As I have wrote you two such long letters lately, my dear Hal, I

did not hurry myself to answer your last; but choose to write to

poor SelWyn (188) Upon his illness. I pity you excessively upon

finding him in such a situation- what a shock it must have been

to you! He deserves so much love from all that know him, and you

owe him so much friendship, that I can scarce conceive a greater

shock. I am very glad you did not write to me till he was out of

danger; for this great distance would have added to my pain, as I

must have waited so long for another letter. I charge you, don't

let him relapse into balls: he does not love them, and, if you

please, your example may keep him out of them. You are extremely

pretty people to be dancing and trading with French poulterers

and pastry cooks, when a hard frost is starving half the nation,

and the Spanish war ought to be employing the other half. We are

much more public spirited here; we live upon the public news, and

triumph abundantly upon the taking Porto-Bello. If you are not

entirely debauched with your balls, you must be pleased with an

answer of Lord Harrington's (189) to the governor of

Rome. He asked him what they had determined about the

vessel that the Spaniards took under the canon of Civita

Vecchia, whether they had restored it to the English? The

governor said, they had done justice. My lord replied, "If you

had not, we should have' done it ourselves." Pray

reverence our spirit, Lieutenant Hal.

Sir, MoscovitEO (190) is not a pretty woman, and she does

sing ill; that's all.

My dear Harry, I must now tell you a little about myself,

and answer your questions. How I like the inanimate part of Rome

you will soon perceive at my arrival in England; I am far gone in

medals, lamps, idols, prints, etc." and all the small commodities

to the purchase of which I can attain; I would buy the Coliseum

if I could: Judge. My mornings are spent in the most agreeable

manner; my evenings ill enough. Roman conversations are dreadful

things! such untoward

mawkins as the princesses! and the princes are worse. Then the

whole city is littered with French and German abb`es,

who make up a dismal contrast with the inhabitants. The

conclave is far from enlivening us; its secrets don't

transpire. I could give you names of this cardinal and

that, that are talked of, but each is contradicted the next hour.

I was there t'other day to visit one of them, and one of the most

agreeable, Alexander Albani. I had the

opportunity of two cardinals making their entry: upon that

occasion the gate is unlocked, and their eminences come to talk

to their acquaintance over the threshold. I have

received great civilities from him I named to you, and I

wish he were out, that I might receive greater: a friend of his

does the honours of Rome for him; but you know that it is

unpleasant to visit by proxy. Cardinal Delei, the object of the

Corsini faction, is dying; the hot weather will probably despatch

half a dozen more. Not that it is hot yet; I am now writing to

you by my fireside.

Harry, you saw Lord Deskfoord (191) at Geneva; don't you

like him? He is a mighty sensible man. There are few young

people have so good understandings. He is mighty grave, and so

are you; but you can both be pleasant when you have a

mind. Indeed, one can make you pleasant, but his solemn

Scotchery is a little formidable: before you 1 can play the fool

from morning to night, courageously. Good night. I

have other letters to write, and must finish this.

Yours ever.

(188) John Selwyn, elder brother of George Augustus Selwyn. He

died about 1750.

(189)William Marquis of Hartington. He succeeded his father as

fourth Duke of Devonshire in 1755.-E.

(190) Notwithstanding she laboured under such

disadvantages-and want of beauty and want of talent are

serious ones to a cantatrice,-it will be seen from Walpole's

letter to Mann, 5th Nov. 1741, that the Moscovita, on her

arrival here, received six hundred guineas for the season,

instead of four hundred, the salary previously given to the ,

second woman;" and became, moreover, the mistress of Lord

Middlesex, the director of the opera.-E.

(191) Son of the Earl of Findlater and Seafield, who

succeeded his father in 1764, and died in 1770.-E.

152 Letter 22

To Richard West, Esq.

Rome, May 7, 1740, N. S.

Dear West,

'Twould be quite rude and unpardonable in one not to wish you joy

upon the great conquests that you are all committing all over the

world. We heard the news last night from Naples, that Admiral

Haddock (192) had met the Spanish convoy going to Majorca, and

taken it all, all; three thousand men, three

colonels, and a Spanish grandee. We conclude it is true, for the

Neapolitan Majesty mentioned it at dinner. We are going thither

in about a week, to wish him joy of it too. 'Tis with some

apprehensions we go too, of having a pope chosen in the interim:

that would be cruel, you know. But, thank our stars, there is no

great probability of it. ' Feuds and contentions run high among

the eminences. A notable one happened this week. Cardinal

Zinzendorff and two more had given their votes for the general of

the Capucins: he is of the Barberini

family, not a cardinal, but a worthy man. Not effecting any

thing, Zinzendorff voted for Coscia, and declared it publicly.

Cardinal Petra reproved him; but the German replied, he

thought Coscia as fit to be pope as any of them. It seems, his

pique to the whole body is, their having denied a daily admission

of a pig into the conclave for

his eminence's use who, being much troubled with the gout, was

ordered by his mother to bathe his leg in pig's blood every

morning.

Who should have a vote t other day but the Cardinalino of

Toledo! Were he older, the Queen of Spain might possibly

procure more than one for him, though scarcely enough.

Well, but we won't talk Politics: shall we talk antiquities?

Gray and I discovered a considerable curiosity lately. In an

unfrequented quarter of the Colonna garden lie two immense

fragments of marble, formerly part of a frieze to some building;

'tis not known of what. They are of Parian marble: which may

give one some idea of the magnificence of the rest of the

building for these pieces were at the very top. Upon inquiry, we

were told they had been measured by an architect, who declared

they were larger than any member of St. Peter's. The length of

one of the pieces is above sixteen feet. They were formerly sold

to a stonecutter for five thousand crowns, but Clement XI. would

not permit them to be sawed, annulled the bargain, and laid a

penalty of twelve thousand crowns upon the family if they parted

with them. I think it was a right judged thing. Is it not

amazing, that so vast a structure should not be known of, or that

it should be so entirely destroyed? But indeed at Rome this is a

common surprise; for, by the remains one sees of the Roman

grandeur in their structures, 'tis evident that there must have

been more pains taken to destroy those piles than to raise them.

They are more demolished than any time or chance could have

effected. I am persuaded that in an hundred years Rome will not

be worth seeing; 'tis less so now than one would believe. All

the public pictures are decayed or decaying; the few ruins cannot

last long; and the statues and private collections must be sold,

from the great poverty of the families. There are now selling no

less than three of the principal collections, the Barberini, the

Sacchetti, and Ottoboni: the latter

belonged to the cardinal who died in the conclave. I must give

you an instance of his generosity, or rather ostentation. When

Lord Carlisle was here last year, who is a great

virtuoso, he asked leave to see the cardinal's collection of

cameos and intaglios. Ottoboni gave leave, and ordered the

person who showed them to observe which my lord admired most. My

lord admired many: they were all sent him the next morning. He

sent the cardinal back a fine gold repeater; who returned him an

acate snuff box, and more cameoes of ten

times the value. Voila qui est fini! Had my lord produced more

golden repeaters, it would have been begging more cameos.

Adieu, my dear West! You see I write often and much, as you

desired it. Do answer one now and then, with any little job that

is done in England. Good night. Yours ever.

(192) This report, which proved unfounded, was grounded on the

fact, that on the 18th of April his Majesty's ships Lenox, Kent,

and Orford, commanded by Captains Mayne, Durell, and Lord

Augustus Fitzroy, part of Admiral Balchen's squadron

being on a cruise about forty leagues to the westward of Cape

Finisterre, fell in with the Princessa, esteemed the finest ship

of war in the Spanish navy, and captured her, after an engagement

of five hours.-E.

(193) Henry fourth Earl of Carlisle, grandfather of the

present Earl. In 1742, he married Isabella, the daughter of

William fourth Lord Byron, and died in 1758.-E.

(194) Cardinal Ottoboni, Dean of the Sacred College, who died in

1740: he had been made a cardinal in 1689.-E.

153 Letter 23

To Richard West, Esq.

Naples, June 14, 1740, N. S.

Dear West,

One hates writing descriptions that are to be found in every book

of travels; but we have seen something to-day that I am sure you

never read of, and perhaps never heard of. Have

you ever heard of a subterraneous town? a whole Roman town, with

all its edifices, remaining under ground? Don't fancy the

inhabitants buried it there to save it from the Goths: they were

buried with it themselves; which is a caution we are not told

that they ever took. You remember in Titus's time there were

several cities destroyed by an eruption of Vesuvius,

attended with an earthquake. Well, this was one of them, not

very considerable, and then called Herculaneum. (195) Above it

has since been built Portici, about three miles from

Naples, where the King has a villa. This under-ground city is

perhaps one of the noblest curiosities that ever has been

discovered. It was found out by chance, about a year and half

ago. They began digging, they found statues; they dug,

further, they found more. Since that they have made a

very considerable progress, and find continually. You may walk

the compass of a mile; but by the misfortune of the

modern town being overhead, they are obliged to proceed with

great caution, lest they destroy both one and t'other. By this

occasion the path is very narrow, just wide enough and high

enough for one man to walk upright. They have hollowed, as they

found it easiest to work, and have carried their

streets not exactly where were the ancient ones, but sometimes

before houses, sometimes through them. You would imagine that

all the fabrics were crushed together; on the contrary.,

except some columns, they have found all the edifices standing

upright in their proper ' situation. There is one inside of a

temple quite perfect, with the middle arch, two columns, and two

pilasters. It is built of brick plastered over, and

painted with architecture almost all the insides of the houses

are in the same manner; and, what is very particular the

general ground of all the painting is red. Besides this

temple, they make out very plainly an amphitheatre: the

stairs, of white marble and the seats are very perfect; the

inside was painted in the same colour with the private houses,

and great part cased with white marble. They have found among

other things some fine statues, some human bones, some rice,

medals, and a few paintings

extremely fine. These latter are preferred to all the ancient

paintings that have ever been discovered. We have not seen them

yet, as they are kept in the King's apartment, whither all these

curiosities are transplanted; and 'tis difficult to see them-but

we shall. I forgot to tell you, that in several places the beams

of the houses remain, but burnt to charcoal; so little damaged

that they retain visibly the grain of the wood, but upon touching

crumble to ashes. What is remarkable, there are no other marks

or appearance of fire, but what are visible on these beams.

There might certainly be collected great light from this

reservoir of antiquities, if a man of learning had the

inspection of it; if he directed the working, and would make a

journal of the discoveries. But I believe there is no

judicious choice made of directors. There is nothing of the kind

known in the world; I mean a Roman city entire of that age, and

that has not been corrupted with modern repairs.

(196) Besides scrutinising this very carefully, I should be

inclined to search for the remains of the other towns that were

partners with this in the general ruin. 'Tis certainly an

advantage to the learned world, that this has been laid up so

long. Most of the discoveries in Rome were made in a

barbarous age, where they only ransacked the ruins in quest of

treasure, and had no regard to the form and being of the

building; or to any circumstances that might give light to its

use and history. I shall finish this long account with a

passage which Gray has observed in Statius, and which

correctly pictures out this latent city:-

Haec ego Chalcidicis ad te, Marcelle, sonabam

Littoribus, fractas ubi Vestius egerit iras,

Emula Trinacriis volvens incendia flammis.

Mira fides! credetne viram ventura propago,

Cum segetes iterum, cum jam haec deserta virebunt,

Infra urbes populosque premi?

SyLv. lib. iv. epist. 4.

Adieu, my dear West! and believe me yours ever.

(195) Some excavations were made at Herculaneum in 1709

by the Prince d'Elbeuf; but, thirty years elapsed after the

prince had been forbidden to dig further, before any more

notice was taken of them. In December 1738 the King of the two

Sicilies was at Portici, and gave orders for the

prosecution of these subterranean labours. There had been an

excavation in the time of the Romans;

and another so lately as 1689. In a letter from Gray

to his mother, he describes their visits to Herculaneum;

but, not mentioning it by name, Mason supposed it had not then

been discovered to be that city. It is evident, from this

observation of Walpole, that Mason's opinion was unfounded.-E.

(196) Pompei a was not then discovered.

155 Letter 24

To The Hon. H. S. Conway.

R`e di Cofano, vulg. Radicofani, July 5, 1740, N. S.

You will wonder, my dear Hal, to find me on the road from

Rome: why, intend I did to stay for a new popedom, but the old

eminences are cross and obstinate, and will not choose one the

Holy Ghost does not know when. There is a horrid thing called

the mallaria, that comes to Rome, every summer, and kills one,

and I did not care for being killed so far from Christian burial.

We have been jolted to death; my servants let us

come without springs to the chaise, and we are wore

threadbare: to add to our disasters, I have sprained my ancle,

and have brought it along, laid upon a little box of baubles that

I have bought for presents in England. Perhaps I may pick you

out some little trifle there, but don't depend upon it; you are a

disagreeable creature and may be I shall not care for you.

