The waters do not benefit me so much as at firs,; the pains in my

stomach return almost every morning, but do not seem the least

allied to the gout. This decrease of their virtue is not near so

great a disappointment to me as you might imagine; for I am so

childish as not to think health itself a compensation for passing

my time very disagreeably. I can bear the loss of youth

heroically, provided I am comfortable, and can amuse myself as I

like. But health does not give one the sort of spirits that make

one like diversions, public places, and mixed company. Living

here is being a shopkeeper, who is glad of all kinds of

customers; but does not suit me, who am leaving Off trade. I

shall depart on Wednesday, even on the penalty of coming again.

To have lived three weeks in a fair appears to me a century! I

am not at all in love with their country, which so charms every

body. Mountains are very good frames to a prospect, but here

they run against one's nose, nor can one stir out of the town

without clambering. It is true one may live as retired as one

pleases, and may always have a small society. The place is

healthy, every thing is cheap, and the provisions better than

ever I tasted. Still I have taken an insupportable aversion to

it, which I feel rather than can account for; I do not think you

would dislike it: so you see I am just in general, though very

partial as to my own particular.

You have raised my curiosity about Lord Scarsdale's, yet I

question whether I shall ever take the trouble of visiting it. I

grow every year more averse to stirring from home, and putting

myself out of my way. If I can but be tolerably well at

Strawberry, my wishes bounded. If I am to live at

watering-places, and keep what is called good hours, life itself

will be very indifferent to me. I do not talk very sensibly, but

I have a contempt for that fictitious character styled

philosophy; I feel what I feel, and say I feel what I do feel.

Adieu! Yours ever.

Letter 318 To The Hon. H. S. Conway.

Bath, Oct. 18, 1766. (page 491)

You have made me laugh, and somebody else makes me stare. How

can one wonder at any thing he does, when he knows so little of

the world? I suppose the next step will be to propose me for

groom of the bedchamber to the new Duke of Cumberland. But why

me? Here is that hopeful young fellow, Sir John Rushout, the

oldest member of the House, and, as extremes meet, very proper to

begin again; why overlook him? However, as the secret is kept

from me myself, I am perfectly easy about it. I shall call

to-day or to-morrow to ask his commands, but certainly shall not

obey those you mention.(972)

The waters certainly are not so beneficial to me as at first: I

have almost every morning my pain in my stomach. I do not

pretend this to be the cause of my leaving Bath. The truth is, I

cannot bear it any longer. You laugh at my regularity; but the

contrary habit is so strong in me, that I cannot continue such

sobriety. The public rooms, and the loo, where we play in a

circle, like the hazard on Twelfth-night, are insupportable.

This coming into the world again, when I am so weary of it, is as

bad and ridiculous as moving an address would be. I have no

affectation; for affectation is a monster at nine-and-forty; but

if I cannot live quietly, privately,

and comfortably, I am perfectly indifferent about living at all.

I would not kill myself, for that is a philosopher's affectation,

and I will come hither again, if I must; but I shall always drive

very near, before I submit to do any thing I do not like. In

short, I must be as foolish as I please, as long as I can keep

without the limits of absurdity. What has an old man to do but

to preserve himself from parade on one hand, and ridicule on the

other?(973) Charming youth may indulge itself in either, may be

censured, will be envied, and has time to correct. Adieu

Monday evening.

You are a delightful manager of the House of Commons, to reckon

540, instead of 565! Sandwich was more accurate In lists, and

would not have miscounted 25, which are something in a division.

(972) Mr. Conway had intimated to Walpole, that it was the wish

of Lord Chatham, that he should move the address on the King's

speech at the opening of the session.-E.

(973) On the topic of ridicule, Walpole had, a few days before,

thus expressed himself in a letter to Madame du Deffand:--"Il y

avoit longtemps avant la date de notre connaissance, que cette

crainte de ridicule s'`etoit plant`ee dans mon esprit, et vous

devez assur`ement vous ressouvenir a quel point elle me

poss`edoit, et combien de fois je vous en ai entretenu. N'allez

pas lui chercher une naissance r`ecente. D`es le moment que je

cessais d'`etre jeune, j'ai eu une peur horrible de devenir un

veillard ridicule." To this the lady replied--"Vos craintes sur

le ridicule sont des terreurs paniques, mais on ne gu`erit point

de la peur; je n'ai point une semblable foiblesse; je sais qu'`a

mon age on est `a l'abri de donner du scandale: si l'on aime, on

n'a point `a s'en cacher; l'amiti`e ne sera jamais un sentiment

ridicule, quand elle ne fait pas faire des folies; mais

gardons-nous d'en prof`erer le nom, puisque vous avez de si

bonnes raisons de la vouloir proscrire."-E.

Letter 319 To George Montagu, Esq.

Strawberry Hill, Oct. 22, 1766. (page 492)

They may say what they will, but it does one ten times more good

to leave Bath than to go to it. I may sometimes drink the

waters, as Mr. Bentley used to say I invited company hither that

I did not care for, that I might enjoy the pleasure of their

going away. My health is certainly amended, but I did not feel

the satisfaction of it till I got home. I have still a little

rheumatism in one shoulder, which was not dipped in Styx, and is

still mortal; but, while I went to the rooms, or stayed in my

chambers in a dull court, I thought I had twenty complaints. I

don't perceive one of them.

Having no companion but such as the place afforded, and which I

did not accept, my excursions were very few; besides that the

city is so guarded with mountains, that I had not patience to be

jolted like a pea in a drum, in my chaise alone. I did go to

Bristol, the dirtiest great shop I ever saw, with so foul a

river, that, had I seen the least appearance of cleanliness, I

should have concluded they washed all their linen in it, as they

do at Paris. Going into the town, I was struck with a large

Gothic building, coal-black, and striped with white; I took it

for the devil's cathedral. When I came nearer, I found it was a

uniform castle, lately built, and serving for stables and offices

to a smart false Gothic house on the other side of the road.

The real cathedral is very neat and has pretty tombs, besides the

two windows of painted glass, given by Mrs. Ellen Gwyn. There is

a new church besides of' St. Nicholas, neat and truly Gothic,

besides a charming old church at the other end of the town. The

cathedral, or abbey, at Bath, is glaring and crowded with modern

tablet-monuments; among others, I found two, of my cousin Sir

Erasmus Phillips, and of Colonel Madan. Your cousin Bishop

Montagu, decked it much. I dined one day with an agreeable

family, two miles from Bath, a Captain Miller(974) and his wife,

and her mother, Mrs. Riggs. They have a small new-built house,

with a bow-window, directly opposite to which the Avon falls in a

wide cascade, a church behind it in a vale, into which two

mountains descend, leaving an opening into the distant country.

A large village, with houses of gentry, is on one of the hills to

the left. Their garden is little, but pretty, and watered with

several small rivulets among the bushes. Meadows fall down to

the road; and above, the garden is terminated by another view of

the river, the city, and the mountains. 'Tis a very diminutive

principality, with large Pretensions.

I must tell you a quotation I lighted upon t'other day from

Persius, the application of which has much diverted Mr. Chute.

You know my Lord Milton,(975) from nephew of the old usurer

Damer, of Dublin, has endeavoured to erect himself into the

representative of the ancient Barons Damory--

"----Momento turbinis exit

Marcus Dama."

Apropos, or rather not `apropos, I wish you joy of the

restoration of the dukedom in your house, though I believe we

both think it very hard upon my Lady Beaulieu.

I made a second visit to Lady Lucy and Mrs. Trevor, and saw the

latter One night at the rooms. She did not appear to me so

little altered as in the dusk of her own chamber. Adieu! Yours

ever.

(974) Captain John Miller, of Ballicasy, in the county of Clare.

In the preceding year he had married Anne, the only daughter of

Edward Riggs, Esq. In 1778, he was created an Irish baronet, and

in 1784, chosen representative for Newport in parliament. See

post, Walpole's letter to General Conway, of the 15th of January

1775.-E.

(975) Joseph Damer Lord Milton, of Shrone Hill, in the kingdom of

Ireland, was created a baron of Great Britain in May 1762, by the

title of Baron Milton of Milton Abbey, Dorsetshire.-E.

Letter 320 To Sir David Dalrymple.(976)

Strawberry Hill, Nov. 5, 1766. (page 494)

Sir,

On my return from Bath, I found your very kind and agreeable

present of the papers in King Charles's time;(977) for which and

all your other obliging favours I give you a thousand thanks.

I was particularly pleased with your just and sensible preface

against the squeamish or bigoted persons who would bury in

oblivion the faults and follies of princes, and who thence

contribute to their guilt; for if princes, who living are above

control, should think that no censure is to attend them when

dead, it would be new encouragement to them to play the fool and

act the tyrant. When they are so kind as to specify their crimes

under their own hands, it would be foppish delicacy indeed to

suppress them. I hope you will proceed, Sir, and with the same

impartiality. It was justice due to Charles to publish the

extravagancies of his enemies too. The comparison can never be

fairly made, but when we see the evidence on both sides. I have

done so in the trifles I have published, and have as much

offended some by what I have said of the Presbyterians at the

beginning of my third volume of the Painters, as I had others by

condemnation of King Charles in my Noble Authors. In the second

volume of my Anecdotes I praised him where he deserved praise;

for truth is my sole object, and it is some proof, when one

offends both. I am, Sir, your most obliged and obedient servant.

(976) Now first collected. In the March of this year, Sir David

Dalrymple was made a judge of the Court of session, when he

assumed the name of lord Hailes, by which he is best known.-E.

(977) "The Memorials and Letters relating to the History of

Britain in the Reigns of James the First and Charles the First,

published from the originals in the Advocates' Library at

Edinburgh," had just appeared, in two volumes, octavo.-E.

Letter 321 To David Hume, Esq.

