TO THE HON. H.S. CONWAY.

TWICKENHAM, _June_ 8, 1747.

You perceive by my date that I am got into a new camp, and have left my

tub at Windsor. It is a little plaything-house that I got out of Mrs.

Chenevix's shop, and is the prettiest bauble you ever saw. It is set in

enamelled meadows, with filigree hedges:

A small Euphrates through the piece is told,

And little finches wave their wings in gold.

Two delightful roads, that you would call dusty, supply me continually

with coaches and chaises: barges as solemn as Barons of the Exchequer

move under my window; Richmond Hill and Ham walks bound my prospect;

but, thank God! the Thames is between me and the Duchess of Queensberry.

Dowagers as plenty as flounders inhabit all around, and Pope's ghost is

just now skimming under my window by a most poetical moonlight. I have

about land enough to keep such a farm as Noah's, when he set up in the

ark with a pair of each kind; but my cottage is rather cleaner than I

believe his was after they had been cooped up together forty days. The

Chenevixes had tricked it out for themselves: up two pair of stairs is

what they call Mr. Chenevix's library, furnished with three maps, one

shelf, a bust of Sir Isaac Newton, and a lame telescope without any

glasses. Lord John Sackville _predecessed_ me here, and instituted

certain games called _cricketalia_, which have been celebrated this

very evening in honour of him in a neighbouring meadow.

You will think I have removed my philosophy from Windsor with my

tea-things hither; for I am writing to you in all this tranquillity,

while a Parliament is bursting about my ears. You know it is going to be

dissolved: I am told, you are taken care of, though I don't know where,

nor whether anybody that chooses you will quarrel with me because he

does choose you, as that little bug the Marquis of Rockingham did; one

of the calamities of my life which I have bore as abominably well as I

do most about which I don't care. They say the Prince has taken up two

hundred thousand pounds, to carry elections which he won't carry:--he

had much better have saved it to buy the Parliament after it is chosen.

A new set of peers are in embryo, to add more dignity to the silence of

the House of Lords.

I made no remarks on your campaign, because, as you say, you do nothing

at all; which, though very proper nutriment for a thinking head, does

not do quite so well to write upon. If any one of you can but contrive

to be shot upon your post, it is all we desire, shall look upon it as a

great curiosity, and will take care to set up a monument to the person

so slain; as we are doing by vote to Captain Cornewall, who was killed

at the beginning of the action in the Mediterranean four years ago. In

the present dearth of glory, he is canonized; though, poor man! he had

been tried twice the year before for cowardice.

I could tell you much election news, none else; though not being

thoroughly attentive to so important a subject, as to be sure one ought

to be, I might now and then mistake, and give you a candidate for Durham

in place of one for Southampton, or name the returning officer instead

of the candidate. In general, I believe, it is much as usual--those sold

in detail that afterwards will be sold in the representation--the

ministers bribing Jacobites to choose friends of their own--the name of

well-wishers to the present establishment, and patriots outbidding

ministers that they may make the better market of their own

patriotism:--in short, all England, under some name or other, is just

now to be bought and sold; though, whenever we become posterity and

forefathers, we shall be in high repute for wisdom and virtue. My

great-great-grandchildren will figure me with a white beard down to my

girdle; and Mr. Pitt's will believe him unspotted enough to have walked

over nine hundred hot ploughshares, without hurting the sole of his

foot. How merry my ghost will be, and shake its ears to hear itself

quoted as a person of consummate prudence! Adieu, dear Harry!

Yours ever.

_HIS MODE OF LIFE--PLANTING--PROPHECIES OF NEW METHODS AND NEW

DISCOVERIES IN A FUTURE GENERATION._

Letters of Horace Walpole — Volume I · 第 74 / 143 题