Chapter II: Part 2

If I had more paper or time, I could tell you an excellent long history of my brother Ned'S(18) envy, which was always up at highwater-mark, but since the publication of my book of Houghton (one should have thought a very harmless performance), has overflowed on a thousand ridiculous occasions. Another great object of his jealousy is my friendship with Mr. Fox: my brother made him a formal visit at nine o'clock the other morning, and in a set speech of three quarters of an hour, begged his pardon for not attending the last day of the Mutiny bill, which, he said was so particularly brought in by him, though Mr. Fox assured him that he had no farther hand in it than from his office. Another instance: when my brother went to live at Frogmore, Mr. Fox desired him to employ his tradesmen at Windsor, by way of supporting his interest in that borough. My brother immediately went to the Duke of St. Albans, to whom he had never spoke, (nor indeed was his acquaintance with Mr. Fox much greater), and notified to him, that if seven years hence his grace should have any contest with Mr. Fox about that borough, he should certainly espouse the latter. Guess how the Duke stared at so strange and unnecessary a declaration!

Pigwiggin's Princess has mis-pigged, to the great joy, I believe, of that family, for you know a child must have eaten. Adieu!

(11) It was entitled, A bill for amending, explaining, and reducing into one act, the laws relating to the Navy. "it was," says Sir John Barrow, "a most desirable and highly useful measure. The principal and , indeed, the only novelties attempted to be introduced, were, first, that of subjecting half pay officers to courts-martial, which after much opposition was thrown out; the second was the administration of an oath of secrecy to the members, which was carried, and continues to the present time." See Life of Lord Anson, p. 218.--E.

(12) The Hon. Edward Boscawen, third son of Hugh, first Viscount Falmouth. He was a distinguished naval commander, and had a large share in the success of Lord Anson's engagement with the French fleet off Cape Finisterre in 1747. He died in 1761.-D.

(13) The Dukes of Bedford and Newcastle.-D.

(14) Eldest son of Lord Barnard, and afterwards first Earl of Darlington. he died in 1758.-E.

(15) Theodore, King of Corsica.-D.

(16) Their story is briefly this: A Moorish king, who had entertained with great hospitality a British captain trafficking on the coast of Africa, reposed such confidence in him, as to intrust him with his son, about eighteen years of age, and another sprightly youth, to be brought to England and educated in the European manners. The captain received them, and basely sold them for slaves. He shortly after died; and, the ship coming to England, the officers related the whole affair: upon which the government sent to pay their ransom, and they were brought to England and put under the care of the Earl of Halifax, then at the head of the board of trade, who had them clothed and educated in a suitable manner. They were afterwards received in the higher circles, and introduced to the King. On the first of February in this year, they appeared at the Covent-Garden theatre, to see the tragedy of Oroonok; where they were received with a loud clap of applause, which they returned with a genteel bow. The tender interview between Imoinda and Oroonoko so affected the Prince, that he was obliged to retire at the end of the fourth act. His companion remained, but wept all the time so bitterly that it affected the audience more than the play.-E.

(17) General Oglethorpe was the great promoter of the colony of Georgia. See vol. i.-E.

(18) Sir Edward Walpole, K. B.-D.