Nov. 6, 1766. (page 494)

Dear sir,

You have, I own, surprised me by suffering your quarrel with

Rousseau to be printed, contrary to your determination when you

left London, and against the advice of all your best friends

here; I may add, contrary to your own nature, which has always

inclined you to despise literary squabbles, the jest and scorn of

all men of sense. Indeed, I am sorry you have let yourself be

over-persuaded, and so are all that I have seen who wish you

well: I ought rather to use your own word extorted. You say your

Parisian friends extorted your consent to this publication. I

believe so. Your good sense would not approve what your good

heart could not refuse. You add, that they told you Rousseau had

sent letters of defiance against you all over Europe? Good God!

my dear Sir, could you pay any regard to such fustian? All

Europe laughs at being dragged every day into these idle

quarrels, with which Europe only ***. Your friends talk as

loftily as of a challenge between Charles the Fifth and Francis

the First. What are become of all the controversies since the

days of Scaliger and Scioppius, of Billingsgate memory? Why,

they sleep in oblivion, till some Bayle drags them out of their

dust, and takes mighty pains to ascertain the date of each

author's death, which is of no more consequence to the world than

the day of his birth. Many a country squire quarrels with his

neighbour about game and manors; yet they never print their

wrangles, though as much abuse passes between them as if they

could quote all the philippics of the learned. You have acted,

as i should have expected if you would print, with sense, temper,

and decency, and, what is still more uncommon, with your usual

modesty. I cannot say so much for your editors. But editors and

commentators are seldom modest. Even to this day that race ape

the dictatorial tone Of the commentators at the restoration of

learning, when the mob thought that Greek and Latin could give

men the sense which they wanted in their native languages. But

Europe is now grown a little wiser, and holds these magnificent

pretensions in proper contempt.

What I have said is to explain why I am sorry my letter makes a

part of this controversy. When I sent it to you, it was for your

justification; and, had it been necessary, I could have added as

much more, having been witness to your anxious and boundless

friendship for Rousseau. I told you, you might make what use of

it you pleased. Indeed, at that time I did not-could not think

of its being printed, you seeming so averse to any publication on

that head. However, I by no means take it ill, nor regret my

part, if it tends to vindicate your honour.

I must confess that I am more concerned that you have suffered my

letter to be curtailed; nor should I have consented to that if

you had asked me. I guessed that your friends consulted your

interest less than their own inclination to expose Rousseau; and

I think their omission of what I said on that subject proves I

was not mistaken in my guess. My letters hinted, too, my

contempt of learned men and their miserable conduct. Since I was

to appear in print, I should not have been sorry that that

opinion should have appeared at the same \time. In truth, there

is nothing I hold so cheap as the generality of learned men; and

I have often thought that young men ought to be made scholars,

lest they should grow to reverence learned blockheads, and think

there is any merit in having read more foolish books than other

folks; which, as there are a thousand nonsensical books for one

good one, must be the case of any man who has read much more than

other people.

Your friend D'Alembert, who, I suppose, has read a vast deal, is,

it seems, offended with my letter to Rousseau.(978) He is

certainly as much at liberty to blame it, as I was to write it.

Unfortunately he does not convince me; nor can I think but that

if Rousseau may attack all governments and all religions, I might

attack him: especially on his affectation and affected

misfortunes; which you and your editors have proved are affected.

D'Alembert might be offended at Rousseau's ascribing my letter to

him; and he is in the right. I am a very indifferent author; and

there is nothing so vexatious to an indifferent author as to be

confounded with another of the same class. I should be sorry to

have his eloges and translations of scraps of Tacitus laid to me.

However, I can forgive him any thing, provided he never

translates me. Adieu! my dear Sir. I am apt to laugh, you know,

and therefore you will excuse me, though I do not treat your

friends up to the pomp of their claims. They may treat me as

freely: I shall not laugh the less, and I promise you I will

never enter into a controversy with them. Yours ever.

(978) For writing the pretended letter from the King of Prussia

to Rousseau, Walpole was severely censured by Warburton, in a

letter to Hurd:--"As to Rousseau," says the Bishop, "I entirely

agree with you, that his long letter to his brother philosopher,

Hume, shows him to be a frank lunatic. His passion of tears, his

suspicion of his friends in the midst of their services, and his

incapacity of being set right, all consign him to Monro.

Walpole's pleasantry upon him had baseness in its very

conception. It was written when the poor man had determined to

seek an asylum in England; and is, therefore, justly and

generously condemned by D'Alembert. This considered, Hume failed

both in honour and friendship not to show his dislike; which

neglect seems to have kindled the first spark of combustion in

this madman's brain. However, the contestation is very amusing,

and I shall be very sorry if it stops, now it is in so good a

train. I should be well pleased, particularly, to see so

seraphic a madman attack so insufferable a coxcomb as Walpole;

and I think they are only fit for one another."-E.

Letter 322 To David Hume, Esq.

Arlington Street, Nov. 11, 1766. (page 496)

Indeed, dear Sir, it was not necessary to make me any apology.

D'Alembert is certainly at liberty to say what he pleases of me;

and undoubtedly you cannot think that it signifies a straw to me

what he says. But how can you be surprised at his printing a

thing that he sent you so long ago? All my surprise consists in

your suffering him to Curtail my letter to you, when you might be

sure be would print his own at length. I am glad, however, that

he has mangled mine: it not only shows his equity, but is the

strongest proof that he was conscious I guessed right, when I

supposed he urged you to publish, from his own private pique to

Rousseau.

What you surmise of his censuring my letter because I am a friend

of Madame du Deffand, is astonishing indeed, and not to be

credited, unless you had suggested it. Having never thought him

any thing like a superior genius,(979) as you term him, I

concluded his vanity was hurt by Rousseau's ascribing my letter

to him; but, to carry resentment to a woman, to an old and blind

woman, so far as to hate a friend of hers qui ne lui avoit fait

de mal is strangely weak and lamentable. I thought he was a

philosopher, and that philosophers were virtuous, upright men,

who loved wisdom, and were above the little passions and foibles

of humanity. I thought they assumed that proud title as an

earnest to the world, that they intended to be something more

than mortal; that they engaged themselves to be patterns of

excellence, and would utter no opinion, would pronounce no

decision, but what they believed the quintessence of' truth; that

they always acted without prejudice and respect of persons.

Indeed, we know that the ancient philosophers were a ridiculous

composition of arrogance, disputation, and contradictions; that

some of them acted against all ideas of decency; that others

affected to doubt of their own senses; that some, for venting

unintelligible nonsense, pretended to think themselves superior

to kings; that they gave themselves airs of accounting for all

that we do and do not see-and yet, that no two of them agreed in

a single hypothesis; that one thought fire, another water, the

origin of all things; and that some were even so absurd and

impious, as to displace God, and enthrone matter in his place. I

do not mean to disparage such wise men, for we are really obliged

to them: they anticipated and helped us off with an exceeding

deal of nonsense, through which we might possibly have passed, if

they had not prevented us. But, when in this enlightened age, as

it is called, I saw the term philosophers revived, I concluded

the jargon would be omitted, and that we should be blessed with

only the cream of sapience; and one had more reason still to

expect this from any superior genius. But, alas! my dear Sir,

what a tumble is here! Your D'Alembert is a mere mortal oracle.

Who but would have laughed, if, when the buffoon Aristophanes

ridiculed Socrates, Plato had condemned the former, not for

making sport with a great man in distress, but because Plato

hated some blind old woman with whom Aristophanes was acquainted!

D'Alembert's conduct is the More Unjust, as I never heard Madame

du Deffand talk of him above three times in the seven months that

I passed at Paris; and never, though she does not love him, with

any reflection to his prejudice. I remember the first time I

ever heard her mention his name, I said I have been told he was a

good man but could not think him a good writer. (Craufurd(980)

remembers this, and it is a proof that I always thought of

D'Alembert as I do now.) She took it up with warmth, defended

his parts, and said he was extremely amusing. For her quarrel

with him, I never troubled my head about it one way or other;

which you will not wonder at. You know in England we read their

works, but seldom or never take any notice of authors. We think

them sufficiently paid if their books sell, and of course leave

them to their colleges and obscurity, by which means we are not

troubled with their variety and impertinence. In France, they

spoil us; but that was no business of mine. I, who am an author

must own this conduct very sensible; for in truth we are a most

useless tribe.

That D'Alembert should have omitted passages in which you was so

good as to mention me with approbation, agrees with his

peevishness, not with his philosophy. However, for God's sake,

do not state the passages. I do not love compliments, and will

never give my consent to receive any. I have no doubt of your

kind intentions to me, but beg they may rest there. I am much

more diverted with the philosopher D'Alembert's underhand

dealings, than I should have been pleased with panegyric even

from you.

Allow me to make one more remark, and I have done with this

trifling business for ever. Your moral friend pronounces me

ill-natured for laughing at an unhappy man who had never offended

me. Rousseau certainly never did offend me. I believed, from

many symptoms in his writings, and from what I heard of him, that

his love of singularity made him choose to invite misfortunes,

and that he hung out many more than he felt. I, who affect no

philosophy, nor pretend to more virtue than my neighbours,

thought this ridiculous in a man who is really a superior genius,

and joked upon it in a few lines never certainly intended to

appear in print. The sage D'Alembert reprehends this--and where?

In a book published to expose Rousseau, and which confirms by

serious proofs what I had hinted at in jest. What! does a

philosopher condemn me, and in the very same, breath, only with

ten times more ill-nature, act exactly as I had done? Oh! but

you will say, Rousseau had offended D'Alembert by ascribing the

King of Prussia's letter to him. Worse and worse: if Rousseau is

unhappy, a philosopher should have pardoned. Revenge is so

unbecoming the rex regum, the man who is precipue sanus--nisi cum

pituita molesta est. If Rousseau's misfortunes are affected,

what becomes of my ill-nature? In short, my dear Sir, to

conclude as D'Alembert concludes his book, I do believe in the

virtue of Mr. Hume, but not much in that of philosophers. Adieu!

Yours ever.

P. S. It occurs to me, that you may be apprehensive of my being

indiscreet enough to let D'Alembert learn your suspicions of him

on Madame du Deffand's account! but you may be perfectly easy on

that head. Though I like such an advantage over him, and should

be glad he saw this letter, and knew how little formidable I

think him, I shall certainly not make an ill use of a private

letter, and had much rather wave my triumph, than give a friend a

moment's pain. I love to laugh at an impertinent savant, but

respect learning when Joined to such goodness as yours, and never

confound ostentation and modesty.

I wrote to you last Thursday and, by Lady Hertford's advice,

directed my letter to Nine-Wells: I hope you will receive it.

Yours ever.

(979) "I believe I said he was a man of superior parts, not a

superior genius; words, if I mistake not, of a very different

import." Hume.-E.

(981) John Craufurd, Esq. of Auchinames, in Scotland.-E.

Letter 323 To George Montagu, Esq.

Strawberry Hill, Dec. 12, 1766. (page 499)

Pray what are you doing?

Or reading or feeding?

Or drinking or thinking?

Or praying or playing?

Or walking or talking?

