Lord Rochford is, I quite believe, to be groom of the stole: that leaves your Turin open--besides such trifles as a blue garter, the second troop of Guards, and the government of Virginia.

A death much more extraordinary is that of my Lord Mountford, who, having all his life aimed at the character of a moneyed man, and of an artfully money-getting man, has shot himself, on having ruined himself. If he had despised money, he could not have shot himself with more deliberate resolution. The Only points he seems to have considered in so mad an action, were, not to be thought mad, and which would be the easiest method of despatching Himself. It is strange that the passage from life to death should be an object, when One is unhappy enough to be determined to change one for the other.

I warned you in my last not to wonder if you should hear that either Mr. Pitt or Mr. Fox had kissed hands for secretary of state; the latter has kissed the secretary of State's hand for being a cabinet councillor.(547) The more I see, the more I am confirmed in my idea of this being the age of abortions.

I have received yours of December 13th, and find myself obliged to my Lord of Cork for a remembrance of me, which I could not expect he should have preserved. Lord Huntingdon I know very well, and like very much: he has parts, great good breeding, and will certainly make a figure. You are lucky in such company; yet I wish you had Mr. Brand!

I need not desire you not to believe the stories of such a mountebank as Taylor:(548) I only wonder that he should think the names of our family a recommendation at Rome; we are not conscious of any such merit: nor have any Of our eyes ever wanted to be put out. Adieu! my dear Sir, my dear Sir Horace.

(543) Mr. Mann was on the ]5th of February created a baronet, with a reversion to his brother Galfridus.-E.

(544) For an interesting account of this magnificent spendthrift, see M`emoires de Marmontel.-D.

(545) Lady Anne Lenox, sister of Charles Duke of Richmond.

(546) George Lord Viscount Bury, lord of the bedchamber to the Duke, and colonel of a regiment; Augustus, captain of a man-of-war, who was with Lord Anson in his famous expedition; and William, colonel of the Guards, and aide-de-camp to the Duke,; the two other sons were very young.

(547) "I proposed an interview between Fox and the Duke of Newcastle, which produced the following agreement-that Fox should be called up to the cabinet council; that employments should be given to some of his friends, who were not yet provided for; and that others, who had places already, should be removed to bigger stations. Fox, during the whole negotiation, behaved like a man of sense and a man of honour; very frank, very explicit, and not very unreasonable." Waldegrave's Memoirs.-E.

(548) A quack oculist. [Generally called the Chevalier Taylor. He published his travels in 1762; in which he styled himself "Ophthalmiator Pontifical, Imperial, Royal," etc.]

238 Letter 123 To Richard Bentley, Esq. Arlington Street, Feb. 8, 1755.

My dear sir, By the wagon on Thursday there set out for Southampton a lady whom you must call Phillis, but whom George Montagu and the Gods would name Speckle-belly. Peter begged her for me; that is, for you; that is, for Captain Dumaresque, after he had been asked three guineas for another. I hope she will not be poisoned with salt-water, like the poor Poyangers.(549) If she should, you will at least observe, that your commissions are not stillborn with me, as mine are with you. I draw(550) a spotted dog, the moment you desire it.

George Montagu has intercepted the description I promised you of the Russian masquerade: he wrote to beg it, and I cannot transcribe from myself. In a few words, there were all the beauties, and all the diamonds, and not a few of the uglies of London. The Duke,(551) like Osman the Third, seemed in the centre of his new seraglio, and I believe my lady and I thought that my Lord Anson was the chief eunuch. My Lady Coventry was dressed in a great style, and looked better than ever. Lady Betty Spencer, like Rubens's wife (not the common one with the hat), had all the bloom and bashfulness and wildness of youth, with all the countenance of all the former Marlboroughs. Lord Delawar was an excellent mask, from a picture at Kensington of Queen Elizabeth's porter. Lady Caroline Petersham, powdered with diamonds and crescents for a Turkish slave, was still extremely handsome. The hazard was excessively deep, to the astonishment of some Frenchmen of quality who are here, and who I believe, from what they saw that night, will not write to their court to dissuade their armaments, on its not being worth their while to attack so beggarly a nation. Our fleet is as little despicable; but though the preparations on both sides are so great, I believe the storm will blow over. They insist on our immediately sending an ambassador to Paris; and to my great satisfaction, my cousin and friend Lord Hertford is to be the man. This is still an entire secret here, but will be known before you receive this. The weather is very bitter, and keeps me from Strawberry. Adieu!

