Front matter (continued 9)

Lady Ailesbury has promised me Guinea-eggs for you, but they have not yet begun to lay I am well acquainted with Lady Craven's little tale, dedicated to me.(384) It is careless and incorrect, but there are very pretty things in it. I will stop, for I fear I have written to you too much lately. One you did not mention: I think it was of the 28th of last month.

(381) "A View of Northumberland; with an Excursion to the Abbey of Melrose, Scotland, in the year 1776;" by William Hutchinson, F. A. S. Two volumes 4to.; 1778-80.-E.

(382) the work here alluded to was written by Sir Herbert Croft, Bart. It was a compound of fact and fiction called "Love and Madness, a Story too true, in a Series of Letters between Parties, whose names would, perhaps, be mentioned, were they less known or less lamented. London, 1780." The work ran through several editions. In 1800, Sir Herbert published, "Chatterton and Love and Madness, in a Letter from Sir Herbert Croft to Mr. Nichols." Boswell says, that Dr. Johnson greatly disapproved of mingling real facts with fiction, and on this account censured "Love and Madness."-E.

(383) See vol. iii. p. 63, letter 25, note 64.-E.

(384) Entitled "The Miniature Picture."-E.

Letter 190 To The Rev. Mr. Cole. Berkeley Square, March 30, 1780. (page 248)

I cannot be told that you are extremely ill, and refrain from begging to hear that you are better. Let me have but one line; if it is good, 'it will satisfy me. If you was not out of order, I would scold you for again making excuses about the Noble Authors; it was not kind to be so formal about a trifle.

We do not differ so much in politics as you think, for when they grow too serious, they are so far from inflaming my zeal, they make me more moderate: and I can as easily discern the faults on my own side as on the other; nor would assist Whigs more than Tories in altering the constitution. The project of annual parliaments, or of adding a hundred members to the House of Commons would, I think, be very unwise, and will never have my approbation—but a temperate man is not likely to be listened to in turbulent times; and when one has not youth and lungs, or ambition, to make oneself attended to, one can only be silent and lament, and preserve oneself blameless of any mischief that is done or attempted.

Letter 191 To The Rev. Mr. Cole. Berkeley Square, May 11, 1780. (page 248)

Mr. Godfrey, the engraver, told me yesterday that Mr. Tyson is dead.(385) I am sorry for it, though he had left me off. A much older friend of mine died yesterday; but of whom I must say the same, George Montagu, whom you must remember at Eton and Cambridge. I should have been exceedingly concerned for him a few years ago but he had dropped me, partly from politics and partly from caprice, for we never had any quarrel; but he was grown an excessive humourist, and had shed almost all his friends as well as me. He had parts, and infinite vivacity and originality till of late years; and it grieved me much that he had changed towards me, after a friendship of between thirty and forty years.

I am told that a nephew of the provost of King's has preached and printed a most flaming sermon, which condemns the whole Opposition to the stake. Pray who is it, and on what occasion? Mr. Bryant has published an Answer to Dr. Priestley.(386) I bought it, but though I have a great value for the author, the subject is so metaphysical, and so above human decision, I soon laid it aside. I hope you can send me a good account of yourself, though the spring is so unfavourable. Yours most sincerely.

(385) Mr. Cole, in a letter of the 14th, says, "the loss of poor Mr. Tyson shocked and afflicted me more than I thought it possible I could have been afflicted: since the loss of Mr. Gray, I have lamented no one so much. God rest his soul! I hope he is happy; and, was it not for those he has left behind, I am so much of a philosopher, now the affair is over, I would prefer the exchange."-E.

(386) It was entitled "An Address to Dr. Priestley upon his Doctrine of Philosophical Necessity Illustrated."-E.

@Letter 192 To The Rev. Mr. Cole. Friday night, May 19, 1780. (page 249)

By tomorrow's coach you will receive a box of Guinea-hens' eggs, which Lady Ailesbury sent me to-day from Park-place. I hope they will arrive safe and all be hatched.

I thank you for the account of the sermon and the portrait of the uncle. They will satisfy me without buying the former. As I knew Mr. Joseph Spence,(387) I do not think I should have been so much delighted as Dr. Kippis with reading his letters. He was a good-natured, harmless little soul, but more like a silver penny than a genius. It was a neat, fiddle-faddle, bit of sterling, that had read good books and kept good company, but was too trifling for use, and only fit to please a child.

I hesitate on purchasing Mr. Gough's second edition. I do not think there was a guinea's worth of entertainment in the first; how can the additions be worth a guinea and a half? I have been aware of the royal author you tell me of, and have noted him for a future edition; but that will not appear in my own time; because, besides that, it will have the castrations in my original copy, and other editions, that I am not impatient to produce. I have been solicited to reprint the work, but do not think it fair to give a very imperfect edition when I could print it complete, which I do not choose to do, as I have an aversion to literary squabbles: one seems to think one's self too important when one engages in a controversy on one's writings; and when one does not vindicate them, the answerer passes for victor, as you see Dr. Kippis allots the palm to Dr. Milles, though you know I have so much more to say in defence of my hypothesis. I have actually some hopes of still more, of which I have heard, but till I see it, I shall not reckon upon it as on my side.

Mr. lort told me of King James's Procession to St. Paul's; but they ask such a price for it, and I care so little for James I., that I have not been to look at the picture.

Your electioneering will probably be increased immediately. Old Mr. Thomas Townshend is at the point of death.(388) The Parliament will probably be dissolved before another session. We wanted nothing but drink to inflame our madness, which I do not confine to politics; but what signifies it to throw out general censures? We old folks are apt to think nobody wise but ourselves. I wish the disgraces of these last two or three years did not justify a little severity more than flows from the peevishness of years! Yours ever.

(387) See Vol. I. p, 168, letter 29.-E.

(388) The Right Hon. Thomas Townshend, son of Charles second Viscount Townshend, many years member for the University of Cambridge. He died a few days after the date of this letter. He was a most elegant scholar, and lived in acquaintance and familiarity with most of the considerable men of his time. In early life he entered into the secretary of state's office under his father, whom he accompanied in his journeys to Germany with George the First and Second. At the time of his death he was in his seventy-ninth year.-E.

Letter 193 To The Rev. Mr. Cole. Berkeley Square, May 30, 1780. (page 250)

I hope you will bring your eggs to a fair market. At last I have got from Bonus my altar-doors which I bought at Mr. Ives's; he has repaired them admirably. I would not suffer him to repaint or varnish them. There are indubitably Duke Humphrey of Gloucester, Cardinal Beaufort, and Archbishop Kemp. The fourth I cannot make out. It is a man in a crimson garment lined with white, and not tonsured. He is in the stable with cattle, and has the air of Joseph; but over his head hangs a large shield with these arms. * * *(389) The Cornish choughs are sable on or; the other three divisions are gules, on the first of which is a gold crescent.

The second arms have three bulls' heads sable, horned or. The chevron was so changed that Bonus thought it sable; but I think it was gules, and then it would be Bullen or Boleyn. Lord de Ferrars says, that the first are the arms of Sir Bartholomew Tate, who he finds married a Sanders. Edmondson's new Dictionary of Heraldry confirms both arms for Tate and Sanders, except that Sanders bore the chevron erminc, which it may have been. But what I wish to discover IS, whether Sir Bartholomew Tate was a benefactor to St. Edmundsbury, whence these doors came, or was in any shape a retainer to the Duke of Gloucester or Cardinal Beaufort. The Duke's and Sir Bartholomew's figures were on the insides of the doors (which I have had sawed into four panels,) and are painted in a far superior style to the Cardinal and the Archbishop, which are very hard and dry. The two others are so good that they are in the style of the school of the Caracci. They at least were painted by some Italian; the draperies have large and bold folds, and One wonders how they could be executed in the reign of Henry VI. I shall be very glad if you can help me to any lights, at least about Sir Bartholomew. I intend to place them in my chapel, as they will aptly accompany the shrine. The Duke and Archbishop's agree perfectly with their portraits in my Marriage of Henry VI., and prove how rightly I guessed. The Cardinal's is rather a longer and thinner visage, but that he might have in the latter end of life; and in the Marriage he has the red bonnet on, which shortens his face. On the door he is represented in the character he ought to have possessed, a pious, contrite look, not the truer resemblance which Shakspeare drew— "He dies, and makes no sign!"—but Annibal Caracci himself could not paint like our Raphael poet! Pray don't venture yourself in any more electioneering riots: you see the mob do not respect poets, nor, I suppose, antiquaries.

P. S. I am in no haste for an answer to my queries.

(389) Here Mr. Walpole had sketched in a rough draught of the arms.

Letter 194 To Mrs. Abington.(390) Strawberry Hill, June 11, 1780. (page 251)

Madam, You may certainly always command me and my house. My common custom is to give a ticket for only four persons at a time but it would be very insolent in me, when all laws are set at nought, to pretend to prescribe rules. At such times there is a shadow of authority in setting the laws aside by the legislature itself; and though I have no army to supply their place, I declare Mrs. Abington may march through all my dominions at the head of as large a troop as she pleases. I do not say, as she can muster and command; for then I am sure my house would not hold them. The day, too, is at her own choice; and the master is her very obedient humble servant.

(390) Now first printed.