Or riding about to your neighbours?(982)

I am sure you are not writing, for I have not had a word from you

this century; nay, nor you from me. In truth, we have had a busy

month, and many grumbles of a state-quake; but the session has

however ended very triumphantly for the great Earl. I mean, we

are adjourned for the holidays for above a month, after two

divisions of one hundred and sixty-six to forty-eight, and one

hundred and forty to fifty-six.(983) The Earl chaffered for the

Bedfords, and who so willing as they?(984) However, the bargain

went off, and they are forced to return to George Grenville.

Lord Rockingham and the Cavendishes have made a jaunt to the same

quarter, but could carry only eight along with them, which

swelled that little minority to fifty-six. I trust and I hope it

will not rise higher in haste. Your cousin, I hear, has been two

hours with the Earl, but to what purpose I know not. Nugent is

made Lord Clare, I think to no purpose at all.I came hither

to-day for two or three days, and to empty my head. The weather

is very warm and comfortable. When do you move your tents

southward? I left little news in town, except politics. That

pretty young woman, Lady Fortrose,(985) Lady Harrington's eldest

daughter, is at the point of death, killed, like Coventry and

others, by white lead, of which nothing could break her. Lord

Beauchamp is going to marry the second Miss Windsor.(986) It is

odd that those two ugly girls, though such great fortunes, should

get the two best figures in England, him and Lord Mount-Stuart.

The Duke of York is erecting a theatre at his own palace, and is

to play Lothario in the Fair Penitent himself. Apropos, have you

seen that delightful paper composed out of scraps in the

newspapers! I laughed till I cried, and literally burst out so

loud, that I thought Favre, who was waiting in the next room,

would conclude I was in a fit; I mean the paper that says,

"This day his Majesty will go in state to fifteen notorious,"

etc. etc.(987)

It is the newest piece of humour except the Bath Guide, that I

have seen of many years. Adieu! Do let me hear from you soon.

How does brother John? Yours ever.

(982 Thus playfully imitated by Lord Byron, in December, 1816;

"What are you doing now, oh Thomas Moore?

Sighing or suing now?

Rhyming or wooing now?

Billing or cooing now?

Which, Thomas Moore?"-E.

(983) On the bill of indemnity for those concerned in the embargo

on the exportation of corn.-E.

(984) The following is Lord Chesterfield's account of this

negotiation:--"No mortal can comprehend the present state of

affairs. Eight or nine persons, of some consequence, have

resigned their employments; upon which, Lord Chatham made

overtures to the Duke of Bedford and his people; but they could

by no means agree, and his grace went the next day, full of

wrath, to Woburn; so that negotiation is entirely at an end.

People wait to see who Lord Chatham will take in, for some he

must have; even he cannot be alone, contra mundum. Such a state

of things, to be sure, was never seen before, in this or in any

other country. When this ministry shall be settled, it will be

the sixth in six years' time."-E.

(985) Caroline, eldest daughter of William second Earl of

Harrington; married, on the 7th of October 1765, to Kenneth

M'Kenzie, created Baron of Andelon, Viscount Fortrose and Earl of

Seaforth in the peerage of Ireland. Her ladyship died on the 9th

of February 1767.-E.

(986) Francis Lord Beauchamp, son of the first Marquis of

Hertford. His first wife, by whom he had no issue, was Alice

Elizabeth, youngest daughter and coheiress of Herbert second

Viscount Windsor. This lady died in 1772; when his lordship

married, secondly, in 1776, Isabella Anne, daughter and heiress

of Charles Ingram, Viscount Irvine of Scotland.-E.

(987) Cross-readings from the Public Advertiser, by Caleb

Whitefoord. [The paper was entitled, "A New Method of reading

the Newspapers," and was subscribed, "Papyrius Cursor;" a

signature which Dr. Johnson thought singularly happy, it being

the real name of an ancient Roman, and expressive of the thing

done in this lively conceit--of which the following may serve as

a specimen:--

"Yesterday Dr. Jones preached at St. James's and performed it

with ease in less than 15 minutes.

The sword of state was carried before Sir J. Fielding, and

committed to Newgate.

There was a numerous and brilliant court; a down look, and cast

with one eye.

Last night the Princess Royal was baptized; Mary, alias Moll

Hacket, alias Black Nell.

This morning the Right Hon. the Speaker--was convicted of keeping

a disorderly house.

This day his Majesty will go in state to fifteen notorious common

prostitutes.

Their R. H. the Dukes of York and Gloucester were bound over to

their good behaviour.

At noon her R. H. the Princess dowager was married to Mr.

Jenkins, an eminent tailor.

Several changes are talked of at court, consisting of 8040 triple

bob-majors.

At a very full meeting of common council, the greatest show of

horned cattle this season.

An indictment for murder is preferred against the worshipful

company of Apothecaries.

Yesterday the new Lord Mayor was sworn in, and afterwards tossed

and gored several persons.

This morning will be married the Lord Viscount and afterwards

hung in chains, pursuant to his sentence.

Escaped from the new gaol, Terence M'Dernan, if he will return,

he will be kindly received,"

Letter 324 To George Montagu, Esq.

Arlington Street, Dec. 16, 1766. (p-age 500)

I wrote to You last post on the very day I ought to have received

yours; but being at Strawberry, did not get it in time. Thank

you for your offer of a doe; you know when I dine at home here,

it is quite alone, and venison frightens my little meal; yet, as

half of it is designed for dimidium animae meae Mrs. Clive (a

pretty round half), I must not refuse it; venison will make such

a figure at her Christmas gambols! only let me know when and how

I am to receive it, that she may prepare the rest of her banquet;

I will convey it to her. I don't like your wintering so late in

the country. Adieu!

Letter 325 To George Montagu, Esq.

Tuesday, Jan. 13, 1767. (page 501

I am going to eat some of your venison, and dare to say it is

very good; I am sure you are, and thank you for it. Catherine, I

do not doubt, is up to the elbows in currant jelly and Gratitude.

I have lost poor Louis, who died last week at Strawberry. He had

no fault but what has fallen upon himself, poor. soul! drinking:

his honesty and good-nature were complete; and I am heartily

concerned for him, which I shall seldom say so sincerely.

There has been printed a dull complimentary letter to me on the

quarrel of Hume and Rousseau. In one of the reviews they are so

obliging as to say I wrote it myself: it is so dull, that I

should think they wrote it themselves--a kind Of abuse I should

dislike much more than their criticism.

Are not you frozen, perished? How do you keep yourself alive on

your mountain! I scarce stir from my fireside. I have scarce

been at Strawberry for a day this whole Christmas, and there is

less appearance of a thaw to-day than ever. There has been

dreadful havoc at Margate and Aldborough, and along the coast.

At Calais, the sea rose above sixty feet perpendicular, which

makes people conclude there has been an earthquake somewhere or

other. I shall not think of my journey to France yet; I suffered

too much with the cold last year at Paris, where they have not

the least idea of comfortable, but sup in stone halls, with all

the doors open. Adieu! I must go dress for the drawing-room of

the Princess of Wales. Yours ever.

Letter 326 To Dr. Ducarel.

April 25, 1767. (page 501)

Mr. Walpole has been out of town, Or should have thanked Dr.

Ducarel sooner for the obliging favour of his most curious and

valuable work,(988) which Mr. Walpole has read with the greatest

pleasure and satisfaction. He will be very much obliged to Dr.

Ducarel if he will favour him with a set of the prints separate;

which Mr. Walpole would be glad to put into his volumes of

English Heads; and shall be happy to have an opportunity of

returning these obligations.

(988) Entitled "Anglo-Norman Antiquities considered, in a Tour

through part of Normandy."-E.

Letter 327 To The Earl Of Strafford.

Strawberry Hill, July 29, 1767. (page 502)

My dear lord,

I am very sorry that I must speak of a loss that will give you

and Lady Strafforct concern; an essential loss to me, who am

deprived of a most agreeable friend, with whom I passed here many

hours. I need not say I mean poor Lady Suffolk.(989) I was with

her two hours on Saturday night; and, indeed, found her much

changed, though I did not apprehend her in danger. I was going

to say she complained--but you know she never did complain--of

the gout and rheumatism all over her, particularly in her face.

It was a cold night, and she sat below stairs when she should

have been in bed; and I doubt this want of care was prejudicial.

I sent next morning. She had a bad night; but grew much better

in the evening. Lady Dalkeith came to her; and, when she was

gone, Lady Suffolk said to Lord Chetwynd, "She would eat her

supper in her bedchamber." He went up with her, and thought the

appearances promised a good night: but she was scarce sat down in

her chair, before she pressed her hand to her side, and died in

half an hour.

I believe both your lordship and Lady Strafford will be surprised

to hear that she was by no means in the situation that most

people thought. Lord Chetwynd and myself were the only persons

at all acquainted with her affairs, and they were far from being

even easy to her. It is due to her memory to say, that I never

saw more strict honour and justice. She bore knowingly the

imputation of being covetous, at a time that the strictest

economy could by no means prevent her exceeding her income

considerably. The anguish of the last years of her life, though

concealed, flowed from the apprehension of not satisfying her few

wishes, which were, not to be in debt, and to make a provision

for Miss Hotham.(990) I can give your lordship strong instances

of the sacrifices she tried to make to her principles. I have

not yet heard if her will is opened; but it will surprise those

who thought her rich. Lord Chetwynd's friendship to her has been

unalterably kind and zealous, and has not ceased. He stays in

the house with Miss Hotham till some of her family come to take

her away. I have perhaps dwelt too long on this subject; but, as

it was not permitted me to do her justice when alive, I own I

cannot help wishing that those who had a regard for her, may at

least know how much more she deserved it than even they

suspected. In truth, I never knew a woman more respectable for

her honour and principles, and have lost few persons in my life

whom I shall miss so much. I am, etc.

(989) Henrietta Hobart, Countess of Suffolk. She died at Marble

Hall, on the 24th of July.-E.

(990) Her great-niece.

Letter 328 To George Montagu, Esq.

Arlington Street, July 31, 1767. (page 503)

I find one must cast you into debt, if one has a mind to hear of

you. You would drop one with all your heart, if one would let

you alone. Did not you talk of passing by Strawberry in June, on

a visit to the Bishop? I did not summon you, because I have not

been sure of my own motions for two days together for these three

months. At last all is subsided; the administration will go on

pretty much as it was, with Mr. Conway for part of it. The fools

and the rogues, or, if you like proper names, the Rockinghams and

the Grenvilles, have bungled their own game, quarrelled, and

thrown it away.