Though I am so tired in this devil of a place, yet I have taken

it into my head, that it is like Hamilton's Bawn, (197) and I

must write to you. 'Tis the top of a black barren mountain, a

vile little town at the foot of an old citadel: yet this, know

you, was the residence of one of the three kings that went to

Christ's birth-day; his name was Alabaster, Abarasser, or some

such thing; the other two were kings, one of the East, the other

of Cologn. 'Tis this of Cofano, who was represented in an

ancient painting found in the Palatine Mount, now in the

possession of Dr. Mead; he was crowned by Augustus. Well, but

about writing-what do you think I write with? Nay, with a pen;

there was never a one to be found in the whole

circumference but one, and that was in the possession of the

governor, and had been used time out of mind to write

the parole with : I was forced to send to borrow it. It was sent

me under the conduct of a sergeant and two Swiss, with desire to

return it when I should have done with it. 'Tis a curiosity, and

worthy to be laid up with the relics

which we have just been seeing- in a small hovel of

Capucins, on the side of the hill, and which were all brought by

his Majesty from Jerusalem. Among other things of great sanctity

there is a set of gnashing of teeth, the grinders very entire; a

bit of the worm that never dies, preserved in spirits; a crow of

St. Peter's cock, very useful against

Easter; the crisping and curling, frizzling and frowncing of Mary

Magdalen, which she cut off on growing devout. The good man that

showed us all these commodities was got into such a train of

calling them the blessed this, and blessed that, that at last he

showed us a bit of the blessed fig-tree that Christ cursed.

Florence, July 9.

My dear Harry,

We are come hither, and I have received another letter from you

with Hosier's Ghost. Your last put me in pain for you, when you

talked of going to Ireland; but now I find your

brother and sister go with you, I am not much concerned.

Should I be? You have but to say, for my feelings are

extremely at your service to dispose as you please. Let us see:

you are to come back to stand for some

place; that will be about April. 'Tis a sort of thing I

should do, too; and then we should see one another, and that

would be charming; but it is a sort of thing I have no mind to

do; and then we shall not see one another, unless you

would come hither-but that you cannot do: nay, I would not have

you, for then I shall be gone. So! there are many @

that just signify nothing at all. Return I must sooner than I

shall like. I am happy here to a degree. I'll tell you my

situation. I am lodged with Mr. Mann, (198) the best of

creatures. I have a terreno all to myself, with an open

gallery on the Arno, where I am now writing to you. Over

against me is the famous Gallery; and, on either hand, two fair

bridges. Is not this charming and cool? The air is so serene,

and so secure, that one sleeps with all the windows and doors

thrown open to the river, and only covered with a slight gauze to

keep away the gnats. Lady Pomfret

(199) has a charming conversation once a week. She has

taken a vast palace and a vast garden, which is vastly

commode, especially to the cicisbeo-part of mankind, who have

free indulgence to wander in pairs about the arbours. You know

her daughters : Lady Sophia (200) is still, nay she must be, the

beauty she was: Lady Charlotte, (201) is much improved, and is

the cleverest girl in the world; speaks the purest Tuscan, like

any Florentine. The

Princess Craon (202) has a constant pharaoh and supper every

night, where one is quite at one's ease. I am going into the

country with her and the prince for a little while, to a villa of

the Great Duke's. The people are good-humoured here and easy;

and what makes me pleased with them, they are pleased with me.

One loves to find people care for one, when they can have no view

in it.

You see how glad I am to have reasons for not returning; I wish I

had no better.

As to Hosier's Ghost, (203) I think it very easy, and

consequently pretty; but, from the ease, should never have

guessed it Glover's. I delight in your, "the patriots cry it up,

and the courtiers cry it down, and the hawkers cry it up and

down," and your laconic history of the King and Sir

Robert, on going to Hanover, and turning out the Duke of

Argyle. The epigram, too, you sent me

on the same occasion is charming.

Unless I sent you back news that you and others send me, I can

send you none. I have left the conclave, which is the only

stirring thing in this part of the world, except the child that

the Queen of Naples is to be delivered of in August. There is no

likelihood the conclave will end, unless the messages take effect

which 'tis said the Imperial and

French ministers have sent to their respective courts for

leave to quit the Corsini for the Albani faction: otherwise there

will never be a pope. Corsini has

lost the only one he could have ventured to make pope, and him he

designed; 'twas Cenci, a relation of the Corsini's

mistress. The last morning Corsini made him rise, stuffed a dish

of chocolate down his throat, and would carry him to

the scrutiny. The poor old creature went, came back, and

died. I am sorry to have lost the sight of the pope's

coronation, but I might have stayed for seeing it till I had been

old enough to be pope myself.

Harry, what luck the chancellor has! first, indeed, to be in

himself so great a man; but then in accidents: he is

made chief justice and peer, when Talbot is made chancellor and

peer: (204) Talbot dies in a twelvemonth, and leaves him the

seals at an age when others are scarce made solicitors:

(205)-then marries his son into one of the first families of

Britain, (206) obtains a patent for a marquisate and eight

thousand pounds a year after the Duke of Kent's death: the duke

dies in a fortnightt, and leaves them all! People talk of

Fortune's wheel, that is always rolling: my Lord Hardwicke has

overtaken her wheel, and rolled with it. I perceive Miss Jenny

(207) would not venture to Ireland, nor stray so far from London;

I am glad I shall always know where to find her within threescore

miles. I must say a word to my lord, which, Harry, be sure you

don't read. ["My dear lord, I don't love troubling you with

letters, because I know you don't love the trouble of answering

them; not that I should insist on that ceremony, but I hate to

burthen any one's conscience. Your brother tells me he is to

stand member of parliament: without telling me so, I am sure he

owes it to you. I am sure you will not repent setting him up;

nor will he be ungrateful to a brother who deserves so much, and

whose least merit is not the knowing how to employ so great a

fortune."]

There, Harry,-I have done. Don't suspect me: I have said no ill

of you behind your back. Make my

best compliments to Miss Conway. (208)

I thoght I had done, and lo, I had forgot to tell you, that who

d'ye think is here?-Even Mr. More! our Rheims Mr.

More! the fortification, hornwork, ravelin, bastion Mr.

More! which is very pleasant sure. At the end of the eighth

side, I think I need make no excuse for leaving off; but I am

going to write to Selwyn, and to the lady of the mountain; from

whom I have had a very kind letter. She has at last

received the Chantilly brass. Good night: write to me from one

end of the world to t'other. Yours ever.

(197) A large old house, two miles from the seat of Sir

Arthur Acheson, near Market-hill, and the scene of Swift's

humorous poem, "The Grand Question debated, whether

Hamilton's Bawn should be turned into a barrack or a malt-

house."-E.

(198) Afterwards Sir Horace Mann. He was at this time

resident at Florence from George II.

(199) Henrietta Louisa, wife of Thomas Earl of Pomfret. [She was

the daughter of John Lord Jefferies, Baron of Wem. Lady Pomfret,

who was the friend and correspondent of Frances

Duchess of Somerset, retired from the court upon the death of

Queen Caroline in 1737.]

(200) Afterwards married to John Lord Carteret, who became Earl

of Granville on the death of his mother in the year 1744.

(201) Lady Charlotte Fermor married, in August 1746, William

Finch, brother of Daniel seventh Earl of Winchelsea, by whom she

had issue a son, George, who, on the death of his uncle, in 1769,

succeeded to the earldom. Her ladyship was governess to the

children of George III., and highly esteemcd by him and his royal

consort.-E.

(202) The Princess Craon was the favourite mistress of

Leopold the last Duke of Lorrain, who married her to M. de

Beauveau, and prevailed on the Emperor to make him a prince of

the empire. They at this time resided at Florence, where Prince

Craon was at the head of the council of regency.

(203) This was a party ballad (written by Glover, though by some

at the time ascribed to Lord Bath,) on the taking of

Porto-Bello by Admiral Vernon. "The case of Hosier," says

Bishop Percy, in his admirable Reliques, vol. ii. p. 382,

where the song is preserved, "The case of Hosier, which is here

so pathetically represented, was briefly this. In

April 1726, that commander was sent with a strong fleet into the

Spanish West Indies to block up the galleons in the port of that

country, or, should they presume to come out, to

seize and carry them to England: he accordingly arrived at

Bastimentos, near Porto-Bello; but, being employed rather to

overawe than attack the Spaniards, with whom it was probably not

our interest to go to war, he continued long inactive on this

station. He afterwards removed to Carthagena, and

remained crusing in those seas, till the greater part of his men

perished deplorably by the diseases of that unhealthy

Climate. This brave man, seeing his best officers and men thus

daily swept away, his ships exposed to inevitable

destruction, and himself made the sport of the enemy, is

said to have died of a broken heart.-E.

(204) Philip Yorke Lord Hardwicke was the son of an attorney at

Dover, and was introduced by the Duke of Newcastle to Sir Robert

Walpole. He was attorney-general, and when Talbot, the

solicitor-general, was preferred to him in the contest for the

chancellorship, Sir Robert made him chief justice

for life, with an increased salary. He was an object of

aversion to Horace Walpole, who, in his Memoirs, tells us, "in

the House of Lords, he was laughed at, in the cabinet

despised." Upon which it is very properly observed by the

noble editor of those memoirs, Lord Hollan,-"Yet, in the

course of the work, Walpole laments Lord Hardwicke's

influence in the cabinet, where he would have us believe

that he was despised, and acknowledges that he exercised a

dominion nearly absolute over that house of Parliament

which, he would persuade his readers, laughed at him. The truth

is, that, wherever this great magistrate is mentioned, Lord

Orford's resentments blind his judgment and disfigure his

narrative."-E.

(205) charles Talbot baron Talbot was, on the 29th Nov.

1733, made lord high chancellor and created a baron; and,

dying in Feb. 1737, was succeeded by Lord Hardwicke. There is a

story current, that Sir Robert Walpole, finding it

difficult to prevail on Yorke to quit a place for life, for the

higher but more precarious dignity of chancellor, worked upon his

jealousy, and said that if he persisted in refusing the seals, he

must offer them to Fazakerly. "Fazakerly!"

exclaimed Yorke, "impossible! he is certainly a Tory,

perhaps a Jacobite." "It's all very true," replied Sir

Robert, taking out his watch; " but if by one o'clock you do not

accept my offer, Fazakerly by two becomes lord keeper of the

great seal, and one of the staunchest Whigs in all

England!" Yorke took the seals and the peerage.-E.

(206) That of Grey, Duke of Kent, see avove.-E.

(207) Miss Jane Conway, half-sister to Henry Seymour Conway. She

died unmarried in 1749.

(208) Afterwirds married to John Harris, Esq. of

Hayne in Devonshire.

159 Letter 25

To Richard West, Esq.

Florence, July 31, 1740, N. S.

Dear West,

I have advised with the most notable antiquarians of this city on

the meaning of Thur gut Luetis. I can get no satisfactory

interpretation. In my own opinion 'tis Welsh. I don't love

offering conjectures on a language in which I have hitherto made

little proficiency, but I will trust you with my

explication. You know the famous Aglaughlan, mother of

Cadwalladhor, was renowned for her conjugal virtues, and grief on

the death of her royal spouse. I conclude this medal was struck

in her regency, by her express order, to the memory of her lord,

and that the inscription Thur gut Luetis means no more than her

dear Llewis or Llewellin.

In return for your coins I send you two or three of different

kinds. The first is a money of one of the kings of Naples; the

device, a horse; the motto, Equitas regni. This curious pun is

on a coin in the Great Duke's collection, and by great chance I

have met with a second. Another is, a satirical

medal struck on Lewis XIV.; 'tis a bomb, covered with

flower-de-luces, bursting; the motto, Se ipsissimo. The last,

and almost the only one I ever saw with a text well applied, is a

German medal with a Rebellious town besieged and blocked up; the

inscription, This kind is not expelled but by fasting.

Now I mention medals, have they yet struck the intended one on

the taking of Porto-Bello? Admiral Vernon will shine in our

medallic history. We have just received the news of the

bombarding Carthagena, and the taking Chagre. (209) We are in

great expectation of some important victory obtained by the

squadron under Sir John Norris. we are told the Duke is to be of

the expedition; is it true? (210) All the letters, too, talk of

France suddenly declaring war; I hope they will defer it for a

season, or one shall be obliged to return through Germany.

The conclave still subsists, and the divisions still increase; it

was very near separating last week, but by breaking into two

popes; they were on the dawn of a schism. Aldovrandi had

thirty-three voices for three days, but could not procure the

requisite two more; the Camerlingo having engaged his faction to

sign a protestation against him and each party were

inclined to elect. I don't know whether one should wish for a

schism or not; it might probably rekindle the zeal for the church

in the powers of Europe which has been so far decaying.

