The graceful fair, who loves to know,
Nor dreads the North's inclement snow:
Who bids her polish'd accent wear
The British diction's harsher air;
Shall read her praise in every clime
Where types can speak or poets rhyme
For MADAME: DUSSON.
Feign not an ignorance of what I speak
You could not miss my meaning were it Greek:
'Tis the same language Belgium utter'd first,
The same which from admiring Gallia burst.
True sentiment a like expression pours;
Each country says the same to eyes like yours.
You will comprehend that the first speaks English, and that the
second does not; that the second is handsome, and the first not;
and that the second was born in Holland. This little gentilesse
pleased, and atoned for the popery of my house, which was not
serious enough for Madame de Boufflers, who is Montmorency, et du
sang du premier Chritien; and too serious for Madame Dusson, who
is a Dutch Calvinist. The latter's husband was not here, nor
Drumgold,(290) who have both got fevers, nor the Duc de
Nivernois, who dined at Claremont. The gallery is not advanced
enough to give them any idea at all, as they are not apt to go
out of their way for one; but the cabinet, and the glory of
yellow glass at top, which had a charming sun for a foil, did
surmount their indifference, especially as they were animated by
the Duchess of Grafton, who had never happened to be here before,
and who perfectly entered into the air of enchantment and
fairyism, which is the tone of the place, and was peculiarly so
to-day--a-propos, when do you design to come hither? Let me know,
that I may have no measures to interfere with receiving you and
your grandsons.
Before Lord Bute ran away, he made Mr. Bentley a commissioner of
the lottery; I don't know whether a single or double one: the
latter, which I hope it is, is two hundred a-year.
Thursday, 19th.
I am ashamed of myself to have nothing but a journal of pleasures
to send you; I never passed a more agreeable day than yesterday.
Miss Pelham gave the French an entertainment at Esher; but they
have been so feasted and amused, that none of them were well
enough, or reposed enough. to come, but Nivernois and Madame
Dusson. The rest of the company were, the Graftons, Lady
Rockingham, Lord and Lady Pembroke, Lord and Lady Holderness,
Lord Villiers, Count Worotizow the Russian minister, Lady Sondes,
Mr. and Miss Mary Pelham, Lady Mary Coke, Mrs. Anne Pitt, and Mr.
Shelley. The day was delightful, the scene transporting; the
trees, lawns, concaves, all in the perfection in which the ghost
of Kent would joy to see them. At twelve we made the tour of the
farm in chaises, and calashes, horsemen, and footmen, setting out
like a picture of Wouverman's. My lot fell in the lap of Mrs.
Anne Pitt,(291) which I could have excused, as she was not at all
in the style of the day, romantic, but political. We had a
magnificent dinner, cloaked in the modesty of earthenware; French
horns and hautboys On the lawn. We walked to the Belvidere on
the summit of the hill, where a theatrical storm only served to
heighten the beauty Of the landscape, a rainbow on a dark cloud
falling precisely behind the tower of a neighbouring church,
between another tower and the building at Claremont. Monsieur de
Nivernois, who had been absorbed all day, and lagging behind,
translating my verses, was delivered of bis version, and of some
more lines which he wrote on Miss Pelham in the Belvedere, while
we drank tea and coffee. From thence we passed into the wood,
and the ladies formed a circle on chairs before the Mouth of the
cave, which was overhung to a vast height with the woodbines,
lilacs, and liburnums, and dignified by the tall shapely
cypresses. On the descent of the hill were placed the French
horns; the abigails, servants, and neighbours wandering below the
river; in short, it was Parnassus, as Watteau would have painted
it. Here we had a rural syllabub, and part of the company
returned to town; but were replaced
by Giardini and Onofrio, who, with Nivernois on he violin, an
Lord Pembroke on the bass, accompanied Mrs. Pelham, Lady
Rockingham, and the Duchess of Grafton, who sang. This little
concert lasted till past ten; then there were minuets, and as we
had seven couple left, it concluded with a Country dance. I
blush again, for I danced, but was kept in countenance by
Nivernois, who has one wrinkle more than I have. A quarter after
twelve they sat down to supper, and I came home by a charming
moonlight. I am going to dine in town, and to a great ball with
fireworks at Miss Chudleigh's, but I return hither on Sunday, to
bid adieu to this abominable Arcadian life; for really when one
IS not young, one ought to do nothing but s'ennuyer; I will try,
but I always go about it awkwardly. Adieu!
P. S. I enclose a copy of both the English and French verses.