Where are you? What are you doing? Where are you going or

staying? I shall trip to Paris in about a fortnight, for a month

or six weeks. Indeed, I have had such a loss in poor Lady

Suffolk,(991) that my autumns at Strawberry will suffer

exceedingly, and will not be repaired by my Lord Buckingham. I

have been in pain, too, and am not quite easy about my brother,

who is in a bad state of health. Have you waded through or into

Lord Lyttelton?(992) How dull one may be, if one will but take

pains for six or seven-and-twenty years together! Except one

day's gout, which I cured with the boolikins, I have been quite

well since I saw you: nay, with a microscope you would perceive I

am fatter. Mr. Hawkins saw it with his naked eye, and told me

it was common for lean people to grow fat when they grow old. I

am afraid the latter is more certain than the former, I submit to

it with a good grace. There is no keeping off age by sticking

roses and sweet peas in one's hair, as Miss Chudleigh does still.

If you are not totally abandoned, you will send me a line before

I go. The Clive has been desperately nervous; but I have

convinced her it did not become her, and she has recovered her

rubicundity. Adieu!

(991) "Votre pauvre sourde!" writes Madame du Deffand to Walpole,

on the 3d of August. "Ah! mon Dieu! que j'en suis f`ach`ee;

c'est une veritable perte, et je la partage: j'aimais qu'elle

v`ecut; j'aimais son amiti`e pour vous; j'aimais votre

attachement pour elle: tout cela, ce me semble, m'`etait bon."-E.

(992) His "History of the Life of King Henry the Second, and of

the Age in which he lived," in four volumes quarto.-E.

Letter 329 To George Montagu, Esq.

Friday, Aug. 7, 1767. (page 503)

As I am turned knight-errant, and going again in search of my old

fairy,(993) I will certainly transport your enchanted casket, and

will endeavour to procure some talisman, that may secrete it from

the eyes of those unheroic harpies, the officers of the

customhouse, YOU must take care to let me have it before

to-morrow se'nnight.

The house at Twickenham with which you fell in love, is still

unmarried; but they ask a hundred and thirty pounds a-year for

it. If they asked one hundred and thirty thousand pounds for it,

perhaps my Lord Clive might snap it up; but that not being the

case, I don't doubt but it will fall, and I flatter myself, that

you and it may meet at last upon reasonable terms. That of

General Trapaud is to be had at fifty pounds a-year, but with a

fine on entrance of five hundred pounds. As I propose to return

by the beginning of October, perhaps I may see you, and then you

may review both. Since the loss of poor Lady Suffolk, I am more

desirous than ever of having you in my neighbourhood, as I have

not a rational acquaintance left. Adieu!

(993) Madame du Deffand. The following passages from her letters

to Walpole will best explain the reasons which induced him to

undertake the journey:--"Paris, 5 Juillet. Je crois entrevoir

que votre s`ejour ici vous inqui`ete, et que la complaisance qui

vous am`ene vous coute beaucoup; mais, mon Tuteur, songez au

plaisir que vous me ferez, quelle sera ma reconnaissance. Je ne

vous dirai point combien cette visite m'est necessaire; vous

jugerez par vous-m`eme si je vous en ai impose sur rien, et si

vous pourrez jamais vous repentir des marques d'amiti`e que vous

m'avez donn`ees. Mon Dieu! que nous aurons de sujets de

conversations!"--"Dimanche, 23 Ao`ut. Enfin, enfin, il n'y a plus

de mer qui nous s`epare; j'ai l'esperance de vous voir d`ees

aujoqrd'hui. J'ai pri`e hier Madame Simonetti d'envoyer chez moi

au moment de votre arriv`ee; si vous voulez venir chez MOi, comme

j'esp`ere, vous aurez sur le champ mon carrosse. Je me flatte

que demain vous dinerez et souperez avec moi t`ete-`a-t`ete; nous

en aurons bien `a dire. Sans cette maudite compagnie que j'ai si

sottement rassembl`ee, vous m'auriez trouv`ee chez vous `a la

d`escente de votre chaise; cela vous auroit fort d`eplu, mais je

m'en serois mocqu`ee." Madame Simonetti kept the H`otel garni du

Parc Royal, Rue du Colombie. In a journal which Walpole kept of

this journey to Paris, is the following entry:--"August 23.

Arrived at Paris a quarter before seven; at eight, to Madame du

Deffand's; found the Clairon acting Agrippine and Ph`edre. Not

tall; but I liked her acting better than I expected. Supped

there with her, and the Duchesse de Villeroi, d'Aiguillon, etC.

etc."-E.

Letter 330 To The Hon. H. S. Conway.(994)

Paris, Wednesday, Sept. 9, 1767. (page 504)

Last night by Lord Rochford's courier, we heard of Townshend's

death;(995) for which indeed your letter had prepared me. As a

man of incomparable parts, and most entertaining to a spectator,

I regret his death. His good-humour prevented one from hating

him, and his levity from loving him; but, in a political light, I

own I cannot look upon it as a misfortune. His treachery alarmed

me, and I apprehended every thing from it. It was not advisable

to throw him into the arms of the Opposition. His death avoids

both kinds of mischief. I take for granted you will have Lord

North for chancellor of the exchequer.(996) He is very inferior

to Charles in parts; but what he wants in those, will be supplied

by firmness and spirit.

With regard to my brother, I should apprehend nothing, were he

like other men; but I shall not be astonished, if he throws his

life away; and I have seen so much of the precariousness of it

lately, that I am prepared for the event, if it shall happen. I

will say nothing about Mr. Harris; he is an old man, and his

death will be natural. For Lord Chatham, he is really or

intentionally mad,--but I still doubt which of the two. Thomas

Walpole has writ to his brother here, that the day before Lord

Chatham set out for Pynsent, he executed a letter of attorney,

with full powers to his wife, and the moment it was signed he

began singing.(997)

You may depend upon it I shall only stay here to the end of the

month: but if you should want me sooner, I will set out at a

moment's warning, on your sending me a line by Lord Rochf'ord's

courier. This goes by Lady Mary Coke, who sets out to-morrow

morning early, on notice of Mr. Townshend's death, or she would

have stayed ten days longer. I sent you a letter by Mr.

Fletcher, but I fear he did not go away till the day before

yesterday.

I am just come from dining en famille with the Duke de Choiseul:

he was very civil--but much more civil to Mr. Wood,(998) who

dined there too. I imagine this gratitude to the peacemakers. I

must finish; for I am going to Lady Mary, and then return to sup

with the Duchess de Choiseul, who is not civiller to any body

than to me. Adieu! Yours ever.

(994) Now first printed.

(995) Mr. Charles Townshend died very unexpectedly, on the 4th of

September; he being then only in his forty-second year.-E.

(996) "The chancellorship of the exchequer," says Adolphus, "was

filled up ad interim by Lord Mansfield. It was offered to Lord

North, who, for some reasons which are not precisely known,

declined accepting it. The offer was subsequently made to Lord

Barrington; who declared his readiness to undertake the office,

if a renewed application to Lord North should fail: a fresh

negotiation was attempted with the Duke of Bedford, but without

effect, and at length Lord North was prevailed on to accept the

office. Mr. Thomas Townshend succeeded Lord North as paymaster,

and Mr. Jenkinson was appointed a lord of the treasury; Lord

Northington and General Conway resigning, Lord Gower was made

president of the council; Lord Weymouth, secretary of state; and

Lord Sandwich, joint postmaster-general. These promotions

indicated an accommodation between the ministry and the Bedford

party; and the cabinet was further strengthened by the

appointment of Lord Hillsborough to the office of secretary of

state for America. The ministry, thus modelled, was called the

Duke of Grafton's administration; for, although Lord Chatham

still retained his place, he was incapable of transacting

business."-E.

(997) Lord Chatham's enemies were constantly insinuating, that

his illness was a political one. For the real state of his

health at the time Walpole was penning this uncharitable passage,

see Lady Chatham's letter to Mr. Nuthall of the 17th of August,

and his lordship's own grateful and affectionate letter to Mr.

Thomas Walpole of the 30th of October. Correspondence, Vol. iii.

p. 282, 289.-E.

(998) Mr. Robert Wood. He was under-secretary of state at the

time of the treaty of Paris.-E.

Letter 331 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.

Arlington Street, Oct. 24, 1767. (page 505)

Dear Sir,

It is an age since we have had any correspondence. My long and

dangerous illness last year, with my journey to Bath; my long

attendance in Parliament all winter, spring, and to the beginning

of summer: and my journey to France since, from whence I returned

but last week,(999) prevented my asking the pleasure Of Seeing

you at Strawberry Hill.

I wish to hear that you have enjoyed your health, and shall be

glad of any news of you. The season is too late, and the

Parliament too near opening, for me to propose a winter journey

to you. if you should happen to think at all of London, I trust

you would do me the favour to call on me. In short, this is only

a letter of inquiry after YOU, and to show you that I am always

most truly yours.

(999) Walpole left Paris the 9th of October; on the morning of

which Madame du Deffand thus resumes her correspondence with

him:--"Que de lachet`e, de faiblesse, et de ridicules je vous ai

laiss`e voir! Je m'`etais bien promis le contrire; mais, mais--

oubliez tout cela, pardonnez-le moi, mon Tuteur, et ne pensez

plus `a votre Petite que pour vous dire qu'elle est raisonnable,

ob`eissante, et par-dessus tout reconnaissante; que son respect,

oui, je dis respect, que sa crainte, mais sa crainte filiale, son

tendre mais s`erieux attachement, feront jusqu'`a son dernier

moment le bonheur de sa vie. Qu'importe d'`etre vielle, d'`etre

aveugle; qu'importe le lieu qu'on habite; qu'importe que tout ce

qui environne soit sot ou Extravagant: quand l'`ame est fortement

occup`ee, il ne lui manque rien que l'objet qui l'occupe; et

quand cet objet repond `a ce qu'on sent pour lui, on n'a plus

rien desirer."-E.

Letter 332 To George Montagu, Esq.