On Wednesday we expect a third she-meteor. Those learned

luminaries the Ladies Pomfret and Walpole are to be joined by the

Lady Mary Wortley Montague. You have not been witness to the

rhapsody of mystic nonsense which these two fair ones

debate incessantly, and consequently cannot figure what must be

the issue of this triple alliance: we have some idea of it. Only

figure the coalition of prudery, debauchery, sentiment, history,

Greek, Latin, French, Italian, and metaphysics; all, except the

second, understood by halves, by quarters, or not at all. You

shall have the journals of this notable academy. Adieu, my dear

West! Yours ever,

Hor. Walpole.

Though far unworthy to enter into so learned and political a

correspondence, I am employed pour barbouiller une page

de 7 pounces et demie en hauteur, et `a en largeur; and to inform

you that we are at Florence, a city of Italy, and the capital of

Tuscany: the latitude I cannot justly tell, but it is governed by

a prince called Great Duke; an excellent place to employ all

one's animal sensations in, but utterly contrary to one's

rational powers. I have struck a medal upon myself: the device

is thus 0, and the motto Nihilissimo, which I take in the most

concise manner to contain a full account of my person,

sentiments, occupations, and late glorious successes. If you

choose to be annihilated too, you cannot do better than undertake

this journey. Here you shall get up at twelve

o'clock, breakfast till three, dine till five, sleep till six,

drink cooling liquors till eight, go to the bridge till ten, sup

till two, and so sleep till twelve again.

Lahore fessi venimus ad larem nostrum,

Desideratoque acquiescimus lecto;

Hoc est, quod unum est, pro laborious tantis.

O quid solutis est beatius curis?

We shall never come home again; a universal war is just upon the

point of breaking out; all outlets will be

shut up. I shall be secure in my nothingness, while you, that

will be so absurd as to exist, will envy me. You don't tell me

what proficiency you make in the noble science of defence. Don't

you start still at the sound of a gun? Have you learned to say

ha! ha! and is your neck clothed with thunder? Are your whiskers

of a tolerable length? And have you got drunk yet with brandy and

gunpowders? Adieu, noble captain!

T. GRAY.

(209) On the 24th March, 1740, the Spaniards hung out a white

flag, and the place was surrendered by capitulation to Admiral

Vernon.-E.

(210) The Duke of Cumberland had resolved to accompany Sir John

Norris as a volunteer, and sailed with him from St.

Helens on the 10th June; but on the 17th a gale arising drove

them into Torbay, Where Sir John continued until the 29th, when

he again put to sea; but the wind once more becoming

contrary, and blowing very hard, he was constrained to return to

Spithead, and on the following day his royal highness

returned to London.-E.

161 Letter 26

To The Hon. H. S. Conway.

Florence, September 25, 1740, N. S.

My dear Hal,

I begin to answer your letter the moment I have read it,

because you bid me; but I grow so unfit for a correspondence with

any body in England, that I have almost left it off. 'Tis so

long since I was there, and I am so utterly a stranger to every

thing that passes there, that I must talk vastly in the dark to

those I write: and having in a manner settled

myself here, where there can be no news, I am void of all

matter for filling up a letter. As, by the absence of the Great

Duke, Florence is become in a manner a country town, YOU may

imagine that we are not without dem`el`es; but for a

country town I believe there never were a set of people so

peaceable, and such strangers to scandal. 'Tis the family of

love, where every body is paired, and go as constantly

together as paroquets. Here nobody hangs or drowns

themselves; they are not ready to cut one another's throats about

elections or parties; don't think that wit consists in saying

bold truths, or humour in getting

drunk. But I shall give you no more of their characters,

because I am so unfortunate as to think that their encomium

consists in being the reverse of the English, who in general are

either mad, or enough to make other people so. After

telling you so fairly my sentiments, you may believe, my dear

Harry, that I had rather see you here than in England. 'Tis an

evil wish for you, who should not be lost in so obscure a place

as this. I will not make you compliments, or else here is a

charming opportunity for saying what I think of you. As I am

convinced you love me, and as I am conscious you have One strong

reason for it, I will own to you, that for my own peace you

should wish me to remain here. I am so well within and without,

that you would scarce know me: I am younger than ever, think of

nothing but diverting myself, and live in a round of pleasures.

We have operas, concerts, and balls,

mornings and evenings. I dare not tell you all One's

idleness: you would look so grave and senatorial at hearing that

one rises at eleven in the morning, goes to the opera at nine at

night, to supper at one, and to bed at three! But

literally here the evenings and nights are so charming and so

warm, one can't avoid 'em.

Did I tell you Lady Mary Wortley is here? She laughs at my Lady

Walpole, scolds my Lady Pomfret, and is laughed at by the whole

town. (211) Her dress, her avarice, and her impudence must amaze

any one that never heard her name. She wears a foul mob, that

does not cover her greasy black locks, that hang loose, never

combed or curled; an old mazarine blue

wrapper, that gapes open and discovers a canvass petticoat. Her

face swelled violently on one side with the remains of a-, partly

covered with a plaster, and partlv with white paint, which for

cheapness she has bought so coarse, that you would not use it to

wash a chimney.-In three words I will give you her picture (212)

as we drew it in the Sortes Virgilianae-

Insanam vatem aepicies.

I give you my honour, we did not choose it; but Mr. Gray, Mr.

Cooke, (213) Sir Francis Dashwood, (214) and I, and several

others, drew it fairly amongst a thousand for different

people, most of which did not hit as you may imagine: those that

did I will tell you.

For our most religious and gracious-

-Dii, talem terris avertite pestem.

For one that would be our most religious and gracious.

Purpureus veluti cum flos succisus aratro

Languescit moriens, lassove papavera collo

Demis`ere caput, pluvia cum fort`e gravantur.

For his son.

Regis Romani: primus qui legibus urbem Fundabit, Curibus

parvis et paupere terra, Missus in imperium magnum.

For Sir Robert.

Res dura et regni novitas me talia cogunt Moliri, et late

fines custode tueri.

I will show you the rest when I see you.

(211) In a letter from Florence, written by Lady Mary to Mr.

Wortley, on the 11th of August, she says, "Lord and Lady

Pomfret take pains to make the place agreeable to me, and I have

been visited by the greatest part of the people of

quality." See the edition of her works, edited by Lord

Wharncliffe, vol. ii. p. 325.-E.

(212) The following favourable picture" of Lady Mary is by

Spence, who met her at Rome, in the ensuing January:-" She is one

of the most shining characters in the world, but shines like a

comet; she is all irregularity, and always wandering; the most

wise, most imprudent; loveliest, most disagreeable; best-natured,

cruellest woman in the world; 'all things by turns, and nothing

long.'"-E.

(213) George Cooke, Esq. afterwards member for Tregony, and chief

prothonotary in the Court of Common Pleas. On Mr.

Pitt's return to office in 1766 he was appointed joint

paymaster-general, and died in 1768. See Chatham

Correspondence, vol. ii. p. 338.-E.

(214) Sir Francis Dashwood, who, on the death of John Earl of

Westmoreland, succeeded to the barony of Le Despencer, as

being the only son of Mary, eldest sister of the said Earl, and

which was confirmed to him 19th April'1763.-E.

163 Letter 27

To Sir Richard West, Esq.

Florence, Oct. 2, 1740, N. S.

Dear West,

T'other night as we (you know who we are) were walking on

the charming bridge, just before going to a wedding assembly, we

said, Lord, I wish, just as we are got into the room, they would

call us out, and say, West is arrived! We would make him dress

instantly, and carry him back to the entertainment. How he would

stare and wonder at a thousand things, that no longer strike us

as odd!" Would not you? One agreed that you should come directly

by sea from Dover, and be set down at Leghorn, without setting

foot in any other foreign town, and so land at Us, in all your

first full amaze; for you are to know, that astonishment rubs off

violently; we did not cry out Lord! half so much at Rome as at

Calais, which to this hour I look upon as one of the most

surprising cities in the

universe. My dear child, what if you were to take this little

sea-jaunt? One would recommend Sir John Norris's convoy to you,

but one should be laughed at now for supposing that he is ever to

sail beyond Torbay.(215) The Italians take Torbay for an English

town in the hands of the Spaniards, after the

fashion of Gibraltar, and imagine 'tis a wonderful strong

place, by our fleet's having retired from before it so often, and

so often returned. We went to this wedding that I told you of;

'twas a charming feast: a large palace finely

illuminated; there were all the beauties, all the jewels, and all

the sugarplums of Florence. Servants loaded with great chargers

full of comfits heap the tables with them, the women fall on with

both hands, and stuff their pockets and every creek and corner

about them. You would be as much amazed at us as at any thing

you saw: instead of being deep in the arts, and being in the

Gallery every morning, as I thought

of course to be sure I would be, we are in all the idleness and

amusements of the town. For me, I am grown so lazy, and so

tired-of seeing sights, that, though I have been at

Florence six months, I have not seen Leghorn, Pisa, Lucca, or

Pistoia; nay, not so much as one of the Great Duke's

villas. I have contracted so great an aversion to

postchaises, and have so absolutely lost all curiosity, that,

except the towns in the straight road to Great Britain, I

shall scarce see a jot more of a foreign land; and trust me, when

I returt), I will not visit the Welsh mountains, like Mr.

Williams. After Mount Cenis, the Boccheto, the Giogo,

Radicofani, and the Appian Way, one has mighty little hunger

after travelling. I shall be mighty apt to set up my staff at

Hyde Park corner: the alehouseman there at Hercules's

Pillars(216) was certainly returned from his travels into

foreign parts.

Now I'll answer your questions.

I have made no discoveries in ancient or modern arts. Mr.

Addison travelled through the poets, and not through Italy; for

all his ideas are borrowed from the descriptions, and not from

the reality. He saw places as they were, not as they are. I am

very well acquainted with Dr. Cocchi; (217) he is a good sort of

man, rather than a great man; he is a plain

honest creature, with quiet knowledge, but I dare say all the

English have told you, he has a very particular understanding: I

really don't believe they meant to impose on you, for they

thought so. As to Bondelmonti, he is much less; he is a low

mimic; the brightest cast of his parts attains to the

composition of a sonnet: he talks irreligion with- English boys,

sentiment with my sister, (218) and bad French with any one that

will hear him. I will transcribe you a little song that he made

t'other day; 'tis pretty enough; Gray turned it into Latin, and I

into English; you will honour him highly by putting it into

French, and Asheton into Greek. Here 'tis.

Spesso Amor sotto la forma

D'amista ride, e s'asconde;

Poi si mischia, e si confonde

Con lo sdegno e col rancor.

In pietade ei si trasforma,

Pas trastullo e par dispetto;

ma nel suo diverso aspetto,

Sempre egli `a l'istesso Amor.

Risit amicitiae interd`um velatus amictu,

Et ben`e composit`a veste fefellit Amor:

Mox irae assumpsit cultus faciemque minantem,

Inque odium versus, versus et in lacrymas:

Ludentem fuge, nec lacrymanti aut furenti;

Idem est dissimili semper in ore Deus.

Love often in the comely mien

Of friendship fancies to be seen;

Soon again he shifts his dress,

And wears disdain and rancour's face.

To gentle pity then he changes-

Thro' wantonness, thro' piques he ranges;

But in whatever shape he moves,

He's still himself, and still is Love.

See how we trifle! but one can't pass one's youth too

amusingly for one must grow old, and that in England; two

most serious circumstances, either of which makes people

gray in the twinkling of a bedstaff; for know you there is not a

country upon earth where there are so many old fools and so few

young ones.

Now I proceed in my answers.

I made but small collections, and have only bought some

bronzes and medals, a few busts, and two or three pictures: one

of my busts is to be mentioned; 'tis the famous

vespasian in touchstone, reckoned the best in Rome, except the

Caracalia of the Farnese- I gave but twenty-two POUDds for it at

Cardinal Ottoboni's sale. One of my medals is as great a

curiosity; 'tis of Alexander Severus, with the

amphitheatre in brass; this reverse is extant on medals of his,

but mine is a medagliuncino, or small medallion, and

The Only one with this reverse known in the world: 'twas

found by a peasant while I was in Rome, and sold by him for

sixpence to an antiquarian, to whom I paid for it seven

guineas and a half: but to virtuosi 'tis worth any SUM.

As to Tartini's (219) musical compositions, ask Gray; I know but

little in music.

But for the Academy, I am not of it, but frequently in

company with it: 'tis all disjointed. Madame * * *, who,

though a learned lady, has not lost her modesty and

character, is extremely scandalized with the other two

dames, especially Moll Worthless, who knows no bounds. She is at

rivalry with Lady W. for a certain Mr. * * *, whom

perhaps you knew at Oxford. If you did not, I'll tell you: he is

a grave young man by temper, and a rich one by

constitution; a shallow creature by nature, but a wit by the

grace of our women here, whom he deals with as of old with the

Oxford toasts. He fell into sentiments with my Lady W. and was

happy to catch her at Platonic love; but as she

seldom stops there, the poor man will be frightened out of his

senses when she shall break the matter to him; for he

never dreamt that her purposes were so naught. Lady Mary is so

far gone, that to get him from the mouth of her

antagonist she literally took him out to dance country

dances last night at a formal ball, where there was no

measure kept in laughing at her old, foul, tawdry, painted,

plastered personage. She played at pharaoh two or three

times at Princess Craon's, where she cheats horse and foot. She

is really entertaining: I have been reading her works, which she

lends out in manuscript, but they are too

womanish: I like few of her performances. I forgot to tell you a

good answer of Lady Pomfret to mr. W. *** who asked

her if she did not approve Platonic love. "Lord, sir," says she,

, "I am sure any one that knows me never heard that I had any

love but one, and there sit two proofs of it,"

pointing to her two daughters.