Letter 195 To The Earl Of Strafford. Strawberry Hill, June 12, 1780. (page 251)

My dear lord, If the late events had been within the common proportion of news, I would have tried to entertain your lordship with an account of them; but they were far beyond that size, and could only create horror and indignation. Religion has often been the cloak of injustice, outrage, and villany: in our late tumults,(391) it scarce kept on its mask a moment; its persecution was downright robbery; and it was so drunk that it killed its banditti faster than they could plunder. The tumults have been carried on in so violent and scandalous a manner, that I trust they will have no copies. When prisons are levelled to the ground, when the Bank is aimed at, and reformation is attempted by conflagrations, the savages of Canada are the only fit allies of Lord George Gordon(392) and his crew. The Tower is much too dignified a prison for him-but he had left no other.

I came out of town on Friday, having seen a good deal of the shocking transactions of Wednesday night—in fact, it was difficult to be in London, and not to see or think some part of it in flames. I saw those of the King's Bench, New Prison, and those on the three sides of the Fleet-market, which turned into one blaze.(393) The town and parks are now one camp—the next disagreeable sight to the capital being in ashes. It will still not have been a fatal tragedy, if it brings the nation one and all to their senses. It will still be not quite an unhappy country, if we reflect that the old constitution, exactly as it was in the last reign, was the most desirable of any in the universe. It made us then the first people in Europe—we have a vast deal of ground to recover—but can we take a better path than that which King William pointed out to us? I mean the system he left us at the Revolution. I am averse to all changes of it—it fitted us just as it was.

For some time even individuals must be upon their guard. Our new and now imprisoned apostle has delivered so many Saint Peters from gaol, that one hears of nothing but robberies on the highway. Your lordship's sister, Lady Browne, and I have been at Twickenham-park this evening, and kept together, and had a horseman at our return. Baron d'Aguilar was shot at in that very lane on Thursday night. A troop of the fugitives had rendezvoused in Combe Wood, and were dislodged thence yesterday by the light horse.

I do not know a syllable but what relates to these disturbances. The newspapers have neglected few truths. Lies, without their natural propensity to falsehoods, they could not avoid, for every minute produces some, at least exaggerations. We were threatened with swarms of good Protestants `a br`uler from all quarters, and report sent various detachments on similar errands; but thank God they have been but reports! Oh! when shall we have peace and tranquility? I hope your lordship and Lady Strafford will at least enjoy the latter in your charming woods. I have long doubted which of our passions is the strongest—perhaps every one of them is equally strong in some person or other-but I have no doubt but ambition is the most detestable, and the most inexcusable; for its mischiefs are by far the most extensive, and its enjoyments by no means proportioned to its anxieties. The latter, I believe, is the case of most passions—but then all but ambition cost little pain to any but the possessor. An ambitious man must be divested of all feeling but for himself. The torment of others is his high-road to happiness. Were the transmigration of souls true, and accompanied by consciousness, how delighted would Alexander or Croesus be to find themselves on four legs, and divested of a wish to conquer new worlds, or to heap up all the wealth of this! Adieu, my dear lord!

(391) The riots of 1780, when Lord George Gordon raised a no-popery cry, and assembled many thousand persons in St. George's Fields, to accompany him to the House of Commons, with a petition for the repeal of the act passed for the relief of the Roman Catholics in the preceding session. The petition was, of course, rejected; which being communicated to the mob by Lord George, they dispersed for a while, but on that evening commenced their work of mischief, destroying two Catholic chapels in Duke-street and Warwick-street: Newgate and all the other prisons were likewise fired; the Bank was attempted; and the riot was not quelled until 210 persons were killed and 248 wounded, of whom seventy-five died in the hospitals. Lord George was committed to the Tower; and many of the ringleaders, after being tried by special commissioners, suffered the extreme penalty of the law.-E.

(392) Lord George Gordon was brother of Alexander Duke of Gordon. He was considered not to be at all times of sound mind. Some years after his acquittal, on the indictment preferred against him in the Court of King's Bench as instigator of the riots, he was convicted of a libel on Marie Antoinette and Count d'Ademar, one of the French ministry. To avoid punishment, he fled the country; but shortly afterwards was discovered at Birmingham in the garb of a Jew, and committed to Newgate, pursuant to his sentence, where he lived some time, professing the Jewish religion, having undergone the extreme rites of it, and where he died, in November 1793.-E.

(393) In her reply to a letter from Walpole, giving an account of these riots, Madame du Deffand says—"Rien n'est plus affreux que tout ce qui arrive chez vous. Votre libert`e ne me s`eduit point; cette libert`e tant vant`ee me paroit bien plus on`ereuse que notre esclavage; mais il ne m'appartient pas de traitor de telles mati`eres: permettez-moi de bl`amer votre indiscr`etion, de vous aller promener dans les rues pendant ce vacarme."-E.

Letter 196 To The Rev. Mr. Cole. Strawberry Hill, June 15, 1780. (page 253)

You may like to know one is alive, dear Sir, after a massacre, and the conflagration of a capital. I was in it, both on the Friday and on the Black Wednesday; the most horrible sight I ever beheld, and which, for six hours together, I expected to end in half the town being reduced to ashes. I can give you little account of the original of this shocking affair; negligence was certainly its nurse, and religion only its godmother. The ostensible author is in the Tower. Twelve or fourteen thousand men have quelled all tumults; and as no bad account is come from the country, except for a moment at Bath, and as eight days have passed,—nay, more, since the commencement, I flatter myself the whole nation is shocked at the scene; and that, if plan there was, it was laid only in and for the metropolis. The lowest and most villanous of the people, and to no great amount, were almost the sole actors.

/I hope your electioneering riotry(394) has not, nor will mix in these tumults. It would be most absurd; for Lord Rockingham, the Duke of Richmond, Sir George Saville, and Mr. Burke, the patrons of toleration, were devoted to destruction as much as the ministers. The rails torn from Sir George's house were the chief weapons and instruments of the mob. For the honour of the nation I should be glad to have it proved that the French were the engineers. You and I have lived too long for our comfort—shall we close our eyes in peace? I will not trouble you more about the arms I sent you: I should like that they were those of the family of Boleyn; and since I cannot be sure they were not, why should not I fancy them so? I revert to the prayer for peace. You and I, that can amuse ourselves with our books and papers, feel as much indignation at the turbulent as they have scorn for us. It is hard at least that they who disturb nobody can have no asylum in which to pursue their innoxious indolence Who is secure against Jack Straw and a whirlwind? How I abominate Mr. Banks and Dr. Solander, who routed the poor Otaheitans out of the centre of the ocean, and carried our abominable passions amongst them! not even that poor little specie could escape European restlessness. Well, I have seen many tempestuous scenes, and outlived them! the present prospect is too thick to see through- -it is well hope never forsakes us. Adieu!

(394) Of the "electioneering riotry" going on at this time in Cambridgeshire, Mr. Cole, in a letter of the 14th of May, gives the following account:—"Electioneering madness and faction have inflamed this country to such a degree, that the peace it has enjoyed for above half a century may take as long a time before it returns again. Yesterday, the three candidates were nominated; the Duke of Rutland's brother, the late Mr. Charles Yorke's son, and Sir Sampson Gideon, whose expenses for this month have been enormous, beyond all belief. Sending my servant on a particular message to Sir Sampson, he found him in bed, not well, and probably half asleep; for he not only wrote the direction to two covers which I sent him, but sealed them both, though they were only covers. I wonder, indeed, that he is alive, considering the immense fatigue and necessary drinking he must undergo—a miserable hard task to get into Parliament!" The contest terminated in the return of Lord Robert Manners, who died, in April 1782, of the wounds he received in the great sea-fight in the West Indies; and of Mr. Philip Yorke, who, in 1790, succeeded his uncle as Earl of Hardwicke.-E.

Letter 197 To The Rev. Mr. Cole. Strawberry Hill, July 4, 1780. (page 254)

I answer your letter the moment I receive it, to beg you will by no means take any notice, not even in directly and without My name, of the Life of Mr. Baker. I am earnest against its being known to exist. I should be teased to show it. Mr. Gough might inquire about it—I do not desire his acquaintance; and above all am determined, if I can help it, to have no controversy while I live. You know I have hitherto suppressed my answers to the critics of Richard III. for that reason; and above all things, I hate theologic or political controversy-nor need you fear my disputing with you, though we disagree very considerably indeed about Papist's and Presbyterians. I hope you have not yet sent the manuscript to Mr. Lort, and if you have not, do entreat you to deface undecipherably what you have said about my Life of Mr. Baker.

Pray satisfy me that no mention of it shall appear in print. I can by no means consent to it, and I am sure you will prevent it. Yours sincerely.