(549) Mr. Walpole having called his gold-fish pond Poyang, calls the gold-fish Poyangers.

(550) Alluding to Mr. Bentley's dilatoriness in exercising his pencil at the request of Mr. Walpole.

(551) William Duke of Cumberland.

239 Letter 124 To Richard Bentley, Esq. Arlington Street, Feb. 23, 1755.

My dear sir, Your argosie is arrived safe; thank you for shells, trees, cones; but above all, thank you for the landscape. As it is your first attempt in oils, and has succeeded so much beyond my expectation, (and being against my advice too, you may believe the sincerity of my praises,) I must indulge my Vasarihood, and write a dissertation upon it. You have united and mellowed your colours, in a manner to make it look like an old picture; yet there is something in the tone of it that is not quite right. Mr. Chute thinks that you should have exerted more of your force in tipping with light the edges on which the sun breaks: my own opinion is, that the result of the whole is not natural, by your having joined a Claude Lorrain summer sky to a winter sea, which you have drawn from the life. The water breaks fine] but the distant hills are too strong, and the outlines much too hard ..The greatest fault is the trees (not apt to be your stumbling-block): they are not of a natural green, have no particular resemblance, and are out of all proportion too large for the figures. Mend these errors, and work away in oil. I am impatient to see some Gothic ruins of your painting. This leads me naturally to thank you for the sweet little cul-de-lampe to the entail it is equal to any thing you have done in perspective and for taste but the boy is too large.

For the block of granite I shall certainly think a louis well bestowed--provided I do but get the block, and that you are sure it will be equal to the sample you sent me. My room remains in want of a table; and as it will take so much time to polish it, I do wish you would be a little expeditious in sending it.

I have but frippery news to tell you; no politics; for the rudiments of a war, that is not to be a war, are not worth detailing. In short, we have acted with spirit, have got ready thirty ships of the line, and conclude that the French will not care to examine whether they are well manned or not. The House of Commons hears nothing but elections; the Oxfordshire till seven at night three times a week: we have passed ten evenings on the Colchester election, and last Monday sat upon it till near two in the morning. Whoever stands a contested election, and pays for his seat, and attends the first session, surely buys the other six very dear!

The great event is the catastrophe of Sir John Bland(552) who has flirted away his whole fortune at hazard. He t'other night exceeded what was lost by the late Duke of Bedford, having at one period of the night (though he recovered the greatest part of it) lost two-and-thirty thousand pounds. The citizens put on their double-channeled pumps and trudge to St. James's Street, in expectation of seeing judgments executed on White's--angels with flaming swords, and devils flying away with dice-boxes, like the prints in Sadeler's Hermits. Sir John lost this immense sum to a Captain * @ * * *, who at present has nothing but a few debts and his commission.

Garrick has produced a detestable English opera, which is crowded by all true lovers of their country. To mark the opposition to Italian operas, it is sung by some cast singers, two Italians, and a French girl, and the chapel boys; and to regale us with sense, it is Shakspeare's Midsummer Night's Dream, which is forty times more nonsensical than the worst translation of any Italian opera-books. But such sense and such harmony are irresistible!

I am at present confined with a cold, which I caught by going to a fire in the middle of the night, and in the middle of the snow, two days ago. About five in the morning Harry waked me with a candle in his hand, and cried, "Pray, your honour, don't be frightened!"--"No, Harry, I am not: but what is it that I am not to be frightened at?" --"There is a great fire here in St. James's Street."--I rose, and indeed thought all St. James's Street was on fire, but it proved in Bury Street. However, you know I can't resist going to a fire; for it Is certainly the only horrid sight that is fine. I slipped on my slippers, and an embroidered suit that hung on the chair, and ran to Bury Street, and stepped into a pipe that was broken up for water.--It would have made a picture--the horror of the flames, the snow, the day breaking with difficulty through so foul a night, and my figure, party per pale, mud and gold. It put me in mind of Lady Margaret Herbert's providence, who asked somebody for a pretty pattern for a nightcap. "Lord!" said they, "what signifies the pattern for a nightcap?" "Oh! child," said she, "but you know, in case of fire." There were two houses burnt, and a poor maid; an officer jumped out of window, and is much hurt, and two young beauties were conveyed out the same way in their shifts. there have been two more great fires. Alderman Belchier's house at Epsom, that belonged to the Prince, is burnt, and Beckford's fine house(553) in the country, with pictures and furniture to a great value. He says, "Oh! I have an odd fifty thousand pounds in a drawer: I will build it up again: it won't be above a thousand pounds apiece difference to my thirty children." Adieu!