19 Letter 3 To Sir Horace Mann. Strawberry Hill, May 3, 1749.

I am come hither for a few days, to repose myself after a torrent of diversions, and am writing to you in my charming bow-window with a tranquillity and satisfaction which, I fear, I am grown old enough to prefer to the hurry of amusements, in which the whole world has lived for this last week. We have at last celebrated the peace, and that as much in extremes as we generally do everything, whether we have reason to be glad or sorry, pleased or angry. Last Tuesday it was proclaimed: the King did not go to St. Paul's, but at night the whole town was illuminated. The next day was what was called "a jubilee-masquerade in the Venetian manner" at Ranelagh: it had nothing Venetian in it, but was by far the best understood and the prettiest spectacle I ever saw: nothing in a fairy tale ever surpassed it. One of the proprietors, who is a German, and belongs to court, had got my Lady Yarmouth to persuade the King to order it. It began at three o'clock, and, about five, people of fashion began to go. When you entered, you found the whole garden filled with masks and spread with tents, which remained all night very commodely. In one quarter was a May-pole dressed with garlands, and people dancing round it to a tabor and pipe and rustic music, all masqued,'as were all the various bands of music that were disposed in different parts of the garden; some like huntsmen with French-horns, some like peasants, with a troop of harlequins and scaramouches in the little open temple on the mount. On the canal was a sort of gondola, adorned with flags and streamers, and filled with music, rowing about. All round the outside of the amphitheatre were shops, filled with Dresden china, Japan, etc. and all the shop-keepers in mask. The amphitheatre was illuminated; and in the middle was a circular bower, composed of all kinds of firs in tubs from twenty to thirty feet high: under them orange-trees, with small lamps in each orange, and below them all sorts of the finest auriculas in pots; and festoons of natural flowers hanging from tree to tree. Between the arches too were firs, and smaller ones in the balconies above. There were booths for tea and wine, gaming-tables and dancing, and about two thousand persons. In short, it pleased me more than any thing I ever saw. It is to be once more, and probably finer as to dresses, as there has since been a subscription-masquerade, and people will go in their rich habits. The next day were the fire-works, which by no means answered the expense, the length of preparation, and the expectation that had been raised; indeed, for a week before, the town was like a country fair, the streets filled from morning to night, scaffolds building wherever you could or could not see, and coaches arriving from every corner of the kingdom. This hurry and lively scene, with the sight of the immense crowd in the Park and on every house, the guards, and the machine itself, which was very beautiful, was all that was worth seeing. The rockets, and whatever was thrown up into the air, succeeded mighty well; but the wheels, and all that was to compose the principal part, were pitiful and ill-conducted, with no changes of coloured fires and shapes: the illumination was mean, and lighted so slowly that scarce any body had patience to wait the finishing; and then, -what contributed to the awkwardness of the whole, was the right pavilion catching fire, and being burnt down in the middle of the show. The King, the Duke, and Princess Emily saw it from the library,(19) with their courts: the Prince and Princess, with their children, from Lady Middlesex's; no place being provided for them, nor any invitation given to the library. The lords and Commons had galleries built for them and the chief citizens along the rails of the mall: the lords had four tickets a-piece, and each Commoner, at first, but two, till the Speaker bounced and obtained a third. Very little mischief was done, and but two persons killed: at Paris, there were forty killed and near three hundred wounded, by a dispute between the French and Italians in the management, who, quarrelling for precedence in lighting the fires, both lighted at once and blew up the whole. Our mob was extremely tranquil, and very unlike those I remember in my father's time, when it was a measure in the Opposition to work up every thing to mischief, the excise and the French players, the convention and the gin-act. We are as much now in the opposite extreme, and in general so pleased with the peace, that I could not help being struck with a passage I read lately in Pasquier an old French author, who says, "that in the time of Francis 1. the French used to call their creditors 'Des Anglois,' from the facility with which the English gave credit to them in all treaties, though they had broken so many." On Saturday we had a serenata at the Opera-house, called Peace in Europe, but it was a wretched performance. On Monday there was a subscription-masquerade, much fuller than that of last year, but not so agreeable or so various in dresses. The King was well disguised in an old-fashioned English habit, and much pleased with somebody who desired him to hold their cup as they were drinking tea. The Duke had a dress of the same kind, but was so immensely corpulent that he looked like Cacofogo, the drunken captain, in Rule a Wife and Have a Wife. The Duchess of Richmond was a lady mayoress in the time of James I.; and Lord Delawarr,(20) Queen Elizabeth's porter, from a picture in the guard-chamber at Kensington; they were admirable masks. Lady Rochford, Miss Evelyn, Miss Bishop, Lady Stafford,(21) and Mrs. Pitt,(22) were in vast beauty; particularly the last, who had a red veil, which made her look gloriously handsome. I forgot Lady Kildare. Mr. Conway was the Duke in Don Quixote, and the finest figure I ever saw. Miss Chudleigh(23) was Iphigenia, but so naked that you would have taken her for Andromeda; and Lady Betty Smithson had such a pyramid of baubles upon her head, that she was exactly the Princess of Babylon in Grammont.

You will conclude that, after all these diversions, people begin to think of going out of town--no such matter: the Parliament continues sitting, and will till the middle Of June; Lord Egmont told us we should sit till Michaelmas. There are many private bills, no public ones of any fame. We were to have had some chastisement for Oxford, where, besides the late riots, the famous Dr. King,(24) the Pretender's great agent, made a most violent speech at the opening of the Ratcliffe library. The ministry denounced judgment, but, in their old style, have grown frightened, and dropped it. However, this menace gave occasion to a meeting and union between the Prince's party and the Jacobites, which Lord Egmont has been labouring all the winter. They met at the St. Alban's tavern, near Pall-mall, last Monday morning, an hundred and twelve Lords and Commoners. The Duke of Beaufort(25) opened the assembly with a panegyric on the stand that had been made this winter against so corrupt an administration, and hoped it would continue, and desired harmony. Lord Egmont seconded this strongly, and begged they would come up to Parliament early next winter. Lord Oxford(26) spoke next; and then Potter, with great humour, and to the great Abashment of the Jacobites, said he was very glad to see this union, and from thence hoped, that if another attack like the last rebellion should be made on the Royal Family, they would all stand by them. No reply was made to this. Then Sir Watkyn Williams spoke, Sir Francis Dashwood, and Tom Pitt,(27) and the meeting broke up. I don't know what his coalition may produce; it will require time with no better heads than compose it at present, though great Mr. Doddington had carried to the conference the assistance of his. In France a very favourable event has happened for us, the disgrace of Maurepas,(28) one of our bitterest enemies, and the promoter of their marine. Just at the beginning of the war, in a very critical period, he had obtained a very large sum for that service, but which one of the other factions, lest he should gain glory and credit by it, got to be Suddenly given away to the King of Prussia.

Sir Charles Williams is appointed envoy to this last King: here is an epigram which he has just sent over on Lord Egmont's opposition to the Mutiny-bill;

"Why has lord Egmont 'gainst this bill So much declamatory skill So tediously exerted? The reason's plain: but t'other day He mutinied himself for pay, And he has twice descried."