Letter 198 To The Earl Of Strafford. Strawberry Hill, Sept. 9, 1780. (page 255)

I am very happy at receiving a letter from your lordship this moment, as I thought it very long since we had corresponded, but am afraid of being troublesome, when I have not the excuse of thanking you, or something worth telling you, which in truth is not the case at present. No soul, whether interested or not, but deafens one about elections. I always detested them, even when in Parliament; and when I lived a good deal at White's, preferred hearing of Newmarket to elections; for the former, being uttered in a language I did not understand, did not engage my attention; but as they talked of elections in English, I could not help knowing what they said. It does surprise me, I own, that people can choose to stuff their heads with details and circumstances. of which in six weeks they will never hear or think more. The weather till now has been the chief topic of conversation. Of late it has been the third very hot summer; but refreshed by so little rain, that the banks of the Thames have been and are, I believe, like those of the Manzanares. The night before last we had some good showers, and to-day a thick fog has dissolved in some as thin as gauze. Still I am not quite sorry to enjoy the weather of adust climates without their tempests and insects. Lady Cowper I lately visited, and but lately: if what I hear is true, I shall be a gainer, for they talk of Lord Duncannon having her house at Richmond: like your lordship, I confess I was surprised at his choice. I know nothing to the prejudice of the young lady;(395) but I should not have selected, for so gentle and very amiable a man, a sister of the empress of fashion,(396) nor a daughter of the goddess of wisdom.(397)

They talk of great disssatisfactions in the fleet. Geary and Barrington are certainly retired. It looks, if this deplorable war should continue, as if all our commanders by sea and land were to be disgraced or disgusted.

The people here have christened Mr. Shirley's new house, Spite-hall.(398) It is dismal to think that one may live to seventy-seven, and go out of the world doing as ill-natured an act as possible! When I am reduced to detail the gazette of Twickenham, I had better release your lordship; but either way it is from the utmost attention and respect for your lordship and Lady Strafford, as I am ever most devotedly and gratefully yours.

(395) In the following November, Lord Duncannon married Henrietta-Frances, second daughter of John first Earl Spencer.-E.

(396) Georgiana, eldest daughter of John first Earl Spencer; married, in 1774, to the Duke of Devonshire.-E.

(397) Margaret-Georgiana, daughter of the Right Hon. Stephen Poyntz; married, in 1755, to John first Earl Spencer.-E.

(398) Because built, it was said, on purpose to intercept a view of the Thames from his opposite neighbour.

letter 199 To The Rev. Mr. Cole. Strawberry Hill, Sept. 27, 1780. (page 256)

Dear Sir, I MUST inquire how you do after all your election agitations, which have growled even around your hermitage. Candidates and their emissaries are like Pope's authors,

"They pierce our thickets, through our groves they glide."

However, I have barred my doors; and when I would not go to an election for myself, I would not for any one else.

Has not a third real summer, and so very dry one, assisted your complaints? I have been remarkably well, and better than for these five years. Would I could say the same of all my friends— but, alas! I expect every day to hear that I have lost my dear old friend Madame du Deffand.(399) She was indeed near eighty-four, but retained all her interior faculties—two days ago the letters from Paris forbade all hopes. So I reckon myself dead as to France, where I have kept up no other connexion.

I am going at last to publish my fourth volume of Painters, which, though printed so long, I have literally treated by Horace's rule, "Nonumque prematur in nonum." Tell me how I shall send it to you. Yours ever.

(399) In the last letter Madame du Deffand ever wrote to Walpole, dated the 22d of August, she thus describes her situation:—"Je vous mandai dans ma derni`ere que je ne me portais pas bien; c'cst encore pis aujourd'hui. Je suis d'une faiblesse et d'un abattement excessifs; Ma voix est `eteinte, je ne puis me soutenir sur mes jambes, je ne puis me donner aucun mouvement, j'ai le coeur envolopp`e; j'ai de la peine `a croire que cet `etat ne m'annonce une fin prochaine. Je n'ai pas la force d'en `etre effray`ee; et, ne vous devant revoir de ma vie, je n'a rien `a regretter. Divertissez-vous, mon ami, le plus que vous pourrez; ne vous affligez point de mon `etat; nous `etions presque perdus l'un pour l'autre; nous ne nous devions jamais revoir! vous me regretterez, parce qu'on est bien-aise de se savoir aim`e. Peut-`etre que par la suite Wiart vous mandera de mes nouvelles; c'est une fatigue pour moi de dicter." From this day she kept her bed. On the 8th of September Mr. Walpole had written to her, expressing his great anxiety for her. To his inquiries she was unable to dictate an answer. Her anteroom continued every day crowded with the persons who had before surrounded her supper-table. Her weakness became excessive; but she suffered no pain, and possessed her memory, understanding, and ideas till within the last eight days of her existence, when a lethargic insensibility took which terminated in death, without effort or struggle, on the 24th of September. She was buried, according to her own direction, in the plainest manner, in her parish church of St. Sulpice. To Mr. Walpole she bequeathed the whole of her manuscripts, papers, letters, and books, of every description; with a permission to the Prince of Beauvau to take a copy of any of the papers he might desire.-E.

Letter 200 To The Rev. Mr. Cole. Berkeley Square, Oct. 3, 1780. (page 256)

I did not go to Malvern, and therefore cannot certify you, my good Sir, whether Tom Hearne mistook stone for brass or not, though I dare to say your criticism is just.

My book, if I can possibly, shall go to the inn to-morrow, or next day at least. You will find a great deal of rubbish in it, with all your partiality—but I shall have done with it.

I cannot thank you enough for your goodness about your notes that you promised Mr. Grose; but I cannot possibly be less generous and less disinterested, nor can by any means be the cause of your breaking your word. In short, I insist on your sending your notes to him—and as to my Life of Mr. Baker, if it is known to exist, nobody can make me produce it sooner than I please, nor at all if I do not please; so pray send your accounts, and leave me to be stout with our antiquaries, or curious. I shall not satisfy the latter, and don't care a straw for the former.

The Master of Pembroke (who he is, I don't know(400)) is like the lover who said,

"Have I not seen thee where thou hast not been?"

I have been in Kent with Mr. Barrett, but was not at Ramsgate; the Master, going thither, perhaps saw me. It is a mistake not worth rectifying. I have no time for more, being in the midst of the delivery of my books. Yours ever.

(400) Dr. James Brown; see ante, p. 62, letter 36.-E.

Letter 201 To The Rev. Mr. Cole. Berkeley Square, Nov. 11, 1780. (page 257)

I am afraid you are not well, my good Sir; for you are so obligingly punctual, that I think you would have acknowledged the receipt of my last volume, if you were not out of order.

Lord Dacre lent me the new edition of Mr. Gough's Topography, and the ancient maps and quantity of additions tempted me to buy it. I have not gone through much above the half of the first volume, and find it more entertaining than the first edition. This is no partiality; for I think he seems rather disposed, though civilly, to find cavils with me. Indeed, in the passage in which I am most mentioned, he not only gives a very confused, but quite a wrong account: as in other places, he records some trifles in my possession not worth recording—but I know that we antiquaries are but too apt to think, that whatever has had the honour of entering our ears, is worthy of being laid before the eyes of every body else. The story I mean is P. ix. of the preface. Now the three volumes of drawings and tombs, by Mr. Lethueillier and Sir Charles Frederick, for which Mr. Gough says I refused two hundred pounds, are now Lord Bute's, are not Lord Bute's, but mine, and for which I never was offered two hundred pounds, and for which I gave sixty pounds—full enough. The circumstances were much more entertaining than Mr. G.'s perplexed account. Bishop Lyttelton told me Sir Charles Frederick complained of Mr. L.'s not bequeathing them to him, as he had been a joint labourer with him; and that Sir Charles wished I Would not bid against him for them, as they were to be sold by auction. I said this was a very reasonable request, and that I was ready to oblige Sir Charles; but as I heard others meant to bid high for the books, I should wish to know how far he would go, and that I would not oppose him; but should the books exceed the price Sir Charles was willing to give, I should like to be at liberty to bid for them against others. However, added I, as Sir Charles (who lived then in Berkelyey-square, as I did then in Arlington-street,) passes by my door every time he goes to the House of Commons, if he will call on me, We will make such agreement. You will scarce believe the sequel. The dignity of Sir Charles Frederick was hurt that I should propose his making me the first visit, though to serve himself—nothing could be more out of my imagination than the ceremonial of visits; though when he was so simple as to make a point of it, I could not see how in any light I was called on to make the first visit—and so the treaty ended; and so I bought the books. There was another work, I think in two volumes, which was their Diary of Their Tour, with a few slight views. Bishop Lyttelton proposed them to me, and engaged to get them for me from Mr. Lethueillier's sister for ten guineas. She hesitated, the Bishop died, I thought no more of them, and they may be what Lord Bute has. There is another assertion in Mr. Gough, which I can authentically Contradict. He says Sir Matthew Decker first introduced ananas, p. 134. My very curious picture of Rose, the royal gardener, presenting the first ananas to Charles II. proves the culture here earlier by several years.

At page 373, he seems to doubt my assertion of Gravelot's making drawings of tombs in Gloucestershire, because he never met with any engravings from them. I took my account from Vertue, who certainly knew what he said. I bought at Vertue's own sale some of Gravelot's drawings of our regal monuments, which Vertue engraved: but, which is stronger, Mr. Gough himself a few pages after, viz. in p. 387, mentions Gravelot's drawing of Tewkesbury church; which being in Gloucestershire, Mr. G. might have believed me that Gravelot did draw in that county. This is a little like Mr. Masters's being angry with me for taking liberties with bishops and chancellors, and then abusing grossly one who had been both bishop and chancellor. I forgot that in the note on Sir Charles Frederick, Mr. Gough calls Mr. Worseley, Wortley. In page 354, he says Rooker exhibited a drawing of Waltham-cross to the Royal Academy of Sciences—pray where is that academy? I suppose he means that of painting. I find a few omissions; one very comical; he says Penshurst was celebrated by Ben Jonson, and seems Perfectly in the dark as to how much more fame it owes to Waller. We antiquaries are a little apt to get laughed at for knowing what every body has forgotten, and for being ignorant of what every child knows. Do not tell him of these things, for I do not wish to vex him. I hope I was mistaken, and shall hear that you are well. Yours ever.