Strawberry Hill, Sunday, Nov. 1, 1767. (page 506)

The house is taken that you wot of, but I believe you may have

General Trapaud's for fifty pounds a-year, and a fine of two

hundred and fifty, which is less by half, look you, than you was

told at first. A jury of matrons, composed of Lady Frances, my

Dame Bramston, Lady Pembroke, and Lady Carberry, and the merry

Catholic Lady Brown, have sat upon it, and decide that you should

take it. But you must come and treat in person, and may hold the

congress here. I hear Lord Guildford is much better, so that the

exchequer will still find you in funds. You will not dislike to

hear, shall you, that Mr Conway does not take the appointments of

secretary of state. if it grows the fashion to give up above

five thousand pounds a-year, this ministry will last for ever;

for I do not think the Opposition will struggle for places

without salaries. If my Lord Ligonier does not go to heaven, or

Sir Robert Rich to the devil soon, our General will run

considerably in debt; but he had better be too poor than too

rich. I would not have him die like old Pulteney, loaded with

the spoils of other families and the crimes of his own. Adieu! I

will not write to you any more, so you may as well come. Yours

ever.

Letter 333 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.

Strawberry Hill, Dec. 19, 1767. (page 506)

You are now, I reckon, settled in your new habitation:(1000) I

would not interrupt you in your journeyings, dear Sir, but am not

at all pleased that you are seated so little to your mind; and

yet I think you will stay there. Cambridge and Ely are

neighbourhoods to your taste, and if you do not again shift your

quarters, I shall make them and you a visit: Ely I have never

seen. I Could have wished that you had preferred this part of the

world; and yet, I trust, I shall see you here oftener than I have

done of late. This, to my great satisfaction, is my last session

of Parliament; to which, and to politics, I shall ever bid adieu!

I did not go to Paris for my health, though I found the journey

and the seasickness, which I had never experienced before,

contributed to it greatly. I have not been so well for some

years as I am at present, and if I continue to plump up as I do

at present, I do not know but by the time we may meet, whether

you may not discover, without a microscope, that I am really

fatter. I went to make a visit to my dear old blind woman, and

to see some things I could not see in winter.

For the Catholic religion, I think it very consumptive. With a

little patience, if Whitfield, Wesley, my Lady Huntingdon, and

that rogue Madan(1001) live, I do not doubt but we shall have

something very like it here. And yet I had rather live at the

end of a tawdry religion, than at the beginning; which is always

more stern and hypocritic.

I shall be very glad to see your laborious work of the maps; you

are indefatigable, I know: I think mapping would try my patience

more than any thing.

My Richard the Third will go to press this week, and you shall

have one of the first copies, which I think will be in about a

month, if you will tell me how to convey it: direct to Arlington

street. Mr. Gray went to Cambridge yesterday se'nnight: I wait

for some papers from him for my purpose. I grieve for your

sufferings by the inundation; but you are not only an hermit,

but, what is better, a real philosopher. Let me hear from you

soon. Yours ever.

(1000) Mr. Cole had lately removed from Bleckeley, Bucks, to

Waterbeach, near Cambridge.

(1001) The Rev. Martin Madan, author of "Thelypthora," a defence

of a plurality of wives. In 1767, he subjected himself to much

obloquy, by dissuading a clerical friend from giving up a

benefice, which he had accepted under a solemn promise of

eventual resignation.-E.

Letter 334 To Sir David Dalrymple.(1002)

Strawberry Hill, Jan. 17, 1768. (page 507)

I will begin, Sir, with telling you that I have seen Mr. Sherriff

and his son. The father desired my opinion on sending his son to

Italy. I own I could by no means advise it. Where a genius is

indubitable and has already made much progress, the study of

antique and the works of the great masters may improve a young

man extremely, and open lights to him which he might never

discover of himself: but it is very different sending a young man

to Rome to try whether he has genius or not; which may be

ascertained with infinitely less trouble and expense at home.

Young Mr. Sherriff has certainly a disposition to drawing; but

that may not be genius. His misfortune may have made him embrace

it as a resource in his melancholy hours. Labouring under the

misfortune of deafness, his friends should consider to what

unhappiness they may expose him. His family have naturally

applied to alleviate his misfortune, and to cultivate the parts

they saw in him: but who, in so long a journey and at such a

distance, is to attend him in the same affectionate manner? Can

he shift for himself, especially without the language? who will

take the trouble at Rome of assisting him, instructing him,

pointing out to him what he should study? who will facilitate

the means to him of gaining access to palaces and churches, and

obtain permission for him to work there? I felt so much for the

distresses he must undergo, that I could not see the benefits to

accrue, and those eventual, as a compensation. Surely, Sir, it

were better to place him here with some painter for a year or

two. He does not seem to me to be grounded enough for such an

expedition.

I will beg to know how I may convey my Richard to you, which will

be published to-morrow fortnight. I do not wonder you could not

guess the discovery I have made. It is one of the most

marvellous that ever was made. In short, it is the original

coronation roll of Richard the Third, by which it appears that

very magnificent robes were ordered for Edward the Fifth, and

that he did, or was to have walked at his uncle's coronation.

This most valuable monument is in the Great Wardrobe. It is not,

though the most extraordinary the only thing that will much

surprise you in my work. But I will not anticipate what little

amusement you may find there. I am, Sir, etc.

(1002) Now first collected.

Letter 335 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.

Arlington Street, Feb. 1, 1768. (page 508)

Dear Sir,

I have waited for the impression of my Richard, to send you the

whole parcel together. This moment I have conveyed to Mr.

Cartwright a large bundle for you, containing Richard the

Third,(1003) the four volumes of the new edition of the

Anecdotes, and six prints of your relation Tuer. You will find

his head very small: but the original was too inconsiderable to

allow it to be larger. I have sent you no Patagon`eans;(1004)

for they are out of print: I have only my own copy, and could not

get another. Pray tell me how, or what you heard of it; and

tell me sincerely, for I did not know it had made any noise.

I shall be much obliged to you for the extract relating to the

Academy of which a Walpole was president. I doubt if he was of

our branch; and rather think he was of the younger and Roman

Catholic branch.

Are you reconciled to your new habitation? Don't you find it too

damp? and if you do, don't deceive yourself, and try to surmount

it, but remove immediately. Health is the most important of all

considerations. Adieu! dear Sir.

(1003) "Historic Doubts on the Life and Reign of King Richard the

Third, by Mr. Horace Walpole;" London, 1768, 4to. Two editions

of this work, which occasioned a good deal of historical

controversy, were published during the year.-E.

(1004) "An Account of the Giants lately discovered; in a letter

to a friend in the country." London, 1766, 8vo. It was

afterwards translated into French by the Chevalier Redmond, an

Irish officer in the French service.-E.

Letter 336 To Sir David Dalrymple.(1005)

Arlington Street, Feb. 2, 1768. (page 509)

I have sent to Mr. Cadell my Historic Doubts, Sir, for you. I

hope they may draw forth more materials, which I shall be very

ready either to subscribe to or to adopt. In this view I must

beg you, Sir, to look into Speed's History of England, and in his

account of Perkin Warbeck you will find Bishop Leslie often

quoted. May I trouble you to ask, to what work that alludes, and

whether in print or MS.? Bishop Leslie lived under Queen

Elizabeth, and though he could know nothing of Perkin Warbeck,

was yet near enough to the time to have had much better materials

than we have. May I ask, too, if Perkin Warbeck's Proclamation

exists any where authentically? You will see in my book the

reason of all these questions.

I am so much hurried with it just now, that you will excuse my

being so brief. I can attribute to nothing but the curiosity of

the subject, the great demand for it; though it was sold publicly

but yesterday, and twelve hundred and fifty copies were printed,

Dodsley has been with me this morning to tell me he must prepare

another edition directly. I am, Sir, etc.

(1005) Now first collected.

Letter 337 To Mr. Gray.

Arlington Street, Feb. 18, 1768. (page 509)

You have sent me a long and very obliging letter, and yet I am

extremely out of humour with you. I saw Poems by Mr. Gray

advertised: I called directly at Dodsley's to know if this was to

be more than a new edition? He was not at home himself, but his

foreman told me he thought there were some new pieces, and notes

to the whole. It was very unkind, not only to go out of town

without mentioning them to me, without showing them to me, but

not to say a word of them in this letter. Do you think I am

indifferent, or not curious, about what you write? I have ceased

to ask you, because you have so long refused to show me any

thing. You could not suppose I thought that you never write.

No; but I concluded you did not intend, at least yet, to publish

what you had written. As you did intend it, I might have

expected a month's preference. You will do me the Justice to own

that I had always rather have seen your writings than have shown

you mine; which you know are the most hasty trifles in the world,

and which, though I may be fond of the subject when fresh, I

constantly forget in a very short time after they are published.

This would sound like affectation to others, but will not to you.

It would be affected, even to you, to say I am indifferent to

fame. I certainly am not, but I am indifferent to almost any

thing I have done to acquire it. The greater part are mere

compilations; and no wonder they are, as you say, incorrect, when

they are commonly written with people in the room, as Richard and

the Noble Authors were. But I doubt there is a more intrinsic

fault in them: which is, that I cannot correct them. If I write

tolerably, it must be -,it once; I can neither mend nor add. The

articles of Lord Capel and Lord Peterborough, in the second

edition of the Noble Authors, cost me more trouble than all the

rest together: and you may perceive that the worst part of

Richard, in point of ease and style, is what relates to the

papers you gave me on Jane Shore, because it was taken on so long

afterwards, and when my impetus was chilled. If some time or

other you will take the trouble of pointing out the inaccuracies

of' 'It, I shall be much obliged to you: at present I shall

meddle no more with it. It has taken its fate; nor did I mean to

complain. I found it was Condemned indeed beforehand, which was

what I alluded to. Since publication (as has happened to me

before) the success has gone beyond my expectation.

Not only at Cambridge, but here there have been people wise

enough to think me too free with the King of Prussia!(1006) A

newspaper has talked of my known inveteracy to him. Truly, I

love him as well as I do most kings. The greater offence is my

reflection on Lord Clarendon. It is forgotten that I had

overpraised him before. Pray turn to the new State Papers, from

which, it is said, he composed his history. You will find they

are the papers from which he did not compose his history. And

yet I admire my Lord Clarendon more than these pretended admirers

do. But I do not intend to justify myself. I can as little

satisfy those who complain that I do not let them know what

really did happen. If this inquiry can ferret out any truth, I

shall be glad. I have picked up a few more circumstances. I now

want to know what Perkin Warbeck's Proclamation was, which Speed

in his history says is preserved by Bishop Leslie. If you look

in Speed, perhaps you will be able to assist me.