I must tell you a bon-mot that was made the other night at the serenata of "Peace in Europe" by Wall,(29) who is Much in fashion, and a kind of Gondomar. Grossatesta, the Modenese minister, a very low fellow, with all the jackpuddinghood of an Italian, asked, "Mais qui est ce qui repres`ente mon maitre>" Wall replied, "Mais, mon Die, l'abb`e, ne scavez vous pas que ce n'est pas un op`era boufon!" And here is another bon-mot of my Lady Townshend: We were talking of the Methodists: somebody said, "Nay, Madam, is it true that Whitfield has recanted?" "No, Sir, he has only canted."

If you ever think of returning to England, as I hope it will be long first, you must prepare yourself with Methodism. I really believe that by that time it will be necessary; this sect increases as fast as almost ever any religious nonsense did.

Lady Fanny Shirley has chosen this way of bestowing the dregs of her beauty; and Mr. Lyttelton is very near making the same sacrifice of the dregs of all those various characters that he has worn. The Methodists love your big sinners as proper subjects to work upon--and indeed they have a plentiful harvest--I think what you call flagrancy was never more in fashion. Drinking is at the highest wine-mark; and gaming joined with it so violent, that at the last Newmarket meeting, in the rapidity of both, a bank-bill was thrown down, and nobody immediately claiming it, they agreed to give it to a man that was standing by.

I must tell you of Stosch's letter, which he had the impertinence to give you without telling the contents. It was to solicit the arrears of his pension, which I beg you will Tell him I have no manner of interest to procure; and to tell me of a Galla Placidia, a gold medal lately found. It is not for myself, but I wish you would ask him the price for a friend of mine who would like to buy it. Adieu! my dear child; I have been long in arrears to you, but I trust you will take this huge letter as an acquittal. You see my villa makes me a good correspondent; how happy I should be to show it you, if I could, with no mixture of disagreeable circumstances to you. I have made a vast plantation! Lord Leicester told me the other day that he heard I would not buy some old china, because I was laying out all my money in trees; "Yes," said I, my Lord, I used to love blue trees, but Now I like green ones."

(19) Probably the old brick building near the bottom of the Green Park, which was called the Queen's Library," and which was pulled down by the late Duke of York when he built his new house in the Stable-yard, St. James's.-D.

(20) John West, seventh Lord Delawarr, created Earl Delawarr, in 1761-D.

(21) Henrietta Cantillon, wife of Matthias Howard, third Earl of Stafford.-D.

(22) Penelope Atkyns a celebrated beauty, wife of George Pitt, Esq. of Strathfieldsaye, in Hants, created in 1776 Lord Rivers.-D.

(23) Afterwards Duchess of Kingston.-D.

(24) last conspicuous Jacobite at Oxford. He was public orator of that University and principal of St. Mary Hall.-D.

(25) Lord Noel Somerset,- who, in 1746 succeeded his brother in the dukedom.

(26) Edward Harley, of Eywood, in the county of Hereford, to whom, pursuant to the limitations of the patent, the earldoms of Oxford and Mortimer descended, upon the death, without male issue, of the Lord Treasurer's only son, Edward, the second Earl. Lord Oxford was of the Jacobite party. He died in 1755.--D.

(27) Thomas Pitt, Esq. of Boconnock, in Cornwall, warden of the Stannaries. He married the sister of George, Lord Lyttelton, and was the father of the first Lord Camelford.-D.

(28) Phelypeaux, Count de Maurepas, son of the Chancellor de Pontchartrain. He was disgraced in consequence of some quarrel with the King's mistress. He returned to office, unhappily for France, in the commencement of the reign of louis the Sixteenth.-D.

(29) General Wall, the Spanish ambassador. Gondomar was the able Spanish ambassador in England in the reign of james the First.-D.

23 Letter 4 To Sir Horace Mann. Arlington Street, May 17, 1749.

We have not yet done diverting ourselves: the night before last the Duke of Richmond gave a firework; a codicil to the peace. He bought the rockets and wheels that remained in the pavilion which miscarried, and took the pretence of the Duke of Modena being here to give a charming entertainment. The garden(30) lies with a slope down to the Thames, on which were lighters, from whence were thrown up, after a concert of water-music, a great number of rockets. Then from boats on every side were discharged water-rockets and fires of that kind; and then the wheels Which were ranged along the rails of the terrace were played off; and the whole concluded with the illumination of a pavilion on the top of the slope, of two pyramids on each side, and of the whole length of the balustrade to the water. You can't conceive a prettier sight; the garden filled with every body of fashion, the Duke, the Duke of Modena, and the two black Princes. The King and Princess Emily were in their barge under the terrace; the river was covered with boats, and the shores and adjacent houses with crowds. The Duke of Modena played afterwards at brag, and there was a fine supper for him and the foreigners, of whom there are numbers here; it is grown as much the fashion to travel hither as to France or Italy. Last week there was a vast assembly and music at Bedford-house for this Modenese; and to-day he is set out to receive his doctor's degree at the two Universities. His appearance is rather better than it used to be, for, instead of wearing his wig down to his nose to hide the humour in his face, he has taken to paint his forehead white, which, however, with the large quantity of red that he always wears on the rest of his face, makes him ridiculous enough. I cannot say his manner is more polished; Princess Emily asked him if he did not find the Duke much fatter than when he was here before? He replied, "En verit`e il n'est pas si effroiable qu'on m'avoit dit." She commended his diamonds; he said, "Les v`otres sont bien petits." As I had been graciously received at his court, I went into his box the first night at the Opera: the first thing he did was to fall asleep; but as I did not choose to sit waiting his reveil in the face of the whole theatre, I waked him, and would discourse him: but here I was very unlucky, for of the only two persons I could recollect at his court to inquire after, one has been dead these four years, and the other, he could not remember any such man. However, Sabbatini, his secretary of state, flattered me extremely: told me he found me beaucoup mieux, and that I was grown very fat-I fear, I fear it was flattery! Eight years don't improve one,-and for my corpulence, if I am grown fat, what must I have been in my Modenese days!