Letter 202 To The Rev. Mr. Cole. Berkeley Square, Nov. 24, 1780. (page 259)

I am sorry I was so much in the right in guessing you had been ill, but at our age there is little sagacity in such divination. In my present holidays from the gout, I have a little rheumatism, or some of those accompaniments.

I have made several more notes to the new Topography, but none of consequence enough to transcribe. It is well it is a book only for the adept, or the scorners would often laugh. Mr. Gough speaking of some cross that has been removed, says, there is now an unmeaning market-house in its place. Saving his reverence and our prejudices, I doubt there is a good deal more meaning in a market-house than in a cross. They tell me that there are numberless mistakes. Mr. Pennant, whom I saw yesterday, says so. He is not one of our plodders; rather the other extreme. His corporal spirits (for I cannot call them animal) do not allow him time to digest any thing. He gave a round jump from ornithology to antiquity; and, as if they had any relation, thought he understood every thing between them. These adventures divert me who am got on shore, and find how sweet it is to look back on those who are toiling in deep waters, whether in ships, or cock-boats, or on old rotten planks. I am sorry for the Dean of Exeter; if he dies, I conclude the leaden mace of the Antiquarian Society will be given to Judge Barrington,(401)

Et simili frondescet Virga metallo."

I endeavoured to give our antiquaries a little wrench towards taste—but it was in vain. Sandby and our engravers have lent them a great deal—but there it stops. Captain Grose's dissertations are as dull and silly as if they were written for the Ostrogoth maps of the beginning of the new Topography: and which are so square and incomprehensible, that they look as if they were ichnographics of the New Jerusalem. I am delighted with having done with the professions of author and printer, and intend to be most comfortably lazy, I was going to say idle (but that would not be new) for the rest of my days.

If there was a peace, I would build my offices—if there is not soon, we shall be bankrupt—nay, I do not know what may happen as it is. Well! Mr. Grose will have plenty of ruins to engrave! The Royal Academy will make a fine mass, with what remains of old Somerset-house.

Adieu! my good Sir. Let me know you are well. You want nothing else, for you can always amuse Yourself, and do not let the foolish world disturb you. Yours most sincerely.

(401) The Hon. Daines Barrington, fourth son of John first Viscount Barrington, second Justice of Chester, and author of "Observations on the Statutes," etc. He was eminent in natural history, and in several branches of literature; and died in 1800.-E.

Letter 203 To The Rev. Mr. Cole. Berkeley Square, Nov. 30, 1780. (page 260)

I am sorry, my dear Sir, that you should be so humble with me, your ancient friend, and to whom you have ever been so liberal, as to make an apology for desiring me to grant the request of another person. I am not less sorry that I shall not, I fear, be able to comply with it; and you must have the patience to hear my reason,,-,. The first edition of the Anecdotes was of three hundred, of the two first volumes; and of as many of the third volume, and of the volume of Engravers. Then there was an edition of three hundred of all four. Unluckily, I did not keep any number back of the two first volumes, and literally have none but those I reserved for myself. Of the other two I have two or three: and, I believe, I have a first, but without the cuts. If I can,.with some odd volumes that I kept for corrections, make out a decent set, the library of the University shall have them; but you must not promise them, lest I should not be able to perform.

Of my new fourth volume I printed six hundred; but as they can be had, I believe not a third part is sold. This is a very plain lesson to me, that my editions sell for their curiosity, and not for any merit in them: and so they would if I printed Mother Goose's Tales, and but a few. As my Anecdotes of Painting have been published at such distant periods, and in three divisions, complete sets will be seldom seen; so, If I am humbled as an author, I may be vain as a printer; and, when one has nothing else to be vain of, it is certainly very little worth while to be proud of that.

I will now trust you with a secret, but beg Mr. Gough may not know it, for he will print it directly. Though I forgot Alma Mater, I have not forgotten my Alma Nutrices, wet or dry, I mean Eton and King's. I have laid aside for them, and left them in my will, as complete a set as I could, of all I have printed. A few I did give them at first; but I have for neither a perfect set of the Anecdotes, I mean not the two first volumes. I should be much obliged to you, if, without naming me, you could inform yourself if I did send to King'S those two first volumes—I believe not. '

I will now explain what I said above of Mr. Gough. He has learnt, I suppose from my engravers, that I have had some views of Strawberry-hill engraved. Slap-dash, down it went, and he has even specified each view in his second volume. This curiosity is a little impertinent; but he has made me some amends by a new blunder, for he says they are engraved for a second edition of my Catalogue. Now I have certainly printed but one edition, for which the prints are designed. He says truly, that I printed but a few for use; consequently, I by no means wished the whole world should know it; but he is silly, and so I will say no more about him. Dr. Lort called yesterday, and asked if I had any message for you; but I had written too lately.

Mr. Pennant has been, as I think I told you, in town: by this time I conclude he is, as Lady Townley says of fifty pounds, all over the kingdom. When Dr. Lort returns, I shall be very glad to read your transcript of Wolsey's Letters; for, in your hand, I can read them. I will not have them but by some very safe conveyance, and will return them with equal care.

I can have no objection to Robin Masters being wooden-head of the Antiquarian Society; but, I suppose, he is not dignified enough for them. I should prefer the Judge too, because a coif makes him more like an old woman, and I reckon that Society the midwives of superannuated miscarriages. I am grieved for the return of your headaches—I doubt you write too much. Yours most sincerely.

P. S. It will be civil to tell Dr. Farmer that I do not know whether I can obey his commands , but that I will if I can. As to a distinguished place, I beg not to be preferred to much better authors; nay, the more conspicuous, the more likely to be stolen for the reasons I have given you, of there being few complete sets, and true collectors are mighty apt to steal.

Letter 204 To Sir David Dalrymple.(402) Dec. 11, 1780. (page 261)

I should have been shamefully ungrateful, Sir, if I could ever forget all the favours I have received from you, and had omitted any mark of respect to you that it was in my power to show. Indeed, what you are so good as to thank me for was a poor trifle, but it was all I had or shall have of the kind. It was imperfect too, as some painters Of name have died since it was printed, which was nine years ago. They will be added with your kind notices, should I live, which is not probable, to see a new edition wanted. Sixty-three years, and a great deal of illness, are too speaking mementos not to be attended to; and when the public has been more indulgent than one had any right to expect, it is not decent to load it with one's dotage.

I believe, Sir, that I may have been over-candid to Hogarth, and fail his spirit and youth and talent may have hurried him into more real caricatures than I specified . yet he certainly restrained his bent that way pretty early. Charteris(403) I have seen; but though Some years older than you, Sir, I cannot say I have at all a perfect idea of him: nor did I ever hear the curious anecdote you tell me of ' the banker and my father. I was much better acquainted with bishop Blackbourne. He lived within two doors of my father in Downing Street, and took much notice of me when I was near man. It is not to be ungrateful and asperse him, but to amuse you, if I give you some account of him from what I remember.(404) He was perfectly a fine gentleman to the last, to eighty-four; his favourite author was Waller, whom he frequently quoted. In point of decorum, he was not quite so exact as you have been told, Sir. I often dined with him, his mistress, Mrs. Conwys, sat at the head of the table, and Hayter,(405) his natural son by another woman, and very like him, at the bottom, as chaplain: he was afterwards Bishop of London. I have heard, but do not affirm it, that Mrs. Blackbourne, before she died, complained of Mrs. Conwys being brought under the same roof. To his clergy he was, I have heard, very imperious. One story I recollect, which showed how much he was a man of this world: and which the Queen herself repeated to my father. On the King's last journey to Hanover, before Lady Yarmouth came over, the Archbishop being With her Majesty, said to her, "Madam, I have been with your minister Walpole, and he tells me that you are a wise woman, and do not mind your husband's having a mistress." He was a little hurt at not being raised to Canterbury on Wake's death, and said to my father, "You did not think on me: but it is true, I am too old, I am too old." Perhaps, Sir, these are gossiping stories, but at least they hurt nobody now.

I can say little, Sir, for my stupidity or forgetfulness about Hogarth's poetry, which I still am not sure I ever heard, though I knew him so well; but it is an additional argument for my distrusting myself, if my memory fails, which is very possible. A whole volume of Richardson's poetry has been published since my volume was printed, not much to the honour of his muse, but exceedingly so to that of his piety and amiable heart. You will be pleased, too, Sir, with a story Lord Chesterfield told me (too late too) of Jervas, who piqued himself on the reverse, on total infidelity. One day that he had talked very indecently in that strain, Dr. Arbuthnot, who was as devout as Richardson, said to him, "Come, Jervas, this is all an air and affectation; nobody is a sounder believer than you." "I!" said Jervase, "I believe nothing." "Yes, but you do," replied the Doctor; "nay, you not only believe, but practise: you are so scrupulous an observer of the commandments, that you never make the likeness of any thing that is in heaven, or on the earth beneath, or," etc.