So I have given you a sketch of our employments, and

answered your questions, and will with pleasure as many more as

you have about you. Adieu! Was ever such a lon@ letter? But 'tis

nothing to what I shall have to say to you. I

shaft scold you for never telling us any news, public or

private, no deaths, riiarriages, or mishaps; no account of new

books: Oh, you are abominable! I could find it in my

heart to hate You if I did not love you so well; but we will

quarrel now, that we may be the better friends when we meet:

there is no danger of that, is there? Good night, whether

friend or foe! I am most sincerely Yours.

(215) Though brave, skilful, and enterprising Sir John

failed to acquire renown, in consequence of mere

accidents. On the breaking out of the Spanish war, he was

ordered to cruise in the Bay of Biscay; but, owing to

tempestuous weather, was compelled to put into port for the

winter. The following lines were addressed to him upon this

occasion:

"Homeward, oh! bend thy course; the seas are rough;

To the Land's End who sails has sailed enough." E.

(216) Walpole calls the Hercules' Pillars an

alehouse. Whatever it might have been at the period he

wrote, it is very certain that, after the peace of 1762, it was a

respectable tavern, where the Marquis of Granby, and other

persons of rank, particularly military men, had

frequent dinner parties, which were then fashionable. It

was also an inn of great repute among the west-country

gentlemen, coming to London for a few weeks, who thought

themselves fortunate if they could secure accommodations for

their families at the Hercules' Pillars. The spot where it once

stood, is now occupied by the noble mansion of the Duke of

Wellington.-E.

(217) Dr. Antonio Cocchi, a learned physician, resident at

Florence, who published a collection of Greek writers upon

medicine. He figures conspicuously in Spence's

Anecdotes.-E.

(218) Margaret Rolle, wife of Robert Walpole, eldest son of Sir

Robert Walpole, created Lord Walpole during the lifetime of his

father.

(219) Giuseppe Tartini of Padua, whom Viotti pronounced the last

great improver of the practice of the violin. Several of

Tartini's compositions are particularized in that amusing little

volume, "The Violin and its Professors," by Mr.

Dubourg, who has recorded in quaint verse the well-known

story of the "Devil's Sonata," a piece of diablerie, the

result of which is that to this day, Tartini's

tale hath made all fiddlers say, A hard sonata is the devil to

play!-E.

166 Letter 28

To Richard West, Esq.

>From Florence, Nov. 1740.

Child, I am going to let you see your shocking proceedings with

us. On my conscience, I believe 'tis three months since you wrote

to either Gray or me. If you had been ill, Ashton would have

said so; and if you had been dead the gazettes

would have said it. If you had been angry,-but that's

impossible; how can one quarrel with folks three thousand

miles off? We are neither divines nor commentators, and

consequently have not hated you on paper. 'Tis to show that my

charity for you cannot be interrupted at this distance

that I write to you, though I have nothing to say, for 'tis a bad

time for small news; and when emperors and czarinas

are dying all up and down Europe, one can't pretend to tell you

of any thing that happens within our sphere. Not but

that we have our accidents too. if you have had a great wind in

England, we have had a great water at Florence. We have been

trying to set out every day, and pop upon you (220) * * * * * It

is fortunate that we stayed, for I don't know what had become of

us! Yesterday, with violent rains, there came flouncing down

from the mountains such a flood that it

floated the whole city. The jewellers on the Old Bridge

removed their commodities, -and in two hours after the

bridge was cracked. The torrent broke down the quays and

drowned several coach-horses, which are kept here in stables

under ground. We were moated into our house all day, which is

near the Arno, and had the miserable spectacles of the

ruins that were washed along with the hurricane. There was a

cart with two oxen not quite dead, and four men in it

drowned: but what was ridiculous, there came tiding along a fat

haycock, with a hen and her eggs, and a cat. The

torrent is considerably abated; but we expect terrible news from

the country, especially from Pisa, which stands so much lower,

and nearer the sea. There is a stone here, which,

when the water overflows, Pisa is entirely flooded. The

water rose two ells yesterday above that stone. Judge!

For this last month we have passed our time but dully; all

diversions silenced on the emperor's death, (221) and

everybody out of town. I have seen nothing but cards and

dull pairs of cicisbeos. I have literally seen so much love and

pharaoh since being here, that I believe I shall never love

either again SO long as I live. Then I am got in a

horrid lazy way of a morning. I don't believe I should know

seven o'clock in the morning again if I was to see it. But I am

returning to England, and shall grow very solemn and

wise! Are you wise'( Dear West, have pity on one who have

done nothing of gravity for these two years, and do laugh

sometimes. We do nothing else, and have contracted such

formidable ideas of the good people of England that we are

already nourishing great black eyebrows and great black

beards, and teasing our countenances into wrinkles. Then

for the common talk of the times, we are quite at a loss,

and for the dress. You would oblige us exceedingly by

forwarding to us the votes of the houses, the king's speech, and

the magazines; or if you had any such thing as a little book

called the Foreigner's Guide through the city of London and the

liberties of Westminster; or a letter to a

Freeholder; or the Political Companion: then 'twoulg be an

infinite obligation if you would neatly band-box up a baby

dressed after the newest Temple fashion now in use at both

play-houses. Alack-a-day! We shall just arrive in the

tempest of elections!

As our departure depends entirely upon the weather, we

cannot tell you to a day when we shall say Dear

West, how glad I am to see you! and all the many questions and

answers that we shall give and take. Would the day were come! Do

but figure to yourself the journey we are to pass through first!

But you can't conceive Alps, Apennines,

Italian inns, and postchaises. I tremble at the thoughts. They

were just sufferable while new and unknown, and as we met them by

the way in coming to Florence, Rome, and Naples; but they are

passed, and the mountains remain! Well, write to one in the

interim; direct to me addressed to Monsieur

Selwyn, chez Monsieur.Ilexandre, Rue St. Apolline, a Paris. If

Mr. Alexandre is not there, the street is, and I believe that

will be sufficient. Adieu, my dear child! Yours ever.

(220) A line of the manuscript is here torn away.

(221) Charles the Sixth, Emperor of Germany, upon whose

death, on the 9th of October, his eldest daughter,

Maria-Theresa, in virtue of the Pragmatic Sanction,

instantly succeeded to the whole Austrian inheritance.-E.

168 Letter 29

To The Rev. Joseph Spence. (222)

Florence, Feb. 21, 1741, N. S.

Sir,

Not having time last post, I begged Mr. Mann to thank you for the

obliging paragraph for me in your letter to him. But as I desire

a nearer correspondence with you than by third hands, I assure

you in my own proper person that I shall have great pleasure, on

our meeting in England, to renew an acquaintance that 'I began

with so much pleasure in Italy. (223) I Will not reckon you

among my modern friends, but in the first article of virtu: you

have given me so many new lights into a science that but a warmth

and freedom that will flow from my friendship, and which will not

be contained within the circle of a severe awe. As I shall always

be attentive to give you any satisfaction that lies in my power,

I take the first opportunity of sending you two little poems,

both by a hand that I know you esteem the most; if you have not

seen them, you will thank me for lilies of Mr. Pope: if you have,

why I did not know it.

I don't know whether Lord Lincoln has received any orders to

return home: I had a letter from one of my brothers last

post to tell me from Sir Robert that he would have me leave Italy

as soon as possible, lest I should be shut up unawares by the

arrival of the Spanish troops; and that I might pass some time in

France if I had amind. I own I don't conceive how it is possible

these troops should arrive without its being known some time

before. And as to the Great Duke's dominions, one can always be

out of them in ten hours or less. If Lord Lincoln has not

received the same orders.. I shall believe what I now think, that

I am wanted for some other reason. I beg my kind love to Lord

Lincoln, and that Mr. Spence will believe me, his sincere humble

servant HOR. WALPOLE.

(222) The well-known friend of Pope and author of the

Polymetis, who was then travelling on the Continent with

Henry, Earl of Lincoln, afterwards Duke of Newcastle. See ante

p. 140, (Letter 14, and footnote 175).-E.

(223) This acquaintance proved of infinite service to

Walpole, shortly after the date of this letter, when he was laid

up with a quinsy at Reggio. Spence thus describes the

circumstance: "About three or four in the morning I was

surprised with a message, saying that Mr. Walpole was very much

worse, and desired to see me; I went, and found him

scarce able to speak. I soon learned from his servants that he

had been all the while without a physician, and had

doctored himself; so I immediately sent for the best aid the

place would afford, and despatched a messenger to the

minister at Florence, desiring him to send my friend Dr. Cocchi.

In about twenty-four hours I had the satisfaction to find Mr.

Walpole better: we left him in a fair way of recovery, and we

hope to see him next week at Venice. I had obtained leave of

Lord Lincoln to stay behind some days if he had been worse. You

see what luck one has sometimes in going out of one's way. If

Lord Lincoln had not wandered to

Reggio, Mr. Walpole (who is one of the best-natured and most

sensible young gentlemen England affords) would have, in all

probability, fallen a sacrifice to his disorder."-E.

169 Letter 30

To The Hon. H. S. Conway.

Florence, March 25th, 1741, N. S.

Dear Hal,

You must judge by what you feel yourself of what I feel for

Selwyn's recovery, with the addition of what I have suffered from

post to post. But as I find the whole town have had the same

sentiments about him, (though I am sure few so strong as myself,)

I will not repeat what you have heard so much. I shall write to

him to-night, though he knows without my

telling him how very much I love him. To you, my dear Harry, I

am infinitely obliged for the three successive letters you wrote

me about him, which gave me double pleasure, as they showed your

attention for me at a time that you know I must be so unhappy;

and your friendship for him. Your account of Sir Robert's

victory (224) was so extremely well told, that I made Gray

translate it into French, and have showed it to all that could

taste It, or were inquisitive on the occasion. I have received a

print by this post that diverts me extremely; 'the Motion.' (225)

Tell me, dear, now, who made the design, and who took the

likenesses; they are admirable: the lines are as good as one sees

on such occasions. I wrote last post to Sir Robert, to wish him

joy; I hope he received my letter.

I was to have set out last Tuesday, but on Sunday came the news

of the Queen of Hungary being brought to bed of a son; (226) on

which occasion here will be great triumphs, operas and

masquerades, which detain me for a short time.

I won't make you any excuse for sending you the follOWing

lines; you have prejudice enough for me to read with patience any

Of My idlenesses. (227)

My dear Harry, you enrage me with talking of another journey to

Ireland; it will shock me if I don't find you at my return: pray

take care and be in England.

I wait with some patience to see Dr. Middleton's Tully, as I read

the greatest part of it in manuscript; though indeed 'tis rather

a reason for my being impatient to read the rest. If Tully can

receive any additional honour, Dr. Middleton is most capable of

conferring it. (228)

I receivc with great pleasure any remembrances of my lord and

your sisters; I long to see all of you. Patapan is so

handsome that he has been named the silver fleece; and there is a

new order of knighthood to be erected to his honour, in

opposition to the golden. Precedents are searching, and plans

drawing up for that purpose. I hear that the natives pretend to

be companions, upon the authority of their dogskin

waistcoats; but a council that has been held on purpose has

declared their pretensions impertinent. Patapan has lately taken

wife unto him, as ugly as he is genteel, but of a very great

family, being the direct heiress of Canis Scaliger, Lord of

Verona: which principality we design to seize `a la

Prussienne; that is, as soon as ever we shall have persuaded the

republic of Venice that we are the best friends they have in the

world. Adieu, dear child!

Yours ever.

P. S. I left my subscriptions for Middleton's Tully with Mr.

Selwyn; I won't trouble him, but I wish you would take care and

get the books, if Mr. S. has kept the list.

(224) On the event of Mr. Sandys' motion in the House of

commons to remove Sir Robert Walpole from the King's presence and

councils for ever. [The motion was negatived by 290

against 106: an unusual majority, which proceeded from the schism

between the Tories and the Whigs, and the secession of Shippen

and his friends. The same motion was made by

Lord-Carteret in the House of Lords, and negatived by 108

against 59.-E.)