The Duke of Richmond and Lord Lyttelton agree with you, that I

have not disculpated Richard of the murder of Henry VI. I own to

you, it is the crime of which in my own mind I believe him most

guiltless. Had I thought he committed it, I should never have

taken the trouble to apologize-for the rest. I am not at all

positive or obstinate on your other objections, nor know exactly

what I believe on many points of this story. And I am so

sincere, that, except a few notes hereafter, I shall leave the

matter to be settled or discussed by others. As you have written

much too little, I have written a great deal too much, and think

only of finishing the two or three other things I have begun--and

of those, nothing but the last volume of Painters is designed for

the present public. What has one to do when turned fifty, but

really think of finishing?(1007)

I am much obliged and flattered by Mr. Mason's approbation, and

particularly by having had almost the same thought with him. I

said, "People need not be angry at my excusing Richard; I have

not diminished their fund of hatred, I have only transferred it

from Richard to Henry." Well, but I have found you close with

Mason--No doubt, cry Prating I, something will come out.(1008)-

-Oh! no--leave us, both of you, to Annabellas and Epistles to

Ferney,(1009) that give Voltaire an account of his own tragedies,

to +Macarony fables that are more unintelligible than Pilpay's

are in the original, to Mr. Thornton's hurdy-gurdy poetry'(1010)

and to Mr. ***** who has imitated himself worse than any fop in

a magazine would have done. In truth, if you should abandon us,

I could not wonder--When Garrick's prologues and epilogues, his

own Cymons and farces, and the comedies of the fools that pay

court to him, are the delight of the age, it does not deserve any

thing better. Pray read the new account of Corsica. What

relates to Paoli will amuse you much. There is a deal about the

island and its divisions that one does not care a straw for. The

author, Boswell,(1011) is a strange being, and, like Cambridge,

has a rage of knowing any body that ever was talked of. He

forced himself upon me at Paris in spite of my teeth and my

doors, and I see has given a foolish account of all he could pick

up from me about King Theodore. He then took an antipathy to me

on Rousseau's account, abused me in the newspapers, and exhorted

Rousseau to do so too: but as he came to see me no more, I

forgave all the rest. I see he now is a little sick of Rousseau

himself; but I hope it will not cure him of his anger to me.

However, his book will I am sure entertain you.(1012)

I will add but a word or two more. I am criticised for the

expression tinker up in the preface. Is this one of those that

you object to? I own I think such a low expression, placed to

ridicule an absurd instance of wise folly, very forcible.

Replace it with an elevated word or phrase, and to my conception

it becomes as flat as possible.

George Selwyn says I may, if I please, write historic doubts on

the present Duke of Grafton too. Indeed, they would be doubts,

for I know nothing certainly.

Will you be so kind as to look into Leslie De Rebus Scotorum, and

see if Perkin's Proclamation is there, and if there, how

authenticated. You will find in Speed my reason for asking this.

I have written in such a hurry, I believe you will scarce be able

to read my letter--and as I have just been writing French,

perhaps the sense may not be clearer than the writing. Adieu!

(1006) Gray, in a letter to Mr. Walpole, of the 14th, had said--

"I have heard it objected, that you raise doubts and

difficulties, and do not satisfy them by telling us what is

really the case. I have heard you charged with disrespect to the

King of Prussia; and above all, to King William and the

Revolution. My own objections are little more essential: they

relate chiefly to inaccuracies of style, which either debase the

expression or obscure the meaning. As to your argument@ most of

the principal parts are made out with a clearness and evidence

that no one would expect, where materials are so scarce. Yet I

still suspect Richard of the murder of Henry the Sixth." Works,

vol. iv. p. 105.-E.

(1007) To this Gray, on the 25th, replied--"To what you say to me

so civilly, that I ought to write more, I answer in your own

words, (like the Pamphleteer, who is going to refute you out of

your own mouth,) what has one to do, when turned fifty, but

really to think of finishing? However, I will be candid (for you

seem to be so with me), and avow to you, that, till fourscore and

ten, whenever the humour takes me, I will write, because I like

it; and because I like myself better when I do so. If I do not

write much, it is because I cannot." Works, vol. iv. p. 111.-E.

(1008) "I found him close with Swift."--"Indeed?"--"No doubt,"

Cries prating Balbus, "something will come out." Pope.

(1009) Keate's "Ferney; an Epistle to M. Voltaire."-E.

(1010) His burlesque Ode on St. Cecilia's Day; with the humour of

which Dr. Johnson was much diverted, and used to repeat this

passage--

"In strains more exalted the salt-box shall join,

And clattering and battering and clapping combine,

With a rap and a tap, while the hollow side sounds,

Up and down leaps the flap, and with rattling rebounds.-E.

(1011) "Your history," wrote Dr. Johnson to Boswell, "is like

other histories, but your journal is, in a very high degree,

curious and delightful: there is between them that difference

which there will always be found between notions borrowed from

without and notions generated within. Your history was copied

from books; your journal rose out of your own experience and

observation. I know not whether I could name any narrative by

which curiosity is better excited or better gratified."-E.

(1012) To this Gray replies--,'Mr. Boswell's book has pleased and

moved me strangely; all, I mean, that relates to Paoli. He is a

man born two thousand years after his time! The pamphlet proves

what I have always maintained, that any fool may write a most

valuable book by chance, if he will only tell us what he heard

and saw with veracity. Of Mr. Boswell's truth I have not the

least suspicion, because I am sure be could invent nothing of

this kind. The true title of this part of his work is a Dialogue

between a Green Goose and a Hero." Works, vol. iv. p. 112.-E.

Letter 338 To Mr. Gray.

Arlington Street, Friday night, Feb. 26, 1768. (page 512)

I plague you to death, but I must reply a few more words. I

shall be very glad to see in print, and to have those that are

worthy, see your ancient Odes; but I was in hopes there were some

pieces. too, that I had not seen. I am sorry there are

not.(1013)

I troubled you about Perkin's Proclamation. because Mr. Hume lays

great stress upon it, and insists, that if Perkin affirmed that

his brother was killed, it must have been true, if he was true

Duke of York. Mr. Hume would have persuaded me that the

Proclamation is in Stowe, but I can find no such thing there;

nor, what is more, in Casley's Catalogue, which I have twice

looked over carefully. I wrote to Sir David Dalrymple In

Scotland, to inquire after it; because I would produce it if I

could, though it should make against me: but he, I believe,

thinking I inquired with the contrary view, replied very drily,

that it was published at York, and was not to be found in

Scotland. Whether he is displeased that I have plucked a hair

from the tresses of their great historian; or whether, as I

suspect, he is offended for King William; this reply was all the

notice he took of my letter and book. I only smiled; as I must

do when I find one party is angry with me on King William's, and

the other on Lord Clarendon's account.

The answer advertised is Guthrie's, who is furious that I have

taken no notice of his History. I shall take as little of his

pamphlet; but his end will be answered, if he sells that and one

or two copies of his History.(1014) Mr. Hume, I am told, has

drawn up an answer too, which I shall see, and, if I can, will

get him to publish; for, if I should ever choose to say any thing

more on this subject, I had rather reply to him than to

hackney-writers:--to the latter, indeed, I never will reply. A

few notes I have to add that will be very material; and I wish to

get some account of a book that was once sold at Osborn's, that

exists perhaps at Cambridge, and of which I found a memorandum

t'other day in my note-book. It is called A Paradox, or Apology

for Richard the Third, by Sir William Cornwallis.(1015) If you

could discover it, I should be much obliged to you.

Lord Sandwich, with whom I have not exchanged a syllable since

the general warrants, very obligingly sent me an account of the

roll at Kimbolton; and has since, at my desire, borrowed it for

me and sent it to town.(1016) It is as long as my Lord

Lyttelton's History; but by what I can read of it (for it is both

ill written and much decayed), it is not a roll of kings, but of

all that have been possessed of, or been Earls of Warwick: or

have not--for one of the first earls is Aeneas. How, or

wherefore, I do not know, but amongst the first is Richard the

Third, in whose reign it was finished, and with whom it

concludes. He is there again with his wife and son, and Edward

the Fourth, and Clarence and his wife, and Edward their son (who

unluckily is a little old man), and Margaret Countess of

Salisbury, their daughter.--But why do I say with these? There

is every body else too and what is most meritorious, the habits

of all the times are admirably well observed from the most savage

ages. Each figure is tricked with a pen, well drawn, but neither

Coloured nor shaded. Richard is straight, but thinner than my

print; his hair short, and exactly curled in the same manner; not

so handsome as mine, but what one might really believe intended

for the same countenance, as drawn by a different painter,

especially when so small; for the figures in general are not so

long as one's finger. His queen is ugly, and with just such a

square forehead as in my print, but I cannot say like it. Nor,

indeed, where forty-five figures out of fifty (I have not counted

the number) must have been imaginary, can one lay great stress on

the five. I shall, however, have these figures copied,

especially as I know Of no other image of the son. Mr. Astle is

to come to Me tomorrow morning to explain the writing.

I wish you had told me in what age your Franciscan friars lived;

and what the passage in Comines is. I am very ready to make

amende honorable. Thank you for the notes on the Noble Authors.

They shall be inserted when I make a new edition, for the sake of

the trouble the person has taken, though they are of little

consequence. Dodsley has asked me for a new edition; but I have

had little heart to undertake such work, no more than to mend my

old linen. It is pity one cannot be born an ancient, and have

commentators to do such jobs for one! Adieu! Yours ever.

Saturday morning.

On reading over your letter again this morning, I do find the age

in which the friars lived--I read and write in such a hurry, that

I think I neither know what I read or say.

(1013) Gray, in his letter of the 25th, had said:--"The Long

Story was to be totally omitted, as its only use (that of

explaining the plates) was gone; but, to supply the place of it

in bulk, lest my works should be mistaken for the works of a flea

or a pismire I promised to send him an equal weight of poetry or

prose; so I put up about two ounces of stuff, viz. The Fatal

Sisters; The Descent of Odin; a bit of something from the Welch,

and certain little Notes, partly from justice-,, partly from ill-

temper, just to tell the gentle reader that Edward 1. was not

Oliver Cromwell, nor Queen Elizabeth the Witch of Endor. This is

literally all; and with all this, I shall be but a shrimp of an

author." Works, vol. iv. P. 110.-E.

(1014) Gray, in his answer of the 6th of March, says--"Guthrie,

you see, has vented himself in the Critical Review. His History

I never saw, nor is it here, nor do I know any one that ever saw

it. He is a rascal; but rascals may chance to meet with curious

records." Works, vol. iv. p. 116.-E.