I fear, Sir, this letter is too long for thanks, and that I have been proving what I have said, of my growing superannuated; but, having made my will in my last volume, you may look on this as a codicil.

P. S. I had sealed my letter, Sir, but break it open, lest you should think soon, that I do not know what I say, or break my resolution lightly. I shall be able to send you in about two months a very curious work that I am going to print, and is actually in the press; but there is not a syllable of my writing in it. It is a discovery just made of two very ancient manuscripts, copies of which were found in two or three libraries in Germany, and of which there are more complete manuscripts at Cambridge. They are of the eleventh century at longest, and prove that painting in oil was then known, above three hundred years before the pretended invention of Van Dyck. The manuscripts themselves will be printed, with a full introductory Dissertation by the discoverer, Mr. Raspe, a very learned German. formerly librarian to the Landgrave of Hesse, and who writes English surprisingly well. The manuscripts are in the most barbarous monkish Latin, and are much such works as our booksellers publish of receipts for mixing colours, varnishes, etc. One of the authors, who calls himself Theophilus, was a monk; the other, Heraclitis, is totally unknown; but the proofs are Unquestionable. As my press is out of order, and that besides it would take up too much time to print them there, they will be printed here at my expense, and if there is any surplus, it will be for Raspe's benefit.

(402) Now first collected.

(403) The notorious Colonel Francis Charteris, to whom Hogarth has accorded a conspicuous place in the first plate of his Harlot's Progress. Pope describes him as "a man infamous for all manner of vices," and thus introduces him into his third Moral Essay:—

"Riches in effect, No grace of Heaven, or token of th' Elect; Given to the fool, the mad, the vain, the evil, To Ward, to Waters, Chartres, and the devil!"

He died in Scotland, in 1731, at the age of sixty-two. The populace, at his funeral, raised a great riot, almost tore the body out of the coffin, and cast dead dogs, etc. into the grave along with it.-E.

(404) See the note to vol. i. p. 314, letter 101.-E.

(405) For a refutation of Walpole's assertion, that Bishop Hayter was a natural son of bishop Blackbourn's, see vol. ii. p. 100, letter 39.-E.

Letter 205 To The Rev. Mr. Cole. Berkeley Square, Dec. 19, 1780. (page 263)

I cannot leave you for a moment in error, my good Sir, when you transfer a compliment to me, to which I have not the most slender claim, and defraud another of it to whom it is due.

The friend of Mr. Gray, in whom authorship caused no jealousy or variance, as Mr. Mainwaring says truly, is Mr. Mason. I certainly never excelled in poetry, and never attempted the species of poetry alluded to, odes. Dr. Lort, I suppose, is removing to a living or a prebend, at least; I hope so. He may run a risk if he carries his book to Lambeth. "Sono sonate venti tre ore e mezza," as Alexander VIII. said to his nephew, when he was chosen pope in extreme old age. My Lord of Canterbury's is not extreme, but very tottering. I found in Mr. Gough's new edition, that in the Pepysian library is a view of the theatre in Dorset Gardens, and views of four or five other ancient great mansions. Do the folk of Magdalen ever suffer copies of such things to be taken? If they would, is there any body at Cambridge that could execute them, and reasonably? Answer me quite at your leisure; and, also, what and by whom is the altar- piece that Lord Carlisle has given to King's. I did not know he had been of our college. I have two or three plates of Strawberry more than those you mention; but my collections are so numerous, and from various causes my prints have been in such confusion, that at present I neither know where the plates or proofs are. I intend next summer to set about completing my plan of the Catalogue and its prints; and when I have found any of the plates or proofs, you shall certainly have those you want. There are two large views of the house, one of the cottage, one of the library, one of the front to the road, and the chimney-piece in the Holbein room. I think these are all that are finished—oh! yes, I believe the prior's garden; but I have not seen them these two years. I was so ill the summer before last, that I attended to nothing; the little I thought of in that way last summer, was to get out my last volume of the Anecdotes; now I have nothing to trouble myself about as an editor, and that not publicly, but to finish my Catalogue—and that will be awkwardly enough; for so many articles have been added to my collection since the description was made, that I must add them in the appendix or reprint it: and, what is more inconvenient, the positions of many of the pictures have been changed; and so it will be a lame piece of work. Adieu, my dear Sir! Yours most cordially.

Letter 206 To Sir David Dalrymple.(406) Berkeley Square, Jan. 1, 1781. (page 264)

Your favourable opinion of my father, Sir, is too flattering(r to me not to thank you for the satisfaction it gave me. Wit, I think he had not naturally, though I am sure he had none from affectation, as simplicity was a predominant feature in his amiable composition. but he possessed that, perhaps, most true species of wit, which flows from experience and deep knowledge of mankind, and consequently had more in his later than in his earlier years; which is not common to a talent that generally flashes from spirits, though they alone cannot bestow it. When you was once before so good, Sir, as to suggest to me an attempt at writing my father's life, I probably made you one answer that I must repeat now, which is, that a son's encomiums would be attributed to partiality; and with my deep devotion to his memory, I should ever suspect it in myself. But I will set my repugnance in a stronger light, by relating an anecdote not incurious. In the new edition of the Biographia Britannica, Dr. Kippis, the tinker of it, reflecting on my having called the former, Vindicatio Britannica, or Defence of Every body, threatened that when he should come to my father's life he would convince me that the new edition did not deserve that censure. I confess I thought this but an odd sort of historian equity, to reverse scripture and punish the sins of children upon their fathers! However, I said nothing. Soon after Dr. Kippis himself called on me, and in very gracious terms desired I would favour him with anecdotes of my father's life. This was descending a little from his censorial throne, but I took no notice; and only told him, that I was so persuaded of the fairness of my father's character, that I chose to trust it to the most unprejudiced hands; and that all I could consent to was, that when he shall have written it, if he would communicate it to me, I would point out to him any material facts, if I should find any, that were not truly noted. This was all I could contribute. Since that time I have seen in the second volume a very gross accusation of Sir Robert, at second or third hand, and to which the smallest attention must give a negative. Sir Robert is accused of having, out of spite, influenced the House of Commons to expel the late Lord Barrington for the notorious job of the Hamburg lottery.(407) Spite was not the ingredient most domineering in my father's character; but whatever has been said of the corruption or servility of Houses of Commons, when was there one so prostitute, that it would have expelled one of their own members for a fraud not proved, to gratify the vengeance of the minister? and a minister must have been implacable indeed, and a House of Commons profligate indeed, to inflict such a stigma on an innocent man, because he had been attached to a rival predecessor of the minister. It is not less strange that the Hamburgher's son should not have vindicated his parent's memory at the opportunity of the secret committee on Sir Robert, but should wait for a manuscript memorandum of Serjeant Skinner after the death of this last. I hope Sir Robert will have no such apologist!

I do not agree less with you, Sir, in your high opinion of King William. I think, and a far better judge, Sir Robert, thought that Prince one of the wisest men that ever lived. Your bon-mot of his was quite new to me. There are two or three passages in the Diary of the second Earl of Clarendon that always struck me as instances of wisdom and humour at once, particularly his Majesty's reply to the lords who advised him (I think at Salisbury,) to send away King James; and his few words, after long patience, to that foolish lord himself, who harangued him on the observance of his declaration. Such traits, and several of Queen Anne (not equally deep) in the same journal, paint those princes as characteristically as Lord Clarendon's able father would have drawn them. There are two letters in the "Nugae Antiquae," that exhibit as faithful pictures of Queen Elizabeth and James the First, by delineating them in their private life and unguarded hours.

You are much in the right, Sir, in laughing at those wise personages, who not only dug up the corpse of Edward the First, but restored Christian burial to his crown and robes. Methinks, had they deposited those regalia in the treasury of the church, they would have committed no sacrilege. I confess I have not quite so heinous an idea of sacrilege as Dr. Johnson. Of all kinds of robbery, that appears to me the lightest species which injures nobody. Dr. Johnson is so pious, that in his journey to your country, he flatters himself that all his readers will join him in enjoying the destruction of two Dutch crews, who were swallowed up by the ocean after they had robbed a church.(408) I doubt that uncharitable anathema is more in the spirit of the Old Testament than of the New.

(406) Now first published.

(407) See ant`e, p. 201, letter 147.-E.

(408) The following are Johnson's words:—"The two churches of Elgin were stripped, and the lead was shipped to be sold in Holland: I hope every reader will rejoice that this cargo of sacrilege was lost at sea."-E.

Letter 207 To The Hon. H. S. Conway. January 3, 1781. (page 266)

After I had written my note to you last night, I called on * * * * who gave me the dismal account of Jamaica,(409) that you will see in the Gazette, and of the damage done to our shipping. Admiral Rowley is safe; but they are in apprehensions for Walsingham. He told me too what is not in the Gazette; that of the expedition against the Spanish settlements, not a single man survives! The papers to-day, I see, speak of great danger to Gibraltar.