(552) Who shot himself at Kippax Park.-E.

(553) At Fonthill, in Wiltshire. The loss was computed at thirty thousand pounds.-E.

241 letter 125 To Richard Bentley, Esq. Arlington Street, March 6, 1755.

My dear sir, I have to thank you for two letters and a picture. I hope my thanks will have a more prosperous journey than my own letters have had of late. You say you have received none since January 9th. I have written three since that. I take care, in conjunction with the times, to make them harmless enough for the post. Whatever secrets I may have (and you know I have no propensity to mystery) will keep very well till I have the happiness of seeing you, though that date should be farther off than I hope. As I mean my letters should relieve some of your anxious or dull minutes, I will tempt no postmasters or secretaries to retard them. The state of affairs is much altered since my last epistle that persuaded you of the distance of a war. So haughty and so ravenous an answer came from France, that my Lord Hertford does not go. As a little islander, you may be very easy: Jersey is not prey for such fleets as are likely to encounter in the channel in April. You must tremble in your Bigendian capacity, if you mean to figure as a good citizen. I sympathize with you extremely in the interruption it will give to our correspondence. You, in an inactive little spot, cannot wish more impatiently for every post that has the probability of a letter, than I, in all the turbulence of London, do constantly, never-failingly, for letters from you. Yet by my busy, hurried, amused, irregular way of life, you would not imagine that I had much time to care for my friends@ You know how late I used to rise: it is worse and worse: I stay late at debates and committees; for, with all our tranquillity and my indifference, I think I am never out of the House of Commons: from thence, it is the fashion of the winter to go to vast assemblies, which are followed by vast suppers, and those by balls. Last week I was from two at noon till ten at night at the House: I came home, dined, new-dressed myself entirely, went to a ball at Lord Holderness's, and stayed till five in the morning. What an abominable young creature! But why may not I be so! Old Haslang(554) dances at sixty-five; my Lady Rochford without stays, and her husband the new groom of the stole, dance. In short, when secretaries of state, cabinet councillors, foreign ministers, dance like the universal ballet in the Rehearsal, why should not I--see them? In short, the true definition of me is, that I am a dancing senator--Not that I do dance, or do any thing by being a senator: but I go to balls, and to the House of Commons-to look on: and you will believe me when I tell you, that I really think the former the more serious occupation of the two; at least the performers are most in earnest. What men say to women, is at least as sincere as what they say to their country. If perjury can give the devil a right to the souls of men, he has titles by as many ways as my Lord Huntingdon is descended from Edward the Third.

(554) Count de Haslang, many years minister from Bavaria to the British court.-E.

242 Letter 126 To Sir Horace Mann. Arlington Street, March 10, 1755.

having already wished you joy of your chivalry, I would not send you a formal congratulation on the actual despatch of your patent: I had nothing new to tell you: forms between you and me would be new indeed.

You have heard of the nomination of my friend and relation, Lord Hertford,(555) to the embassy of Paris: you will by this time have learned or perceived, that he is not likely to go thither. They have sent demands too haughty to be admitted, and we are preparing a fleet to tell them we think so. In short, the prospect is very warlike. The ministry are so desirous of avoiding it, that they make no preparations on land--will that prevent it?--Their partisans d-n the plantations, and ask if we are to involve ourselves in a war for them? Will that question weigh with planters and West Indians? I do not love to put our trust in a fleet only: however, we do not touch upon the Pretender; the late rebellion suppressed is a comfortable ingredient, at least, in a new war. You know I call this the age of abortions: who knows but the egg of this war may be addled?