I told you we were to have another jubilee masquerade: there was one by the King's command for Miss Chudleigh, tire maid of honour, with whom our gracious monarch has a mind to believe himself in love,--so much in love, that at one of the booths he gave her a fairing for her watch, which cost him five-and-thirty guineas,--actually disbursed out of his privy purse, and not charged on the civil list. Whatever you may think of it, this is a more magnificent present than the cabinet which the late King of Poland sent to the fair Countess Konismark, replete with all kinds of baubles and ornaments, and ten thousand ducats in one of the drawers. I hope some future Hollinshed or Stowe will acquaint posterity "that five-and-thirty guineas were an immense sum in those days!"

You are going to see one of our court-beauties in Italy, my Lady Rochford:(31) they are setting Out on their embassy to Turin. She is large, but very handsome, with great delicacy and address. All the Royals have been in love with her; but the Duke was so in all the forms, till she was a little too much pleased with her conquest of his brother-in-law the Prince of Hesse. You will not find much in the correspondence of her husband: his person is good, and he will figure well enough as an ambassador; better as a husband where cicisb`es don't expect to be molested. The Duke is not likely to be so happy with his new passion, Mrs. Pitt,(32) who, besides being in love with her husband, whom you remember (,lady Mary Wortley's George Pitt), is going to Italy with him, I think you will find her one of the most glorious beauties you ever saw. You are to have another pair of our beauties, the Princess Borghese's, Mr Greville(33) and his wife, who was the pretty Fanny M'Cartney.

Now I am talking scandal to you, and court-scandal, I must tell you that Lord Conway's sister, Miss Jenny, is dead suddenly with eating lemonade at the last subscription masquerade.,(34) It is not quite unlucky for her: she had outlived the Prince's love and her own face, and nothing remained but her love and her person, which was exceedingly bad.

The graver part of the world, who have not been given up to rockets and masquing, are amused with a book of Lord Bolinbroke's, just published, but written long ago. It is composed of three letters, the first to Lord Cornbury on the Spirit of Patriotism; and two others to Mr. lyttelton, (but with neither of their names,) on the Idea of a patriot King, and the State of Parties on the late King's accession. Mr. Lyttelton had sent him word, that he begged nothing might be inscribed to him that was to reflect on Lord Orford, for that he was now leagued with all Lord Orford's friends: a message as abandoned as the book itself: but indeed there is no describing the impudence with which that set of people unsay what they have been saying all their lives,-I beg their pardons, I mean the honesty with which they recant! Pitt told me coolly, that he had read this book formerly, when he admired Lord Bolinbroke more than he does now. The book by no means answered my expectation: the style, which is his fort, is very fine: the deduction and impossibility of drawing a consequence from what he is saying, as bad and obscure as in his famous Dissertation on Parties: Von must know the man, to guess his meaning. Not to mention the absurdity and impracticability of this kind of system, there is a long speculative dissertation on the origin of government, and even that greatly stolen from other writers, and that all on a sudden dropped, while he hurries into his own times, and then preaches (he of all men!) on the duty of preserving decency! The last treatise would not impose upon an historian of five years old: he tells Mr. Lyttelton, that he may take it from him, that there was no settled scheme at the end of the Queen's reign to introduce the Pretender; and he gives this excellent reason: because, if there had been, he must have known it; and another reason as ridiculous, that no traces of such a scheme have since come to light. What, no traces in all cases of himself, Atterbury, the Duke of Ormond, Sir William Windham, and others! and is it not known that the moment the queen was expired, Atterbury proposed to go in his lawn sleeves and proclaim the Pretender at Charing-cross, but Bolinbroke's heart failing him, Atterbury swore, "There was the best cause in Europe lost for want of spirit!" He imputes Jacobitism singly to Lord Oxford, whom he exceedingly abuses; and who, so far from being suspected, was thought to have fallen into disgrace with that faction for refusing to concur with them. On my father he is much less severe than I expected; and in general, so obliquely, that hereafter he will not be perceived to aim at him, though at this time one knows so much what was at his heart, that it directs one to his meaning.