Your brother repeated to me his great desire that you should publish your speech,(410) as he told you. I do not conceive why he is so eager for it, for he professes total despair about America. It looks to me as if there was a wish of throwing the blame somewhere; but I profess I am too simple to dive into the objects of shades of intrigues: nor do I care about them. We shall be reduced to a miserable little island; and from a mighty empire sink into as insignificant a country as Denmark or Sardinia! When our trade and marine are gone, the latter of which we keep up by unnatural efforts, to which our debt will put a stop, we shall lose the East Indies as Portugal did; and then France will dictate to us more imperiously than ever we did to Ireland, which is in a manner already gone too! These are mortifying reflections, to -which an English mind cannot easily accommodate itself. But, alas! we have been pursuing the very conduct that France would have prescribed, and more than with all her presumption she could have dared to expect. Could she flatter herself that we would take no advantage of the dilatoriness and unwillingness of Spain to enter into the war? that we would reject the disposition of Russia to support us? and that our still more natural friend, Holland,(411) would be driven into the league against us? All this has happened; and, like an infant, we are delighted with having set our own frock in a blaze! I sit and gaze with astonishment at our frenzy. Yet why? Are not nations as liable to intoxication as individuals? Are not predictions founded on calculation oftener rejected than the prophecies of dreamers? Do we not act precisely like Charles Fox, who thought he had discovered a new truth in figures, when he preached that wise doctrine, that nobody could want money that would pay enough for it? The consequence was, that in two years he left himself without the possibility of borrowing a shilling. I am not surprised at the spirits of' a boy of parts; I am not surprised at the people; I do wonder at government, that games away its consequence. For what are we now really at war with America, France, Spain, and Holland!—Not with hopes of reconquering America; not with the smallest prospect of conquering a foot of land from France, Spain, or Holland. No; we are at war on the defensive to protect what is left, or more truly to stave off, for a year perhaps, a peace that must proclaim our nakedness and impotence. I would not willingly recur to that womanish vision of something may turn up in our favour! That something must be a naval victory that will annihilate at once all the squadrons of Europe—must wipe off forty millions of new debt—reconcile the affections of America, that for six years we have laboured to alienate; and that must recall out of the grave the armies and sailors that are perished- -and that must make thirteen provinces willing to receive the law, without the necessity of keeping ten thousand men amongst them. The gigantic imagination of Lord Chatham would not entertain such a chimera. Lord * * * * perhaps would say he did, rather than not undertake; or Mr. Burke could form a metaphoric vision that would satisfy no imagination but his own: but I, who am nullius addiclus itrare in verba, have no hopes either in our resources or in our geniuses, and look on my country already as undone! It is grievous—but I shall not have much time to lament its fall!(412)

(409) On the 3d of October occurred one of the most dreadful hurricanes ever experienced in the West Indies. In Jamaica, Savannah la Mar, with three hundred inhabitants, was utterly swept away by an irruption of the sea; and at Barbados, on the 10th, Bridgetown, the capital of the island, was almost levelled to the ground, and several thousands of the inhabitants perished.-E.

(410) "Introductory of a motion for leave to bring in a bill for quieting the troubles that have for some time subsisted between Great Britain and America, and enabling his Majesty to send out commissioners with full power to treat with America for that purpose." The motion was negatived by 123 against 81. For the speech of General Conway, and a copy of his proposed bill, see Parl. History, vol, Nxi. pp. 570, 588.-E.

(411) Mr. Henry Laurens, president of the American council, having been taken by one of the King's frigates early in October 1780, on his passage to Holland, and it being discovered by the papers in his possession that the American States had been long carrying on a secret correspondence with Amsterdam, Sir Joseph Yorke, the British minister at the Hague, demanded a satisfactory explanation; but the same not being afforded, hostilities against Holland were declared on the 28th of December 1780.-E.

(412) To this passage the editor of Walpole's Works subjoined, in March 1798, the following note:—"It may be some comfort, in a moment no less portentous and melancholy than the one here described, to recollect the almost unhoped-for recovery of national prosperity, which took place from the peace of 1782 to the declaration of war against France in the year 1793. May our exertions procure the speedy application of a similar remedy to our present evils, and may that remedy be productive of equally good effects!"-E.

Letter 208 To The Rev. Mr. Cole. Berkeley Square, Feb. 7, 1781. (page 268)

Dear Sir, I will not leave you a moment in suspense about the safety of your very valuable volume, which you have so kindly sent me, and which I have just received, with the enclosed letters, and your other yesterday. I have not time to add a word more at present, being full of business, having the night before last received an account of Lady Orford's death at Pisa,(413) and a copy of her will, which obliges me to write several letters, and to see my relations. She has left every thing in her power to her friend Cavalier Mozzi, at Florence; but her son comes into a large estate, besides her great jointure. You may imagine, how I lament that he had not patience to wait sixteen months, before he sold his pictures!

I am very sorry you have been at all indisposed. I will take the utmost care of your fifty-ninth volume (for which I give you this receipt), and will restore it the instant I have had time to go through it. Witness my hand.

(413) See vol. i. p. 243, letter 61.-E.

Letter 209 To The Rev. Mr. Cole. February 9, 1781. (page 268)

I had not time, dear Sir, when I wrote last, to answer your letter, nor do more than cast an eye on your manuscripts. To say the truth, my patience is not tough enough to go through Wolsey's negotiations. I see that your perseverance was forced to make the utmost efforts to transcribe them. They are immeasurably verbose, not to mention the blunders of the first copyist. As I road only for amusement, I cannot, so late in my life, purchase information on what I do not much care about, at the price of a great deal of ennui. The old wills at the end of your volume diverted me much more than the obsolete politics. I shall say nothing about what you call your old leaven. Every body must judge for himself in those matters: nor are you or I of an age to change long-formed opinions, as neither of us is governed by self-interest. Pray tell me how I may most safely return your volume. I value all your manuscripts so much, that I should never forgive myself, if a single one came to any accident by your so obligingly lending them to me. They are great treasures, and contain something or other that must suit most tastes: not to mention your amazing industry, neatness, legibility, with notes, arms, etc. I know no such repositories. You will receive with your manuscript Mr. Kerrick's and Mr. Gough's letters. The former is very kind. The inauguration of the Antiquated Society is burlesque and so is the dearth of materials for another volume; can they ever want such rubbish as compose their preceding annals?

I think it probable that story should be stone: however, I never piqued myself on recording every mason. I have preserved but too many that did not deserve to be mentioned. I dare to say, that when I am gone, many more such will be added to my volumes. I had not heard of poor Mr. Pennant's misfortune. I am very sorry for it, for I believe him to be a very honest good-natured man. He certainly was too lively for his proportion of understanding, and too impetuous to make the best use of what he had. However, it is a credit to us antiquaries to have one of our class disordered by vivacity. I hope your goutiness is dissipated, and that this last fine week has set you on your feet again.

Letter 210 To The Earl Of Buchan.(414) Berkeley Square, Feb. 10, 1781. (page 269)

I was honoured yesterday with your lordship's card, with the notification of the additional honour of my being elected an honourary member of the Society of the Antiquaries of Scotland;(415) a grace, my lord, that I receive with the respect and gratitude due to so valuable a distinction; and for which I must beg leave, through your lordship's favour, to offer my most sincere and humble thanks to that learned and respectable Society. My very particular thanks are still due to your lordship, who, in remembrance of ancient partiality, have been pleased, at the hazard of your own judgment, to favour an old humble servant, who can only receive honour from, but can reflect none on, the Society into which your lordship and your associates have condescended to adopt him. In my best days, my lord, I never could pretend to more than having flitted over some flowers of knowledge. Now worn out and near the end of my course, I can Only be a broken monument to prove that the Society of the Antiquaries of Scotland are zealous to preserve even the least valuable remains of a former age, and to recompense all who have contributed their mite towards illustrating our common island. I am, etc.

(414) Now first printed.

(415) The Royal Society of Antiquaries of Scotland had been formed at Edinburgh in the preceding December, when the Earl of Buchan was elected president.-E.