(225) The print alluded to exhibits an interesting view of

Whitehall, the Treasury, and adjoining buildings, as they

stood at the time. The Earl of Chesterfield, as postilion of a

coach which is going full speed towards the Treasury, drives over

all in his way. The Duke of Argyle is coachman,

flourishing a sword instead of a whip; while Doddington is

represented as a spaniel, sitting between his legs. Lord

Carteret, perceiving the coach about to be overturned, is

calling to the coachman,"Let me get out!" Lord Cobbam, as the

footman, is holding fast on by the straps; while Lord

Lyttleton is ambling by the side on a rosinante as thin as

himself. Smallbrook, Bishop of Lichfield, is bowing

obsequiously as they pass; while Sandys, letting fall the

place-bill, exclaims, ,I thought what would come of putting him

on the box." In the foreground is Pulteney, leading

several figures by strings from their noses, and wheeling a

barrow filled with the Craftsman's Letters, Champion, State of

the Nation, and Common Sense, exclaiming, "Zounds, they are

over!" This caricature, and another, entitled " The Political

Libertines, or Motion upon Motion," had been provoked by one put

forth by Sir Robert Walpole's opponents, entitled "The Grounds

for the Motion;" and were followed up by another from the

supporters of Sandys' motion, entitled "The Motive or

Reason for his Triumph," which the caricaturist attributes

entirely to bribery.-E.

(226) Afterwards Joseph the Second, emperor of Germany.-E.

(227) Here follows the Inscription for the neglected column in

the place of St. Mark, at Florence, afterwards printed in the

Fugitive Pieces.

(228) Dr. Middleton's "History of the Life of Cicero" was

published in the early part of this year, by subscription, and

dedicated to Pope's enemy, Lord Hervey. This laboured

encomium on his lordship obtained for the doctor a niche in the

Dunciad:-

Narcissus, praised with all a Parson's power,

Look'd a white lily sunk beneath a shower."-E.

170 Letter 31

To Richard West, Esq.

Reggio, May 1 1741, N. S.

Dear West,

I have received the end of your first act, (229) and now will

tell you sincerely what I think of it. If I was not so

pleased with the beginning as I usually am with your

compositions, believe me the part of Pausanias has charmed me.

There is all imaginable art joined with all requisite

simplicity: and a simplicity, I think, much preferable to that in

the scenes of Cleodora and Argilius. Forgive me, if I say they

do not talk laconic but low English in her, who is

Persian too, there would admit more heroic. But for the whole

part of Pausanias, 'tis great and well worried up, and the art

that is seen seems to proceed from his head, not from the

author's. As I am very desirous you should continue, so I own I

wish you would improve or change the beginning: those who know

you not so well as I do, would not wait with so much

patience for the entrance of Pausanias. You see I am frank; and

if I tell you I do not approve of the first part, you may believe

me as sincere when I tell you I admire the latter

extremely.

My letter has an odd date. You would not expect I should be

writing in such a dirty place as Reggio: but the fair is

charming; and here come all the nobility of Lombardy, and all the

broken dialects of Genoa, Milan, Venice, Bologna, etc. You never

heard such a ridiculous confusion of tongues. All the morning

one goes to the fair undressed, as to the walks of Tunbridge:

'tis Just in that manner, with lotteries, raffles, etc. After

dinner all the company return in their coaches, and make a kind

of corso, with the ducal family, who go to shops, where you talk

to 'em, from thence to the opera, in mask if you will, and

afterwards to the ridotto. This five nights in the week, Fridays

there are masquerades, and

Tuesdays balls at the Rivalta, a villa of the Duke's. In

short, one diverts oneself. I pass most part of the opera in the

Duchess's box, who is extremely civil to me and extremely

agreeable. A daughter of the Regent's, (230) that could

please him, must be so. She is not young, though still

handsome, but fat; but has given up her gallantries

cheerfully, and in time, and lives easily with a dull husband,

two dull sisters of his, and a dull court. These two

princesses are wofully ugly, old maids and rich. They might have

been married often; but the old Duke was whimsical and proud, and

never would consent to any match for them, but left them much

money, and pensions of three thousand pounds a year apiece.

There was a design to have given the eldest to this King of

Spain, and the Duke was to have had the Parmesan

princess; so that now he would have had Parma and Placentia,

Joined to Modena, Reggio, Mirandola, and Massa. But there being

a Prince of Asturias, the old Duke Rinaldo broke off the match,

and said his daughter's children should not be younger brothers:

and so they mope old virgins.

I am goin@ from hence to Venice, in a fright

lest there be a war with France, and then I must drag myself

through Germany. We have had an imperfect account of a

sea-fight in America . but we are so out of the way, that one

can't be sure of it. Which way soever I return, I shall be soon

in England, and there you 'will find me again.

As much as ever yours.

(229) of a tragedy called Pausanias, The first act, and

probably all that was ever written by Mr. West. [In the

preceding month West had forwarded to Gray the sketch of this

tragedy, which he appears to have criticised with

much freedom; but Mr. Mason did not find among Gray's papers

either the sketch itself, or the free critique upon it.]

(230) Philip Duke of Orleans.

172 Letter 32

To Sir Horace Mann. (231)

Calais, and Friday, and here I have been these two days, 1741.

Is the wind laid? Shall I Dever get aboard? I came here on

Wednesday night, but found a tempest that has never ceased since.

At Boulogne I left Lord Shrewsbury and his mother, and brothers

and sisters, waiting too: Bulstrode (232) passes his winter at

the court of Boulogne, and then is to travel with two young

Shrewsburys. I was overtaken by Amorevoli and Monticelli, (233)

who are here with me and the Viscontina, and Barberina, and

Abbate Vanneschi (234)-what

a coxcomb! I would have talked to him about the opera, but he

preferred politics. I have wearied Amorevoli with

questions about you. If he was not just come from you, and could

talk to me about you, I should hate him; for, to

flatter me, he told me that I talked Italian better than

you. He did not know how little I think it a compliment to have

any thing preferred to you-besides, you know the

consistence of my Italian! They are all frightened out of their

senses about going on the sea, and are not a little

afraid of the English. They went on board the William and Mary

yacht yesterday, which waits here for Lady Cardigan from Spa.

The captain clapped the door, and swore in broad English that the

Viscontina should not stir till she gave him a song, he did not

care whether it was a catch or a moving ballad; but she would not

submit. I wonder he did! When she came home and told me, I

begged her not to judge of all the English from this specimen;

but, by the way, she will find many

sea-captains that grow on dry land.

Sittinburn, Sept. 13, O. S.

Saturday morning, or yesterday, we did set out, and after a good

passage of four hours and a half, landed at Dover. I begin to

count my comforts, for I find their contraries

thicken on my apprehension. I have, at least, done for a

while with postchaises. My trunks were a little opened at

Calais, and they would have stopped my medals, but with much ado

and much three louis's they let them pass. At Dover I found the

benefit of the motions (235) having miscarried last year, for

they respected Sir Robert's son even in the person of his trunks.

I came over in a yacht with East India

captains' widows, a Catholic girl, coming from a convent to be

married, with an Irish priest to guard her, who says he

studied medicines for two years, and after that he studied

learning for two years more. I have not brought over a word of

French or Italian for common use; I have so taken pains to avoid

affectation in this point, that I have failed Only now and then

in a chi`a l`a! to the servants, who I

can scarce persuade myself yet are English. The

COUntry-town (and you will believe me, who, you know, am not

prejudiced) delights me; the populousness, the ease, the

gaiety, and well-dressed every body amaze me. Canterbury, which

on my setting out I thought deplorable, is a paradise, (236) to

Modena, Reggio, Parma, etc. I had before discovered that there

was nowhere but in England the distinction of

middling people; I perceive now, that there is peculiar to us

middling houses: how snug they are! I write to-night

because I have time; to-morrow I get to London just as the post

goes. Sir Robert is at Houghton. Good night till

another post. You are quite well I

trust, but tell me so always. My loves to the Chutes (237) and

all the etc.'s.

Oh! a story of Mr. Pope and the prince:-"Mr. Pope, you don't love

princes." "Sir, I beg your pardon." "Well, you don't love

kings, then!""Sir, I own I love the lion best

before his claws are grown." Was it possible to make a

better answer to such simple questions? Adieu! my dearest child!

Yours, ten thousand times over.

P. S. Patapan does not seem to regret his own country.

(231) This is the first of the series of letters

addressed by Walpole to Sir Horace Man, British envoy at

the court of Tuscany. The following prefatory note,

entitled "Advertisement by the Author," explains the views which

led Walpole to preserve them for publication:-

"The following Collection of Letters, written

very carelessly by a young man, had been preserved by the

person to whom they were addressed. The author, some years after

the date of the first, borrowed them, on account of

some anecdotes interspersed. On the perusal, among many

trifling relations and stories, which were only of

consequence or amusing to the two persons concerned in the

correspondence, he found some facts, characters, and news, which,

though below the dignity of history, might prove

entertaining to many other people: and knoing how much

pleasure, not only himself, but many other persons have

found in a series of private and familiar letters, he

thought it worth his while to preserve these, as they

contain something of the customs, fashions, politics,

diversions, and private history of several

years; which, if worthy of any existence, can be properly

transmitted to posterity only in this manner.

"The reader will find a few pieces of intelligence which did not

prove true; but which are retained here as the author

heard and related them, lest correction should spoil the

simple air of the narrative.* When the letters

were written, they were never intended for public

inspection; and now they are far from being thought correct, or

more authentic than the general turn of epistolary

correspondence admits. The author would sooner have burnt them

than have taken the trouble to correct such errant

trifles, which are here presented to the reader, with scarce any

variation or omissions, but what private friendships and private

history, or the great haste with which the letters were written,

made indispensably necessary, as will plainly appear, not only by

the unavoidable chasms, where the

originals were worn out or torn away,

but by many idle relations and injudicious remarks and

prejudices of a young man; for which @the only excuse the

author can pretend to make, is, that as some future reader may

possibly be as young as he was when he first wrote, he hopes they

may be amused with what graver people (if into such hands they

should fall) will very justly despise. Who ever has patience to

peruse the series, will find, perhaps, that as the author grew

older, some of his faults became less striking."

* They are marked in the notes.

(232) Tutor to the young Earl of Shrewsbury. [.Charles

Talbot, fifteenth Earl of Shrewsbury, born December 1719. He

married, in 1753, Elizabeth, daughter of the Hon. John Dormer,

afterwards Lord Dormer, and died in

1787, without issue.]

(233) Italian singers. [Angelo Maria Monticelli, a celebrated

singer of the same class as Veluti, was born at Milan in 1715,

and first attained the celebrity which he enjoyed by singing with

Mingotti at the Royal Opera at Naples in 1746. After visiting

most of the cities of the Continent, he was induced by the favour

with which he was received at Dresden to make that city his

residence, until his death in 1764. Is the name of Amorevoli,

borne by one of the first singers of that

day, an assumed one, or an instance of name fatality?

Certain it is,that Amorevole is a technical term in music

somewhat analogous in its signification with Amabile and

Amoroso.]

(234) An Italian abb`e, who directed and wrote the

operas under the protection of Lord Middlesex.

(235) The motion in both houses of Parliament,

1740, for removing Sir Robert Walpole from the King's

councils. [See ante, p. 169 (Letter 30).)

(236) ("On! On! through meadows, managed like a garden,

A paradise of hops and high production;

For, after years of travel by a bard in

Countries of greater heat, but lesser suction,

A green field is a sight which makes him pardon

The absence of that more sublime construction,

Which mixes up vines, olives, precipices,

Glaciers, volcanos, oranges, and ices."-Byron, 1823.)

(237) John Chute and Francis Whithed, Esqrs.

two great friendls of Mr. W.'s, whom he had left at Florence,

where he had been himself thirteen months, in the house of Mr.

Mann, his relation and particular friend.

174 Letter 33

To Sir Horace Mann.

[The beginning of this letter is lost.)

****I had written and sealed my letter, but have since

received another from you, dated Sept. 24. I read Sir Robert your

account of Corsica; he seems to like hearing any account sent

this way-indeed, they seem to have more superficial

relations in general than I could have believed! You will

oblige me, too, with any farther account of Bianca Colonna: (238)

it is romantic, her history!

I am infinitely obliged to Mr. Chute for his kindness to me, and

still more for his friendship to you. You cannot think how happy

I am to hear that you are to keep him longer. You do not mention

his having received my letter from Paris: I directed it to him,

recommended to you. I would not have him think me capable of

neglecting to answer his letter, which obliged me so much. I

will deliver Amorevoli his letter the first time I see him.

Lord Islay (239) dined here; I mentioned Stosch's (240)

Maltese cats. Lord Islay begged I would write to Florence to

have the largest male and female that can be got. If you will

speak to Stosch, you will oblige me: they may come by sea.

You cannot imagine my amazement at your not being

invited to Riccardi's ball; do tell me, when you know, what can

be the meaning of it; it could not be inadvertence-nay, that were

as bad! Adieu my dear child, once more!

(238A kind friend of Joan of Are, who headed the

Corsican rebels against the Genoese.

(239) Archibald Campbell, Earl of Islay, and, on his

brother's death in 1743, Duke of Argyle.