But there is a preface to this famous book, which makes much more noise than the work itself. It seems, Lord Bolinbroke had originally trusted Pope with the copy, to have half-a-dozen printed for particular friends. Pope, who loved money infinitely beyond any friend, got fifteen hundred Copies(35) printed privately, intending to outlive Bolingbroke and make great advantage of them; and not only did this, but altered the copy at his Pleasure, and even made different alterations in different copies. Where Lord Bolingbroke had strongly flattered their common friend lyttelton, Pope suppressed the panegyric: where, in compliment to Pope, he had softened the satire on Pope's great friend, Lord Oxford, Pope reinstated the abuse. The first part of this transaction is recorded in the preface; the two latter facts are reported by Lord Chesterfield and Lyttelton, the latter of whom went to Bolingbroke to ask how he had forfeited his good opinion. In short, it is comfortable to us people of moderate virtue to hear these demigods, and patriots, and philosophers, inform the world of each other's villanies.(36) What seems to make Lord Bolinbroke most angry, and I suppose does, is Pope's having presumed to correct his work. As to his printing so many copies, it certainly was a compliment, and the more profit (which however could not be immense) he expected to make, the greater opinion he must have conceived of the merit of the work: if one had a mind to defend Pope, should not one ask,(37) if any body ever blamed Virgil's executors for not burning the AEneid, as he ordered them? Warburton, I fear, does design to defend Pope: and my uncle Horace to answer the book; his style, which is the worst in the world, must be curious, in opposition to the other. But here comes full as bad a part of the story as any: Lord Bolinbroke, to buy himself out of the abuse in the Duke of Marlborough's life, or to buy himself into the supervisal of it, gave those letters to Mallet, who is writing this life for a legacy in the old Duchess's will, (and which, with much humour, she gave, desiring it might not be written in verse,) and Mallet sold them to the bookseller for a hundred and fifty pounds. Mallet had many obligations to Pope, no disobligations to him, and was one of his grossest flatterers; witness the sonnet on his supposed death, printed in the notes to the Dunciad. I was this morning told an anecdote from the Dorset family that is no bad collateral evidence of the Jacobitism Of the Queen'S four last years. They wanted to get Dover Castle into their hands, and sent down Prior to the present Duke of Dorset, who loved him, and probably was his brother,(38) to persuade him to give it up. He sent Prior back with great an(-,er, and in three weeks was turned out of the government himself but it is idle to produce proofs; as idle as to deny the scheme.

I have just been with your brother Gal. who has been laid up these two days with the gout in his ankle; an absolute professed gout in all the forms, and with much pain. Mr. Chute is out of town; when he returns, I shall set him upon your brother to reduce him to abstinence and health. Adieu!

(30 At Whitehall.

(31) Daughter of Edward Young' Esq. and wife of William, Earl of Rochford. She had been maid of honour to the Princess of Wales.

(32) Penelope, sister of Sir Richard Atkyns.

(33) Fulke Greville, Esq. son of the Hon. Algernon Greville, second son of Fulke, fifth Lord Brooke. His wife was the authoress of the pretty poem entitled "an Ode to Indifference."-D.

(34) This event was commemorated in the following doggrel lines:--

"Poor Jenny Conway She drank lemonade, At a masquerade, So now she's dead and gone away."-D.

(35) Lord Bolingbroke discovered what Pope had done during his lifetime, and never forgave him for it. He-obliged him to give up the copies, and they were burned on the terrace of Lord Bolingbroke's house at Battersea, in the presence of Lord B. and Pope.-D.

(36) In reference to this publication, Lord Bolingbroke himself, in a letter to Lord Marchmont, written on the 7th of June, says, "The book you mention has brought no trouble upon me, though it has given occasion to many libels upon me. They are of the lowest form, and seem to be held in the contempt they deserve. There I shall leave them, nor suffer a nest of hornets to disturb the quiet of my retreat. If these letters of mine come to your hands, your lordship will find that I have left out all that was said of our friend Lord Lyttelton in one of them. He desired that it might be so; and I had at once the double mortification of concealing the good I had said of one friend, and of revealing the turpitude of another. I hope you will never have the same treatment that I have met with; neither will you. I am single in my circumstances--a species apart in the political society; and they, who dare to attack no one else, may attack me. Chesterfield says, I have made a coalition of Wig, Tory, Trimmer, and Jacobite against myself. Be it so. I have Truth, that is stronger than all of them, on my side; and, in her company, and avowed by her, I have more satisfaction than their applause and their favour could give me." Marchmont Papers.-E.

(37) This thought was borrowed by Mr. Spence, in a pamphlet published on this occasion in defence of Pope.

(38) Burnet relates that the Earl of Dorset, celebrated for patronage of Genius, found Prior by chance reading Horace, and was so well pleased with his proficiency, that he undertook the care and cost of academical education.

27 Letter 5 To George Montagu, Esq. Arlington Street, May 18, 1749,.

Dear George, Whatever you hear of the Richmond fireworks, that is short of the prettiest entertainment in the world, don't believe it - I really never passed a more agreeable evening. Every thing succeeded; all the wheels played in time; Frederick was fortunate, and all the world in good humour. Then for royalty--Mr. Anstis himself would have been glutted; there were all the Fitzes upon earth, the whole court of St. Germains, the Duke,(39) the Duke of Modena, and two Anamaboes. The King, and Princess Emily bestowed themselves upon the mob on the river and as soon as they were gone, the Duke had the music into the garden, and himself, with my Lady Lincoln, Mrs. Pitt, Peggy Banks, and Lord Holderness, entertained the good subjects with singing God save the King to them over the rails of the terrace. The Duke of Modena supped there, and the Duke was asked, but he answered, it was impossible; in short, he could not adjust his dignity to a mortal banquet. There was an admirable scene: Lady Burlington brought the Violette, and the Richmonds had asked Garrick who stood ogling and sighing the whole time, while my Lady kept a most fierce look-out. Sabbatini, one of the Duke of Modena's court, was asking me who all the people were? and who is that? "C'est miladi Hartington, la belle fille du Duc de Devonshire." "Et qui est cette autre dame!" It was a distressing question; after a little hesitation, I replied, "Mais c'est Mademoiselle Violette?" "Et comment Mademoiselle Violette! j'ai connu une Mademoiselle Violette, par exemple."(40) I begged him to look at Miss Bishop.