Letter 211 To Sir David Dalrymple.(416) Strawberry Hill, Feb. 10, 1781. (page 270)

I was very intimate, Sir, with the last Lord Finlater when he was Lord Deskford. We became acquainted at Rome on our travels, and though during his illness and long residence in Scotland, we had no intercourse, I had the honour of seeing him sometimes during his last visit to England; but I am an entire stranger to the anecdote relative to my father and Sir William Windham. I have asked my brother, who was much more conversant in the scenes of that time, for I was abroad when Sir William died, and returned to England but about six months before my father's retirement, so that having been at school and at Cambridge, or in my infancy, during Sir Robert's administration, the little I retain from him was picked up in the last three years of his life, which is an answer, Sir, to your inquiries why, among other reasons, I have always declined writing his life; for I could in reality say but little on my own knowledge; and yet should have the air of being good authority, at least better than I should truly be. My brother, Sir Edward, who is eleven years older than I am, never heard of your anecdote. I may add, that latterly I lived in great intimacy with the Marchioness of Blandford, Sir William's widow, who died but a year and a half ago at Sheepe, here in my neighbourhood; and with Lady Suffolk, who could not but be well acquainted with the history of those times from her long residence at court, and with whom, for the last five or six years of her life here at Twickenham, I have had many and many long conversations on those subjects, and yet I never heard a word of the supposed event you mention. I myself never heard Sir W. William speak but once in the House of Commons, but have always been told that his style and behaviour were most liberal and like a gentleman and my brother says, there never passed any bitterness or acrimony between him and our father.(417)

I will answer you as fairly and candidly, Sir, about Archibald Duke of Argyll, of whom I saw at least a great deal. I do believe Sir Robert had a full opinion of his abilities as a most useful man. In fact, it is plain he had; for he depended on the Duke, when Lord Islay, for the management of your part of the island, and, as I have heard at the time, disobliged the most firm of the Scottish Whigs by that preference. Sir Robert supported Lord Islay against the Queen herself, who hated him for his attachment to Lady Suffolk, and he was the only man of any consequence whom her Majesty did not make feel how injudicious it was (however novel) to prefer the interest of the mistress to that of the wife. On my father's defeat his warm friends loudly complained of Lord Islay as having betrayed the Scottish boroughs, at the election of Sir Robert's last Parliament, to his brother, Duke John. It is true too, that Sir Robert always replied, "I do not accuse him." I Must own, knowing my father's manner, and that when he said but little, it was not a favourable symptom, I did think, that if he would not accuse, at least he did not acquit. Duke Archibald was undoubtedly a dark shrewd man. I recollect an instance for which I should not choose to be quoted just at this moment, though it reflects on nobody living. I forget the precise period, and even some of the persons concerned; but it was in the minority of the present Duke of Gordon, and you, Sir, can probably adjust the dates. A regiment had been raised of Gordons. Duke Archibald desired the command of it to a favourite of his own. The Duchess-dowager insisted on it for her second husband. Duke A. said, "Oh! to be sure her grace must be obeyed;" but instantly got the regiment ordered to the East Indies, which had not been the reckoning of a widow remarried to a young fellow.(418)

At the time of the rebellion, I remember that Duke Archibald was exceedingly censured in London for coming thither, and pleading that he was not empowered to take up arms. But I believe that I have more than satisfied your curiosity, Sir, and that you will not think it very prudent to set an old man on talking of the days of his Youth.

I have just received the favour of a letter from Lord Buchan, in which his lordship is so good as to acquaint me with the honour your new Society of Antiquaries have done me in nominating me an honourary member. I am certainly much flattered by the distinction, but am afraid his lordship's partiality and patronage will in this only instance do him no credit. My knowledge even of British antiquity has ever been desultory and most superficial; I have never studied any branch of science deeply and solidly, nor ever but for temporary \amusement, and without any system, suite, or method. Of late years I have quitted every connexion with societies, not only Parliament, but those of our Antiquaries and of Arts and Sciences, and have not attended the meetings of the Royal Society. I have withdrawn myself in a great measure from the world, and live in a very narrow circle idly and obscurely. Still, Sir, I could not decline the honour your Society has been pleased to offer me, lest it should be thought a want of respect and gratitude, instead of a mark of humility and conscious unworthiness. I am so sensible of this last, that I cannot presume to offer my services in this part of' our island to so respectable an assembly; but if you, Sir, who know too well my limited abilities, can at any time point out any information that it is in my power to give to the Society, (as in the case of Royal Scottish portraits, on which Lord Buchan was pleased to Consult Me,) I shall be very proud to obey your and their commands, and shall always be with great regard their and your most obedient humble servant.

P. S. I do not know whether I ever mentioned to you or Lord Buchan, Sir, a curious and excellent head in oil of the Lady Margaret Douglas at Mr. Carteret's, at Hawnes in Bedfordshire, the seat of his grandfather Lord Granville; I know few better portraits. It is at once a countenance of goodness and cunning, a mixture I think pleasing. It seems to imply that the person's virtue was not founded on folly or ignorance of the world; it implies perhaps more, that the person would combat treachery and knavery, and knew how. I could fancy the head in question was such a character as Margaret Queen of Navarre, sister of Francis the First. who was very free in her conversation and writings, yet strictly virtuous; debonnaire, void of ambition; yet a politician when her brother's situation required it. If your Society should give into engraving historic portraits, this head would deserve an early place. There is at Lord Scarborough's in Yorkshire, a double portrait, perhaps by Holbein or Lucas de Heere, of Lady Margaret's mother, Queen Margaret, and her second husband.

(416) Now first collected.

(417) Pope in his second Dialogue for the Year 1738, has transmitted Sir William's character to posterity—

"How can I, Pultney, Chesterfield, forget, While Roman spirit charms, and Attic wit? Or Wyndham, just to freedom and the throne, The master of our passions and his own?"

Speaker Onslow says, "there was a spirit and power in his speaking that always animated himself and his hearers, and with the decoration of his manner, which was, indeed, very ornamental, produced, not only the most attentive, respectful, but even a reverend regard, to whatever he spoke."-E.

(418) See Memoires of George the Second, vol. i. p. 240. "In his private life," says Walpole, "he had more merit, except in the case of his wife, whom, having been deluded into marrying without a fortune, he punished by rigorous and unrelaxed confinement in Scotland. He had a great thirst for books; a head admirably turned to mechanics; was a patron of ingenious men, a promoter of discoveries, and one of the first encouragers of planting in England; most of the curious exotics which have been familiarized to this climate being introduced by him. He died suddenly in his chair after dinner, at his house in Argyle-buildings, London, April 15, 1761."-E.

Letter 212 To The Rev. Mr. Cole. Berkeley Square, March 2, 1781. (page 272)

Dear Sir, My Lady Orford ordered herself to be buried at Leghorn, the only place in Tuscany where Protestants have burial; therefore I suppose she did not affect to change. On the contrary, I believe she had no preference for any sect, but rather laughed at all. I know nothing new, neither in novelty nor antiquity. I have had no gout this winter, and therefore I call it my leap-year. I am sorry it is not yours too. It is an age since I saw Dr. lort. I hope illness is not the cause. You will be diverted with hearing that I am chosen an honourary member of the new Antiquarian Society at Edinburgh. I accepted for two reasons: first, it is a feather that does not demand my flying thither; and secondly, to show contempt for our own old fools.(419) To me it will be a perfect sinecure; for I have moulted all my pen feathers, and shall have no ambition of nestling into their printed transactions. Adieu, my good Sir. Your much obliged.

(419) Cole, in a letter to Mr. Gough, acquainting him with Walpole's election, adds—"The admission of a few things into our Archaeologia, has, I fear, estranged for ever one of the most lively, learned, and entertaining members on our list."-E.

Letter 213 To The Rev. Mr. Cole. March 5, 1781. (PAGE 273)

I do not in the least guess or imagine what you mean by Lord Hardwicke's publication of a Walpoliana.(420) Naturally it should mean a collection of sayings or anecdotes of my father, according to the French Anas, which began, I think, with those of Menage. Or, is it a collection of letters and state-papers, during his administration? I own I am curious to know at least what this piece contains. I had not heard a word of it; and, were it not for the name, I should have very little inquisitiveness about it: for nothing upon earth ever was duller than the three heavy tomes his lordship printed of Sir Dudley Carleton's Negotiations, and of what he called State-papers. Pray send me an answer as soon as you can, at least of as much as you have heard about this thing.

(420) "Walpoliana; or a few Anecdotes of Sir Robert Walpole"—an agreeable little collection of anecdotes relative to Sir Robert Walpole, made by Philip second Earl of Hardwicke; printed in quarto, but never published.-E.

Letter 214 To The Rev. Mr. Cole. Berkeley Square, March 29, 1781. (PAGE 273)

You are so good-natured that I am sure you will be glad to be told that the report of Mr. Pennant being disordered is not true. He is come to town—has been with me, and at least is as composed as ever I saw him. He is going to publish another part of his Welsh Tour, which he can well afford; though I believe he does not lose by his works. An aunt is dead, exceedingly rich, who had given some thousands to him and his daughter, but suddenly changed her mind and left all to his sister, who has most nobly given him all that had been destined in the cancelled will. Dr. Nash has just published the first volume of his Worcestershire. It is a folio of prodigious corpulence, and yet dry enough; but then it is finely dressed, and has many heads and views.(421) Dr. Lort was with me yesterday, and I never saw him better, nor has he been much out of order. I hope your gout has left you; but here are winds bitter enough to give one any thing. Yours ever.

(421) Dr. Threadway Nash's "Collections for the History of Worcestershire;" 1781-1799; in two volumes, folio.-E.

Letter 215 To The Rev. Mr. Cole. April 3, 1781.(PAGE 274)

I am very sorry, dear Sir, that, in my last letter but one, I took notice of what you said of Lord Hardwicke; the truth was, I am perfectly indifferent about what he prints or publishes. There is generally a little indirect malice but so much more dulness, that the latter soon suffocates the former. This is telling you that I could not be offended at any thing you said of him, nor am I likely to suspect a sincere friend of disobliging me. You have proved the direct contrary these forty years. I have not time to say more, but am ever most truly yours.

Letter 216 To The Rev. Mr. Cole. Berkeley Square, May 4, 1781. (PAGE 274)

I shall not only be ready to show Strawberry Hill, at any time he chooses, to Dr. Farmer, as your friend, but to be honoured with his acquaintance, though I am very shy now of contracting new. I have great respect for his character and abilities and Judicious taste, and am very clear that he has elucidated Shakspeare(422) in a more reasonable and satisfactory manner than any of his affected commentators, who only complimented him with learning that he had not, in order to display their own.