(240) Baron Stosch, a Prussian virtuoso, and spy for

the court of England on the Pretender. He had been driven from

Rome, though it was suspected that he was a spy on both sides: he

was a man of a most infamous character in every

respect. according to the Biographic Universelle, the Baron "ne

put s'acquitter de fonctions aussi d`elicates sans se voir

expos`e `a des naines violentes, qui le forc`erent `a se

retirer `a Florence;" where he died in 1757. He was one of the

most skilful and industrious antiquaries of his time. A

catalogue of his gems was drawn up by Winkelmann.]

175 Letter 34

To The Hon. H. S. Conway.

London, 1741.

My Dearest Harry,

Before I thank you for myself, I must thank you for that

excessive good nature you showed in writing to poor Gray. I am

less impatient to see you, as I find you are not the least

altered, but have the same tender friendly temper you always had.

I wanted much to see if you were still the same-but you are.

Don't think of coming before your brother, he is too good to be

left for any one living: besides, if it is possible, I will see

you in the country. Don't reproach me, and think nothing could

draw me into the country: impatience to see a few

friends has drawn me out of Italy; and Italy, Harry, is

pleasanter than London. As I do not love living en famille so

much as you (but then indeed my family is not like yours), I am

hurried about getting myself a house; for I have so long lived

single, that I do not much take to being confined with my own

family.

You won't find me much altered, I believe; at least,

outwardly. 'I am not grown a bit shorter, or a bit fatter, but

am just the same long lean creature as usual. Then I talk no

French., but to my footman; nor Italian, but to myself. What

inward alterations may have happened to me, you will

discover best; for you know 'tis said, one never knows that one's

self. I will answer, that that part of it that belongs to you,

has not suffered the least change-I took care of that.

For virt`u, I have a little to entertain you: it is my sole

pleasure.-I am neither young enough nor old enough to be in love.

My dear Harry, will you take care and make my compliments to that

charming Lady Conway, (241) who I hear is so charming, and to

Miss Jenny [Conway], who I know is so? As for Miss Anne, (242)

and her love as far as it is decent: tell her, decency is out of

the question between us, that I love her without any restriction.

I settled it yesterday with Miss Conway, that you three are

brothers and sister to me, and that if you had been so, I could

not love you better. I have so many cousins, and uncles and

aunts, and bloods that grow in Norfolk, that if I had portioned

out my affections to them, as they say I should, what a modicum

would have fallen to

each!-So, to avoid fractions, I love my family in you three,

their representatives. (243)

Adieu, my dear Harry! Direct to me at Downing Street.

Good-bye! Yours ever.

(241) Isabella Fitzroy, daughter of Charles Duke of

Grafton. She had been married in May, to(Walpole's maternal

cousin), Francis Seymour Conway, afterwards Earl of Hertford.(

242) Miss Anne conway, youngest sister of Henry Seymour

Conway.

(243) They were first cousins by the mother's side; Francis first

Lord conway having married Charlotte, eldest daughter of John

Shorter of Bybrook in Kent, sister to Catherine Shorter Lady

Walpole.

176 Letter 35

To Sir Horace Mann.

Downing Street, Oct. 8, 1741, O. S.

I have been very near sealing this letter with black wax; Sir

Robert came from Richmond on Sunday night extremely ill, and on

Monday was in great danger. It was an ague and looseness; but

they have stopped the latter, and converted the other into a

fever, which they are curing with the bark. He came out of his

chamber to-day for the first time, and is quite out of danger.

One of the newspapers says, Sir R. W. is so bad that there are no

Hopes of him.

The Pomfrets (244) are arrived; I went this morning to visit my

lord, but did not find him. Lady Sophia is ill, and my earl

(245) still at Paris, not coming. There is no news, nor a soul in

town. One talks of nothing but distempers, like Sir Robert's.

My Lady Townsende (246) was reckoning up the other day the

several things that have cured them; such a doctor so many, such

a medicine, so many; but of all, the greatest

number have found relief from the sudden deaths of their

husbands.

The opera begins the day after the King's birthday: the

singers are not permitted to sing till on the stage, so no one

has heard them, nor have I seen Amorovoli to give him the

letter. The opera is to be on the French system of dancers,

scenes, and dresses. The directors have already laid out

great sums. They talk of a mob to silence the operas, as they

did the French players; but it will be more difficult, for here

half the young noblemen in town are engaged, and they will not be

so easily persuaded to humour the taste of the mobility: in

short, they have already retained several eminent lawyers from

the Bear Garden (247) to plead their defence. I have had a long

visit this morning from Don Benjamin: (248) he is one of the best

kind of agreeable men I ever saw-quite fat and easy, with

universal knowledge: he is in the greatest

esteem at my court.

I am going to trouble you with some commissions. Miss Rich,

(249) who is the finest singer except your sister (250) in the

world, has begged me to get her some music, particularly "the

office of the Virgin of the Seven Sorrows," by Pergolesi,

(251) the "Serva Padrona, il Pastor se torna Aprile," and

"Symplicetta Pastorella." If you can send these easily, you will

much oblige me. Do, too, let me know by your brother, what you

have already laid out for me, that I may pay him.

I was mentioning to Sir Robert some pictures in italy, which I

wished him to buy; two particularly, if they can be got, would

make him delight in you beyond measure. They are, a Madonna, and

Child, by Dominichino, (252) in the palace Zambeccari, at

Boloana, or Caliambec, (253) as they call it; Mr. Chute knows the

picture. The other is by Corregio, in a convent at Parma, and

reckoned the second best of that hand in the world. There are

the Madonna and Child, St. Catherine, St. Matthew, and other

figures: it is a most known picture, and has been

engraved by Augustin Caracei. If you can employ any body

privately to inquire about these pictures, be so good as to let

me know; Sir R. would not scruple almost any price, for he has of

neither hand: the convent is poor: the Zambeccari

collection is to be sold, though, when I inquired after this

picture, they would not set a price.

Lord Euston is to be married to Lady Dorothy Boyle (254)

tomorrow, after so many delays. I have received your long

letter, and Mr. Chute's too, which I will answer next post. I

wish I had the least politics to tell you; but all is silent.

The opposition sav not a syllable, because they don't know what

the Court will think of public 'affairs; and they will not take

their part till they are sure of contradicting. The Court will

not be very ready to declare themselves, as their present

situation is every way disagreeable. All they say, is to throw

the blame entirely on the obstinacy of the Austrian Court, who

-,vould never stir or soften for themselves, while they thought

any one obliged to defend them. All I know of news is, that

Poland is leaning towards the acquisition side, like her

neighbours, and proposes to get a lock of the Golden Fleece too.

Is this any part of Gregory's (255) negotiation? I delight in

his Scapatta--"Scappata, no; egli solamente ha preso la posta."

My service to Seriston; he is charming.

How excessively obliging to go to Madame Grifoni's (256)

festino! but believe me, I shall be angry, if for my sake, you

do things that are out of your character: don't you know that I

am infinitely fonder of that than of her?

I read your story of the Sposa Panciatici at table, to the great

entertainment of the company, and Prince Craon's

epitaph, which Lord Cholmley (257) says he has heard before, and

does not think it is the prince's own; no more do I, it is too

good; but make my compliments of thanks to him; he shall have his

buckles the first opportunity I find of sending them.

Say a thousand things for me to dear Mr. Chute, till I can say

them next post for myself: till then, adieu. Yours ever.

(244) Thomas Earl of Pomfret, and Henrietta Louisa, his

consort, and his two eldest daughters, Sophia and Charlotte, had

been in Italy at the same time with Mr. Walpole. The Earl had

been master of the horse to Queen Caroline, and the

countess lady of the bedchamber.

(245) Henry Earl of Lincoln was at that time in love with Lady

Sophia Fermor.

(246) Ethelreda Harrison, wife of Charles Lord Viscount

Townsend, but parted from him.

(247) Boxers.

(248) Sir Benjamin Keene, ambassador at Madrid.

(249) Elizabeth, eldest daughter of Sir Robert Rich, since

married to Sir George Lyttelton. [Eldest son of sir Thomas

Lyttelton of hagley; in 1744 appointed one of the lords of the

treasury, and in 1755, chancellor of the exchequer. In

1757,when he retired from public life, he was raised to the

peerage, by the title of Lord Lyttelton. He died in 1773. His

prose works were printed collectively in 1774; and his poems have

given him a place among the British poets.]

(250) Mary, daughter of R. Mann, Esq. since married to Mr. Foote.

(251) Better known to all lovers of the works of this great

composer as his " Stabat mater."-E.

(252) It will be seen by Walpole's letter to Mr. Chute, of the

20th August 1743, now first published, that he eventually

succeeded in purchasing this picture.-E.

(253) A corrupted pronunciation of the Bolognese.

(254) This unfortunate marriage is alluded to several times in

the course of the subsequent letters. George Earl of Euston was

the eldest son of Charles the second Duke of Grafton. He

married, in 1741, Lady Dorothy Boyle, eldest daughter and

co-heir of Richard, third and last heir of B(irlington. She died

in 1742, from the effects, as it is supposed, of his

brutal treatment of her. The details of his cruelty towards her

are almost too revolting to be believed. In Sir Charles Hanbury

Williams's poems are some pretty lines on her death, beginning,

"Behold one moment Dorothea's fate."-D.

(255) Gregorio ALdollo, an Asiatic, from being a prisoner at

Leghorn, raised himself to be employed to the Great Duke by the

King of Poland.

(256) Elisabetta Capponi, wife of signor

Grifoni, a great beauty.

(257) George third Earl of Cholmondeley, had married Mary

Walpole, only legitimate daughter of Sir Robert Walpole-D.

178 Letter 36

To Sir Horace Mann.

London, Oct. 13, 1741.

[The greatest part of this letter is wanting.]

**** The Town will come to town, and then one shall know

something. Sir Robert is quite recovered.

Lady Pomfret I saw last night: Lady Sophia has been ill with a

cold; her head is to be dressed French, and her body English, for

which I am sorry; her figure is so fine in a robe: she is full as

sorry as I am. Their trunks are not arrived yet, so they have

not made their appearance. My lady told me a little out of

humour that Uguecioni wrote her word, that you said her things

could not be sent away yet: I understood from you, that very

wisely, you would have nothing to do about them, so made no

answer.

The parliament meets the fifteenth of November. ****

Amorevoli has been with me two hours this evening; he is in

panics about the first night, which is the next after the

birthday.

I have taken a master, not to forget my Italian-don't it look

like returning to Florence'!-some time or other. Good night.

Yours

ever and ever, my dear child.

178 Letter 37

To Sir Horace Mann.

London, Oct. 19, 1741, O. S.

[Great part wanting.]

I write to you up to the head and ears in dirt, straw, and

unpacking. I have been opening all my cases from the

Custom-house the whole morning; and-are not you glad?-every

individual safe and undamaged. I am fitting up an apartment in

Downing Street ***(258) was called in the morning, and was asleep

as soon as his head touched the pillow, for I have

frequently known him snore ere they had drawn his curtains, now

never sleeps above an hour without waking; and he, who at dinner

always forgot he was minister, and was more gay and thoughtless

than all his company, now sits without speaking, and with his

eyes fixed for an hour together. Judge if this is the Sir Robert

you knew.

The politics of the age are entirely suspended; nothing is

mentioned; but this bottling them up, will make them fly out with

the greater violence the moment the parliament meets; till *** a

word to you about this affair.

I am sorry to hear the Venetian journey of the Suares family; it

does not look as if the Teresina was to marry PandOlfini; do you

know, I have set my heart upon that match.

You are very good to the Pucci, to give her that advice,

though I don't suppose she will follow it. The Bolognese

scheme *** In return for Amorevoli's letter, he has given me

two. I fancy it will be troublesome to you; so put his wife into

some other method of correspondence with him.

Do you love puns? A pretty man of the age came into the

playhouse the other night, booted and spurred: says he, "I am

come to see Orpheus"-"And Euridice- You rid I see," replied

another gentleman.

(258) The omissions in these letters marked with stars occur in

the original MS.-D.

179 Letter 38

To Sir Horace Mann.

London, Oct. 22, 1741, O. S.

Your brother has been with me this morning, and we have talked

over your whole affair. He thinks it will be impossible to find

any servant of the capacities you require, that will live with

you under twenty, if not thirty pounds a-year, especially as he

is not to have your clothes: then the expense of the journey to

Florence, and of back again, in case you should not like him,

will be considerable. He is for your taking one from Leghorn;

but I, who know a little more of Leghorn than he does, should be

apprehensive of any person from thence being in the interest of

Goldsworthy, (259) or too attached to the merchants: in short, I

mean, he would be liable to prove a spy upon you. We have agreed

that I shall endeavour to find out a proper man, if such a one

will go to you for twenty pounds a-year, and then you shall ficar

from me. I am very sensible that Palombo (260) is not fit for

you, and shall be extremely diligent in equipping you with such a

one as you want. You know how much I want to be of service to

you even in trifles.