In the middle of all these principalities and powers was the Duchess of Queensbury, in her forlorn trim, a white apron and a white hood, and would make the Duke swallow all her undress. T'other day she drove post to Lady Sophia Thomas, at Parsons-green, and told her that she was come to tell her something of importance. " What is it!" "Why take a couple of beef-steaks, clap them together as if they were for a dumpling, and eat them with pepper and salt; it is the best thing you ever tasted: I could not help coming to tell you this:" and away she drove back to town. Don't a course of folly for forty years make one very sick?

The weather is SO hot, and the roads so dusty, that I can't get to Strawberry; but I shall begin negotiating with you now about your coming. You must not expect to find it in beauty. I hope to get my bill finished in ten days; I have scrambled it through the lords; but altogether, with the many difficulties and plagues, I am a good deal out of humour; my purchases hitch, and new proprietors start out of the ground, like the crop of soldiers in the Metamorphosis. I expect but an unpleasant summer; my indolence and inattention are not made to wade through leases and deeds. Mrs. Chenevix brought me one yesterday to sign, and her sister Bertrand, the toy-woman of Bath, for a witness. I showed them my cabinet of enamels instead of treating them with white wine. The Bertrand said, "Sir, I hope you don't trust all sorts of ladies with this cabinet!" What an entertaining assumption of dignity! I must tell you an anecdote that I found t'other day in an old French author, which is a great drawback on beaux sentiments and romantic ideas. Pasquier, in his "Recherches de la France," is giving an account of the Queen of Scots' execution; he says, the night before, knowing her body must be stripped for her shroud, she would have her feet washed, because she used ointment to one of them which was sore. I believe I have told you, that in a very old trial of her, which I bought from Lord Oxford's collection, it is said that she was a large lame woman. Take sentiments out of their pantoufles, and reduce them to the infirmities of mortality, what a falling off there is! I could not help laughing in myself t'other day, as I went through Holborn in a very hot day, at the dignity of human nature; all those foul old-clothes women panting without handkerchiefs, and mopping themselves all the way down within their loose jumps. Rigby gave me a strong picture of human nature; he and Peter Bathurst t'other night carried a servant of the latter's, who had attempted to shoot him, before Fielding; who, to all his other vocations, has, by the grace of Mr. Lyttelton, added that of Middlesex justice. He sent them word he was at supper, that they must come next morning. They did not understand that freedom, and ran up, where they found him banqueting with a blind man,(41) a whore, and three on some cold mutton and a bone of ham, both in One dish, and the dirtiest cloth. He never stirred nor asked them to sit. Rigby, who had seen him so often come to beg a guinea of Sir C. Williams, and Bathurst, at whose father's he had lived for victual,,, understood that dignity as little, and pulled themselves chairs; on which he civilized.(42)

Millar the bookseller has done generously by him: finding Tom Jones, for which he had given him six hundred pounds, sell So greatly, he has since given him another hundred.(43) Now I talk to you of authors, Lord Cobham's West(44) has published his translation of Pindar; the poetry is very stiff, but prefixed to it there is a very entertaining account of the Olympic games, and that preceded by an affected inscription to Pitt and Lyttelton. The latter has declared his future match with Miss Rich. George Grenville has been married these two days to Miss Windham. Your friend Lord North is, I suppose you know, on the brink with the countess of Rockingham;(45) and I think your cousin Rice is much inclined to double the family alliance with her sister Furnese. It went on very currently for two or three days, but last night at Vauxhall his minionette face seemed to be sent to languish with Lord R. Berties's.

Was not you sorry for poor Cucumber? I do assure you I was; it was shocking to be hurried away so suddenly, and in so much torment. You have heard I suppose of Lord Harry Beauclerc's resignation, on his not being able to obtain a respite till November, though the lowest officer in his regiment has got much longer leave. It is incredible how Nolkejumskoi has persecuted this poor man for these four years, since he could not be persuaded to alter his vote at a court-martial for the acquittal of a man whom the Duke would have condemned. Lord Ossulston, too, has resigned his commission.

I must tell you a good story of Charles Townshend: you know his political propensity and importance; his brother George was at supper at the King's Arms with some more young men. The conversation somehow or other rambled into politics, and it was started that the national debt was a benefit. "I am sure it is not," said Mr. Townshend; I can't tell why, but my brother Charles can, and I will send to him for arguments." Charles was at supper at another tavern, but so much the dupe of this message, that he literally called for ink and paper, wrote four long sides of arguments, and sent word that when his company broke up, he would come and give them more, which he did at one o'clock in the morning. I don't think you will laugh much less at what happened to me: I wanted a print out of a booth, which I did not care to buy at Osborn's shop: the next day he sent me the print, and begged that when I had any thing to publish, I would employ him.