(1015) "The Praise of King Richard the Third," which was

published by Sir William Cornwallis, Knight, the celebrated

"Essayist," in 1617, is reprinted in the third volume of the

Somers' Collection of Tracts.-E.

(1016) From this roll were taken the two plates of portraits in

the Historic Doubts.

Letter 339 To George Montagu, Esq.

Arlington Street, March 12, 1768. (page 514)

The house, etc. described in the enclosed advertisement I Should

think might suit you; I am sure its being in my neighbourhood

would make me glad, if it did. I know no more than what you will

find in this scrap of paper, nor what the rent is, nor whether it

has a chamber as big as Westminster-hall; but as you have flown

about the world, and are returned to your ark without finding a

place to rest your foot, I should think you might as well inquire

about the house I notify to you, as set out with your caravan to

Greatworth, like a Tartar chief; especially as the laws of this

country will not permit you to stop in the first meadow you like,

and turn your horses to grazing without saying by your leave.

As my senatorial dignity is gone,(1017) and the sight of my name

is no longer worth threepence, I shall not put you to the expense

of a cover, and I hope the advertisement will not be taxed, as I

seal it to the paper. In short, I retain so much iniquity from

the last infamous Parliament that you see I would still cheat the

public. The comfort I feel in sitting peaceably here, instead of

being at Lynn in the high fever of a contested election, which at

best would end in my being carried about that large town like the

figure of a pope at a bonfire, is very great. I do not think,

when that function is over, that I shall repent my resolution.

What could I see but sons and grandsons playing over the same

knaveries, that I have seen their fathers and Grandfathers act?

Could I hear oratory beyond my Lord Chatham's? Will there ever

be parts equal to Charles Townshend's? Will George Grenville

cease to be the most tiresome of beings? Will he not be

constantly whining, and droning, and interrupting, like a

cigala(1018) in a sultry day in Italy.

Guthrie has published two criticisms on my Richard;(1019) one

abusive in the Critical Review; t'other very civil and even

flattering in a pamphlet; both so stupid and contemptible, that I

rather prefer the first, as making some attempt at vivacity; but

in point of argument, nay, and of humour, at which he makes an

effort too, both things are below scorn. As an instance of the

former, he says, the Duke of Clarence might die of drinking sack,

and so be said to be drowned in a butt of malmsey; of the latter

sort, are his calling the Lady Bridget Lady Biddy, and the Duke

of York poor little fellow! I will weary you with no more such

stuff!

The weather is so very March, that I cannot enjoy my new holidays

at Strawberry yet; I sit reading and writing close to the fire.

Sterne has published two little volumes, called Sentimental

Travels. They are very pleasing, though too much dilated, and

infinitely preferable to his tiresome Tristram Shandy, of which I

never could get through three volumes. In these there is a great

good-nature and strokes of delicacy. Gray has added to his poems

three ancient Odes from Norway and Wales. The subjects of the

two first are grand and picturesque, and there is his genuine

vein in them; but they are not interesting, and do not, like his

other poems, touch any passion. Our human feelings, which he

masters at will in his former pieces, are here not

affected.(1020) Who can care through what horrors a Runic savage

arrived at all the joys and glories they could conceive, the

supreme felicity of boozing ale out of the skull of an enemy in

Odin's hall? Oh! yes, just now perhaps these odes would be

toasted at many a contested election. Adieu! Yours ever.

(1017) Walpole had retired from Parliament at the general

election in the beginning of this year.-E.

(1018) "The shrill cicalas, people of the pine,

Making their summer lives one ceaseless song,

Were the sole echoes, save my steed's and mine,

And vesper-bells that rose the boughs along."

Don Juan, c. iii. st. 106.-E.

(1019) Walpole's work is thus characterized by Sir Walter Scott:-

-"The Historical Doubts are an acute and curious example how

minute antiquarian research may shake our faith in the facts most

pointedly averred by general history. It is remarkable also to

observe how, in defending a system, which was probably at first

adopted as a mere literary exercise, Mr. Walpole's doubts

acquired, in his own eyes, the respectability of certainties, in

which he could not brook controversy." Prose Works; vol. iii. p.

304.-E.

(1020) "They strike, rather than please; the images are magnified

by affectation; the language is laboured into harshness. The

mind of the writer seems to work with unnatural violence.

Double, double, toil and trouble! There is too little appearance

of ease and nature." Johnson.-E.

Letter 340 To George Montagu, Esq.

Strawberry Hill, April 15, 1768. (page 516)

Mr. Chute tells me that you have taken a new house in Squireland,

and have given yourself up for two years more to port and

parsons. I am very angry, and resign you to the works of the

devil or the church, I don't care which. You will get the gout,

turn Methodist, and expect to ride to heaven upon your own great

foe. I was happy with your telling me how well you love me, and

though I don't love loving, I could have poured out all the

fullness of my heart to such an old and true friend; but what am

I the better for it, if I am to see you but two or three days in

the year? I thought you would at last come and while away the

remainder of life on the banks of the Thames in gaiety and old

tales. I have quitted the stage, and the Clive is preparing to

leave it. We shall neither of us ever be grave: dowagers roost

all round us and you could never want cards or mirth. Will you

end like a fat farmer, repeating annually the price of oats, and

discussing stale newspapers? There have you got, I hear into an

old gallery that has not been glazed since Queen Elizabeth, and

under the nose of an infant Duke and Duchess, that will

understand you no more than if you wore a ruff and a coif, and

talked to them of a call of serjeants the year of the Spanish

armada! Your wit and humour will be as much lost upon them, as

if you talked the dialect of Chaucer; for with all the divinity

of wit, it grows out of fashion like a fardingale. I am

convinced that the young men at White's already laugh at George

Selwyn's bon-mots only by tradition. I avoid talking before the

youth of the age as I would dancing before them; for if one's

tongue don't move in the steps of the day, and thinks to please

by its old graces, it is only an object of ridicule, like Mrs.

Hobart in her cotilion. I tell you we should get together, and

comfort ourselves with reflecting on the brave days that we have

known--not that I think people were a jot more clever or wise in

our youth than now, are now; but as my system is always to live

in a vision as much as I can, and as visions don't increase with

years, there is nothing so natural as to think one remembers what

one does not remember.

I have finished my tragedy,(1021) but as you would not bear the

subject, I will say no more of it, but that Mr. Chute, who is not

easily pleased, likes it, and Gray, who is still more difficult,

approves it.(1022) I am not yet intoxicated enough with it to

think it would do for the stage, though I wish to see it acted;

but, as Mrs. Pritchard(1023) leaves the stage next month, I know

nobody could play the Countess; nor am I disposed to expose

myself to the impertinent eyes of that jackanapes Garrick, who

lets nothing appear but his own wretched stuff, or that of

creatures still duller, who suffer him to alter their pieces as

he pleases. I have written an epilogue in character for the

Clive, which she would speak admirably; but I am not so sure that

she would like to speak it. Mr. Conway, Lady Aylesbury, Lady

Lyttelton, and Miss Rich, are to come hither the day after

to-morrow, and Mr. Conway and I are to read my play to them; for

I have not strength enough to go through the whole alone.(1024)

My press is revived, and is printing a French play written by the

old President Henault.(1025) It was damned many years ago at

Paris, and yet I think it is better than some that have

succeeded, and much better than any of our modern tragedies. I

print it to please the old man, as he was exceedingly kind to me

at Paris; but I doubt whether he will live till it is

finished.(1026) He is to have a hundred copies, and there are to

be but a hundred more, Of Which You shall have one.

Adieu! though I am very angry with you, I deserve all your

friendship, by that I have for you, witness my anger and

disappointment. Yours ever.

P. S. Send me your new direction, and tell me when I must begin

to use it.

(1021) The Mysterious Mother. See vol. i. p. 57.-E.

(1022) Of this tragedy Lord Byron was also an approver: "It is

the fashion," he says, "to underrate Horace Walpole; firstly,

because he was a nobleman; and secondly, because he was a

gentleman; but, to say nothing of the composition of his

incomparable Letters, and of the Castle of Otranto, he is the

ultimus Romanorum, the author of the Mysterious Mother; a tragedy

of the highest order, and not a puling love.play."-E.

(1023) This celebrated actress, who excelled alike in tragedy and

comedy, took leave of the stage in May, in the part of Lady

Macbeth, and died at Bath in the following August.-E.

(1024) Walpole, in a letter to Madame du Deffand, of the 11th of

March, speaking of the "Honn`ete Criminel," a copy of which she

had sent him, gives her the following account of his own

tragedy:--"L'Honn`ete Criminel me paroit assez m`ediocre. Ma

propre trag`edie a de bien plus grands d`efauts, mais au moins

elle ne ressemble pas au toout compass`e tet r`egl`e du si`ecle.

Il ne vous plairoit pas assur`ement; il n'y a pas de beaux

Sentiments: il n'y a que des passions sans envelope, des crimes,

des repentis, et des horreurs. Je crois qu'il y a beaucoup plus

de mauvais que de bon, et je sais s`urement que depuis le premier

acte jusqu'a la derni`ere sc`ene l'int`er`et languit au lieu

d'augmenter: peut-il avoir on plus grand d`efaut?"-E.

(1025) Corn`elie, a manuscript tragedy, written by the Pr`esident

Henault in early life.

(1026) He died in Novembor 1770, at the age of eighty-six.-E.

Letter 341 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.

Strawberry Hill, April 16, 1768. (page 517)

Well, dear Sir, does your new habitation improve as the spring

advances? There has been dry weather and east wind enough to

parch the fens. We find that the severe beginning of this last

winter has made terrible havoc among the evergreens, though of

old standing. Half my cypresses have been bewitched, and turned

into brooms; and the laurustinus is every where perished. I am

Goth enough to choose now and then to believe in prognostics; and

I hope this destruction imports, that, though foreigners should

take root here, they cannot last in this climate. I would fain

persuade myself, that we are to be our own empire to eternity.

The Duke of Manchester has lent me an invaluable curiosity; I

mean invaluable to us antiquaries: but perhaps I have already

mentioned it to you; I forgot whether I have or no. It is the

original roll of the Earls of Warwick, as long as my gallery, and

drawn by John Rous(1027) himself. Ay, and what is more, there

are portraits of Richard III., his Queen, and son; the two former

corresponding almost exactly with my print; and a panegyric on

the virtues of Richard, and a satire, upwards and downwards, on

the illegal marriage of Edward IV., and on the extortions of

Henry VII. I have had these and seven other portraits copied,

and shall, some time or other, give plates of them. But I wait

for an excuse; I mean till Mr. Hume shall publish a few remarks

he has made on my book: they are very far from substantial; yet

still better than any other trash that has been written against

it, nothing of which deserves an answer.