I have been much diverted privately, for it is a secret that not

a hundred persons know yet, and is not to be spoken of. Do but

think on a duel between Winnington (261) and Augustus Townshend;

(262) the latter a pert boy, captain of an

Indiaman; the former declared cicisbeo to my Lady Townshend. The

quarrel was something that Augustus had said of them; for since

she was parted from her husband, she has broke with all his

family. Winnington challenged; they walked into Hyde Park last

Sunday morning, scratched one another's fingers, tumbled into two

ditches-that is Augustus did,-kissed, and walked home together.

The other night at Mrs. Boothby's-

Well, I did believe I should never find time to write to you

again; I was interrupted in my letter last post, and could not

finish it; to-day I came home from the King's levee, where I

Kissed his hand, without going to the drawing-room, on purpose to

finish my letter, and the moment I sat down they let

somebody in. That somebody is gone, and I go on-At Mrs.

Boothby's Lady Townshend was coquetting with Lord Baltimore:

(263) he told her, if she meant any thing with him he was not for

her purpose; if only to make any one jealous, he would throw away

an hour with her with all his heart.

The whole town is to be to-morrow night at Sir Thomas

Robinson's (264) ball, which he gives to a little girl of the

Duke of Richmond's. There are already two hundred invited, from

miss in bib and apron, to my lord chancellor (265) in bib and

mace. You shall hear about it next post.

I wrote you word that Lord Euston is married: in a week more I

believe that I shall write you word that he is divorced. He is

brutal enough; and has forbid Lady Burlington (266) his house,

and that in very ungentle terms. The whole family is in

confusion: the Duke of Grafton half dead. and Lord

Burlington half mad. The latter has challenged Lord Euston, who

accepted the challenge, but they were prevented. There are

different stories: some say that the duel would have been no

breach of consanguinity; others, that there's a contract of

marriage come out in another place, which has had more

consanguinity than ceremony in it: in short, one cannot go into a

room but you hear something of it. Do you not pity the poor

girl? of the softest temper, vast beauty, birth, and

fortune, to be so sacrificed!

The letters from the West Indies are not the most agreeable. You

have heard of the fine river and little town which Vernon took,

and named, the former dugusta, the latter Cumberland. Since

that, they have found out that it is impracticable to take St.

Jago by sea - on which Admiral Vernon and Ogle

insisted that Wentworth, with the land forces, should march to it

by land, which he, by advice of all the land-officers, has

refused; for their march would have been of eighty miles, through

a mountainous, unknown country, full of defiles, where not two

men could march abreast; and they have but four

thousand five hundred men, and twenty-four horses. Quires of

paper from both sides are come over to the council, who are to

determine from hence what is to be done. They have taken a

Spanish man-of-war and a register ship, going to Spain,

immensely valuable.

The parliament does not meet till the first of December, which

relieves me into a little happiness, and gives me a little time

to settle myself. I have unpacked all my things, and have not

had the least thing suffer. I am now only in a

fright about my birthday clothes, which I bespoke at Paris:

Friday is the day, and this is Monday, without any news of them!

I have been two or three times at the play, very unwillingly; for

nothing was ever so bad as the actors, except the company. There

is much in vogue a Mrs. Woffington, (267) a bad actress; but she

has life.

Lord Hartington (268) dines here: it is said (and from his

father's partiality to another person's father, I don't think it

impossible) that he is to marry a certain miss:(269) Lord

Fitzwilliam is supposed another candidate.

Here is a new thing which has been much about town, and liked;

your brother Gale (270) gave me the copy of it:

"Les cours de l'Europe

L'Allemagne craint tout;

L'Autriche risque tout;

La Bavi`ere esp`ere touut;

La Prusse entreprend tout;

La Mayence vend tout;

Le Portugal regarde tout;

L'Angleterre veut faire tout;

L'Espagne embrouille tout;

La Savoye se d`efie de tout;

Le Mercure se m`ele de tout;

La France sch`ete tout;

Les Jesuites se trouvent par tout;

Rome b`enit tout'

Si dieu ne pourvoye `a tout,

Le diable emportera tout."

Good night, my dear child: you never say a word of your own

health; are not you quite recovered? a thousand services to Mr.

Chute and Mr. Whithed, and to all my friends: do they

begin to forget me? I don't them. Yours, ever.

(259) Consul at Leghorn, who was endeavouring to supplant Mr.

Mann.

(260)An Italian, secretary to Mr. Mann.

(261"Winnington," says Walpole, (Memoirs, i. P. 151), "had been

bred a Tory, but had left them in the height of Sir

Robert Walpole's power -. when that minister sunk. he had

injudiciously, and, to please my Lady Townshend, who had then the

greatest influence over him, declined visiting him, in a manner

to offend the steady old Whigs; and his jolly way of laughing.at

his own want of principles had revolted all the graver sort, who

thought deficiency of honesty too sacred and profitable a

commodity to be profaned and turned into

ridicule. He had infinitely more wit than any man I ever

knew, and it was as ready and quick as it was constant and

Unmeditated. His style was a little brutal, his courage not at

all so; his good-humour inexhaustible; it was impossible to hate

or to trust him." Winnington was first Ynade lord of the

admiralty, then of the treasury, then cofferer, and lastly

paymaster of the forces: to which office, on his death in

1746, Mr. Pitt succeeded.-E.

(262) The Hon. Augustus Townshend was second son of the

minister, Lord Townshend, by his second wife, the sister of Sir

Robert Walpole. He was consequently half-brother to

Charles, the third viscount, husband to Ethelreda, Lady

Townshend.-D.

(263) Charles Calvert, sixth Lord Baltimore in Ireland. He was

at this time member of parliament for the borough of St.

Germains, and a lord of the admiralty.-D.

(264) Sir Thomas Robinson, of Rokeby Park, in Yorkshire,

commonly called "Long Sir Thomas," on account of his stature, and

in order to distinguish him from the diplomatist, Sir

Thomas Robinson, afterwards created Lord Grantham. [He has

elsewhere been styled the new Robinson Crusoe by Walpole, who

says, when speaking of him, " He was a tall, uncouth man; and his

stature was often rendered still more remarkable by his

hunting-dress, a postilion's cap, a tight green jacket, and

buckskin breeches. He was liable to sudden whims, and once set

off on a sudden in his hunting suit to visit his sister, who was

married and settled at Paris. He arrived while there was a large

company at dinner. The servant announced M.

Robinson, and he came in to the great amazement of the hosts.

Among others, -a French abb`e thrice lifted his fork to his mouth

and thrice laid it down, with an eager stare of

surprise. Unable to restrain his curiosity any longer, he burst

out with I Excuse me, sir, are you the famous Robinson Crusoe so

remarkable in history?'"]

(265) Philip Yorke, Lord Hardwicke.-D.

(266) Lady Dorothy Savile, eldest daughter and co-heiress of

William second Marquis of Halifax, the mother of the unhappy Lady

Euston.-D.

(267) Margaret Woffington, the celebrated beauty.-D.

(268) William, Marquis of Hartington, afterwards fourth Duke of

Devonshire. He married Lady Charlotte Boyle, second

daughter of Richard, third Earl of Burlington.-D.

(269) Miss Mary Walpole, daughter of Sir Robert Walpole by his

second wife, Maria Skerrett, but born before their marriage.

When her father was made an earl, she had the rank of an

earl's daughter given to her.-D.

(270) Galfridus Mann.

182 Letter 39

To Sir Horace Mann.

London, Nov. 2, 1741.

You shall not hear a word but of balls and public places: this

one week has seen Sir T. Robinson's ball, my lord mayor's, the

birthday, and the opera. There were an hundred and

ninety-seven persons at Sir Thomas's, and yet was it so well

conducted that nobody felt a crowd. He had taken off all his

doors, and so separated the old and the young, that neither were

inconvenienced with the other. The ball began at eight; each man

danced one minuet with his partner, and then began country

dances. There were four-and-twenty couple, divided into twelve

a@d twelve: each set danced two dances, and then retired into

another room, while the other set took their two; and so

alternately. Except Lady Ancram, (271) no married

woman danced; so you see, in England, we do not foot it till

five-and-fifty. The beauties were the Duke of Richmond's two

daughters (272) and their mother, still handsomer than they: the

duke (273) sat by his wife all night, kissing her hand: how this

must sound in the ears of Florentine cicisbeos, cock or hen! Then

there was Lady Euston, Lady Caroline Fitzroy, (274) Lady Lucy

Manners, (275) Lady Camilla Bennett, (276) and Lady Sophia, (277)

handsomer than all, but a little out of humour at the scarcity of

minuets; however, as usual, she

danced more than any body, and, as usual too, took out what men

she liked or thought the best dancers. Lord Holderness (278) is a

little what Lord Lincoln (279) will be to-morrow; for he is

expected. There was Churchill's daughter (280) who is prettyish,

and dances well; and the Parsons (281) family from Paris, who are

admired too; but indeed it is `a force des muscles. Two other

pretty women were Mrs. Colebroke (did you know the he-Colebroke

in Italy?) and a Lady Schaub, a

foreigner, who, as Sir Luke says, would have him. Sir R. was

afraid of the heat, and did not go. The supper was served at

twelve; a large table of hot for the lady-dancers; their

partners and other tables stood round. We danced (for I

country-danced) till four, then had tea and coffee, and came

home.-Finis Balli.

* * Friday was the birthday; it was vastly full, the ball

immoderately so, for there came all the second edition of my lord

mayor's, but not much finery: Lord Fitzwilliam (282) and myself

were far the most superb. I did not get mine till nine that

morning.

The opera will not tell as well as the other two shows, for they

were obliged to omit the part of Amorevoli, who has a fever. The

audience was excessive, without the least

disturbance, and almost as little applause; I cannot conceive

why, for Monticelli ***** be able to sing to-morrow.

At court I met the Shadwells; (283) Mademoiselle Misse Molli,

etc. I love them, for they asked vastly after you, and

kindly. Do you know, I have had a mind to visit Pucci, the

Florentine minister, but he is so black, and looks so like a

murderer in a play, that I have never brought it about yet? I

know none of the foreign ministers, but Ossorio, (284) a

little; he is still vastly in fashion, though extremely

altered. Scandal, who, I believe, is not mistaken, lays a Miss

Macartney to his charge; she is a companion to the

Duchess of Richmond, as Madame Goldsworthy was; but Ossorio will

rather be Wachtendonck (285) than Goldsworthy: what a lamentable

story is that of the hundred sequins per month! I have mentioned

Mr. Jackson, as you desired, to Sir R., who says, he has a very

good opinion of him. In case of any

change at Leghorn, you will let me know. He will not lose his

patron, Lord Hervey, (286) so soon as I imagined; he begins to

recover.

I believe the Euston embroil is adjusted; I was with Lady

Caroline Fitzroy on Friday evening; there were her brother and

the bride, and quite bridal together, quite honeymoonish.

I forgot to tell you that the prince was not at the opera; I

believe it has been settled that he should go thither on

Tuesdays, and Majesty on Saturdays, that they may not meet.

The Neutrality (287) begins to break out, and threatens to be an

excise or convention. The newspapers are full of it, and the

press teems. It has already produced three pieces: "The Groans

of Germany," which I will send you by the first

opportunity: "Bedlam, a poem on His Maj'esty's happy escape from

his German dominions, and all the wisdom of his conduct there."

The title of this is all that is remarkable in it. The third

piece is a ballad, which, not for the goodness, but for the

excessive abuse of it, I shall transcribe:

THE LATE GALLANT EXPLOITS OF A FAMOUS BALANCING CAPTAIN.

A NEW SONG. TO THE TUNE OF THE KING AND THE MILLER.

Mene tekel. The handwriting on the wall.

1. I'll tell you a story as strange as 'tis new,

Which all, who're concerned, will allow to be true,

Of a Balancing Captain, well-known herabouts,

Returned home, God save him as a mere King of Clouts.

2. This Captain he takes, in a gold-ballast'd ship,

Each summer to Terra damnosa a trip,

For which he begs, borrows, scrapes all he can get,

And runs his poor Owners most vilely in debt.

3. The last time he set out for this blessed place,

He met them, and told them a most piteous case,

Of a Sister of his, who, though bred up at court,

Was ready to perish for want of support.

4. This Hungry Sister, he then did pretend,

Would be to his Owners a notable friend,

If they would at that critical junction supply her-

They did-but alas! all the fat's in the fire!

5. This our Captain no sooner had finger'd the cole,

But he hies him abroad with his good Madam Vole-

Where, like a true tinker, he managed this metal,

And while he stopp'd one hole, made ten in the kettle.

6. His Sister, whom he to his Owners had,,;worn,

To see duly settled before his return,

He gulls with bad messages sent to and fro,

Whilst he underhand claps up a peace with her foe.

7. on He then turns this Sister adrift, and declares

Her most mortal foes were her Father's right heirs-

"G-d z-ds!" cries the world, "such a step was ne'er taken!"