I will now tell you, and finish this long letter, how I shocked Mr. Mackenzie inadvertently at Vauxhall: we had supped there a great party, and coming out, Mrs. More, who waits at the gate, said, "Gentlemen and ladies, you will walk in and hear the surprising alteration of voice?" I forgetting Mackenzie's connexions, and that he was formerly of the band, replied, "No, I have seen patriots enough."

I intend this letter shall last you till you come to Strawberry Hill. one might have rolled it out into half-a-dozen. My best compliments to your sisters.

(39) The Duke of Cumberland.

(40) Garrick's; marriage with Mademoiselle Eva Maria Violette took place four days after the date of this letter.-E.

(41) Sir Walter Scott suggests, that this blind man was probably Fielding's brother.-E.

(42) "Allen, the friend of Pope," says Sir Walter Scott, "was also one of his benefactors, but unnamed at his own desire; thus confirming the truth of the poet's beautiful couplet,

'Let humble Allen, with an awkward shame, Do good by stealth, and blush to find it fame.'

It is said that this munificent and modest patron made Fielding a present of two hundred pounds at one time, and that even before he was personally acquainted with him."-E.

(43) "This," observes Sir Walter Scott, in his biographical notice of Fielding, " is a humiliating anecdote, even after we have made allowance for the aristocratic exaggeration of Walpole; yet it is consoling to observe that Fielding's principles remained unshaken, though the circumstances attending his official situation tended to increase the careless disrespectability of his private habits. His own account of his conduct respecting the dues of the office on which he depended for subsistence, has never been denied or doubted: 'I confess,' says he, 'that my private affairs at the beginning of the winter had but a gloomy aspect; for I had not plundered the public or the poor of those sums which they who are always ready to plunder both as much as they can, have been pleased to suspect me of taking: on the contrary, by composing, instead of inflaming, the quarrels of porters and beggars, and by refusing to take a shilling from a man who most undoubtedly would not have had another left, I had reduced an income of about five hundred a year, of the dirtiest money upon earth, to a little more than three hundred; a considerable portion of which remained with my clerk."'-E.

(44) West's mother was sister to Sir Richard Temple, afterwards Lord Cobham. Of his translation of Pindar, Dr. Johnson states, that he found his expectations surpassed, both by its elegance and its exactness. For his "Observations on the Resurrection," the University of Oxford, in March 1748, created him a Doctor of Laws by diploma. At his residence at Wickham, where he was often visited by Lyttelton and Pitt, there is a walk designed by the latter; while the former received at this place that conviction which produced his "Dissertation on St. Paul."-E.

(45) Daughter of Sir Robert Furnese, and widow of Lewis, Earl of Rockingham.

30 Letter 6 To Sir Horace Mann. Strawberry Hill, June 4, 1749.

As summery as June and Strawberry Hill may sound, I assure you I am writing to you by the fire-side: English weather will give vent to its temper, and whenever it is out of humour it will blow east and north and all kinds of cold. Your brothers Ned and Gal. dined with me to-day, and I carried the latter back to Richmond: as I passed over the green, I saw Lord Bath, Lord Lonsdale,(46) and half-a-dozen more of the White's club sauntering at the door of a house which they have taken there, and come to every Saturday and Sunday to play at whist. You will naturally ask why they can't play at whist in London on those two days as well as on the other five; indeed I can't tell you, except that it is so established a fashion to go out of town at the end of the week, that people do go, though it be only into another town. It made me smile to see Lord Bath sitting there, like a citizen that has left off trade.

Your brother Ned has not seen Strawberry Hill since my great improvements; he was astonished: it is pretty: you never saw so tranquil a scene, without the least air of melancholy: I should hate it, if it was dashed with that. I forgot to ask Gal. what is become of the books of Houghton which I gave him six months ago for you and Dr. Cocchi. You perceive I have got your letter of May 23rd, and with it Prince Craon's simple epistle to his daughter:(47) I have no mind to deliver it: it would be a proper recommendation of a staring boy on his travels, and is consequently very suitable to my colleague, Master St. Leger; but one hates to be coupled with a romping grayhound puppy, "qui est moins prudent que Monsieur Valpol!" I did not want to be introduced to Madame de Mirepoix's assemblies, but to be acquainted with her, as I like her family: I concluded, simple as he is, that an old Frenchman knew how to make these distinctions. By thrusting St. Leger into the letter with me, and talking of my prudence, I shall not wonder if she takes me for his bear-leader, his travelling governor!