Pray give me timely notice whenever I am likely to see Dr. Farmer, that I may not be out of the way when I can have an opportunity of showing attention to a friend of yours, and pay a small part of your gratitude to him. There shall be a bed at his service; for you know Strawberry cannot be seen in a moment, nor are Englishmen so liants as to get acquainted in the time they are walking through a house.

But now, my good Sir, how could you suffer your prejudiced partiality to me to run away with you so extravagantly, as to call me one of the greatest characters of the age? You are too honest to flatter, too much a hermit to be interested, and I am too powerless and insignificant to be an object of court, were you capable of paying it from mercenary views. I know then that it could proceed from nothing but the warmth of your heart; but if you are blind towards me, I am not so to myself. I know not how others feel on such occasions, but if any one happens to praise me, all my faults rush into my face, and make me turn my eyes inward and outward with horror. What am I but a poor old skeleton tottering towards the grave, and conscious of a thousand weaknesses, follies, and worse! And for talents, what are mine but trifling and superficial; and, compared with those of men with real genius, most diminutive! Mine a great character! Mercy on me! I am a composition of Anthony Wood and Madame Danois,(423) and I know not what trumpery writers. This is the least I can say to refute your panegyric, which I shall burn presently; for I will not have such an encomiastic letter found in my possession, lest I should seem to have been pleased with it. I enjoin you, as a penance, not to contradict one tittle I have said here; for I am not begging more compliments, and shall take it seriously ill if you ever pay me another. We have been friends above forty years; I am satisfied of your sincerity and affection; but does it become us, at past threescore each, to be saying fine things to one another? Consider how soon we shall both be nothing!

I assure you, with great truth, I am at this present very sick of my little vapour of fame. My tragedy has wandered into the hands of some banditti booksellers, and I am forced to publish it myself to prevent piracy.(424) All I can do is to condemn it myself, and that I shall. I am reading Mr. Pennant's new Welsh Tour; he has pleased me by making very handsome mention of you; but I will not do, what I have been blaming.

My poor dear Madame du Deffand's little dog is arrived. She made me promise to take care of it the last time I saw her: that I will most religiously, and make it as happy as is possible.(425) I have not much curiosity to see your Cambridge Raphael, but great desire to see you, and will certainly this summer, accept your invitation,, which I take much kinder than your great character, though both flowed from the same friendship. Mine for you is exactly what it has been ever since you knew (and few men can boast so uninterrupted a friendship as yours and that of—) H. W.

(422) In his well-known "Essay on the Learning of Shakspeare."-E.

(423) Madame d'Aulnoy, the contemporary of Perrault, and, like him, a writer of fairy tales. She was the authoress of "The Lady's Travels in Spain," and many other works, which have been translated into English.-E.

(424) Walpole had printed fifty copies of"The Mysterious Mother" at Strawberry Hill as early as the year 1765; but a surreptitious edition of it being announced in 1781, he consented to Dodsley's publishing a genuine one.-E.

(425) In his reply to this letter, of the 7th of May, the worthy antiquary says-"I congratulate the little Parisian dog, that he has fallen into the hands of so humane a master. I have a little diminutive dog, Busy, full as great a favourite, and never out of my lap: I have already, in case of an accident, ensured it a refuge from starvation and ill-usage. It is the least we can do for poor harmless, shiftless, pampered animals that have amused us, and we have spoilt." A brother antiquary, on reading this passage, exclaimed, "How could Mr. Cole ever get through the transcript of a Bishop's Registry, or a Chartulary, with Busy never out of his lap!"-E.

Letter 217 To The Hon. H. S. Conway. Strawberry Hill,, Sunday evening, May 6, 1781. (PAGE 275)

I supped With your Countess on Friday at Lord Frederick Campbell's, where I heard of the relief of Gibraltar by Darby. The Spanish fleet kept close in Cadiz: however, he lifted up his leg, and just squirted contempt on them. As he is disembarrassed of his transports, I suppose their ships will scramble on shore rather than fight. Well, I shall be perfectly content with our fleet coming back in a whole skin; it will be enough to have outquixoted Don Quixote's own nation. As I knew, your Countess would write the next day, I waited till she was gone out of town and would not have much to tell you—not that I have either; and it is giving myself an air to pretend to know more at Twickenham than she can at Henley. Though it is a bitter northeast, I came hither to-day to look at my lilacs, though `a la glace; and to get from pharaoh, for which there is a rage. I doted on it above thirty years ago; but it is not decent to sit up all night now with boys and girls. My nephew, Lord Cholmondeley, the banker `a la mode, has been demolished. He and his associate, Sir Willoughby Aston, went early t'other night to Brookcs's, before Charles Fox and Fitzpatrick, who keep a bank there, were come; but they soon arrived, attacked their rivals, broke their bank, and won above four thousand pounds. "There," said Fox, "so should all usurpers be served!" He did still better; for he sent for his tradesmen, and paid as far as the money would go. In the mornings he continues his war on Lord North, but cannot break that bank. The court has carried a secret committee for India affairs, and it is supposed that Rumbold is to be the sacrifice; but as he is near as rich as Lord Clive, I conclude he will escape by the same golden key.

I told you in my last that Tonton was arrived. I brought him this morning to take possession of his new villa, but his installation has not been at all pacific. As he has already found out that he may be as despotic as at Saint Joseph's, he began with exiling my beautiful little cat; upon which, however, we shall not quite agree. He then flew at one of my dogs,(426) who returned it by biting his foot till it bled, but was severely beaten for it. I immediately rung for Margaret,(427) to dress his foot: but in the midst of my tribulation could not keep my countenance; for she cried, "Poor little thing, he does not understand my language!" I hope she will not recollect too that he is a Papist!

Berkeley Square, Tuesday, May 8.

I came before dinner, and found your long letter of the 3d. You have mistaken Tonton's sex, who is a cavalier, and a little of the mousquetaire still; but if I do not correct his vivacities, at least I shall not encourage them like my dear old friend.

You say nothing of your health; therefore, I trust it is quite re-established: my own is most flourishing for me. They say the Parliament will rise by the birthday; not that it seems to be any grievance or confinement to any body. I hope you will soon come and enjoy a quiet summer under the laurels of your own conscience. They are at least as spreading as any body's else; and the soil will preserve their verdure for ever. Methinks we western powers might as well make peace. since we make war so clumsily. Yet I doubt the awkwardness of our enemies will not have brought down our stomach. Well, I wish for the sake of mankind there was an end of their sufferings! Even spectators are not amused—the whole war has passed like the riotous murmurs of the upper gallery before the play begins—they have pelted the candle-snuffers, the stage has been swept, the music has played, people have taken their places—but the deuce a bit of any performance!—And when folks go home, they will have seen nothing but a farce, that has cost fifty times more than the best tragedy!

(426) This does not quite accord with the favourable character given of Tonton by Madame du Deffand's secretary, Wyrt, in a letter to Walpole:—"Je garderai," he says, "Tonton jusqu'au d`epart de M. Thomas Walpole; j'en ai le plus grand soin. Il est tr`es doux; il ne mord personne; il n'`etait m`echant qu'aupr`es de sa maitresse."-E.

(427) Mr. Walpole's housekeeper.

Letter 218 To The Hon. H. S. Conway. Berkeley Square, May 28, 1781. (PAGE 277)

This letter, like an embarkation, will not set out till it has gotten its complement; but I begin it, as I have just received your second letter. I wrote to you two days ago, and did not mean to complain; for you certainly cannot have variety of matter in your sequestered isle: and since you do not disdain trifling news, this good town, that furnishes nothing else, at least produces weeds, which shoot up in spite of the Scotch thistles, that have choked all good fruits. I do not know what Lady Craven designs to do with her play; I hope, act it only in private; for her other was murdered, and the audience did not exert the least gallantry to so pretty an authoress, though she gave them so fair an opportunity. For my own play, I was going to publish it in my own defence, as a spurious edition was advertised here, besides one in Ireland. My advertisement has overlaid the former for the present, and that tempts me to suppress mine, as I have a thorough aversion to its appearance. Still, I think I shall produce it in the dead of summer, that it may be forgotten by winter; for I could not bear having it the subject of conversation in a full town. It is printed; so I can let it steal out in the midst of the first event that engrosses the public; and as it is not quite a novelty, I have no fear but it will be stillborn, if it is twin with any babe that squalls and makes much noise.

At the same time with yours I received a letter from another cousin at Paris, who tells me Necker is on the verge, and in the postscript says, he has actually resigned. I heard so a few days ago; but this is a full confirmation. Do you remember a conversation at your house, at supper, in which a friend of yours spoke, very unfavourably of Necker, and seemed to wish his fall? In my own opinion they are much in the wrong. It is true, Necker laboured with all his shoulders to restore their finances; yet I am persuaded that his attention to that great object made him clog all their military operations. They will pay dearer for money; but money they will have: nor is it so dear to them, for, when they have gotten it, they have only not to pay. A Monsieur Joly de Fleury is comptroller-general. I know nothing of him; but as they change so often, some able man will prove minister at last—and there they will have the advantage again.