Elections, very warm in their progress, very insignificant in their consequence, very tedious in their attendance, employ the Parliament solely. The King wants to go abroad, and consequently to have the Houses prorogued: the Oxfordshire election says no to him: the war says no to him: the town say we shall sit till June. Balls, masquerades, and diversions don't trouble their heads about the Parliament or the war: the righteous, who hate pleasures and love prophecies, (the most unpleasant things in the world, except their completion,) are finding out parallels between London and Nineveh, and other goodly cities of old, who went to operas and ridottos when the French were at their gates--yet, if Arlington Street were ten times more like to the most fashionable street in Tyre or Sidon, it should not alarm me: I took all my fears out in the rebellion: I was frightened enough then; I will never have another panic. I would not indeed be so pedantic as to sit in St. James's market in an armed chair to receive the French, because the Roman consuls received the Gauls in the forum. They shall be in Southwark before I pack up a single miniature.

The Duke of Dorset goes no more to Ireland: Lord Hartington is to be sent thither with the olive branch. Lord Rochford is groom of the stole; Lord Poulet has resigned the bedchamber on that preference, and my nephew and Lord Essex are to be lords of the bedchamber. It is supposed that the Duke of Rutland will be master of the horse, and the Dorset again lord steward. But all this will come to you as very antique news, if a whisper that your brother has heard to-day be true, of your having taken a trip to Rome. If you are there when you receive this, pray make my Lady Pomfret's(556) compliments to the statues in the Capitol, and inform them that she has purchased her late lord's collection of statues, and presented them to the University of Oxford. The present Earl, her son, is grown a speaker in the House of Lords, and makes comparisons between Julius Caesar and the watchmen of Bristol, in the same style as he compared himself to Cerberus, who, when he had one head cut off three others sprang up in its room. I shall go to-morrow to Dr. Mead's sale, and ruin myself in bronzes and vases--but I will not give them to the University of Oxford. Adieu! my dear Sir Knight.

(555) Francis Seymour Conway, Earl of Hertford; his mother was sister to Lady Walpole.

(556) Henrietta Louisa, Countess-dowager of pomfret, having quarrelled with her eldest son, who was ruined and forced to sell the furniture of his seat at Easton Neston, bought his statues, which had been part of the Arundelian collection, and had been purchased by his grandfather.

243 Letter 127 To Richard Bentley, Esq. Arlington Street, March 27, 1755.

Your chimney(557) is come, but not to honour: the caryatides are fine and free, but the rest is heavy: Lord Strafford is not at all struck with it, and thinks it old-fashioned: it certainly tastes of Inigo Jones.

Your myrtles I have seen in their pots, and they are magnificent, but I fear very sickly. In return, I send you a library. You will receive, some time or other, or the French for you, the following books: a fourth volume of Dodsley's Collection Of Poems, the worst tome of the four; three volumes of Worlds; Fielding's Travels, or rather an account how his dropsy was treated and teased by an inn-keeper's wife in the Isle of Wight; the new Letters of Madame de S`evign`e, and Hume's History of Great Britain; a book which, though more decried than ever book was, and certainly with faults, I cannot help liking much. It is called Jacobite, but in my opinion is only not George-abite: where others abuse the Stuarts, he laughs at them: I am sure he does not spare their ministers. Harding,(558) who has the History of England at the ends of his parliament fingers, says, that the Journals will contradict most of his facts. If it is so, I am sorry; for his style, which is the best we have in history, and his manner imitated from Voltaire, are very pleasing. He has showed very clearly that we ought to quarrel originally with Queen Elizabeth's tyranny for most of the errors of Charles the First. As long as he is Willing to sacrifice some royal head, I would not much dispute with him which it should be. I incline every day to lenity, as I see more and more that it is being very partial to think worse of some men than of others. If I was a king myself, I dare say I should cease to love a republic. My Lady Rochford desired me t'other day to give her a motto for a ruby ring, which had been given by a handsome woman of quality to a fine man; he gave it to his mistress, she to Lord * * * * *, he to my lady: who, I think, does not deny that it has not yet finished its travels. I excused myself for some time, on the difficulty of reducing such a history to a poesy--at last I proposed this:

"This was given by woman to man, and by man to woman."