Mr. Chute, who went from hence this morning, and is always thinking of blazoning your pedigree(48) in the noblest colours, has turned over all my library, till he has tapped a new and very great family for you: in short, by your mother it is very clear that you are descended from Hubert de Burgh, Grand Justiciary to Richard the Second: indeed I think he was hanged; but that is a misfortune that ill attend very illustrious genealogies; it is as common to them as to the pedigrees about Paddington and Blacieheath. I have had at least a dozen great-great-grandfathers that came to untimely ends. All your virtuosos in heraldry are content to know that they had ancestors who lived five hundred years ago, no matter how they died. A match with a low woman corrupts a stream of blood as long as the Danube, tyranny, villainy, and executions are mere fleabites, and leave no stain. The good Lord of Bath, whom I saw on Richmond-green this evening, did intend, I believe, to ennoble my genealogy with another execution: how low is he sunk now from those views! and how entertaining to have lived to see all those virtuous patriots proclaiming their mutual iniquities! Your friend Mr. Doddington, it seems, is so reduced as to be relapsing into virtue. In my last I told you some curious anecdotes of another part of the band, of Pope and Bolingbroke. The friends of the former have published twenty pamphlets against the latter; I say against the latter, for, as there is no defending Pope, they are reduced to satirize Bolingbroke. One of them tells him how little he would be known himself from his own writings, if he were not immortalized in Pope's; and still more justly, that if be destroys Pope's moral character, what will become of his own, which has been retrieved and sanctified by the embalming art of his friend? However, there are still new discoveries made every day of Pope's dirty selfishness. Not content with the great profits which he proposed to make of the work in question, he could not bear that the interest of his money should be lost till Bolingbroke's death; and therefore told him that it would cost very near as much to have the press set for half-a-dozen copies as it would for a complete edition, and by this means made Lord Bolingbroke pay very near the whole expense of the fifteen hundred. Another story I have been told on this occasion, was of a gentleman who, making a visit to Bishop Atterbury in France, thought to make his court by commending Pope. The Bishop replied not: the gentleman doubled the dose - at last the Bishop shook his head, and said, "Mens curva in corpore curvo!" The world will now think justly of these men: that Pope was the greatest poet, but not the most disinterested man in the world; and that Bolingbroke had not all those virtues and not all those talents which the other so proclaimed; and that be did not even deserve the friendship which lent him so much merit; and for the mere loan of which he dissembled attachment to Pope, to whom in his heart he was as perfidious and as false as he has been to the rest of the world.

The Duke of Devonshire has at last resigned, for the unaccountable and unenvied pleasure of shutting himself up at Chatsworth with his ugly mad Duchess;(49) the more extraordinary sacrifice, as he turned her head, rather than give up a favourite match for his son. She has consented to live with him there, and has even been with him in town for a few days, but did not see either her son or Lady Harrington. On his resignation he asked and obtained an English barony for Lord Besborough, whose son Lord Duncannon, you know, married the Duke's eldest daughter. I believe this is a great disappointment to my uncle, who hoped he would ask the peerage for him or Pigwiggin. The Duke of Marlborough succeeds as lord steward. Adieu!

(46) Henry Lowther, third Viscount Lonsdale, of the first creation. He was the second son of John, the first Viscount, and succeeded his elder brother Richard in the title in 1713. He was a lord of the bedchamber, and at one period of his life was privy seal.-D.

(47) Madame de Mirepoix, French ambassadress in England, to whom her father, Prince Craon, had written a letter of introduction for Horace Walpole.- D.

(48) Count Richcourt, and some Florentines, his creatures, had been very impertinent about Mr. Mann's family, which was very good, and which made it necessary to have his pedigree drawn out, and sent over to Florence.

(49) Coxe, in his Memoirs of Lord Walpole, vol ii. p. 264, says that the Duke of Devonshire resigned, because be was disgusted with the feuds in the cabinet, and perplexed with the jealous disposition of Newcastle and the desponding spirit of Pelham. He adds, " that the Duke was a man of sound judgment and unbiased integrity, and that Sir Robert Walpole used to declare, that, on a subject which required mature deliberation, he would prefer his sentiments to those of any other person in the kingdom."-E.

32 Letter 7 To Sir Horace Mann. Arlington Street, June 25, 1749.

Don't flatter yourself with your approaching year of jubilee; its pomps and vanities will be nothing to the shows and triumphs we have had, and are having. I talk like an Englishman: here you know we imagine that a jubilee is a season of pageants, not of devotion but our Sabbath has really been all tilt and tournament. There have been, I think, no less than eight masquerades, the fire-works, and a public act at Oxford: to-morrow is an installation of six Knights of the Bath, and in August of as many Garters: Saturday, Sunday, and Monday next, are the banquets(50) at Cambridge, for the instalment of the Duke of Newcastle as chancellor. The whole world goes to it: he has invited, summoned, pressed the entire body of nobility and gentry from all parts of England. His cooks have been there these ten days, distilling essences of every living creature, and massacring and confounding all the species that Noah and Moses took such pains to preserve and distinguish. It would be pleasant to see the pedants and professors searching for etymologies of strange dishes, and tracing more wonderful transformations than any in the Metamorphoses. How miserably Horace's unde et quo Catius will be hacked about in clumsy quotations! I have seen some that will be very unwilling performers at the creation of this ridiculous MaMaMOUChi.(51) I have set my heart on their giving a doctor's degree to the Duchess of Newcastle's favourite--this favourite is at present neither a lover nor an apothecary, but a common pig, that she brought from Hanover: I am serious; and Harry Vane, the new lord of the treasury, is entirely employed, when he is not -,it the Board, in opening and shutting the door for it. Tell me, don't you very often throw away my letters in a passion, and believe that I invent the absurdities I relate! Were not we as mad when you was in England?

The King, who has never dined out of his own palaces, has just determined to dine at Claremont to-morrow--all the cooks are at Cambridge; imagine the distress!