"O, ho!" says Nol Bluff, "I have saved my own bacon."

8. Let France damn the Germans, and undam the Dutch,

And Spain on Old England pish ever so much,

Let Russia bang Sweden, or Sweden bang that,

I care not, by Robert! one kick of my hat.

9. So I by myself can noun substantive stand,

Impose on my Owners, and save my own land;

You call me masculine, feminine, neuter, or block,

Be what will the gender, sirs, hic, haec, or hoc.

10. Or should my choused Owners begin to look sour,

I'll trust to Mate Bob to exert his old power,

Regit animos dictis, or nummis, with ease,

So, spite of your growling, I'll act as I please."

11. Yet worse in this treacherous contract, 'tis said,

Such terms are agreed to, such promises made,

That his Owners must soon feeble beggars become-

"Hold!" cries the crown office, "'twere scandal-so, mum!"

12. This secret, however, must out on the day

When he meets his poor Owners to ask for more pay;

And I fear when they come to adjust the account,

zero for balance will prove their amount.

One or two of the stanzas are tolerable; some, especially the

ninth, most nonsensically bad. However, this is a specimen of

what we shall have amply commented upon in parliament.

I have already found out a person, who, I believe, will please

you, in Palombo's place: I am to see your brother about it

to-morrow, and next post you shall hear more particularly.

I am quite in concern for the poor prinCess,(289) and her

conjugal and amorous distresses: I really pity them; were they in

England, we should have all the old prudes dealing out

judgments on her, and mumbling toothless ditties to the tune of

Pride will have a fall. I am bringing some fans and

trifles for her, si mignons! Good night.

Yours ever.

(271) Lady Caroline D'Arcy, daughter of Robert third Earl of

Holdernesse, and wife of William Henry fourth Marquis of

Lothian, at this time, during his father's lifetime, called Earl

of Ancram.-D

(272) Lady Caroline and Lady Emily Lenox. [The former was

married, in 1744, to Henry Fox, the first Lord Holland; the

latter in 1746-7, to James, twentieth Earl of Kildare, in 1766

created Duke of Leinster.]

(273) Charles, second Duke of Richmond, and Lady Sarah

Cadogan, his duchess, eldest daughter of William Earl

Cadogan.-D.

(274) Eldest daughter of Charles Duke of Grafton.-[In 1746

married to Lord Petersham, afterwards Earl of Harrington.]

(275) Sister to John Duke of'Rutland; married in 1742, to the

Duke of Montrose.

(276) Only daughter of Charles second Earl of Tankerville. She

married, first, Gilbert Fane Fleming, Esq. and secondly, Mr.

Wake, of Bath.-D.

(277) Lady Sophia Fermor.-D.

(278) Robert D'Arcy, fourth and last Earl of Holdernesse.-E.

(279) Lord Lincoln was at this time an admirer of Lady Sophia

Fermor,-D.

(280) Harriet, natural daughter of General Churchill;

afterwards married to Sir Everard Fawkener.

(281) The son and daughters of Alderman Parsons, a Jacobite

brewer, who lived much in France, and had, somehow or other, been

taken notice of by the king.

(282) William third Earl Fitzwilliam, in Ireland; created an

English peer in 1742; and in 1746 an English earl.-D.

(283) Sir John Shadwell, a physician, his wife and daughters, the

youngest of whom was pretty, and by the foreigners

generally called Mademoiselle Misse Molli, had been in Italy,

when Mr. W. was there.

(284) The Chevalier Ossorio, minister from the King of

Sardinia.

(285) General Wachtendonck, commander of the great dukes

troops at Leghorn, was cicisbeo to the conslil's wife there.

(286) John Lord Hervey, lord privy seal, and eldest son of John

first Earl Of Bristol. He was a man of considerable

celebrity in his day; but is now principally known from his

unfortunate rivalry with Pope, for the good graces of Lady Mary

Wortley Montagu. He died August 5, 1743, at the age of

forty-seven.-D.

(287) The Neutrality for the electorate of Hanover.(

(288) This song is a satire upon George II., ,the balancing

Captain," and upon that in his vacillating and doubtful

conduct, which his fears for the electorate of Hanover made him

pursue, whenever Germany was the seat of war. His Sister, whom

he is accused of deserting, was Maria Theresa, Queen of

Hungary.-E.

(289) The Prince de Craon, and the princess his wife, who had

been favourite mistress to Leopold, the last Duke of Lorrain,

resided at this time at Florence, where the prince was head of

the council of regency; but they were extremely ill-treited and

mortified by the Count de Richcourt, a low Lorrainer, who, being

a creature of the great duke's favourite minister, had the chief

ascendant and power there.

186 Letter 40

To Sir Horace Mann.

Downing Street, Nov. 5, 1741, O. S.

I just mentioned to you in my letter on Monday, that I had found

such a person as you wanted; I have since seen your

brother, who is so satisfied with him, that he was for sending

him directly away to you, without staying six weeks for an answer

from you, but I chose to have your consent. He is the son of a

tradesman in this city, so not yet a fine gentleman. He is

between fifteen and sixteen, but very tall of his age: he was

disappointed in not going to a merchant at Genoa, as was

intended; but was so far provided for it as to have

learned Italian three months: he speaks French very well,

writes a good hand, and casts accounts; so, you see there will

not be much trouble in forming him to your purpose. He will go

to you for twenty pounds a-year and his lodging. If you like

this, Nvrite me word by the first post, and he shall set out

directly.

We hear to-day that the Toulon squadron is airived at

Barcelona; I don't like it of' all things, for it has a look

towards Tuscany. If it is suffered to go thither quietly, it

will be no small addition to the present discontents.

Here is another letter, which I am entreated to send you, from

poor Amorevoli; he has a continued fever, though not a high one.

Yesterday, Monticelli was taken ill, so there will be no opera on

Saturday; nor was on Tuesday. MOnticelli is

infinitely admired; next to Farinelli. The Viscontina is

admired more than liked. The music displeases every body, and

the dances. I am quite uneasy about the opera, for Mr. Conway is

one of' the directors, and I fear they will lose

considerably, which he cannot afford. There are eight; Lord

Middlesex, (290) Lord Holderness, Mr. Frederick, (291) Lord

Conway, (292) Mr. Conway, (293) Mr. Damer, (294) Lord Brook,

(295) and Mr. Brand. (296) The five last are directed by the

three first; they by the first, and he by the Abb`e Vanneschi,

(297) who will make a pretty sum. I Will give YOU Some

instances; not to mention the improbability of eight young

thoughtless men of fashion understanding economy -. it is

usual to give the poet fifty guineas for composing the

books-Vanneschi and Rolli are allowed three hundred. Three

hundred more VannesChi had for his journey to Italy to pick up

dancers and performers, which was always as well transacted by

bankers there. Be has additionally brought over an Italian

tailor-because there are none here! They have already given this

Taylorini four hundred pounds, and he has already taken a house

of thirty pounds a-year. Monticelli and the Visconti are to have

a thousand guineas apiece; Amorevoli eight hundred and fifty:

this at the rate of the great singers, is not so extravagant; but

to the Muscovita (though the second woman never had above four

hundred,) they give six; that is for

secret services. (298) By this you may judge of their

frugality! I am quite uneasy for poor Harry, who will thus be to

pay for Lord Middlesex's pleasures! Good night; I have not time

now to write more.

Yours, ever.

(290) Charles Sackville, Earl of Middlesex, and subsequently

second Duke of Dorset, eldest son of Lionel, first Duke of

Dorset. He was made a lord of the treasury in 1743, and

master of the horse to Frederick, Prince of Wales, in 1747-D.

(291) John Frederick, Esq. afterwards Sir John Frederick,

Bart. by the death of his cousin, Sir Thomas. He was a

commissioner of customs, and member of parliament for West

Looe.-D.

(292) Francis Seymour Conway, first Earl and Marquis of

Hertford, ambassador at Paris, lord chamberlain of the

household, etc.-D.

(293) Henry Seymour Conway, afterwards secretary of state, and a

field marshal in the army.-D.

(294) Joseph Damer, Esq. created in 1753 Baron Milton, in

Ireland, and by George III. an English peer, by the same

title, and eventually Earl of Dorchester.-D.

(295) Francis Greville, eighth Lord Brooke; created in 1746 Earl

Brooke, and in 1759 Earl of Warwick.-D.

(296) Mr. Brand of the Hoo, in Hertfordshire, one of the

original members of the society of Dilettanti.--D.

(297) If this anticipation of Walpole's was ever realized, "the

pretty sum" was eventually lost on the spot where it had been

gained. Vanneschi, having in 1753 undertaken the

management of the opera-house on his own account, continued it

until 1756, when his differences with Mingotti, which excited

almost as much of the public attention as the rivalries of Handel

and Bononcini or of Faustina and Cuzzoni, completely prejudiced

the public against him, and eventually ended in making him a

bankrupt, a prisoner in the Fleet, and at last a fugitive.-E.

(298) She was kept by Lord Middlesex.

187 Letter 41

To Sir Horace Mann.

Downing Street, Nov. 12, 1741.

Nothing is equal to my uneasiness about you. I hear or think of

nothing but Spanish embarkations for Tuscany: before you receive

this, perhaps, they will be at Leghorn. Then, your brother tells

me you have received none of my letters. He knows I have never

failed writing once a week, if not twice. We have had no letters

from You this post. I shall not have the least respite from

anxiety, till I hear about you, and what you design to do. it is

immpossible but the great duke must lose Tuscany; and I suppose

it is as certain, (I speak on probabilities, for, upon honour, I

know nothing of the

matter,) that as soon as there is a peace, we shall

acknowledge Don Philip, and then you may return to Florence

again. In the mean while I will ask Sir R. if it is possible to

get your appointments continued, while you stay in

readiness at Bologna, Rome, Lucca, or where you choose. I talk

at random; but as I think so much of you, I am trying to find out

something that may be of service to you. I write in infinite

hurry, and am called away, so scarce know what I say. Lord

Conway and his family are this instant come to town, and have

sent for me.

It is Admiral Vernon's birthday, (299) and the city-shops are

full of favours, the streets of marrowbones and cleavers, and the

night will be full of mobbing, bonfires, and lights.

The opera does not succeed; Amorevoli has not sung yet; here is a

letter to his wife; mind, while he is ill, he sends to the

Chiaretta! The dances are infamous and ordinary. Lord

Chesterfield was told that the Viscontina said she was but

four-and-twenty: he answered, "I suppose she means

four-and-twenty stone!"

There is a mad parson goes about; he called to a sentinel the

other day in the Park; "Did you ever see the Leviathan?"

"No." "Well, he is as like Sir. R. W. as ever two devils were

like one another."

Never was such unwholesome weather! I have a great cold, and have

not been well this fortnight: even immortal majesty has had a

looseness.

The Duke of Ancaster (300) and Lord James Cavendish (301) are

dead.

This is all the news I know: I would I had time to write more;

but I know you will excuse me now. If I wrote more, it would be

still about the Italian expedition, I am so disturbed about it.

Yours, ever.

(299) Admiral Vernon was now in the height of his popularity, in

consequence of his successful attack upon Porto-Bello, in

November, 1739, and the great gallantry he had shown upon that

occasion. His determined and violen't opposition, as a member of

parliament, to the measures of the government, assisted in

rendering him the idol of the mob, which he continued for many

years.-D. [The admiral was actually elected for Rochester,

Ipswich, and Penryn: he'was also set up for the City of

London, where he was beaten by two thousand votes; and in

Westminster, where he was beaten by four hundred. After the

affair of Porto-Bello, he took Chagre, and continued in the

service till 1748; when several matters which had passed

between him and the lords of the admiralty being laid before the

king, be was struck off the list of flag officers. He died in

1757. A handsome monument was erected to his memory in

Westminster Abbey.]

(300) Peregrine Bertie, second Duke of Ancaster and Kesteven,

great chamberlain of England, and chief justice in Eyre, north of

Trent. The report of his death was premature. His grace

survived till the 1st of January.-E.

(301) The second son of William, second Duke of Devonshire. He

was colonel of a regiment of foot-guards, and member for

Malton.-E.

189 Letter 42

To Sir Horace Mann.

Downing Street, Nov. 23, 1741.

Your letter has comforted me much, if it can be called comfort to

have one's uncertainty fluctuate to the better side. You make me

hope that the Spaniards design on Lombardy ; my

passion for Tuscany, and anxiety for you, make me eager to

believe it; but alas! while I am in the belief of this, they may

be in the act of conquest in Florence, and poor you

retiring politically! How delightful is Mr. Chute for

cleaving unto you like Ruth! "Whither thou goest, I will go; and

where thou lodgest, I will lodge!" As to the merchants of Leghorn

and their concerns, Sir R. thinks you are mistaken, and that if

the Spaniards come thither, they will by no means be safe. I own

I write to you under a great dilemma; I

flatter myself, all is well with you; but if not, how

disagreeable to have one's letters fall into strange hands. I

write, however.