I have long had thoughts of drawing up something for London like

St. Foix's Rues de Paris,(1028) and have made some collections.

I wish You Would be so good, in the course of your reading, to

mark down any passage to that end: as where any great houses of

nobility were situated; or in what street any memorable event

happened. I fear the subject will not furnish much till later

times, as our princes kept their courts up and down the country

in such a vagrant manner.

I expect Mr. Gray and Mr. Mason to pass the day with me here

to-morrow. When I am more settled here I shall put you in mind

of your promise to bestow more than one day on me.

I hope the Methodist, your neighbour, does not, like his

patriarch Whitfield, encourage the people to forge, murder, etc.

in order to have the benefit of being converted at the gallows.

That arch-rogue preached lately a funeral sermon on one Gibson,

hanged for forgery, and told his audience, that he could assure

them Gibson was now in heaven, and that another fellow, executed

at the same time, had the happiness of touching Gibson's coat as

he was turned off. As little as you and I agree about a hundred

years ago, I don't desire a reign of fanatics. Oxford has begun

with these rascals, and I hope Cambridge will wake. I don't mean

that I would have them persecuted, which is what they wish; but I

would have the clergy fight them and ridicule them. Adieu! dear

Sir. Yours ever.

(1027) John Rous, the historian of Warwickshire, "who," according

to Walpole in his Anecdotes of Painting, "drew his own portrait,

and other semblances, but in too rude a style to be called

painting."-E.

(1028) Essais Historiques sur Paris, par

Germain-Fran`cois-Poulain de Saint Foix; of which an English

translation was published in 1767.-E.

Letter 342 To The Rev. Mr. Cole.

Strawberry Hill, June 6, 1768. (page 519)

You have told me what makes me both sorry and glad.(1029) Long

have I expected the appearance of Ely, and thought it at the eve

of coming forth. Now you tell me it is not half written; but

then I am rejoiced you are to write it. Pray do; the author is

very much in the right to make you author for him. I cannot say

you have addressed yourself quite so judiciously as he has. I

never heard of Cardinal Lewis de Luxembourg in my days, nor have

a scrap of the history of Normandy, but Ducarel's tour to the

Conqueror's kitchen. But the best way will be to come and

rummage my library yourself: not to set me to writing the lives

of prelates: I shall strip them stark, and you will have them to

reconsecrate. Cardinal Morton is at your service: pray say for

him, and of me, what you please. I have very slender opinion of

his integrity; but as I am not spiteful, It would be hard to

exact from you a less favourable account of him than I conclude

your piety will bestow on all his predecessors and successors.

Seriously, you know how little I take contradiction to heart, and

beg you will have no scruples about defending Morton. When I

bestow but a momentary smile on the abuse of any answerers, I am

not likely to stint a friend in a fair and obliging remark.

The man that you mention, who calls himself "Impartialis," is, I

suppose some hackney historian, I shall never inquire, whom,

angry at being censured in the jump, and not named. I foretold he

would drop his criticisms before he entered on Perkin Warbeck,

which I knew he could not answer; and so it happened. Good night

to him!

Unfortunately, I am no culinary antiquary - the Bishop of

Carlisle, who is, I have oft heard talk of a sotelle, as an

ancient dish. He is rambling between London, flagley, and

Carlisle, that I do not know where to consult him: but, if the

book is not printed before winter, I am sure he could translate

your bill of fare into modern phrase. As I trust I shall see you

some time this summer, you might bring your papers with you, and

we will try what we can make of them. Tell me, do, when it will

be most convenient for you to come, from now to the end of

October. At the same time, I will beg to see the letters of the

university to King Richard; and shall be still more obliged to

you for the print of Jane Shore.(1030) I have a very bad

mezzotinto of her, either from the picture at Cambridge or Eton.

I wish I could return these favours by contributing to the

decoration of your new old house: but, as you know, I erected an

old house, not demolished one. I had no windows, or frames for

windows, but what I bespoke on purpose for the places where they

are. My painted glass was so exhausted, before I got through my

design, that I was forced to have the windows in the Battery

painted on purpose by Pecket. What scraps I have remaining are

so bad I cannot make you pay for the carriage of them, as I think

there is not one whole piece; but you shall see them when you

come hither, and I will search if I can find any thing for your

purpose. I am sure I owe it you. Adieu! Yours ever.

(1029) This is in reply to one of Mr. Cole's letters, wherein he

had informed Mr. Walpole, that he had undertaken to write the

history of some of' the Bishops of Ely for the History of Ely

Cathedral, and requested some particulars relating to Cardinal

Lewis de Luxembourg; and to be informed the meaning of the French

word sotalle or sotelle. Mr. Cole also proposed to controvert an

opinion of Mr. Walpole's respecting Cardinal Morton.

(1030) This appears, from the copy of Cole's previous letter, to

have been an engraving done by Mr. Tyson of Bennett's College,

from the picture in the Provost's lodge.

Letter 343 To George Montagu, Esq.

Strawberry Hill, June 15, 1768. (page 520)

No, I cannot be so false as to say I am glad you are pleased with

your situation. You are so apt to take root, that it requires

ten years to dig you out again when you once begin to settle. As

you go pitching your tent up and down, I wish you were still more

a Tartar, and shifted your quarters perpetually. Yes, I will

come and see you, but tell me first, when do your Duke and

Duchess travel to the north? I know that he is a very amiable

lad, and I do not know that she is not as amiable a laddess, but

I had rather see their house comfortably when they are not there.

I perceive the deluge fell upon you before it reached us. It

began here but on Monday last, and then rained near

eight-and-forty hours without intermission. My poor hay has not

a dry thread to its back. I have had a fire these three days.

In short, every summer one lives in a state of mutiny and murmur,

and I have found the reason: it is because we will affect to have

a summer, and we have no title to any such thing. Our poets

learnt their trade of the Romans, and so adopted the terms of

their masters. They talk of shady groves, purling streams, and

cooling breezes, and we get sore throats and agues with

attempting to realize these visions. Master Damon writes a song,

and invites Miss Chloe to enjoy the cool of the evening, and the

deuce a bit have we of any such thing as a cool evening. Zephyr

is a northeast wind, that makes Damon button up to the chin, and

pinches Chloe's nose till it is red and blue; and then they cry,

this is a bad summer! as if we ever had any other. The best sun

we have is made of Newcastle coal, and I am determined never to

reckon upon any other. We ruin ourselves with inviting over

foreign trees and make our houses clamber up hills to look at

prospects. How our ancestors would laugh at us, who knew there

was no being comfortable, unless you had a high hill before your

nose, and a thick warm wood at your back! Taste is too freezing

a commodity for us, and, depend upon it, will go out of fashion

again.

There is indeed a natural warmth in this country, which, as you

say, I am very glad not to enjoy any longer; I mean the hothouse

in St. Stephen's chapel. My own sagacity makes me very vain,

though there was very little merit in it. I had seen so much of

all parties, that I had little esteem left for any; it is most

indifferent to me who is in or -who is out, or which is set in

the pillory, Mr. Wilkes or my Lord Mansfield. I see the country

going to ruin, and no man with brains enough to save it. That is

mortifying ; but what signifies who has the undoing it? I seldom

suffer myself to think on this subject: my patriotism could do no

good, and my philosophy can make me be at peace.

I am sorry you are likely to lose your poor cousin Lady

Hinchinbrook;(1031) I heard a very bad account of her when I was

last in town. Your letter to Madame Roland shall be taken care

of; but as you are so scrupulous of making me pay postage, I must

remember not to overcharge you, as I can frank my idle letters no

longer; therefore, good night!

P. S. I was in town last week, and found Mr. Chute still

confined. He had a return in his shoulder, but I think it more

rheumatism than gout.

(1031) Elizabeth, wife of John Viscount Hinchinbroke, afterwards

fifth Earl of Sandwich, was the only surviving daughter of

George, second and last Earl of Halifax. Her ladyship died on

the 1st of July 1768, leaving a son, George Viscount

Hinchinbroke, who died sine prole, in 1790.-E.

Letter 344 To The Hon. H. S. Conway.(1032)

Strawberry Hill, June 16, 1768. (page 521)

I am glad you have writ to me, for I wanted to write to you, and

did not know what to say. I have been but two nights in town,

and then heard of nothing but Wilkes, of whom I am tired to

death, and of T. Townshend, the truth of whose story I did not

know; and indeed the tone of the age has made me so uncharitable,

that I concluded his ill-humour was put on, in order to be

mollified with the reversion of his father's place, which I know

he has long wanted; and the destination of the Pay-office has

been so long notified, that I had no notion of his not liking the

arrangement. For the new Paymaster,(1033) I could not think him

worth writing a letter on purpose. By your letter and the

enclosed I find Townshend has been very ill-treated, and I like

his spirit in not bearing such neglect and contempt, though

wrapped up in 2700 pounds a-year.

What can one say of the Duke of Grafton, but that his whole

conduct is childish, insolent, inconstant, and absurd--nay,

ruinous? Because we are not in confusion enough, he makes every

thing as bad as possible, neglecting on one hand, and taking no

precaution on the other. I neither see how it is possible for

him to remain minister, nor whom to put in his place. No

government, no police, London and Middlesex distracted, the

colonies in rebellion, Ireland ready to be so, and France

arrogant, and on the point of being hostile! Lord Bute accused of

all and dying of a panic; George Grenville wanting to make rage

desperate; Lord Rockingham the Duke of Portland, and the

Cavendishes thinking we have no enemies but Lord Bute and Dyson,

and that four mutes and an epigram can set every thing to rights,

the Duke of Grafton like an apprentice, thinking the world should

be postponed to a whore and a horserace; and the Bedfords not

caring what disgraces we undergo, while each of them has 3000

pounds a-year and three thousand bottles of claret and champagne!

Not but that I believe these last good folks are still not

satisfied with the satisfaction of their wishes. They have the

favour of the Duke of Grafton, but neither his confidence nor his

company; so that they can neither sell the places in his gift nor

his secrets. Indeed, they,' have not the same reasons to be

displeased with him as you have; for they were his enemies and

you his friend--and therefore he embraced them and dropped you,

and I believe would be puzzled to give a tolerable reason for

either.